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i.
Rolo wasn’t sure what to expect out of his first interaction with Lelouch, but thankfully for him, Lelouch is more than happy to take the lead, looking abnormally smug as he accompanies Rolo to ‘his room’ for the first time ‘since he left.’
“I just happened to see one of your favorite snacks when I was out shopping, so I left it on your desk,” Lelouch tells him as they turn the corner.
So this is something siblings do for each other, picking out gifts. Rolo can’t remember ever getting a present from someone that didn’t have ulterior motives behind it. But, well, this gift isn’t really for him—it’s for Nunnally, and it’s one of her favorite snacks.
“Yay,” Rolo says, trying his best to sound interested. “Thank you, big brother!” he says, overly cheerful, and winces at his own voice. He’s still not used to saying that, ‘big brother.’
“Can you guess what it is?” Lelouch asks. “I’ll give you a hint—you can’t normally find it in our usual supermarket.”
Lelouch sounds full of expectation, like Rolo should be able to guess the answer to this, but Rolo has nothing. He’s memorized a laundry list of Nunnally’s reported ‘favorite things,’ but the list was so long, even restricted to the category of ‘food,’ that he doesn’t know where to start.
“I don’t know,” he says. “What is it, big brother?” The term of address still feels foreign in his mouth, but through repetition, he’s trying to ingrain the role into himself.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Lelouch says, sounding excited, and opens the door to Rolo’s bedroom. Rolo walks in slowly, a little nervous with Lelouch looking at him so expectantly.
He sets his luggage down to the side and then looks towards the desk, where Lelouch said he left his present. It looks like three colorful balls—pink, white, and green—on a stick, resting on a plate. He steps closer, but his mind is blanking on what it is. It’s probably something Eleven, since he’s never seen it before, but while he did rote memorization of all the names of Nunnally’s favorite things, he never bothered learning what everything was.
That isn’t important, though—he just doesn’t have to let Lelouch know he can’t recognize it. But as he looks back at Lelouch, who’s still watching him in expectation, now seeming slightly nervous, he realizes he’s probably been silent for an unnaturally long time by now.
“Thank you, big brother,” he says, trying once again not to cringe at his own voice. His tone sounded a little shaky, but hopefully Lelouch will take that as him being overwhelmed with happiness, or something. Aside from that, though, he’s realizing that for a while, he’s been calling Lelouch ‘big brother’ every time he’s opened his mouth. He hopes that's not starting to sound unnatural.
“I bet you couldn’t get it back in Britannia,” Lelouch says proudly, and makes a gesture. “Go on, you can eat it,” he says, and then adds, hastily, “or you can save it for later if you’re full. Whatever suits you the best, Rolo.”
Rolo slowly picks up the stick. He is kind of full, and after living off of rations his whole life, it doesn’t particularly excite him to try new things, since it’s easy for them to upset his stomach, but if he were Nunnally—if he were Lelouch’s real little sibling, he would probably gladly eat one of his favorite foods that his big brother went out of his way to buy for him as a welcome back gift, even on a full stomach.
Unsure of how exactly to eat it, he goes and bites off the top pink ball.
…It’s soft, somewhat sweet. He’s still not used to sweet tastes, and he can’t recognize what variation of sweet this is supposed to be, so it’s a little strange to him. But as he bites into it and starts to chew, he realizes, it’s so chewy, almost like tough meat, so much that it feels like it’s barely decreasing in volume.
Because he’s stuck chewing, he can’t even fake a happy expression or thank Lelouch out loud, so in order to hide his surprised, somewhat uncomfortable expression, he sets the stick back down and hugs Lelouch, hiding his face in his shoulder.
He feels Lelouch stiffen a little in surprise before wrapping his arms back around him. “Welcome home, Rolo,” Lelouch says, and hugs him tight as he buries his head in Rolo’s hair, breathing in deeply, and Rolo’s breath catches, uncomfortable for a new reason.
He’s never been held this warmly before, or had his name called this lovingly. Something that is probably normal for regular families, something that he thought he would never have the chance to experience.
But none of this is actually his. Even if Lelouch has memories of Rolo and perceives Rolo as his brother now, that love is built on his experiences with Nunnally, what he’s learned about Nunnally, and her favorite things.
“...I’m home, big brother,” Rolo says.
The sweet taste of Lelouch’s gift lingers uncomfortably on his tongue.
ii.
