Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass or related subjects by any means, shapes, or forms. I do, however, tie the characters up against their will and make them watch me crank out my disasterous fanfictions that cast shame upon them. Sorry.

My first Code Geass fanfic! This was just a little tiny plunnie that would not unsink its teeth from my brain, so I had to write this. Enjoy!


The front door slammed shut, and keys slammed onto the table at the front entrance. Breathing heavily, Suzaku Kururugi staggered into his bedroom and reached his desk through the darkness. He sat down and groped around for the lamp switch on his desk, and smashed his fingers down on it once he located it. Light filled the room, but the illumination faded as the glow traveled farther from the source. Even so, the light calmed down Suzaku a little bit. His breathing slowed and slightly evened out, and he closed his large green eyes to breathe deeply. Upon opening them again, the first thing within his sight was the book on his desk, open to the place where he had stopped reading the night before. A book lent to him by Rivalz, the thick black volume was a collection of short stories about vampires, a subject in which Suzaku had once shown interest during a conversation.

Glancing at the title of the story the book was open to, Suzaku suppressed a bitter laugh. The words Loving Lady Death were printed in an elegant, delicate script on the page. Loving Lady Death… How ironic.

"No… no… I shouldn't think like that," Suzaku muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair. "Not "Lady Death"… Lady… Euphemia. Euphemia… Euphie…" Letting out a moan, Suzaku plunged forward and brought his fist down on the wooden desk top. The wood shuddered under his strike; after all, he was a soldier trained in combat as well as piloting Knight-mare frames. Pressing his forehead to the wood, Suzaku let out a long, rattling breath. Tears streamed down his face and pattered onto the carpet.

The lovely face of Euphemia li Britannia bloomed in his mind. Her last words rang in his head, a never ending melody of sadness. She had been so pale; her skin was nearly gray, and dark, bruise-like circles ringed her eyes. Suzaku had almost yelped when he took her hand; it was colder than ice, colder than brutal winter winds whipping his face. Euphemia's voice was barely a whisper, weak and strained. Like those very last words had drained the life from her.

"No… That didn't kill her," the young soldier hissed. "Zero killed her. Zero heartlessly murdered her. Euphemia… did not deserve to die!"

Suzaku snarled furiously and stood up so fast that he tipped his chair over. He stormed over to his bed and sat down hard, making a pillow fly to the ground. Drawing in a long breath, he tried to regain his temper. This was surprisingly hard; during his training, Suzaku has been taught to control his emotions no matter what. As a soldier, he would see bloodshed, death, and the most horrific sorrow, and he was prepared for that. But he had not prepared to fall in love.

Finally collecting himself, Suzaku removed his boots and set them neatly just under his bed. He changed out of his flight suit and into the pajamas he had placed on top of the pillow that remained on his bed. Suzaku picked his pillow off of the floor and dusted it lightly.

"I need to just… Ah… I don't know anymore…" he whispered, running his fingers through his brown curls. He put the pillow under his head and flopped down on it, withdrawing his hand from under it. Suzaku sighed and closed his eyes. Unable to relax, he turned over and heard a loud snapping noise. Sitting up in surprise, Suzaku felt something drop into his lap and sighed in exasperation. He had gotten out his old pair of pajamas, and had strained one of the buttons off with his movement. He hadn't felt the tightness, but apparently his frame was too large for the clothing…

Unbuttoning the shirt, the tired teenager shrugged the silk off and walked towards his closet. Suzaku began to push aside uniforms and street clothes in search for an oversized T-shirt.

"Suzaku?"

"Hm? I mean, yes, Lady Euphemia?" Suzaku answered automatically, pulling out a suitable pajama replacement. He began to turn the T-shirt around in his hands, searching for the opening, when realization crashed into him, harder than any Knight-mare frame he had ever fought. Suzaku whipped around in shock and nearly lost his balance. "Euphemia!"

Giggling at this movement, Euphemia li Britannia stepped delicately towards the dazed knight and tilted her head to the side. "Suzaku? Are you alright? You don't look well…"

Gasping and wide-eyed, Suzaku could only stare at Euphemia. Was this an illusion? Was he seeing things due to the shock of Euphemia's death? He was seeing Euphemia. But Euphemia… Euphie was dead. What was this? Was this some sort of cruel joke his body was playing on him? Was this a hallucination? Or simply… Was this a dream?

Suzaku slowly stretched his hand out to touch the princess's pale cheek, expecting her to vanish or for his fingers to pass through nothing. But instead, his fingertips brushed against flesh, soft, smooth skin. It was slightly colder than it should have been, but it was still warm. Catching his breath again, Suzaku jerked his hand away and flushed. "I—I apologize, Princess," he murmured. "I did not mean to touch you so boldly… I just wasn't sure—. I mean…"

Euphemia frowned slightly at his words. "Please, don't worry about it," she insisted, "but I will ask you not to call me Princess Euphemia. I don't like being addressed so formally by a close friend. Call me Euphie, Suzaku, or I will refer to you as Private Kururugi." She eyed Suzaku teasingly. "Well? What do you say?"

