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Her brother left so many things behind for Nunnally to sort through. To take care of in his stead, or to just keep hidden, or come to grips with. Zero, Nunnally decides after a while, is all three of those at once.
She knows who he is. Or is it ‘used to be’? At any rate, she knows what answer she’d get if she asked. And she doesn’t feel very inclined to hear it.
The matters of state Lelouch left her with: the throne of Britannia, since Cornelia and Schneizel both declined it, and Nunnally knows what her duty is. Repairing Britannia’s relations to nearly every country in the world – and since all the three superpowers of the world fell, there are dozens of countries now. Hundreds. Now that Nunnally rules Britannia, uncontested with no aristocracy left to protest her decisions, she’s getting Britannia started on atoning for everything they’ve done to the rest of the world, and the former Areas most of all. She’s empress, she’s an ambassador, diplomat, peacekeeper, UFN representative – and still she knows there’s always more work to do, but she also knows it’ll take time. She can be patient.
The immaterial things Lelouch left her with are best not spoken of. He left her memories not her own, plans and glimpses of the life she’d never seen him live.
He’d been hiding things for her for a long time.
And then, there were the material things. Pendragon is no more, but Nunnally still had to decide what to do with the Damocles and the Avalon. Lelouch had left no documents, no will, no personal artefacts of his own save for the ones forgotten in Ashford – but their family owned nearly a hundred villas and palaces just for personal use, all of which were inherited by Lelouch after Pendragon and everyone there were obliterated, and now they’ve all been transferred to Nunnally.
She’ll donate them, give them away – most of them are in other countries anyway, now, and more will soon be – but before she can do that, she must visit them all and take care of what needs to be taken care of. Maybe Cornelia or Schneizel will want to keep their childhood homes, which Nunnally would definitely understand – but then there are still the 87 villas, palaces and mansions that neither of them have any connection to left to deal with.
When Nunnally tells Zero of her intention to take care of all those residences, Zero says, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
They’re in the sitting room connecting to Nunnally’s bedroom, and no one is with them. Still, Zero – Suzaku – visibly hesitates. Nunnally says, “Why don’t you take a seat and then take it from the beginning?”
Suzaku takes a seat, and turns towards her, and explains that Lelouch had, for lack of a better word, acquired a little brother. An assassin meant to spy on him who’d defected to his side and been with him that year that Nunnally had been viceroy, who had been meant to take Nunnally’s place in his memories. He never did, Suzaku reassures while Nunnally mulls this over, and Lelouch hadn’t even realised how much the assassin meant to him before he’d tried to sacrifice his life to save Lelouch.
“Oh,” says Nunnally. Some person she never knew who’d cared so much for her brother, enough to die for him. Another brother she never knew, already dead. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to feel.
“But he survived,” says Suzaku then. His voice is calm and flat as Zero, the only signs of emotion the moments when he hesitates. “When his majesty returned to the Shinkirō where Rolo had been left-“ He also insists on using the proper terms of address- “He apparently found him still alive, but barely.” -and talks as if he weren’t literally present for all of those events. “CC doubted that Rolo would make it to a hospital, but his majesty insisted, and Rolo survived. The month before he took the throne his majesty spent watching over Rolo in a hospital in China.”
And after Lelouch took over Britannia Rolo had been moved first to the infirmary in the imperial palace, and, later on, to an imperial villa in South America. Far away from Pendragon, and nowhere near the war. And he’s still there, Suzaku says. Lelouch made sure he’d be safe and comfortable there, made sure that he wouldn’t leave. That he’d stay hidden.
(of course he did; Lelouch’s love was meticulous and overprotective)
“Is he…” Nunnally hesitates, a hundred questions on her tongue.
Suzaku is silent for a moment. “What I wanted to tell you,” he then says. “Was that you ought to visit him.”
Rolo can’t remember a single thing from the first month.
