Chapter Text
Chapter 1
C.E. 73, Orb…
Two years after the end of the Bloody Valentine War…
Months after Zero Requiem…
UFN Special Representative Nunnally vi Britannia was as elegant and gentle-looking as the first time he had seen her picture.
Now blossomed into womanhood, but forever confined to a wheelchair, Athrun Zala briefly wondered if she would have been as tall as her brother. At the thought of her full-blooded brother, Athrun banished those dark thoughts away. He did not need it lingering here and now.
Yet, even stripped of her status as a former royal member of Britannia, she still carried herself within the wheelchair with poise and grace.
Beside Athrun, Cagalli held herself proud and tall; shoulders squared back, and began to walk forward. It took Athrun all of his will and then some more to hold himself still where he was. He had to remind himself that the man called Zero, pushing the UFN Special Representative’s wheelchair, was not a threat.
Zero had killed ‘Demon’ Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia, bringing an unprecedented era of peace into the world with the collapse and breaking of Britannia. Regardless of being a ‘savior of the world’ or not, Athrun was not keen on an assassin – former or otherwise – being so near Cagalli.
But, he held himself still, his hands by his side and not resting upon his sidearm; this was for the sake of continued peace.
Athrun heard the murmured pleasantries exchanged between Cagalli and Special Representative vi Britannia. Then, Zero stepped to the side, and Cagalli took his place behind the wheelchair.
The small group approached; a few UFN guards that lingered further away following at distance – their perimeter spread similar to Orb’s guards. All watched for any threats that the personal bodyguards of the two women may not have caught.
Athrun also scanned for threats with a keen eye, but it was the gait and the way Zero carried himself, that caught some of his attention. The way the masked man walked – the swing of arms, and even how his feet came down upon the thin red carpet – they were incredibly familiar.
Public reports had declared Knight of Zero, Kururugi Suzaku, dead during the battle over Mount Fuji to control the Damocles. Yet, had Athrun not been there – even readily retrieved Kururugi in the aftermath, if only to try to shake some sense into him – no…
His observations, his knowledge of just how Kururugi carried himself, how ridiculously athletic Kururugi was for Natural came from a very long time ago – seemingly a life time ago, during more innocent times. Walking this close to Zero, Athrun was quite certain that Zero was Kururugi.
He kept his expression as still and disinterested as possible; disheartening and conflicting feelings bubbled up within him. The memories of what had happened between himself and Kira in the Bloody Valentine War were too close to what he now understood to have happened just months ago.
Zero had killed ‘Demon’ Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia; Kururugi had killed his best friend.
~~~
Elsewhere, in the secluded Marshall Islands…
Kira pressed the button on the remote to turn the volume up a little on the television, as he shut the water off and began to dry the dishes. The soft footsteps of Lacus approached from behind.
“Fever is down for now,” Lacus softly said, as she entered, and opened the refrigerator to place the cold pack back in.
“But still not yet awake?” Kira gently asked, flicking his eyes from the television to her for a brief moment.
“No,” she answered, shaking her head, as she took out a fresh pack and closed the door. In an effort to distract her own troubling thoughts, she turned her attention to the television. “Ara, is that former Princess Nunnally? She’s very elegant-looking.”
At the camera’s zoomed in view of the UFN’s Special Representative, Kira smiled. He had only seen a picture of the former princess once – long ago – but, it had been clear that her brother was absolutely fond of her.
Now…
Kira sighed and glanced down. It should have ended, the war between Naturals and Coordinators. And while it had, no one had predicted what Britannia had done in the aftermath.
Nor had anyone predicted the rise of ‘Demon’ Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia.
“Lelouch, why…?”
“Kira?”
Kira shook his head; Lacus hadn’t heard his melancholic whisper. “Nothing, Lacus.”
Whether his beloved accepted his flimsy excuse to cover his own worries or not, she didn’t press. Instead, she closed the distance, and briefly embraced him. He returned it, and she let go and stepped back.
It was enough to comfort him for now, as Lacus went to retrieve a set of clean towels and a fresh bowl of water. Then, without another word, she returned to tend to their ill, comatose guest.
Left alone in the still silence of the kitchen, Kira absently finished wiping the dish clean and placed it on the counter top stand. The camera had zoomed out and was now focused on a wider view of the place.
It was not Cagalli pushing the UFN Special Representative’s wheelchair that startled him, but rather Athrun – or Alex Dino, Athrun’s alias. Athrun was walking next to Zero. The two were not in conversation, but Kira was struck by just how familiar it looked.
“It can’t be…” he couldn’t help but murmur.