"I—I… Yes, Prince— I mean, Euphie," the young knight said, defeated. Euphemia smiled and walked around the room. Suzaku could see that she was wearing a white robe, classic apparel for the deceased Japanese. He cleared his throat. "Erm… Euphie?"

"Yes?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but why are you dressed like that?" Suzaku asked. "I mean, you're Britannian. Those gowns are usually what Japanese souls wear…"

Euphemia leaned against the open window and gazed up at the brilliant full moon shining outside in the inky sky. "Because I chose to wear one," she said simply. "I died here in Japan, and I spent quite a bit of my life here. So, why not?" She turned away from the window and faced Suzaku again. Her large violet eyes were sad. "Suzaku, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill all of those people. I was manipulated, but that is now the past, so you have to move on. I don't want to leave either, but since you called me here—."

"Called you here?" Suzaku interrupted. "But how did I do that? Ah, I'm sorry for cutting you off," he added, flushing again. Euphemia waved the apology off.

"I, that is, my soul, was called here on your behalf," she explained. "When I died… I only remember desperately trying to cling on to my life, and I kept on screaming your name over and over again in my head. I was in darkness for a long time afterwards… All the while with your voice in my mind. But they were just foggy echoes, the shadows of your last words to me. And then… I heard you say my name very clearly, like you were standing beside me. I knew that you were calling me, so I just began to run. I couldn't see where I was headed, but I knew that I would find you. And I did." She reached up to stroke his face, and Suzaku caught her hand and held it between both of his. Just like that afternoon.

"Euphie… Euphie…" he whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to protect you. I should have run faster, attacked Zero, or taken that bullet for you. Your death was my fault; I could have stopped Zero—."

Euphemia gently placed her free hand over Suzaku's mouth and shook her head, immediately silencing him. "My death was not your fault," she said firmly but softly, lowering her hand. "It was my destiny to die today. And I'm sure he has his reasons for doing what he does, Suzaku. He's a brilliant man, but sometimes his methods are not the best. Nevertheless, he wants the best for those whom he cares about." Suzaku opened his green eyes and gazed into her violet ones.

"Who? Zero?" he whispered hoarsely. "Zero is a ruthless murderer. Does he really have such honorable intentions? How would you know, Euphie? He… He was the one who killed you! He shot you mercilessly without any remorse. How could you stand up in his favor?" Anger built slowly in him along with disbelief, but it was all washed away at the sight of Euphemia's expression. She had the most tragic sadness in her eyes, despite the small smile at her lips.

"Please, don't judge Zero too harshly. I know him personally, and he is truly good. He just wants to release the wretched grip my family has upon Japan," she said. "I respect Zero and his intentions, and I believe that he sacrificed me for the sake of the Japanese. I see them abused, Suzaku, treated lower than even the dirtiest dogs, all because of the Britannians. We killed so many of their people and renamed their country Area 11." Euphemia shook her head. "Honestly, I think I understand Zero."

Suzaku swallowed and tucked a stray lock of pink hair behind Euphemia's ear. "Euphie… I don't know if I can understand as well as you do," he admitted. "You are… my first true love. I've loved you since… since you dropped out of the sky and landed in my arms." The memory brought a slight smile to him. "I was really surprised. I mean, I look up and there's a girl falling down, about to land on top of me. I didn't think, honestly, I just held out my arms as a reflex and caught you." He laughed. "It's like the beginning to some odd romance story that you would find in Milly Ashford's purse or something."

Euphemia laughed as well. "You know, I own quite a number of those books as well," she said thoughtfully. "I like to read them to pass time when Cornelia is bragging about her triumphs. Cornelia is a lovely sister, though. But you're right; our beginning was the start of a love story. The boy and girl meet, become friends, and fall in love." She bit her lip. "Are you mad at me, Suzaku?"

The Lancelot pilot raised his eyebrows. "Mad? Euphie, why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I love you," Euphemia murmured, leaning in against his chest. Suzaku removed one of his hands from the princess's and wound it around her shoulders, pulling her close. Euphemia sighed and said, "Sorry, I couldn't stop myself. I may be a princess, but I am still a seventeen-year-old girl. At first, you were my friend, and later my knight. But then I developed feelings for you, Suzaku. I grew to love you like I've never loved anyone before. I just wish that I could have told you sooner…" Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around Suzaku's waist.