As far as he knows, he’d landed the Shinkirō as best as he could in the forest of some random island off the coast of Japan, hoping the trees would give them cover enough to hide from the Black Knights – he’d been beyond making plans with any real chance of success by that point, but the odds had been better than if they’d had no cover at all and Rolo knew he was dying. That was the best he could do. And if Lelouch lived, just a minute longer than he would’ve otherwise, then Rolo didn’t care if he himself died. He’d already made his choice. His first real choice as a human being.
That was what mattered. That was enough. He’d accepted his fate.
But then he’d woken up.
The first time that Rolo can remember waking up, everything had felt fuzzy and unreal. He’d felt strangely numb except for his head, which was aching, and he’d opened his eyes in a bed to a white room full of machinery. He’d noted that he had several IVs stuck in him and something else stuck down his throat. Not much else had registered.
Rolo hadn’t ever been injured before that. Rolo didn’t get injured. That was the point of his Geass – he’d freeze time for just a minute, get in, kill the guy, get back out. No chance of even getting seen. His Geass was dangerous to his health, sure, but he’d mastered it and knew down to the second how long he could use it at a time, so it was fine. He was fine. He’d never been in a hospital before, the closest thing being the labs of the Geass order. And he’d been too useful as an assassin to get stuck doing tests.
Being in a hospital wasn’t something he was familiar with, or knew what to do with.
After opening his eyes he just stayed there. Too tired to even contemplate moving, or making a plan.
Maybe something more had happened that time, which Rolo forgot – or maybe he’d just gone back to sleep. But that’s the first thing Rolo can remember from after the Shinkirō. Waking up alone in a room of what he’d later learn was the imperial palace – and what he’d later learn was not even his first time waking up, he just couldn’t remember any of the previous times. At the time he’d been too out of it to even remember to be concerned for Lelouch.
And that had been it.
He was, somehow, without any fanfare, still alive.
The villa sits perched on a hill, huge windows open in every direction – and a thick wall of stone surrounds the villa and garden, with two flesh-and-blood guards actually standing guard at the only gate. There’s a keycode which Zero exits the car to type in before they can proceed, and after that he leaves again to speak to the guards. Nunnally watches them from where she sits in the car, and though she can’t be sure- she thinks they’re both Geassed.
After Zero’s spoken to them, both of them seem to wake up from a dream. They hurry towards the building, one of them pulling out their phone, and Nunnally is silent when Zero again takes the driver’s seat.
Suzaku says nothing either.
They leave the car in a garage that connects to the building with a lift, and Zero silently follows Nunnally as she looks around the first floor of the villa. The rooms are huge, open, walls painted light blues and greens and windows letting in the sunshine. There’s a grand staircase in the hall connecting the two wings of the villa, the lift beside it obviously having been installed later on.
Did Lelouch plan for her to come here?
Then, a noise from the doorway to her left, and when Nunnally turns her head she spots something hiding behind the wall. She doesn’t realise what it is until it’s moving, a boy in a wheelchair emerging from the doorway and staring at her. He looks surprised, wary, almost a bit disappointed, Nunnally thinks. She can’t be sure. His face is an open book but Nunnally would have an easier time interpreting his expression with her hands than at this distance.
“Are you,” begins Nunnally. Her expression must be mirroring his. “Are you Rolo?” she settles on.
“Rolo Lamperouge,” says the boy. His eyes are violet, almost the same shade as their family’s eyes. It’s surreal to look at him. “Who are you?” he says, a touch defiant.
“Nunnally Lamperouge,” says Nunnally, echoing Rolo’s answer. “Though as of late I’ve been Nunnally vi Britannia, 100th Empress.”
Zero stands silent behind Nunnally, and now Rolo’s eyes go to him. “Where’s Lelouch?” Rolo demands. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Rolo,” says Zero. “The reason he couldn’t visit you anymore-“
“He’s dead,” says Nunnally, cutting off Zero’s careful, stiff diplomacy with a voice she’s carefully flattened and stripped of emotion. “Lelouch is dead.”
