Chapter Text
Tamaki Shinichiro was generally a people-person. That’s why he was in charge of the new recruits' dinner parties for the Black Knights, before Zero put a stop to that due to some misperceived notion that Tamaki was irresponsible with money. It was a total exaggeration! Regardless, Tamaki was not irresponsible with people. He’d helped grow the Black Knights’ numbers dramatically—not that Zero ever acknowledged those efforts—and he’d also helped the newbies learn the ropes. Many of them had never touched Knightmares before joining up. Tamaki could admit, after a few drinks, that he had trouble following orders and that he could be a bit on the crass side, but he also genuinely loved his people and would do anything for Japan’s freedom.
Tamaki thrived on those social interactions. He knew more about the people making up the Black Knights than just about anybody. Those nights of drinking did help build strong connections, and Tamaki was proud of how he stayed up-to-date on Inoue and Sugiyama’s on-and-off-again relationship (she didn’t like how he looked at other women), how he supported Ohgi when the man lost his virginity (after playfully ribbing his friend for taking so long, Tamaki did sincerely and painstakingly teach Ohgi about safe sex practices), how he sampled his neighbor’s new recipes because it gave her joy to share her food, how he helped the kid from the multigenerational family down the street score a job, how he helped some of the lost souls in the ghettoes find hobbies and purpose even beyond the Black Knights, how he basically cared about people’s lives with everything he did. Tamaki knew about the inner-workings of just about every Black Knight in the vicinity—except one.
As the months dragged on, Tamaki hit a wall every time he tried to learn more about their mysterious leader. The other core Black Knights talked behind Zero’s back, speculating, but they’d all stopped questioning him ages ago.
It was killing Tamaki inside.
At the end of another meeting where other Black Knights’ personal lives were woven into the discussion (Kallen’s school life with Kururugi Suzaku, Diethard’s work drama with his manager at the TV station, Rakshata’s old rivalry with some Britannian engineer who’d earned the ridiculous nickname ‘Earl of Pudding,’ Chiba’s obvious crush on Tohdoh, and Minami’s fascination with Princess Euphemia, among other things), Tamaki had had enough of the imbalance. He gritted his teeth and stood. He could tell that most of the other Black Knights expected some kind of melodramatic outburst—and, okay, maybe they’d be justified in anticipating one from him. But the current situation was horribly annoying, and it was time someone said something again. If it had to be him, then so be it. Tamaki would take one for the team.
Zero cocked his masked head at Tamaki. “Yes?” There was barely-concealed dread in his tone.
Tamaki was good at brushing that off. He straightened and found the words in his heart. “Zero, I didn’t trust you at first. I thought you were a right nutjob.” The other Black Knights gasped, but Tamaki plowed ahead with brazen audacity. “I still think you’re a nutjob, but you’ve proven you’re at least a good one. See what I’m saying?”
Zero nodded slowly. “I’m following.”
“You’re our leader,” Tamaki stressed, “but we still know next to nothing about you other than that you’re a crazy motherfucker who gets shit done. Hell, I know more about this Pretty Boy’s late-in-life sexuality crisis,” Tamaki said, waving robustly at a wincing Diethard, “than I do about you. And I’d rather know about you, man.”
Ohgi nodded thoughtfully. “He does have a point, Zero.”
Tamaki about fell over. He had Ohgi’s outward support! When had that happened in recent memory?
“The Black Knights are growing,” Tohdoh added, “and the organization has just been restructured. Isn’t it time you considered sharing a little more about yourself, Zero? You’re in it with us for the long-haul.”
Tamaki blinked repeatedly. He had the legendary Tohdoh’s support too. He was totally rocking this!
Zero’s aura turned immediately icy. “As I’ve said before, my personal life is irrelevant to the Black Knights. I am done discussing this topic.” With that final word, he moved determinedly towards the exit.
Tamaki buckled down, overcome with passion. “Come on, Zero! We follow you into battle. Some of us die for you. I get that your identity is some fancy secret, but we don’t know almost anything about you. It’s a shame because you’re one of us.”
Zero stopped short. Without turning around, he recited, “Zero is a symbol—"
“Bullshit!” Tamaki yelled, slamming a fist on the table. The other Black Knights were looking at him with newfound respect. Yoshida was giving him a subtle thumbs up, giving Tamaki the strength to keep pushing the envelope. “Like, yeah, okay. In a sense, Zero is a symbol. I get it. But beneath that mask, you’re a damn person like the rest of us. We’re comrades, and we don’t even know your favorite freaking color.”