Suzaku bit his lip and ran his hand through her hair. "Please, Euphie… don't cry. Don't cry…" he mumbled, but his body betrayed his words as tears of his own ran down his face. He just hugged Euphemia closer and let his emotions span out. He was broken over Euphemia's death, but he was elated, ecstatic that she told him that she loved him back. But… his heart suffered another crushing blow. He was of the living, and she was not. The barrier between life and death forced them apart. It was like being on opposite sides of an unbreakable glass wall; he could see Euphemia, but he could not truly be with her. A cruel glass wall that forced him to watch Euphemia fade away and grow farther and farther from his reach. He knew that she wouldn't be able to stay with him forever. But he didn't want to let go.

As if they had alerted the devil himself, Suzaku felt Euphemia's body become colder and less dense in his arms. Recoiling in shock, he released the princess from his embrace. Euphemia was slowly becoming more transparent. As he glanced out the window and saw the sky turning pearly gray, a bitter wave of realization hit him; Euphie's time was up.

Noticing for herself, Euphemia smiled sadly again and held her hand up to the faint light outside. "It seems that I can no longer stay in the world of the living," she mused. She pulled a ring off of her finger and slid it onto Suzaku's.

"This is a little memento of me," she explained. "I hope it's not too girly for you, Suzaku. It's just a silver band with a small diamond set in it, but I want you to keep it and think of me if you ever want to, okay?"

"E-Euphie," Suzaku started to say, but he was cut off when Euphemia stretched up on her toes and kissed him. It froze him for a moment, but Suzaku kissed her back softly. They broke apart and Euphemia stepped back.

"I wish you a wonderful life, Suzaku Kururugi," she said. "I look forward to seeing you soon, but not too soon, alright? Live life to its fullest." She smiled yet again at him, but happily this time, with no trace of sadness. "I love you."

"I love you as well," Suzaku whispered. "I'll never forget you, Princess Euphemia. Euphie." He bowed deeply and straightened with a smile of his own. "And I wish you the best as well. So… until we meet again, then," he said.

"Until we meet again," Euphemia agreed. She curtsied, and as she did a blinding white light filled the room. Suzaku threw his arm over his eyes, and when he lowered it, Euphemia was gone. In her place was a single pink rose. Suzaku walked over and picked it up. He sat down on his bed and felt tears again. "Euphie…"

-o-

Bright patches of red and orange filled the insides of Suzaku's eyelids. Sunlight streamed through the open window and splayed across his face and the brown locks spilled across his pillow, waking him up.

"Hm? What happened…?" Blinking sleepily, Suzaku sat up and yawned. Apparently, he had fallen asleep. Casting a glance at the digital clock on his nightstand, he noticed that is was past noon already. Oh well; Lloyd would understand. The knight combed his fingers through his sleep-mussed curls and closed his eyes again. That dream last night; he had dreamed of Euphemia. She had visited him, and told him she loved him. She had even kissed him…

Shaking his head, Suzaku muttered, "That's unhealthy, to be dreaming things like that." But the dream had been so vivid, so realistic. However, Euphemia was dead. She couldn't have visited him. And as much as he wished it to be true, her death had not been a dream. Euphemia was really gone, killed by Zero.

Suzaku was about to clench his left fist when he became aware that his fingers were curled around something. He brought his hand up to his eyes and his eyes widened.

A pink rose.

Suddenly, brilliant warmth that had nothing to do with the sun filled him. Euphemia! It wasn't a dream after all! With newfound jubilance in him, Suzaku held up his hand and turned it so that the diamond in the ring caught the line. It tossed beautiful rainbows across the room, splashing the walls with hundreds of prisms.

"Euphie… thank you," Suzaku murmured. He got up and set the rose carefully in the vase on his windowsill and walked over to the dresser where his oversized T-shirt was still on the floor, forgotten in the events of the previous night. He picked it up and pulled it over his head, shivering slightly at the contact of the cool cotton against his warm skin. There was an odd sort of happiness in him inexplicably. He should have been crushed with grief. He should have been in denial. And he should have felt a pure, black hatred for Zero for killing his love. But there was nothing but that happiness inside of Suzaku. Just that one emotion, the emotion Euphemia had left with him. She had asked him to lead a happy life, and he would comply. She left him, in addition to the ring and rose, a third gift that would remind him of her.

Euphoria.

-o-


Hm... This was supposed to be pretty sad, but it's not really... I'm an epic failure. L'anyhoodle, I like this pairing, and I was heartbroken for Suzaku when Euphemia died. So I decided to try and patch his heart in any way I could, and this fic resulted. I think I sort of pulled a piece out of Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles and put it in this story... I'm not a romantic, being a twelve-year-old nerd, so it wasn't as sweet as I hoped it would be. Ah... -is shot by Suzaku's Lancelot- I'd love your comments on this, and flames are allowed. By the way, "Loving Lady Death" is an actual story. It's a vampire story

written by Théophile Gautier, originally titled "La Morte Amoureuse". I just had this huge book full of vampire stories open to that story on my desk, and a vampie plunnie crawled out form the pages and claimed me as a victim.