“No,” says Rolo instantly. “He can’t be.” He hesitates – and then his voice darkens with anger. “He can’t be dead. He’s not! So why isn’t he… here…”
Nunnally and Zero watch, ten metres of room separating them from Rolo, as tears well up and start running down the boy’s cheeks. “No,” he keeps saying, as if unaware of his own tears and of the truth some part of him has already accepted. He cries, and Nunnally watches and remembers – bone-achingly tired – her own desperate tears, everyone else either silent or cheering, Zero unreadable in his fucking mask, and suddenly Rolo isn’t a stranger anymore.
Rolo had loved Lelouch, too, and finally Nunnally wheels forward to reach out and take his hand.
He lets her. His other hand clenches into a fist on the armrest of his wheelchair – a hospital one, with backrest and armrests – and he shakes his head. Angrily. “He can’t be dead,” he seethes, clinging to Nunnally’s hand. “He can’t – I tried to – I didn’t-“
Zero, moving near soundlessly, walks over to join them and Rolo’s head snaps up. He glares at Zero. “How did Lelouch die?” he accuses. “He had the witch and his knight, didn’t he? And Gottwald. They were supposed to protect him. He said-“ Rolo hiccups, raises a hand to scrub clumsily at his face. “He can’t be dead,” he whispers.
Nunnally looks at Zero.
Zero, standing perfectly straight with his hands clasped behind his back, says emotionlessly, “He’s dead. I know because I was the one who killed him.”
The first time that Rolo can remember seeing Lelouch after landing the Shinkirō, he’d been sitting in a chair next to Rolo’s bed wearing his Ashford Academy uniform and flipping through a stack of papers. Or a book, maybe. Probably legal documents. When Rolo noticed him he’d made a sound and then Lelouch had put away the papers and taken his hand, telling Rolo what had happened in a calm, soothing summary.
The second time was after the doctors had cut down on the medical equipment helping him breathe from a tube down his throat to just something stuck to his nose, and Rolo could talk. Lelouch had repeated his summary, and Rolo actually remembers what he’d said that time – that they’d left Kamine island, that they were in Pendragon, that Rolo had been in a coma for a few days and then spent weeks recovering. His heart had stopped, and stayed that way for minutes; of course his brain suffered the consequences. Et cetera.
“How many times…” began Rolo, but found his voice to be weak and raspy.
“You haven’t been awake much,” said Lelouch. “This is the 8th time I’m telling you this.”
Lelouch had been wearing a different outfit, that time. Something white and embellished. And he’d looked shrewdly at Rolo and said, “You seem more lucid today than any of the previous times.”
Rolo had looked at him, and Lelouch had said, “You understand that what you did nearly killed you, don’t you? Using your Geass has left you with permanent heart and brain damage.”
Yes. Rolo had, actually, heard the risk assessment of his gift before.
“You saved me,” Lelouch said, quietly. Squeezing Rolo’s hand that he’d been holding on top of the covers. “But I can’t let you do that anymore,” he continued, raising his other hand to his face. “Ever again.”
And then Rolo’s memory fails him, again.
But not because of anything that would require a lengthy explanation and pointing at his medical history, no. Definitely not. Because while Rolo knew Lelouch, Lelouch certainly also knew Rolo, so Lelouch didn’t ever bother to ask Rolo first. Lelouch didn’t make Rolo swear any oaths or give any promises that he’d never do it again, promises so easy to break.
He’d gone ahead and ordered Rolo to never again use his Geass.
Strategically, Rolo can admit that it was the best move for Lelouch to make. Since Lelouch doesn’t want him to die, which is about an overwhelming a concept as it was the first time Lelouch saved Rolo, back when he’d just regained his memories. Though, considering what Rolo now knows, there definitely was an ulterior motive back then. (But not this time. Strategically, it was a waste of time for Lelouch to ensure Rolo lives. The only reason left is the fact that Lelouch is very sentimental). So, Lelouch did the smart thing and removed the one thing consistently putting Rolo’s life in danger. A simple choice for Lelouch.