Zero remained still as he processed Tamaki’s argument. Then, without a word, he strode from the room with stiff shoulders, his cape swishing in his wake.
The Black Knights heaved a collective sigh.
“It was a valiant effort,” Diethard said, giving Tamaki a deep nod. He didn't seem bothered that Tamaki had used his personal life as a point.
Kallen’s eyes were bright as she gave Tamaki a rare hug. “I always knew you cared.”
“We all care,” Ohgi mused, looking worriedly at the empty doorway. “He must be so lonely, always careful to keep himself separate from the rest of us. Scared of letting himself be human.”
“Well,” Tamaki growled, “I’d respect him more if he let himself be human around us!”
“I agree." Chiba sent Tohdoh a quick look of telling admiration. “It’s motivating to know your leader as a person.”
Tohdoh appeared deep in thought. “I understand where he’s coming from, to a degree. It is beneficial to keep certain details to yourself, especially in that kind of position. But he’s taking it to extreme levels.”
Asahina sighed, swapping a concerned look with Chiba. “About the only personal things we know are that he’s not Japanese and he’s incredibly smart. That’s not much.”
“It’s really not,” Tamaki said with a disappointed groan. Why didn’t Zero understand that he didn’t need to confine himself to the restrictions of a symbol with them? They all wanted to know the real him. “I’m not even asking Zero to tell us identifying information, you know, but he can still throw us a freaking bone after what we’ve been through together!”
The clack of footsteps sounded outside, and Zero reappeared in the doorway.
Falling silent, the Black Knights stared at him in heavy expectation.
Zero glanced to the side and cleared his throat. “…Violet.”
Tamaki’s heart pounded at the simple word. Even though it was such a small thing, he felt he knew Zero on a deeper level than ever before. He didn’t know what had made their masked leader change his mind, but Tamaki wasn’t about to question this new miracle.
“He answered,” Ohgi breathed in awe, his words almost lost beneath other Black Knights’ gasps.
Zero stepped fully inside the room, his body language tense in a way it had never been in actual life-or-death situations. When the murmurs died down, he added slowly, “Though I admit I’ve recently become partial to green as well.”
Tamaki grinned, his blood singing at such monumental progress. “Because of your woman’s hair?”
“Because of my boyfriend’s eyes!” Zero snapped, before shifting in never-before-seen awkwardness, like he hadn’t meant to let that slip.
Tamaki gaped, his mind spinning.
“Oh shit,” Sugiyama said, his face frozen in shock. Inoue tried and failed to hide a smile. Yoshida and Minami shared a triumphant glance as Diethard began digging in his wallet.
Kallen seemed torn at the bombshell, but she sent Zero a watery smile of support.
Ohgi stared at Zero like he was realizing anew just how much of a stranger their masked leader had been this whole time.
Tohdoh received Zero’s news with calm composure befitting of an experienced leader. “Violet and green, hm? Sound choices.”
Zero seemed to relax at the Black Knights’ easy acceptance. Then, taking his place once more at the head of the table, he said, “I still won’t share any identifying information about my true self. That’s my right.”
“Sure,” Tamaki agreed, bubbling with happiness as he moved past stunned surprise. “We absolutely respect that.”
Even with the mask, Zero shot Tamaki a doubtful look.
“Really!” Tamaki insisted, resisting the urge to pull Zero into a bone-crushing hug. Today was a huge step, but Zero wasn’t necessarily one of the guys yet.
Ohgi held out a welcoming hand, as if recognizing the importance of Zero’s reintroduction to the Black Knights as something beyond a mere symbol. “It’s enough that you’re cluing us in about the little things that make you, well, you.”
Zero shook Ohgi’s hand, still guarded but seemingly hopeful all the same.
Tamaki was good at reading people. Even masked people cloaked in secrets.
Turning to Diethard, Zero tilted his head. “So if you ever wanted to talk about your newfound sexuality crisis…”
Diethard’s jaw dropped at the personal offer. His wasn't the only one.
Zero discussing anything beyond their crusade against Britannia was unheard of.
Tohdoh looked on with a small, pleased smile as Zero connected to the Black Knights on a more human level.
Brimming with pride, Tamaki gave himself a mental pat on the back. He’d drawn Zero in. It was like he’d performed his own version of a Narita miracle. Grinning like a madman, Tamaki silently vowed to throw the Black Knights one of his raving dinner parties. After all, they had a resounding new reason to celebrate.