As the camera lingered upon the small group headed indoors now, Kira bit the bottom of his lip. Sadness tugged at him, the loss of camaraderie and close friendships from long ago; now irreversibly torn apart by war and death…
* * *
C. E. 68, Luna Colony, Lunar Academy…
“Go pick on someone your own size!”
Kira heard the distinct smack of a foot against the leather school bag, before footsteps scrambled up and away. He wiped at his mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of pain lancing through where the bully had landed his punches.
A firm hand gripped his arm and hauled him up the rest of the way. “Again, Kira?”
Athrun’s exasperation was laced with fondness. Kira had heard it so many times before, the smile that tugged at his lips automatic. Though, the lingering sniffles from his crying earlier ruined the effect ever so slightly.
He winced, as his lips pulled at the bruise that was rapidly forming. He had bitten into his cheek, but the bleeding had already stopped. It was now just a matter of some patience and time for him to heal.
“Seven times now. There’s no shame in running, you know,” Athrun conversationally stated.
Kira felt his best friend quickly pat him down to briefly clean most of the dirt and debris off him. There was no cleaning the area where the sleeve of his uniform had landed in the puddle of liquid that leaked out of the garbage bins though.
“Not when they were looking to take that little girl’s lunch,” Kira said, as they stepped out of the alleyway and resumed walking to the academy. “She got away safely, that’s all that matters.”
Beside him, Athrun merely huffed out a little sigh. Then, Kira felt him sling an arm around his shoulders for a brief moment, hugging him close.
It was not a long walk from where Kira had distracted the bullies to the academy’s campus. The vast and beautiful courtyard greeted them. Spring at the Lunar Academy meant that the artificial trees were covered in budding green and many types of flowing blossoms including sakura, peach, and orange. The temperature of the domed colony on the Lunar surface was thankfully kept at a moderate temperature, if not just a hair elevated to mimic a hint of actual spring and into summer temperatures.
The colony’s weather system would never get up or down to the temperatures on Earth in both the southern and northern hemispheres in their respective summer or winter seasons. Not only was it a waste of energy to fully mimic Earth’s seasons, it would tax the system beyond limits. Happy colonists and visitors made living in Luna Colony enjoyable.
Cheerfully greeting classmates, both Kira and Athrun headed into the building. A few girls they passed worried after him, bringing another flush to his cheeks. He never knew what to do whenever they expressed their concerns; Athrun was almost always of no help.
Instead, Athrun merely pulled him along and to the lockers. As they changed out of their outdoor shoes and into indoor ones – all to help the air scrubbers – Kira found himself looking at another academy uniform jacket.
“You forgot to bring yours again. Here, take my spare for today,” Athrun said, waving his spare jacket in front of him.
“Thanks,” Kira answered, coloring slightly in embarrassment.
He shed his jacket and hung it on the hanger. Athrun wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell coming from the still-drying sleeve. It hadn’t smelled too terrible when wet, but it was becoming clear that as it dried, the smell was probably going to be unbearable.
Kira put on Athrun’s spare jacket and buttoned it up quickly, snapping the collar close with a firm click . It was a little larger and looser, the sleeves slightly longer than his own, but that was because Athrun had begun to grow a little taller than him. They were not even a full month into the two-year intensive course at the academy, and his best friend was already beginning to grow out of the uniform.
Kira hoped that he didn’t have a growth spurt; his scholarship at the Lunar Academy only covered so much. His parents’ income from where they lived and worked in Orb didn’t allow him to live on the academy campus like so many others. His work at Dr. Yamagata’s lab after classes gave him just enough to rent a tiny apartment, and buy basic staples.
Meanwhile Athrun had taken the soiled jacket from the hanger, and sprayed a burst of odor neutralizing smell onto the sleeve. It worked against the outdoor shoes they wore, but Kira was doubtful it would hold up against whatever had soaked into his sleeve.
Strangely enough, he saw Athrun fold and stash the uniform onto the bottom of the locker, before placing his shoes over it. Kira gave him a puzzled look. Athrun shrugged. They both hoped that perhaps the flimsy excuse that if the smell crept up again, they could blame it on the outdoor shoes.
“Don’t forget to go see the nurse about that, Kira,” Athrun reminded him.
Athrun’s hand and outstretched fingers hovered lightly over the cheek and area where the bullies had managed to land a hit upon him. But, his friend did not touch him, and merely sighed again.
Kira patted Athrun’s lowered hand. “I will. Thank you, Athrun. I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”
“Sure,” the snort of laughter was all he needed to know that Athrun was no longer angry at him for standing up to bullies without him there.