After a month of eating Lelouch’s home cooking, Rolo’s stomach and taste buds have started to adjust to eating more sophisticated food, and he’s started to enjoy their meals together, beyond just acting. He’s found out that he now enjoys all of Nunnally’s favorite foods, too—even the ‘dango’ as it’s apparently called has started to taste better now that he knows what to expect.
Lelouch usually looks pleased to just watch Rolo happily eat. At the start of each meal, he spends a lot of time staring, smiling at Rolo, without touching a hand to his own food. Rolo feels a little uneasy, or embarrassed, maybe, being watched so intently, but it’s probably a relic of when he used to cut up Nunnally’s food for her—except Rolo doesn’t need that, so that time is spent simply staring at him, instead.
But now that Rolo looks at him, Lelouch’s smile seems a little different from usual. Smug, like he wants to say something.
“What is it, big brother?” Rolo asks, setting his utensils down.
Lelouch smiles wider and says, “Rolo, since when did you become able to eat asparagus so easily?”
Rolo looks at him, eyes wide, and puts another asparagus in his mouth, giving himself time to think. Oh, so Nunnally must not have liked it. Maybe that was in the records, but for the first month he’s been here, Lelouch has been so consistent in cooking ‘his’ favorite things that he let his guard down, starting to forget the things he memorized.
He swallows and says, “Mom and Dad made me eat it, and I realized it wasn’t that bad. The ones that you made taste better, though, big brother.”
Lelouch smiles gently. “So you like it now?”
Rolo nods insistently. “Yeah,” he says, feeling a little giddy that Lelouch seems proud of him. Without thinking over it carefully, he continues, “Actually, I think it might be one of my favorite vegetables now.”
Lelouch looks pleased. “Then I should start making it more often.”
Rolo smiles bashfully. “Thank you, big brother.”
He probably shouldn’t have done this—there’s no reason for him to unnecessarily deviate from Lelouch’s memories of him, in fear of accidentally stimulating him into remembering the truth. But strangely, it gives him a perverse sense of satisfaction that he’s revising Lelouch's image of Nunnally, even a little.
Even if his love and affection are meant for Nunnally, eventually, he’ll get more accustomed to Rolo, and his memories of Rolo will be at the forefront of his mind. For as long as this mission continues.
Rolo watches Lelouch finally start to eat, eyes drawn to his throat’s movement as he chews and swallows.
And then, after Lelouch fulfills his purpose as bait or regains his memories, he’ll be killed by Rolo, all while holding these pretty rose-tinted memories of him. His delicate throat won’t ever move again, his frail arms will never wrap Rolo in his embrace, and his lips will never again call out his name.
Rolo takes another bite, but it’s starting to taste dull and flavorless.
iii.
“Now, let’s eat. I’ve made a bunch of your favorite things,” Lelouch tells him kindly, voice soft. He always sounds happiest just to find satisfaction in Rolo’s joy and well-being.
Rolo looks at all the food Lelouch has laid out for ‘his’ birthday and swallows. It’s a lineup all of things that he likes, but that’s all because they’re Nunnally’s favorite foods. The elaborate arrangement of flowers on the table, too, is there because Nunnally liked flowers.
He’s never had his birthday celebrated before. But this, too, isn’t really his birthday being celebrated—it’s still Nunnally’s birthday, and Lelouch is doing everything that would’ve made her happy, and Rolo is only here instead by chance, but…
Rolo is the one who’s here now.
Rolo is the one who can receive and accept his affection now, the one who will continue to make new memories with him from here on out, the one who will accompany Lelouch for the rest of his life until—no, he doesn’t have to think about that right now.
He runs his thumb over the engraving on the heart locket Lelouch gifted him. As Lelouch said, it’s rather girly, obviously stemming from his idea of Nunnally, but Rolo has already gotten used to accepting misguided affection like this. Nunnally will never get to have this, after all, but he can, in her place.
When he looks up, he realizes Lelouch is smiling at him, still not having touched his own food, either. “You really like that, huh?” he says, voice kind, and Rolo nods, finally tucking it away safely in his pocket, where his phone is.
It’s too small to be a necklace and too loose to be a bracelet safely, but that’s right, maybe he can attach it to his phone.
“This way it’s like I can carry a part of you wherever I go,” he says.
“I’m glad you like it,” Lelouch says, “but even without that, I’m always with you. Here.”
