The afternoon sunlight streamed lazily through the tall windows of the student council room, glinting off half-empty teacups and stacks of fabric rolls. Milly Ashford, wearing a mischievous grin and a tape measure around her neck, stood at the head of the table.
"All right, everyone!" she declared. "Festival costumes are mandatory, no excuses. I've already decided on the theme: Romantic Spring Fantasia.'"
Groans echoed around the room. Rivalz slumped into his chair like a man awaiting execution.
"Does that mean tuxedos? Or, uh, the embarrassing kind of costumes?" he asked, shooting a wary glance at Milly and a worried glance at Lelouch.
"Oh, you'll find out," she said sweetly, already pulling out a sketchpad filled with dangerously elaborate designs.
Lelouch sat at the far end of the table, chin propped on his hand, looking over the sketches with only mild interest. In truth, his mind was mapping Britannian troop movements he'd read about that morning. The festival was less than a week away, and he couldn't ignore the political tides beneath the surface, but Milly's schemes had a way of forcing him to play along.
Milly's next order of business was measuring everyone for costumes. Shirley was first, chatting cheerfully while Milly wrapped the tape around her waist. Rivalz was next, grumbling the entire time. The difference in their approach to the costumes was pretty funny.
Then it was Lelouch's turn.
"Arms out, Lulu," Milly said with mock authority.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered with a chuckle, but complied.
As she measured his shoulders, she leaned in just slightly, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "You've been distracted lately. Trouble in paradise?"
His eyes flicked toward hers, but she only smirked and moved on, as if she'd said nothing unusual. He had to be careful of Milly. She sometimes was a little too smart for her own good.
Later that day, Lelouch found himself walking the garden path with Shirley, who was carrying a bundle of small festival lanterns for the council's display.
"You've been hard to find lately," she said lightly, though there was a faint note of curiosity in her voice.
"Have I?" he asked, offering to carry the lanterns for her.
She nodded as she handed him the lanterns. "You always vanish right after class. I figured maybe you were helping Nunnally more lately… but, I don't know. Something feels different. I just want to make sure you are doing alright."
He gave her his best harmless smile. "I'm still the same as always, Shirley. You're imagining things. I promise I'll find more time for you as well. You have my word."
Her brow furrowed slightly as she pouted, but she let it go.
By evening, the student council room was a chaos of fabric, paint, and decorations. Rivalz was trying to hang paper streamers while balancing on a chair, Milly was arranging flowers with alarming precision, and Shirley was testing lantern colors by holding them up to the sunlight.
Nunnally sat near the window, helping fold paper cranes for the festival's charity booth. Lelouch lingered by her side, guiding her hands gently when she missed a crease.
For a moment, it felt almost normal.
But Lelouch knew better than anyone. Normalcy was only a mask, one that could shatter at the first sound of distant gunfire. It didn't take much for one moment to be peaceful and the next chaos. What matters is the one controlling the chaos from the shadows.
Just as they were packing up for the night, Rivalz stuck his head out the window and called, "Hey, Lelouch! There's a delivery here for you. It looks kinda mysterious to me."
Lelouch blinked and took a moment to process it. "For me?"
"Yeah. It's a big package. Looks pretty expensive. You getting something for a girl?"
That sent a ripple of unease down his spine. Very few people knew how to reach him here. Even fewer would risk sending something directly to Ashford Academy. He rose from his seat and ignored Rivalz's comment. With a mask of casual indifference firmly in place, he made his way to the front gates. Lelouch was on guard even though he appeared harmless.
A sleek black case sat on the ground, unmarked except for a single folded card tucked under its handle. The handwriting on the card was precise, elegant, and seemingly familiar. His eyes widened ever so slightly.
Lelouch's fingers tightened on the case.
Things just became a lot more complicated.