His best friend was usually the one beating up the bullies that constantly harassed him. Today though, Kira could not bear the sight of the bullies going after a young girl in the middle school that was adjacent to the academy. It had hurt, being hit, but he had endured it, even though he had cried.
The bullies were students of the academy; Coordinators from the PLANTs who thought of themselves better than he – an Earth-born Coordinator.
In this mixed academy of Naturals and Coordinators, they were careful with their actions though. They only went after him, the lone Earth-born Coordinator; never attacking or even acknowledging the existence of Naturals – even in classes. They did nothing overt within the academy grounds to warrant punishment from administrators or instructors.
Additionally, they were sons of high ranking or wealthy Coordinators. Even Athrun, who recognized them, but didn’t know them, could only beat them up in retaliation. Athrun had no clout with their families to tell them to completely leave him, Kira, alone.
Kira appreciated his friend’s intervention, but it always worried him that there would eventually be some consequence for Athrun’s defense of him. From the jeers that some of the bullies, he gathered that Athrun’s father was a member of the Luna Council, representing PLANTs.
The position while seemingly prestigious in Kira’s eyes, was apparently not in those Coordinators’ eyes. Yet, Athrun never spoke of it, opinion or otherwise.
Kira shook his head to clear his slightly despairing thoughts. He left for his class, a very interesting course in artificial neural networks and programming.
He shared only a couple of classes with Athrun, owing that most of his were geared towards algorithm creations and research. Kira wanted to work on making colonies and everything that went into making lives habitable and comfortable, better.
Athrun had chosen a more mechanically inclined; a cross between piloting and robotics-like path that the academy offered in their two-year intensive course. Kira knew that Athrun either wanted to be a shuttle pilot, or work on designing or operating something close to those legendary Britannian Knightmares.
The latter half was more difficult to achieve, due in part to the ban imposed upon Coordinators living in the PLANTs from operating Knightmares. Kira heard of a minor skirmish that happened a few years ago between a joint group of Britannian and Eurasian Federation cargo haulers, and Coordinators on a PLANT colony, when the cargo haulers were delivering supplies. The fallout from that skirmish was the ban and destruction of any Knightmare in the PLANTs.
Coordinators were not stopped from taking courses related to the robotics path, as there were plenty of other career choices that needed robotics knowledge. Kira only knew of Athrun’s desire to become an actual Knightmare pilot, in confidence.
The Lunar Academy’s two-year intensive course was open to Naturals and Coordinators, dedicated to developing most of the student body towards research and development in various fields – ranging from political science to pure theoretical physics, and everything in between. While most Naturals who attended were close to graduating college with Bachelors or Masters degrees, most Coordinators who attended were a few years younger.
It was rare to see Naturals that were his and Athrun’s age attending. So when Kira slipped into the classroom and took his seat near the back of the classroom, he was slightly surprised to see a young man standing near the front of the room. The instructor also looked slightly nervous.
The young man had an uninterested, aloof look upon his expression; framed by dark brown – almost black hair – and a most peculiar set of vibrantly violet eyes that reminded Kira of amethysts. Even stranger were the anxious whispers of the Naturals scattered around the room; they recognized the young man.
Kira thought he looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Class, settle down please,” the instructor stepped forward as the bell chimed – the start of the class period.
“I’d like to introduce to you a new student who is starting with us today. Some of you may recognize him, but regardless, I would like you to join me in welcoming Lelouch vi Britannia, Eleventh Prince and seventeenth in line for the throne of Britannia.”
For a second, the instructor was the only one clapping; the students gaping like goldfishes. Then, Kira joined in, and a split second later, everyone else followed. It didn’t escape Kira’s notice at just how nervous the Naturals in the classroom looked. Even stranger, the Coordinators looked uneasy as well.
Kira was aware that the Britannian Empire had elements that spouted harsh rhetoric against Coordinators; the motto ‘for a pure and blue world’ being associated with Natural extremists. However, he thought that it was offset with some of the princes and princesses of the Empire, and their public speeches and charities.
Two prominent ones that came to mind were the young, vibrantly bubbly Princess Euphemia, and her older half-brother, Prince Clovis. Both patronized the arts, and were known to spread the goodwill of Britannia art across the world. Orb’s Art History Museum even hosted a few of Clovis’ paintings.
Prince Lelouch vi Britannia attending Lunar Academy at or around most of the Coordinators’ ages was saying something quite prominent about his intelligence. Kira knew that there was only one other Natural in the academy near the prince’s age; all others in their cohort in their early twenties.