Lelouch taps his heart, and Rolo blushes. Even though he acts so aloof with everyone else, his affection for his sibling is so overt it goes way past the point of cheesiness. There’s no wonder he always gets called a siscon—or brocon, now.
“I know…” Rolo says, and pats his pocket. When he wears his school uniform, the phone with his locket will be in his chest pocket, and even though it’s silly, it feels almost poetic to be able to keep it so close to his heart. “Now, let’s eat?”
He scans the array of food, eyes going past Nunnally’s favorite pasta, bread, sides, salad, until he spots asparagus, roasted and served in a small bowl. Something that only Rolo liked. He finds himself reaching to serve it onto his plate first, and he hears Lelouch chuckle.
“I had a feeling you might go for that first,” Lelouch says. “You’ve really been liking it lately.”
Rolo sets the serving tongs back down, a little bashful. So he noticed. Well, it shouldn’t have been hard to, given that Rolo has been making a point of showing his delight every single time Lelouch made something outside his usual repertoire of Nunnally’s favorites. Maybe he should be more wary of acting unnaturally, but he doesn’t care enough.
“Because it tastes good,” Rolo says.
“Are you sure the asparagus back at home weren’t better?” Lelouch asks. “You certainly changed your mind after eating them.”
So he remembers that, too. That makes him kind of happy. Rolo shakes his head, smiling. “They were good, too, but I like it more now because you keep cooking it for me. I like your cooking the most in the world, big brother.”
“I’m glad.” Lelouch smiles gently at him. “Happy birthday, Rolo.”
iv. (post-remembering)
Even though they haven’t seen each other in person for so long while Lelouch was in the Chinese Federation, now that he’s finally come home, Rolo can’t even enjoy their first evening back together because Lelouch sent him on a mission for the Black Knights.
Well, he’s happy to be useful, and it’s a good distraction from the fact that Sayoko managed to saddle Lelouch with 108 dates, but he at least wanted to get home a little earlier so he could see Lelouch before he went to bed. He should be back home by now, but at this point, he’s probably already gone to sleep. It can’t be helped, because Lelouch needs his rest after the hellish schedule Sayoko is putting him through.
Or that’s what Rolo thinks, at least, until he opens the front door and finds Lelouch sitting in a chair by the entrance, book in hand, eyes closed.
…Huh? Was he waiting for him? Considering that Lelouch was the one who sent him on the mission, he should have had a rough idea of how long it would have taken. Especially in such a busy period, it’s odd for him to waste his time like this.
As Rolo is beginning to worry about whether he should wake him up and move him to his actual bed, or just let him rest here, his problem is solved, as Lelouch wakes up right after Rolo closes the door.
“Oh, Rolo,” he says. “You’re back. Welcome home.” Rubbing his eyes from grogginess as he smiles, his big brother looks adorable, but Rolo doesn’t voice that thought out loud.
“I’m home, big brother,” Rolo says. “What were you doing here?”
“Waiting for you, of course,” Lelouch says, and stands up. “I made us dinner. I’m sorry, Rolo. I sent you on that mission so I could surprise you when you got back, but I didn’t know it would take so long. It’s probably cold by now, but it should be fine after I heat it back up.”
Rolo blinks at him. So he’s saying the mission was just an excuse to send him away so that he could do something nice for him?
“You didn’t have to,” he says. “You’ve been so busy lately, you don’t need to add anything else to your schedule. I’m sure Sayoko could have—”
Lelouch sighs and pats him on the head, and Rolo stiffens up at his touch. “That’s true, but I just wanted to make dinner for my little brother again, like the old times. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Even before I left for the Chinese Federation, it was mostly you preparing meals, because I was so busy. But I finally found the time now.”
Unable to restrain himself, Rolo clutches onto Lelouch’s shirt and buries his head in his shoulder. He’s not sure if the Lelouch of now would appreciate him clinging to him this much, but he knows the old Lelouch would have let him—welcomed him, even—so he leans into him, soaking in his warmth.
It’s been so long since they’ve touched this much, but he didn’t realize how much he missed it until now. His throat closes up a little, like he wants to cry but can’t, equal parts relief and longing.
“I’ve missed you,” Rolo says, and feels Lelouch wrap his arms awkwardly around him, stiffly rubbing his back. If it were the past Lelouch he would have hugged him more firmly, more lovingly, but after all that Rolo’s done, after he’s betrayed Lelouch’s trust like that, it can’t be helped. He just has to accept the scraps of lingering affection that he can get.