But Rolo’s Geass was also the best feature he had. His only talent. The thing setting him apart from all the other kids in the Geass Order, the ones who got stuck doing lab tests and never got to leave the headquarters. Rolo knew this intimately. Rolo’s Geass was and had always been his ticket out, his greatest gift and defence, the reason he wasn’t just a tool but a beloved weapon.
And Lelouch took it from him.
Apparently, Rolo can still use his legs. He’d made a very impressive lunge at Zero, who’d still easily caught him and lowered him back into his wheelchair. He hadn’t said a word. Rolo, on the other hand, had furiously hissed, “You’re one of the Black Knights who betrayed him, aren’t you? How dare you wear his mask, after killing him-“
“Because he told me to,” said Zero, and no more, because Suzaku always lets people hate him without protesting nor explaining himself.
Suzaku never was around as much as Nunnally and Lelouch would’ve liked when they stayed at Ashford, so it was only when Nunnally returned to the imperial household and Suzaku became a Knight of the Round that she started noticing all things that had changed about Suzaku. He’d become quiet. Burdened. Withdrawn. Sometimes he was even bitter, but for Nunnally he always tried to sound cheerful. He lied a lot, too. And he never, ever reacted to the thinly veiled discrimination in the nobles’ words. Anya would tell Nunnally that Suzaku had been wounded in the field sometimes, too, and once again it’d be impossible to tell from Suzaku himself without literally feeling the bandages.
So, Zero said nothing, of course, and then a nurse appeared from somewhere and wanted to talk to Nunnally, and eventually Nunnally sent Zero away so that she could speak with Rolo and his caregivers privately.
Lelouch had cared enough to set up all of this for Rolo, and Nunnally wants to honour Lelouch’s wishes. And besides that, Nunnally could sympathise with Rolo. Rolo’s tears and helpless rage were both things Nunnally was familiar with. So, even though Nunnally hadn’t been sure what to feel on the way here, she quickly decided that she’d stay at the villa with Rolo for a few days and that she’d make any bigger decisions only after that.
The first day Zero spends holed up on the upper floor, while Nunnally tentatively begins to establish some sort of rapport with Rolo. He tells her he hasn’t looked at any news, that his headaches get too bad if he looks at screens too long, so Nunnally starts by telling him about what’s been happening in the world, from Lelouch’s hostage-taking of the entire UFN council to the current political issues she’s dealing with. She speaks dryly, as if none of what happened involved her in any way, because she just wants to give Rolo a summary of events – but soon he looks overwhelmed anyway.
“Stop,” he says, halfway between pleading and anger. When Nunnally stops speaking he buries his head in his hands, and Nunnally waits.
“None of this makes sense,” he says, muffled. “Why are you here? The only one who’d ever pretended to care was Lelouch, and he-“ his voice chokes and dies abruptly.
“Zero told me about you,” says Nunnally. She doesn’t fidget but she says, “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“Do I-“ repeats Rolo, incredulously, head still bowed. His hair is approximately the same shade as Nunnally’s, which Nunnally first finds curious – in the way of coincidences – and then almost unsettling, considering Rolo had been hand-picked to replace Nunnally, as far as Nunnally understood Suzaku's explanation. But Rolo’s hair colour is hardly his fault. Nunnally can’t say she knows him or likes him yet, but she can sympathise with him – and she could learn to like him too. She’s not just going to abandon him here.
But some things take time.
“I’ll be in the sitting room in the east wing,” Nunnally tells him. “If you want to talk.”
She leaves him and asks a servant to bring her her laptop from the car, because there’s always more work to do when you’re restructuring a country. She’ll do paperwork, and if Rolo wants to talk, then they’ll talk.
(“He’s not Nunnally,” Suzaku had told Lelouch, harshly, after he’d found him sitting at Rolo’s bedside at dawn once again. “He never was. If you’re trying to fool yourself-“
“I know,” Lelouch had hissed. Then he’d looked at Rolo and sighed. “He saved me despite how much I tried to stop him. It’s my fault that he almost died.”