“Ah, Prince Lelouch, would you like to say a few words?” the instructor asked as the claps died quickly.
There was a sharp shake of the prince’s head. Nervously, the instructor continued, “Then, please, it is not ideal, but it seems like the only seat available at the moment is next to where Mr. Yamato is sitting. If it pleases you, we do not have assigned seats in this classroom, but I am willing to ensure that one is reserved to your preference for the next class.”
Kira saw the prince give a rather disdainful look at the instructor, before taking his school bag up. As the prince approached and dropped rather suddenly and unceremoniously into the seat next to him, Kira tried to put on a cheerful, friendly face – even though his bruise still pulled against his skin.
“Hi,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m Kira. Kira Yamato.”
Those ethereal violet eyes flicked over at him for a moment before they returned to the front of the room. Kira faltered for a moment, before the ghost of Athrun’s voice popped into his head, telling him to ignore the slight; the lesson was starting.
Kira withdrew his hand and returned his attention to the front, his fingers already flying across his keyboard as he took notes. On the upper left corner of his screen, he also began to work on implementing the algorithm they were learning today, even though they had not yet received an assignment.
Movement out of the corner of his eyes gave him interesting insight; the prince had pulled out his own laptop and also began to take notes. The edges of Kira’s lips quirked up in a small smile as he saw a tiny secondary window in the lower left corner; the prince was also working on a small, unprompted side-project related to the algorithm.
Perhaps as aloof and unfriendly as the prince was, at least the coursework interested him.
* * *
Physical education and exercise were a required part of the two-year intensive course, but for those who had chosen the pilot path, they had extra sessions. Pilots of all flavors – military, shuttle, or even cargo haulers had to be able to endure the varying gravity wells generated by colony, Luna, or even Earth. Even more, they had to be able to learn how to fly and maneuver in zero-gravity, especially if and when pursued by raiders in space.
Most of the students in Athrun’s extra classes were military; sent to Luna by their nation’s service academies to finish out their education at Luna before being commissioned. Of the Coordinators, none were military; all civilian and hoping to become shuttle or cargo pilots. The PLANTs were forbidden to even have a militia due to what had happened in that incident between Britannian and Eurasian Federation cargo haulers, on the PLANT colony, Aprilius-10.
Since the beginning of the school year, there had been no mixing between the two disparate groups of people. Naturals, especially those military, kept to themselves and Coordinators as well.
Athrun had not wanted to associate with a couple of the Coordinators, since they were the ones who had initially bullied Kira. He had managed to come to a sort-of truce with the two bullies; they had left Kira alone. But, he didn’t have classes with the other Coordinators that kept beating Kira up.
Tracking them down on campus, and throwing harsh words only did so much. Athrun knew he was jeopardizing his father’s tenuous position as PLANT representative on the Luna Council, the more he fought against the bullies. The bullies had wealth, influence, and the ear of the current Chairman of the PLANTs, via their parents.
“All right students, lines of eight,” their instructor stated, clapping her hands together.
Today was the culmination of the first two weeks’ training and evaluation to determine their personal training for the rest of the year. A personalized set of coursework would be generated from accumulated data, to help them get ready for the rest of the pilot path and courses for the rest of their time at Lunar Academy.
It was no surprise to Athrun to see the Coordinators jostle for position at the front; the track could only hold so many lines. He rolled his eyes in disgust and deliberately stomped to the back, passing by the military Naturals; the second group. He even passed by the third group, those Naturals who had no military background, but wanted to be pilots, nonetheless.
The slight delay in time in which he would set off would probably affect his scoring, but Athrun rather have it affected, than be in the middle of what looked to be a potentially bad clash between the arrogant Coordinators and even more arrogant military Naturals.
“What? Here to just make fun of the rest of us Naturals for our lack of unnatural athleticism or enhanced genes?”
Athrun glanced over. The lone Natural teenager in the cohort had made that sneering comment. Lanky-looking with unruly brown hair and startling green eyes that reminded Athrun of emeralds, the teenager was unusual. Not just because it was extremely rare that a Natural near his age was attending Lunar Academy, but also because the teenager was also quite athletically gifted.
Suzaku Kururugi kept up with the twenty-something Naturals in the evaluations and training so far. He had even beat out not just those Naturals not of the military, but also some of the military Naturals.
Athrun knew that the young man was the son of Japan’s Prime Minister, Genbu Kururugi, but it was quite strange to see the son of the Japanese Prime Minister in the pilot path at the academy. He would have thought the young man to lean towards political science, or something.