“If you told me, I could’ve just helped you cook,” Rolo says. “I wanted to spend more time with you.”
“Rolo,” Lelouch says, reprimanding yet almost fond. “It’s bad manners to complain. I worked hard to make a lot of your favorite foods, you know?” Lelouch’s arms go still around Rolo, and he pauses. “Although… those aren’t really your favorite foods, but Nunnally’s, aren’t they?”
Rolo stiffens, blood running cold. Lelouch’s voice still sounds kind, but somehow the intent behind his words seems cold. No matter how emotionally unintelligent Lelouch is, he should understand what he’s asking, shouldn’t he? This must not have been the first time he thought that, it must have occurred to him while he was cooking, but he didn’t think to change anything. But, well, it is the truth.
“When you were eating all the meals I prepared for you with such a happy look on your face—was that just an act?”
His tone is still light, but his words are accusing. Overcome with the sudden need to defend himself, to apologize, Rolo protests, “That’s not it!”
Surprised at the volume of his own voice, he lets go of Lelouch’s shirt, taking in a sharp breath and looking away, shakily. Once he catches his breath, he looks up at him, desperate, and even though Lelouch doesn’t look particularly mad his eyes are sharp and Rolo is somehow struck dizzy with the feeling that he needs to beg him for forgiveness, disoriented.
“I really think the food you make tastes good,” Rolo insists. “I’ve only ever really eaten rations as I grew up, so I wasn’t used to it at first, but the more you cooked for me, the more I started enjoying it, and looking forward to the next time. Not just the taste of it, but eating meals together with you, too. And even if you were just cooking the things Nunnally liked, I started to like all of them, too.” He breathes in sharply. “Your cooking really is my favorite in the whole world, big brother.”
Lelouch seems somewhat mollified by that, nodding slightly. “Well, I’m glad today’s dinner won’t go to waste,” he says, a little awkwardly. After a beat of silence, he asks, “What are your favorite foods, then?”
Rolo pauses. After a year of living normally, eating normal food, he’s formulated enough of an answer to that question, mostly things that Nunnally’s liked, a couple of things otherwise, but—
“Are there any foods that you like but Nunnally doesn’t?” he asks.
“Well,” Lelouch thinks about it. “A few.”
“Then, try making those,” Rolo says. “And maybe one of them will become my favorite food.”
Lelouch laughs softly. “I’ve really spoiled you, haven’t I? Then I guess I’ll make that next time.” He raises a hand to gently pet down Rolo’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “And I suppose you would want to help me, wouldn’t you?”
Rolo nods eagerly. “Thank you, big brother.”
Even if Lelouch says he’s spoiled, he’s still willing to spoil him more and grant those wishes. So even if he doesn’t quite love him like before, Rolo wants to believe that he still has some place in his heart, after Nunnally.
v.
“Rolo, do you want to taste test it?” Once the shrimp bisque—a thick, creamy type of soup that Lelouch says is from France—is done simmering, Lelouch ladles out a little and holds it out to Rolo.
As promised, the next time Lelouch was free, they took the opportunity to cook a meal that Lelouch liked but Nunnally didn’t care for.
He’s probably expecting Rolo to take the ladle out of his hand, but instead, Rolo leans in, blows gently to cool it down, and licks the top of the ladle while Lelouch is still holding it.
“Mm,” he says, as he savors it on his tongue and thinks. Although the heat makes it harder to taste than normal, and Rolo was never good at distinguishing these things, he’s gotten a little better than before. “I think a little more salt would be good.”
“Got it,” Lelouch says, and adds a few more pinches of salt. After stirring, he tastes it himself and nods in satisfaction. “I think this is good. We can serve and garnish it now.”
Rolo watches Lelouch ladle out the soup into two bowls and then delicately drizzle heavy cream onto one of the bowls in a few artful zig-zags. “Rolo, do you want to do the other one?” he asks, offering the cream out for Rolo to take.
“Okay.” Rolo takes it, thinks for a second, and then draws out a little heart with the cream. His lines are a little wobbly, but at least it's distinguishable as a heart, and he looks satisfied at it afterwards. He likes this shape.