Suzaku could’ve said any number of comforting things, could’ve told Lelouch that Rolo wouldn’t want him to sit sleepless like this and wait when there wasn’t any guarantee Rolo would ever wake up from his coma, that Lelouch had made a promise to set things right and that if he wasted away like this then he’d be breaking it. But Lelouch knew all of that already, and wouldn’t listen if Suzaku tried to offer any words of comfort, and so Suzaku said nothing. Guilt was something you just had to live with.)
Rolo hadn’t known what else to do, so when Lelouch told him he’d have to train up his finer motor control again if he wanted to be able to write, or eat soup, or anything really, Rolo had immediately gotten started. Lelouch had deprived him of his greatest asset and Rolo couldn’t bear the thought of being useless – because being useless meant you’d be discarded, of course. Even Lelouch didn’t collect useless pieces.
The Black Knights betrayed him, but Lelouch had convinced Kururugi to join him somehow, and CC never left his side. Gottwald had seemed useful to keep around as well. Lelouch had had fewer pawns than usual, but they still should’ve been more than strong enough.
And in the end they were all completely useless.
What was the point? Rolo didn’t die when he saved Lelouch, but then Lelouch planned to have himself killed only a few months later anyway. And Rolo can nod along while Nunnally (Nunnally, Nunnally, despicable original but now she’s all that’s left of them-) explains how Lelouch made a plan for world peace and still Rolo doesn’t get it. He doesn’t care about the world. How the hell could Lelouch love the world enough to die for it, after everything the world had done to him?
When Rolo grits his teeth his headaches intensify, and crying makes his head pound in hot, nauseating beats. He hasn’t cried since he was four. He sure as hell didn’t miss doing it, but it’s happened- too many times since his near-death. Since his blunder.
If he hadn’t injured himself and fallen into a coma and spent weeks clawing his way back to proper consciousness, and instead shadowed Lelouch wherever he went, could he have stopped him from dying? Convinced him of a better way? Lelouch had been a manipulative, brilliant liar and a genius tactician who obsessively pursued what he believed and rarely changed his mind – so maybe not. Rolo doesn’t know.
Rolo doesn’t know what to do anymore. Lelouch had wanted him to get better, but Lelouch is dead.
Lelouch is dead, Kururugi’s dead, CC’s gone and even Gottwald has apparently left. Nunnally told Rolo about the reign of the Demon Emperor, obviously, and all Rolo could think about was that no one had told him this as it was happening. Not even mentioned it. Lelouch never spoke a word of his plans to Rolo.
“I didn’t know any of his plans until after,” says Nunnally, having finished her explanations, and Rolo feels briefly cheered up by the fact that for once he and Nunnally had gotten exactly the same treatment from Lelouch.
“He planned for Zero to kill him,” says Rolo. The culmination of his stupid plan.
“Yes,” says Nunnally. She takes a drink from her tea, the same tea she’d served Rolo but Rolo didn’t want to drink it. They’re sitting in the garden because Rolo had followed her out here and found her doing nothing else than drinking tea. Her hands are perfectly steady when she raises and lowers her cup.
Rolo can’t remember how many delicate china teacups he’s broken, dropped or chipped.
He can’t remember how many missions he’s been on, or how many people he’s killed, and now he can’t remember how many times he’d woken up to Lelouch sitting at his bedside. How many awful shaky steps it’d taken to leave that room he’d stayed in at the palace. He can’t remember and he’s afraid that his failures will begin to outnumber his successes. Not that anyone is counting, anymore. Not the Order and not the military and not Rolo.
So, what is Rolo supposed to do now?
“And he wanted that person to continue being Zero,” Rolo says.
“Yes,” says Nunnally quietly. “Lelouch wanted him to be Zero, forever.”