“Could say the same about you and what you’re doing to those ahead,” Athrun answered.
The retort didn’t get to fall from Kururugi’s lips, and neither did Athrun goad him any further. The instructor blew her whistle, starting the evaluation.
The Coordinators ahead surged far and fast, away from the other groups quite quickly. Another whistle blast, and the military group of Naturals sprinted away. A few seconds later, the third whistle launched the non-military Naturals. Finally, it was his and Kururugi’s turn.
At the whistle, Athrun launched, pushing from the block with all of his strength. He sprinted down the lane, not as fast as he could, but at a pace that he knew he was able to sustain. This was a test of endurance, and if anything, he suspected that running laps around the track was not going to be the only thing they were doing.
To his surprise, he saw Kururugi keeping pace with him. The teenager wasn’t even breathing as harshly as Athrun expected. Yet, motion ahead returned Athrun’s attention to the forefront.
They both passed the non-military Naturals without incident, the bunched up group thinned out into a single line on the innermost track. Yet, as both he and Kururugi cleared the line, a new ‘obstacle’ laid before them: a minor scuffle happening between the military Naturals whom had finally caught up with straggler Coordinators.
That scuffle, was unfortunately, spreading into Athrun’s lane—and now, into Kururugi’s lane with a deliberate trip from the Coordinator to one of the forefront military Naturals. As undignified shouts and curses filled the air, Athrun glanced over – Kururugi still kept pace and was not moving over.
A slight swell of irritation filled Athrun. He refused to speed up to run in front of Kururugi, not wanting to be the first to encounter anything unexpected from the rapidly growing furball of entanglement between the military Naturals and Coordinators.
Athrun deliberately slowed his pace a hair, and darted behind Kururugi. The young man began to take a diagonal course to get away from the fight that was breaking out in the middle of the track. Athrun followed.
Whistle blasts from the trainer were doing little, but Athrun saw it a split second before it happened. One of the Coordinators had spotted the two of them, and was determined to drag one or both of them into the fight.
Athrun refused to allow that Coordinator to ruin his score and assessment by tripping Kururugi – whom was in front of him. He snapped forward, rapidly closing the distance to himself and Kururugi. With an outstretched hand that intercepted the incoming grasp of the Coordinator, Athrun grasped the hand and deliberately snapped and twisted his arm in.
The sound of bone popping couldn’t be heard over the din or whistle blasts, but the Coordinator crumpled quite easily. Ignoring the flash of surprise across Kururugi’s expression, Athrun let go and bounded over the Coordinator’s bent form.
He resumed keeping pace beside Kururugi, the whistle blasts fading rapidly. Athrun knew that he could increase his pace, but that would just cause him to catch up with the mess on the track faster – and potentially get entangled again.
It seemed that their instructor had also given up on trying to break up the fight as well. Out of the corner of his eyes, Athrun saw her go to the podium near the stands and press a few things upon the screen.
The clank and crank of gears, along with the shifting of parts and pieces of the track brought a satisfied smirk to Athrun’s lips. He had been right; the assessment did not consist of just running around the track – it was an obstacle course.
In the distance, he heard the shouts of the other students; their surprise and realization that the assessment was still on-going. It was not quite automatic, but more of a mutual thought that seemed to pass between himself and Kururugi. They both shared a look with each other, before briefly glancing back to see the groups trying to untangle themselves as several obstacles began to rise up and around them.
“Shall we?” Kururugi said, a hint of absurd humor within his eyes.
Athrun couldn’t help the snort that fell out in response. “Sure.”
Their pace increased slightly. Athrun was again, quite surprised that despite running for a while now, Kururugi still did not show signs of faltering. Nor was the Natural teenager breathing harshly.
The first obstacles they both encountered were hurdles. Athrun cleared them easily, his pace not even slowing. Beside him, Kururugi kept up – unnerving Athrun ever so slightly.
Then, it was rope climbing up a 70% grade ‘hill’, that was followed by swinging bar to bar across a nine-by-nine-meter drop onto the hard track. Athrun didn’t even pay attention to Kururugi anymore, his attention completely on clearing each and every obstacle within his way.
Yet, when he suddenly put his right foot incorrectly on the cargo netting in an attempt to hurry up to zip line and slipped, a sudden hand darted out and grasped his own. Kururugi was just a couple of rope lanes above him, and had snagged him tightly to keep him from falling.
Athrun smacked against the cargo netting, his legs and free hand twisting around the ropes again to steady himself. Secured, he looked up; Kururugi’s worried look disappearing into a more neutral one. The young man nodded once before letting go and resumed his climb.
