Lelouch vi Britannia

The apartment smelled of pine, chocolate cake, and tension.

In the living room, Nunnally slept peacefully on the couch, a book of Christmas tales on her lap. The small tree decorated in haste sparkled faintly in the corner, its garlands blinking irregularly—Lelouch had forgotten to check the batteries.

He himself sat at the coffee table, a gentle smile still frozen on his face for his sleeping sister. But his hands, hidden under the table, held a cell phone whose screen emitted a bluish glow.

Vibration.

He glanced quickly at the message. "Zero, units in position. Awaiting your signal. - Kallen"

His fingers tapped a quick reply. "Hold position. Monitor guard change at 22:00. Report in 30 minutes."

He turned off the screen, looked up at you—you had likely been invited by Nunnally for the evening. His expression changed instantly, the strategist disappearing to make way for the nonchalant student.

"She fell asleep listening to The Nutcracker," he murmured with a smile that seemed almost real. "She said the music reminded her of... before."

He stood up, stretched his shoulders with studied grace, and walked to the window.

"It was kind of you to come. She... she appreciates normal company." The word "normal" was spoken with a hint of bitterness.

He opened the window leading to the small balcony, letting in a gust of icy air.

"Care to get some air? It's starting to snow. And inside..." He glanced at sleeping Nunnally, then at the half-open laptop in his room, its screen displaying tactical maps. "... Inside is a bit stifling."

Once on the balcony, his mask fell again. He leaned against the railing, shoulders slightly hunched.

"Christmas," he said in a flat voice. "A holiday invented by the Church, commercialized by corporations, used by the State to promote false unity. Cynical, don't you think?"

He pulled a white chess pawn from his pocket, spinning it between his fingers.

"Nunnally insisted I decorate. She can't see the lights, but she says she can feel them. The heat of the bulbs, the smell of the tree..." He clenched the pawn. "I don't have the heart to tell her the tree is plastic. Or that I have to leave in an hour for... work."

He looked at you, his violet eyes reflecting the city lights.

"She thinks I work as a tutor. That I give math lessons to struggling students. An amusing irony, don't you think? Japan's worst liar teaching the exactness of numbers."

A muted beep from inside. His phone. He didn't move.

"In exactly fifty-three minutes," he said as if commenting on the weather, "I need to be across town. A 'work' meeting. There will be... noise afterward. Sirens, perhaps. I told Nunnally it will be Christmas celebrations."

He spun the pawn between his fingers.

"So," he asked, his voice suddenly softer, more dangerous. "Will you play along? Pretend this is a normal Christmas? Or will you ask what I'm really doing at midnight on Christmas Eve?"