And Lelouch had hated that Rolo killed Shirley, as he now knows. Had hated that Rolo wanted to replace Nunnally. And would probably hate it if Rolo now killed Zero.
Though it’s not like Lelouch is alive to know about it-
And it’s not like Rolo could ever manage to kill this Zero.
(so what now?)
“I suppose you’d have no use of me,” ventures Rolo. “I’m no longer capable of being an assassin, and I never had any other talents.”
He’s essentially worthless.
Nunnally delicately puts her teacup back on its saucer, and then she looks at him for a moment. “I could use an aide,” she says. Deliberating. They watch each other over the cooling tea. “Simply someone I could talk to about anything. Everything. Maybe even about Lelouch.”
She doesn’t truly need him. That much Rolo can figure out himself. But he’s got nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, so it’s with some amount of relief that he says, with careful blankness, “I’d like to be that.”
“Good,” Nunnally says, and smiles.
Still, Nunnally knows nothing has really been solved yet. Among other things there’s the fact that the kind of fervent, desperate devotion Lelouch apparently inspired in Rolo doesn’t just disappear overnight. So when Nunnally the next day overhears Rolo speaking to Zero she’s not surprised. She quickly peeks into the room, but since they’re a few metres away from each other and Rolo sounds calm, and Zero can handle himself besides, she decides not to intervene. Not yet.
But she does stay to listen, hidden behind the door.
“You’re Kururugi,” states Rolo accusingly. He sounds as if he’s carefully keeping his emotions out of his voice.
Surprisingly, Zero folds. “Yes.”
“Then how could you kill him?” demands Rolo.
Suzaku's voice is weary and sounds as if he’s removed Zero’s mask when he says, “Because Lelouch asked me to do it.”
A brief silence.
“If he’s gone,” says Rolo. “Then there’s nothing left tying me here. What if I wanted to leave the country?”
“I think Nunnally would happily help you leave. If you wanted to.”
If he wanted to. Nunnally suspects that what Rolo asked has very little to do with what he actually wants an answer to.
“I shouldn’t have survived,” says Rolo, suddenly. “When I blacked out I knew I’d never wake up again. I’d accepted it. There’s no good reason for me to be alive.”
Suzaku's quiet for a bit, then says, “Lelouch wanted you to live.”
“But why? He’s dead now, and he was the only one who wanted me to live. Living on after he’s dead…”
“Feels wretched, doesn’t it?” Suzaku's voice is just a murmur. “So would you rather throw away the life given to you?”
“No,” answers Rolo, now with anger. “I’m not like you, Kururugi. If there’s no purpose to my life, then… I’ll make my own.”
Nunnally withdraws from the door, leaving them to their discussion. She feels no guilt for eavesdropping, considering how many lies the both of them have told, but she does feel… she feels that strange emptiness she’s come to associate with grief. Grief and acceptance. And at the same time Nunnally’s glad that she heard them say those things. And glad that Rolo isn’t about to give up.
But there’s still a lot of work for her to do. And a lot of things for her to think about.
The last time Rolo saw Lelouch was after he’d been in the villa for a week. After dropping Rolo off Lelouch had gone right back to Pendragon, and when he returned a week later, he’d had Kururugi with him.
The day before that Rolo had spent trying to get around the whole villa without a wheelchair, which had turned out to be a completely idiotic endeavour. He was tired and dizzy enough just sitting down. And that’s not even mentioning how uncoordinated all his movements were. It felt like he was always seasick back then – nowadays, on the other hand, it’s almost like he’s gotten used to it.
Some people can survive anything, it seems.
Kururugi had stood behind Lelouch for his and Rolo’s entire discussion – meaningless talk about Rolo’s recovery – and when Lelouch had suggested they sit down for tea Kururugi had sat down next to Lelouch and continued not to say anything. His expression had been even colder than Rolo remembered it from Ashford. More blank. He’d looked sad, mostly, and eventually he’d just stood up and left.
Lelouch had watched him go for three seconds, Rolo counted, and then he’d taken a deep breath and continued talking and smiling at Rolo like nothing had happened.