It took Athrun a moment to snap out of his surprise, before he too started to climb again. His arms and legs burned, and he was starting to feel exhaustion creep on as he clung onto the zip line to ride to the next obstacle.
That hint of exhaustion was also starting to be shown as he and Kururugi continued on, tackling each obstacle thereafter with more effort than before. On either side of the tracks, there were others of their class tagged out – their limits reached. Still, at least half a course and ‘lap’ behind, were a few more – mostly Coordinators.
It was finally tackling the fifth ‘lap’ of the obstacle course, that both he and Kururugi finally tapped out. They were the last ones to do so; everyone else either tapped out from just on the first lap’s scuffle, or by the third lap – done.
Athrun flopped over onto the artificial turf arm draped over his eyes, just as Kururugi collapsed onto his hands and knees beside him.
Strangely, he didn’t understand why a bubble of laughter erupted from his lips, as he drew his arm away and turned his head to the side to stare at the teenager. The strange feeling seemed to be mutual, as Kururugi chuckled in between his gasps for breath.
“Kururugi. Zala,” their instructor stated, as her shadow briefly covered both of them.
Athrun looked up to see a faint smile upon her lips.
“Congratulations. You’ve both set a new record for the academy. One that I don’t believe will be touched for quite a while. Your evaluations will be ready by week’s end. For the rest of the week, I’d advise that you’d not repeat what you’ve done today again, and take it a little more easy. I’ll let the chefs at the cafeteria know to cook up specialized meals for both of you at lunch so that you can recover your strength. Just tell them my name.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Athrun answered at nearly the same time Kururugi did as well.
The instructor left, but Athrun still did not feel like getting up yet. Neither did Kururugi, apparently, whom had now curled up to sit cross-legged and faced him.
“Thank you for blocking that strike into turn four, Zala,” Kururugi murmured.
Athrun supposed that he should actually thank the teenager for catching him before he fell from the cargo netting. “And thank you for catching me on that cargo netting.”
He wasn’t sure if it was a faint smile or grimace that briefly flitted across Kururugi’s expression, but the teenager nodded in acknowledgment. Then, Kururugi gave him a curious look.
“You sure you’re not a Natural-born?”
At that, Athrun couldn’t help but snort in laughter. “As sure as you are not a Coordinator, Kururugi.”
The laughter that passed between them was amicable and lighthearted. Enough that Athrun thought he may have just made his first friend who was not a Coordinator.
* * *
Lelouch didn’t want to be here.
There was no rhyme or reason for him to be at the Lunar Academy when he had been doing just fine in his classes at the prestigious Avalon Academy just outside of Pendragon. Yet, it had not been his father who had ordered him to attend, but rather his mother. She had been the one to press him to take the exams for Lunar Academy – ostensibly just to see how well he would score.
Against Coordinators, Lelouch didn’t really care about his scores. He knew he would be beaten; his mother’s insistence on taking the exam somewhat humiliating to himself. Coordinators were all genetically enhanced to be better than ‘Naturals’; those born without genetic modifications done before or at conception.
He hated that word; ‘Naturals’.
Lelouch didn’t want the humiliation of being called ‘stupid’ or ‘dumb’ by those unnaturally enhanced people. He rather enjoyed being the top ranked student in Avalon Academy. Completing all of his assignments with time to spare had allowed him to develop quite a few interesting hobbies.
Now, his mother had forced him to throw all of that away. Had sent him here nearly two weeks into the apparent two-year intensive course that he had qualified for. Had ripped him away from Nunnally with only a brief embrace and hurried goodbye.
Stranger in a strange world wasn’t what Lelouch would have called what he stepped into, with the first class that he had signed up for. It was quite apparent that the administrators didn’t know what to do with him, nor give him a proper course curriculum. Therefore, Lelouch had just scanned the offerings and picked out the first thing that sounded interesting.
When first introduced, Lelouch had expected the visceral reactions from the Coordinators within the artificial neural network class. They dominated the seats; their youth betraying the fact that they were clearly around his age, yet were capable of understanding such concepts.
Britannia was after all, the loudest of the nations to spew anti-Coordinator rhetoric.
He had also been surprised to see a handful of non-Coordinators – the clearly twenty-somethings in the class. None were from Britannia though; most from the Chinese Federation, and a couple from the Eurasian Federation.
Both Federations also detested Britannia’s presence via sabre rattling aggression, and annexing of territories through ‘historical’ claims.
Clearly, Lelouch had chosen the wrong class to attend, as he had been seated next to a Coordinator. However, instead of hostility or even micro-aggression that he had expected, the Coordinator had unexpectedly greeted him in a friendly manner.