He never would have imagined finding joy in such a trivial thing. Before, as long as he could escape from the dull ache of hunger, all food was equal to him, no matter the flavor or texture or appearance. But with Lelouch, he learned to appreciate all these things, and how Lelouch put effort into them in every meal he made.
Lelouch sprinkles some green onion over both of their servings, and then carries the bowls out to the dining table. Rolo follows him, bringing over the garlic bread that they’ve been keeping warm in the oven and the salad they prepared earlier.
After they finish preparing the dining table, Rolo leans over to look at the bowls of bisque. “Big brother, can I have the one you decorated?” he asks.
“Go ahead,” Lelouch says, sounding a little bemused, and Rolo swaps the bowls on the table, giving Lelouch the bowl with his heart.
After they sit down, Lelouch waits patiently for him to take the first bite—a habit he still hasn’t broken out of, even if he knows now why it’s unnecessary.
Rolo looks at his soup, admiring how neat and professional-looking the lines Lelouch drizzled onto it are, and then cuts through it, taking a small spoonful. After blowing on it carefully, he puts the spoon to his mouth.
It tastes good, flavorful and warm. Now that it’s more salted and not as hot, it’s easier to appreciate the rich flavor of the shrimp, too. He never tried shrimp until living with Lelouch, since the Order only provided them with the bare minimum of sustenance and they lived farther from the sea, so it was a little weird the first time, but just knowing that his big brother likes it makes it special to him.
He wonders what about this isn’t to Nunnally’s liking.
“How is it?” Lelouch asks, still not having touched his own serving.
“It’s good,” Rolo says, smiling, hoping his sincerity comes across.
“I’m glad,” Lelouch says, and takes a spoonful for himself. Rolo watches him close his eyes in satisfaction as he savors it. He likes seeing his big brother’s content face like this.
“I think it turned out well,” Lelouch concludes, and reaches for a piece of bread. “You should try some of the garlic bread, too, before it gets cold,” he advises, and dips his bread into the bisque and takes a bite. Somehow, even eating finger food, he looks elegant.
Rolo takes a piece of bread and copies Lelouch. This tastes good, too, the contrast of the crisp crust and the fluffy inside, garlic and butter melting together with the taste of the shrimp bisque.
“What do you think?” Lelouch asks him again after he finishes swallowing. “Do you think it’s worth becoming one of your favorite foods?”
Rolo sets the rest of the bread down on his plate. “Yeah, I think so,” he says with a smile. “I like everything you cook, big brother.”
“Everything, huh,” Lelouch says, and thoughtfully takes another sip of his soup. Setting his spoon down with a clink, he slowly looks Rolo in the eyes. “But if you like everything, can you really call anything your ‘favorite’? None of it is really special.”
His expression is calm and his voice is light and unassuming, but somehow, Rolo almost feels like he’s being interrogated.
“It is special,” Rolo insists, and looks down at his plate to avoid Lelouch’s gaze. “W-when I was in the Order, I didn’t really care about food as long as it kept me from going hungry. I didn’t care about the taste, or nutritional value, or anything, and I never really enjoyed eating, un-unless I was starving.”
He hasn’t had to feel like that in a long time. Rolo closes his eyes and breathes in to steady himself. Even though it was his whole life, just thinking of returning to that lifestyle now makes his chest hurt.
It feels weird to talk about his past life with Lelouch, too—of course, during the year Lelouch’s memories were altered, he couldn’t mention it, but even afterwards, he rarely brought it up. Lelouch never seemed to be interested, anyway.
“But you care about all that, big brother. You make food that tastes good, and you think about the balance of nutrients, and you try to present it nicely. Like, this time, you were really careful to get the seasoning and the texture right, and you made sure we’d have salad on the side, and you even decorated it like this. I’m still not much of a cook, but I notice these things.”
Starting to feel conscious from talking so long without any response, Rolo looks shyly up from his soup at Lelouch. “So, that’s why each meal you make is special in its own way, and, and one of my favorites.”
Lelouch is stunned silent for a moment, before gradually smiling—a restrained smile, but still different than any of his other smiles Rolo has seen. Part surprise, part satisfaction, maybe?
“Rolo,” Lelouch says. “I didn’t know you noticed that much.”
“Well, you’re my favorite person in the world, big brother,” Rolo says, smiling. “Of course I would notice.”
“I see,” Lelouch says. “You’re really perceptive, aren’t you, Rolo?”
