Suzaku ficlet, untitled
Actually written somewhere around Episode 11 as part of something else. Suzaku semi-analysis, spoilers for Episode 16. Posted partly because journal needs some content, dammit.
The ghettos reminded him of old animation, the ones Japan used to make when it still had its own production houses, when everyone still spoke the Japanese language and foreign occupation was just material for cheesy sci-fi flicks. He remembered watching a lot of them in shaded villas with his parents and grandparents, waving fists about and cheering the heroes on. It reminded of him of these old animation when Lelouch said he would destroy Britannia, like one of those moments where the screen closes in, the music stops, and destiny realizes it has something important to do. He had thought about watching those old animation with Lelouch; he had thought about standing up and swearing a vow that will never break, but he did not.
Perhaps he just realized it a lot earlier than most. Life was not like a film where everyone plays a hero, everything is possible, and destiny smiles on those who believed. Life tasted like bitter tea and dried, nearly meatless fish just barely enough to survive on. Let time pass by enough and sooner or later even the most idealistic of dreamers would realize : you are not the hero of this story. Suzaku was convinced when his father died, and nothing was ever changed. The war did not stop. In a film, it would have, and they would lived happily ever after.
Suzaku liked to think of Japan where everyone speaks Japanese and gaijins are avoided and always foreign. Perhaps it was a touch of karma that they knew how to be foreign themselves, with their identity stolen and last names spoken first instead of second. Only after he had given up dreaming of the day Britannia falls and cursing them with every ounce of his being, he started to try to understand. There was a world he and Nunnally played make-believe with when they were young. In that world, Japan was its own sovereign country. Suzaku was in the parliament, Nunnally could dance and learn how to paint. Lelouch was still a prince, but he had easy smiles for interviews and always said he loved his new home as much as his old. He was constantly nominated into the Chess Grandmaster lists, and each tournament would have both Suzaku and Nunnally disrupting their entire work schedule in favor of the television. He realized after they parted ways that what all Nunnally wanted was a world both of them could be happy, and Lelouch would not have to try so much anymore.
The hero of the story would end everything, help everyone, and does the impossible. He would bring down the foundations and bring back freedom. Over the years Suzaku had came to accept that he was not the hero and neither was Lelouch, gone, bitter, helpless Lelouch---they could not do what heroes were made to do. They could not bring a happy ending to this story.
But he was the Prime Minister's son, the final Prime Minister who died 'for peace', and there was always a pang of guilt every time he walked past Shinjuku. A small, quiet pang that said : This country used to be mine. It's this way because of me.
He didn't want to give up trying.
Suzaku edged his white Knightmare Frame forward, advancing to his designated position in the ghetto. Zero was wrong, he was right, and he would prove it. It did not matter if he was called a traitor, if Britannia commanded atrocities. He had been there once before.
As long as his own methods were right, the ends would justify the means.
The ghettos reminded him of old animation, the ones Japan used to make when it still had its own production houses, when everyone still spoke the Japanese language and foreign occupation was just material for cheesy sci-fi flicks. He remembered watching a lot of them in shaded villas with his parents and grandparents, waving fists about and cheering the heroes on. It reminded of him of these old animation when Lelouch said he would destroy Britannia, like one of those moments where the screen closes in, the music stops, and destiny realizes it has something important to do. He had thought about watching those old animation with Lelouch; he had thought about standing up and swearing a vow that will never break, but he did not.
Perhaps he just realized it a lot earlier than most. Life was not like a film where everyone plays a hero, everything is possible, and destiny smiles on those who believed. Life tasted like bitter tea and dried, nearly meatless fish just barely enough to survive on. Let time pass by enough and sooner or later even the most idealistic of dreamers would realize : you are not the hero of this story. Suzaku was convinced when his father died, and nothing was ever changed. The war did not stop. In a film, it would have, and they would lived happily ever after.
Suzaku liked to think of Japan where everyone speaks Japanese and gaijins are avoided and always foreign. Perhaps it was a touch of karma that they knew how to be foreign themselves, with their identity stolen and last names spoken first instead of second. Only after he had given up dreaming of the day Britannia falls and cursing them with every ounce of his being, he started to try to understand. There was a world he and Nunnally played make-believe with when they were young. In that world, Japan was its own sovereign country. Suzaku was in the parliament, Nunnally could dance and learn how to paint. Lelouch was still a prince, but he had easy smiles for interviews and always said he loved his new home as much as his old. He was constantly nominated into the Chess Grandmaster lists, and each tournament would have both Suzaku and Nunnally disrupting their entire work schedule in favor of the television. He realized after they parted ways that what all Nunnally wanted was a world both of them could be happy, and Lelouch would not have to try so much anymore.
The hero of the story would end everything, help everyone, and does the impossible. He would bring down the foundations and bring back freedom. Over the years Suzaku had came to accept that he was not the hero and neither was Lelouch, gone, bitter, helpless Lelouch---they could not do what heroes were made to do. They could not bring a happy ending to this story.
But he was the Prime Minister's son, the final Prime Minister who died 'for peace', and there was always a pang of guilt every time he walked past Shinjuku. A small, quiet pang that said : This country used to be mine. It's this way because of me.
He didn't want to give up trying.
Suzaku edged his white Knightmare Frame forward, advancing to his designated position in the ghetto. Zero was wrong, he was right, and he would prove it. It did not matter if he was called a traitor, if Britannia commanded atrocities. He had been there once before.
As long as his own methods were right, the ends would justify the means.