Lelouch had thought of it a trap, and thus ignored the Coordinator whom looked half-Japanese, and oddly reminded him of Nunnally.
Yet, either the Coordinator was completely dense – impossible, a part of him thought – or had absolutely no fear, and had offered to give him a brief tour of the area before the lunch hour began. Curious, but with some caution, Lelouch now found himself wandering academy grounds with the young man named Kira Yamato.
“… and that hall over there leads to the two Olympic-sized swimming pools and diving pool. We also have a separate pool for the water polo teams to practice in. Apparently there’s also a sauna and something resembling an onsen somewhere down that hall as well. I haven’t been to or seen them yet.”
“Anyways,” Yamato began, stopping for a brief moment. “Are you hungry? The rush for lunch happens in about a half-hour, but I figured that you’d want to take a good look at the menu first. There’s always a lot to choose from.”
There had to be some oddity or something wrong with the young man. Lelouch had never heard of Kira Yamato; most everyone he had seen on the academy’s rosters was an offspring of someone leader, minister, representative, or military affiliation of importance on either Earth or the PLANTs. Even he himself was one of the princes – albeit a favored prince – of Britannia.
Yamato’s public profile on the roster said that he came from Orb, but Lelouch did not know of any minister or representative in Orb with the surname of Yamato. He knew Orb was the only nation who had a mixed demographic of non-Coordinators and Coordinators living peacefully. Albeit, he wasn’t sure if the ‘peaceful’ part was propaganda or otherwise.
Yet, for all intents and purposes, Yamato seemed like a complete nobody who just happened to attend Lunar Academy.
Lelouch shrugged at Yamato’s suggestion.
He was rather curious as to why this Orb Coordinator seemed to want to befriend him. Most wanted his ‘friendship’ for influence or favors. Lelouch detested that; lesson learned from childhood. Nevertheless, not once did Yamato even bring up his status as Prince of Britannia or even as a non-Coordinator.
Cheerfully, Yamato led him to the vast cafeteria, where there were small booths all along the walls to give the illusion of privacy. Circular tables dominated the common area though; different than the rectangular ones at Avalon Academy.
Lelouch was a little disconcerted by the fact that there were no rectangular tables. He was used to establishing a so-called pecking order with the rest of the Avalon Academy student body when it came to rectangular tables. Here, everyone sat… equally.
Somewhat equally, he had to amend, as his eyes swept over the entire cafeteria. Small groups of Coordinators still sat together, separated by at least two tables – if not more – from equally small groups of non-Coordinators.
“Come on, this way to the menu and ordering screen, Lelouch,” Yamato called out.
Lelouch raised an eyebrow, the liberty that Yamato had taken at using his name without any sort of honorifics apparently lost on the young man. Still he did not press the issue, finding it strangely refreshing that not only was there a Coordinator who did not fear his status, but also that Yamato didn’t even seem to care for his status.
At the ordering screen and menu, Lelouch stared at the meal options – some extremely exotic to the point where he didn’t even know what it was, and others completely mundane. A part of him heard the giggled whisper of his sister within his thoughts – to order something completely contrary and mundane.
With the travel from Earth to Luna, and the strangeness of starting in a new school that was already a couple of weeks into the year, Lelouch felt his resistance in sensibilities rapidly waning. He reached out and touched the most mundane thing he could find on the menu: a simple hamburger and fries.
It was completely unhealthy, but at least it would help him cope with the fact that he was not even a full two days away from Earth, and he already missed Nunnally. Whether it was solidarity or Yamato had absolutely no compunctions about eating as unhealthy has Lelouch had opted to, the young Coordinator ordered pizza.
They retrieved their orders shortly thereafter. Lelouch couldn’t help but notice that Kira was already moving forward and into the vast hall, his trajectory taking him towards a table that looked to be occupied by two people.
“Come on, Lelouch! I want to introduce you to a friend of mine,” Yamato said, before Lelouch was able to fumble an excuse to go sit elsewhere – and not with Yamato, or Yamato’s friend.
Lelouch silently sighed. It was easy to just say ‘no’ and be done with it. Yet, curiosity and something strangely compelled him to continue to follow Yamato.
They carried their trays over to the table, though as they got closer, both occupants looked up from the rather astonishingly high-calorie lunches both were consuming. One was a dark blue-haired young man with verdant-green eyes with a Eurasian appearance about him; the other with tousled brown hair and forest-green eyes whom looked somewhat Asian. Both were at or around his and Yamato’s ages.