At the time, Rolo had thought that Kururugi had sized Rolo up and deemed him unworthy. Useless. And Rolo had furiously thought that in that case he’d despise Kururugi right back; the man had been a traitor and an enemy and Rolo couldn’t understand why Lelouch would ever trust him with anything.
Looking back now, Rolo realises that at the time Lelouch and Kururugi had both believed Nunnally to be dead.
And maybe Rolo wasn’t the one Kururugi had disapproved of.
Nunnally’s decided that they’ll return to Britannia tomorrow, and after a long day of making arrangements regarding the villa she sits down with Rolo to have dinner in the grand old house one last time. It’s just the two of them, Zero busy doing whatever it is he does when he’s avoiding Rolo, and Nunnally tries to coax a genuine smile out of Rolo for half an hour (it seems like Rolo doesn’t smile any smiles that aren’t simply him putting on an act) before Rolo suddenly confesses, “I used to look down on you.”
Nunnally puts down her cutlery and says, “Oh?”
“My mission was to monitor Lelouch, to take your place. Impersonate you.” Rolo looks down at his plate. “But my briefing on your personality only pointed out how gentle and harmless you were. That you couldn’t walk or see. I – for a while I thought I was a much better little sibling to Lelouch than you since I could actually protect him.”
“’Better’?” echoes Nunnally. She’s incredibly familiar with the values old Britannia taught, of course, and Rolo was raised in a cult according to Suzaku, but it’s still so… “You really have no idea about the intrinsic value of human life, do you?”
“What?”
“Your value does not depend on how ‘useful’ you are. Did you love Lelouch because he was useful?” Nunnally takes a deep breath. “No, you didn’t. Lelouch never loved me less because of my disability, because if he did then it wouldn’t really have been love.” Only valuing someone because they’re able-bodied or Britannian or ruthlessly ambitious is absolutely disgusting. But exactly the kind of thing a cult led by their father would’ve preached, as Nunnally will keep in mind. “I know many people have probably told you that you were only good, or loved, or whole as long as you could be an assassin. And they’re wrong. They’ll always be wrong.”
“But the only thing I was good for was being an assassin,” snaps Rolo, glaring at her.
“That’s what they thought, yes,” says Nunnally. “And where did that get them? Where are they now?”
Rolo chews on his words and glares sullenly at her. Nunnally is unfazed.
“My brother didn’t love me because of what I could do,” she says. “And neither did he love you because of your Geass, or ability to walk, or any such bullshit.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?” says Rolo. He sounds frustrated, angry and lost. “Lelouch loved me for no good reason, so what?”
“The fact that you exist is good enough. And what you want to do with your life you’ll have to decide yourself – but if you want to be my aide, I won’t say no.”
Nunnally hears Zero approaching then, and picks up her fork again. She’ll let Rolo think a bit about that before they talk again.
Zero offers to help Rolo pack, and Rolo forces himself to take a moment and think instead of impulsively telling him to go eat shit. And then he decides that actually, it’d be funnier to see Zero packaging his toothbrush and folding his clothes than to just refuse his help on principle.
So, that’s what happens. Zero gathers up Rolo’s meagre belongings for Rolo to arrange in the suitcase they’d brought with them, and they do not speak a word to each other.
Kururugi’s alive, but stubbornly choosing not to be.
And Rolo’s alive and without his Geass. But maybe that’s fine. Maybe he’ll be just fine without a Geass. Maybe he’ll be fine in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, too. Maybe he’ll be fine getting along with Nunnally as her aide, without Lelouch or the Order or anyone to tell him what to do.
Maybe his survival wasn’t just a random pointless fluke. Maybe it could be a second chance.
He feels strangely light, despite his ever-present headache. He feels a very large feeling he doesn’t have a word for, and when he raises his head and looks out the window the sun is setting and he notices how the light falls over the garden, how the golden rays filter through the branches and everything is bathed in light.