Lelouch won’t return his words. Rolo wasn’t expecting him to, because he can’t, because his favorite person in the world is Nunnally and not Rolo. But maybe Rolo should just be glad that Lelouch is keeping his promise and not trying to lie to him.
“I guess,” Rolo shrugs listlessly. He had to pay attention to detail to survive in the Order, after all.
“Once we find Nunnally,” Lelouch says quietly, and Rolo flinches. “The three of us can have meals together, like this, as a family. Won’t that be nice, Rolo?”
It’s like Lelouch read his thoughts, Rolo could have thought, if he wanted to interpret this favorably—but no, they probably just both thought of her at the word ‘favorite.’ Even though he’s looking at him with such kind-seeming eyes, his big brother can be so cruel, sometimes.
“Yeah,” Rolo says quietly, hands clenching underneath the table.
He can’t stomach the thought of sharing him with someone else, especially not someone like Nunnally, who has grown up spoiled on Lelouch’s affection and was probably too used to it to realize how good she got it.
He wonders what it is about her that makes Lelouch fixate on her so much—their blood ties, the amount of time they’ve spent together, their shared past? There are so many possible reasons, all that Rolo loses to her in. Or is there just something innately special about her?
“What kind of person is she, Nunnally?” Rolo asks, not sure if he actually wants to hear Lelouch’s answer.
Lelouch’s eyes crinkle and his smile turns gentler, much more kind and genuine than it was a moment ago, just from thinking of her. Rolo’s blood goes a little cold.
“She’s like an angel, kind, and gentle, and generous to everyone, but she also has the strength to stay kind to others in the face of her own hardships. I’m sure, when you meet, she would welcome you as another brother.”
When they meet. It’s hard to imagine himself interacting with her. Rolo has always thought of her as this abstract concept—the role he had to live up to, the object of Lelouch’s affection. She’s the reason Rolo could be by Lelouch’s side in the first place, but now she’s what’s getting in their way the most. He’s used to simply disposing of obstacles, but. Could he? Could he kill her?
Or could Rolo become Nunnally’s brother?
Nunnally is someone who likes kind and gentle things, like flowers and kittens. She’s someone who, despite the societal trend of discrimination, appreciates Eleven foods and culture. She’s someone who, like him, loves the food his big brother makes, and, most of all, loves his big brother.
If it were Rolo, in her shoes, he wouldn’t let an outsider like himself get in between them. He would keep his big brother all to himself.
But maybe Nunnally is different. Maybe she’s more generous and kind than he is. And maybe that’s part of why she has more of Lelouch’s love.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If, even after Rolo serves his purpose of helping to retrieve Nunnally, Lelouch still continues to place him by his side, then maybe he should be satisfied with that.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” he lies.
+1.
He really bought too much, Rolo thinks, looking down at his bag. But as he saw things on the way home, he couldn’t help but buy them, and it’s not like they’re in the situation where they need to skimp on spending money, anyways.
Nunnally, who is folding origami at the table, perks up when she hears his footsteps. “Rolo, welcome home,” she says, cheerfully. “How has your day been?”
He still can’t get used to this—that Nunnally can recognize him by his footsteps, or that she would say his name so fondly. But he’s starting to learn by now, that’s just the kind of person she is.
“It was good,” he says. “I saw some stalls with Japanese food on the way home, so I brought some home with me.” He sets the bag down in front of her. “You can go through it, they’re all packaged.”
Nunnally carefully feels for the bag, an expression of surprise settling on her face when she touches the first item, a dango skewer wrapped in plastic. “Oh, it’s dango,” she says, happily, and reaches for the next item, a plastic box. “And this is…?”
Rolo tells Nunnally what all the food she can’t identify herself is, and Nunnally clasps her hands together in joy when he’s done. “These are all my favorite things. Thank you, Rolo!”
“Mm,” Rolo says. Nunnally’s open kindness, while not unpleasant, still makes him feel out of place. “You’re welcome. I know a lot of your favorite things, since…”
He pauses before he can finish the sentence. He doesn’t want to dredge up bad memories—the year that Rolo was with Lelouch was a year that Nunnally was separated from him, after all—but Nunnally nods in understanding.
“From when you were standing in for me, correct? Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad that you know so much about me, Rolo.”
Her choice of words is so kind and unblaming—‘standing in for me’ instead of ‘replacing’ her or ‘stealing’ her place.