It was also abundantly clear that both recognized him.
“Hey Athrun!” Yamato chirped. “This is—”
“Prince Lelouch—” the dark blue-haired teenager growled.
“—vi Britannia,” the other teenager angrily stated.
Yamato blanched, clearly startled at just how furious the two sitting at the table were. “Um…”
“Kira, get away—”
“You know, it’s poor manners to not even introduce yourselves,” Lelouch cut in, before the dark blue-haired teenager could finish. “Whomever both of you are, I didn’t think that you’d be sent here without proper manners instilled.”
They bristled. Lelouch ignored the fact that Yamato had quickly put his tray down and was holding up his hands between the two sitting and himself, as if trying to play peacemaker.
He ignored Yamato and the other teenagers for a brief moment. Two groups of Coordinators sat a few tables away, while what looked like a small group of non-Coordinators sat in a booth opposite of them. All three groups had taken a sudden interest in what was happening at this table.
More specifically, Lelouch noticed that the three groups had taken a rather keen interest in the brown-haired, green-eyed teenager.
Curious…
The clink of utensils being placed on the metal tray drew Lelouch’s attention back to the teenagers. The dark blue-hair one slowly stood up, drawing himself to his full height, which was just a hair taller than Lelouch. Then, the brown-haired one did the same, though he was at the same height as Lelouch.
“Athrun Zala,” the dark blue-haired one stated.
Lelouch kept his expression blank, even as his thoughts raced. The surname of Zala was not common in nobles of the Eurasian Federation, but within the PLANTS…
Lelouch had heard and seen the name of Zala through news networks due to the vitriolic rhetoric that PLANT Representative Patrick Zala spewed. It was a direct counterpart to the same kind of rhetoric that many Britannians – his own father included – spoke of with regards to Coordinators, except Patrick Zala spoke against non-Coordinators.
So this is Patrick Zala’s son.
“Kururugi Suzaku,” the brown-haired teenager broke into Lelouch’s thoughts.
Lelouch’s lips twitched slightly as he fought to keep the absurdity of what he had walked into, off his expression.
Japanese Prime Minister Genbu Kururugi’s son was attending Lunar Academy as well. The very country that Britannia had been pushing – politically, of course – against for a fairer treaty lately – all because the nation controlled seventy percent of the world’s sakuradite.
Sakuradite which powered Britannia’s Knightmares.
Of all of his luck, Yamato had to befriend Zala. It seemed that Zala also had a strange friendship or at least was acquainted with Kururugi. The two certainly did not look like they were friends.
He didn’t think Kururugi was intelligent or smart enough to attend such an academy at his age, but it was apparently a poor assumption to have been made. Both he and Kururugi were the only non-Coordinators not in their twenties to attend.
That was something significant, and Lelouch noticed that those other Coordinators and non-Coordinators sitting a few tables and booths away were still interested in what was happening. If they expected a fight, Lelouch was not going to give it to them.
Physical fights were messy, and Lelouch held a great amount of disdain for doing anything physical. There were knights and other people who could throw punches. Yet, even with the revelations, he could not discern just what kept the Coordinators and non-Coordinators attention upon this table.
Lelouch was certain that it was not the fact that Patrick Zala’s son and Genbu Kururugi’s son were eating lunch together in a civil manner. Nor had it stemmed from his lack of presence before now.
Yet again, curiosity got the better of him.
“Hmph,” he huffed, going to the other side of the table and deliberately placed his tray down. “It’s obviously against academy rules to start a fight on campus, so I suppose that a more civil discussion can be had.”
“About your aggressive policies towards Japan?” Kururugi spat out.
“Or about your wildly false propaganda against Coordinators?” Zala swiftly followed up.
“Athrun…” Yamato nervously began, worriedly looking at Zala.
“United they stand, divided they fall,” Lelouch simply stated, cutting up his hamburger into appropriate bite-sized pieces with his fork and knife. He was not going to be a barbarian and eat it piece by piece by chomping bits off with each bite.
He flicked his eyes up, catching both Zala and Kururugi narrowing their eyes slightly. He half-snorted as he smirked; the two certainly were quite quick in catching the full meaning of the simple phrase.
United against a common enemy – namely himself or rather his representation as Britannia – the two had nearly dissolved any of the old prejudices between non-Coordinators and Coordinators. That in itself seemed almost like a miracle.
“All right,” Zala stated, slowly sinking back down into his chair.
A second later, Kururugi did the same. “Let’s talk, Britannian.”
Lelouch ignored the audible, relieved sigh coming from Yamato.
~*~*~*~