Rolo looks away from her, even though it’s not like she can see him, anyway. All the jealousy he had feels small and pitiful in the face of her. He can accept how Lelouch would love someone like her so ardently, and how Rolo would pale in comparison.
But more than that, it feels weird to be treated so kindly and warmly by someone he used to want dead. To be treated as family by her, and to be accepted much more quickly than by Lelouch.
“I-I’m glad,” he says quickly. “Where’s big brother?”
Nunnally smiles in his direction. “He’s cooking dinner now. He was wondering when you’d get back.”
“I see,” Rolo says with a slight smile.
Nunnally, while always desiring other people’s happiness, isn’t in the habit of lying meaninglessly, so this means Lelouch really did ask after him. After everything he’s done, he’s happy that Lelouch will even consider him.
“I think he should be done soon enough,” Nunnally says. “Why don’t we head over to the dining room?”
Rolo agrees and pushes her to the dining table. As she predicted, Lelouch is already setting the table for dinner. He smiles gently when he sees them enter the room—a smile that Nunnally is unable to see, Rolo thinks, both in pity and satisfaction.
“Good timing, you two. Dinner is just about ready.” Lelouch turns to Rolo. “How was your shopping trip, Rolo?”
Not having expected Lelouch to address him first, Rolo stutters. “G-good,” he says reflexively, and then adds, “I saw some Japanese food stands on the way home.”
Nunnally chimes in. “Rolo bought a lot of my favorite foods. Isn’t that nice of him, big brother?”
Lelouch smiles at him—a real smile, not the cold, fake one that Rolo had so desperately ignored trying to delude himself into believing Lelouch still loved him—and leans over the table to gently pet Rolo’s hair.
Rolo closes his eyes and leans into his touch, feeling his heart flutter unnaturally. He thought that he had gotten used to Lelouch’s touch during the year they spent together, but he barely touched him during his time as Zero, and now that he does again, he’s still not reaccustomed to it.
“Thank you, Rolo. It makes me happy to see the two of you getting along.”
It really does.
The whole time Lelouch was Zero, Rolo was so starved for his affection, worrying over whether he could trust him, whether his love was real, what he could do to stay together and make Lelouch his, but now that Nunnally’s back and they’ve made their peace, just like that, Lelouch treats him almost, almost the same as he used to do.
Rolo basks in his warmth until Lelouch removes his hand and sits down. “Now, lets have dinner,” he says.
Nunnally settles at the end of the table, and Rolo and Lelouch sit on either side of her, facing across from each other. Rolo looks down at the table and sees that not only did Lelouch make a lot of Nunnally’s favorite dishes, he also made a few of the things Rolo has said he's liked, that Nunnally was impartial to.
He feels oddly touched, heart squeezing tight in his chest to the point it’s almost dizzying. He had never imagined that he would be able to experience family like this. He knew his mission was only temporary, and even when Lelouch had promised him a future together, he was so focused on clinging to him and trying to keep him to himself, constantly afraid of him falling out of his grasp, that he couldn’t even imagine what that future would actually look like.
“Is something wrong, Rolo? You look a little off,” Lelouch says, gently, in the same warm tone of voice he uses with Nunnally.
Rolo shakes his head. “No, it’s nothing.”
It’s funny how after he let go of his fixation, after he gave up on what he thought he wanted most, he got it. He used to want to isolate Lelouch, to have him to himself—because he knew that if Lelouch still had anyone else, Rolo could never become most important to him—but after he resolved to give up his life and let Lelouch live without him, and after he accepted sharing him with Nunnally, now, finally, he has Lelouch’s affection like he always wanted.
Nunnally turns her head toward him, worried. “Rolo? Are you sure you’re okay?”
And he never would have imagined that someone else would be there in that family, and that he would actually welcome their company. Back at the Geass Order, there were other children who thought of him as a ‘big brother,’ but he was so caught up in the drudge of his day-to-day life of missions that he never developed a real attachment to them. But Nunnally… now that he’s gotten to know her, he can understand easily why Lelouch is so devoted to her.
It makes him ashamed that he used to want to kill her, but he’ll keep that locked up deep inside of him. What matters is that she’s still here, despite that.
Rolo smiles at Lelouch, and takes Nunnally’s hand in his so that even though she can’t see his smile, she can feel it, too. “I’m sure. I’m just happy to be here with my two favorite people.”