Something was missing
Amethyst eyes marveled at the bright shades that adorned the once, stark white of the subway walls.
Hang for Hope, it said, vivid hues adding life to the dull and peeling white paint. It was actually pretty. A nice change, because it made the surroundings a little less unattractive.
In a city that personified sin, the last thing he expected was to see something so innocent and so ridiculously naïve. Strangely enough, although it was hardly life-changing, Lelouch Lamperouge felt immensely relieved to know that there was someone out there who wasn’t like anybody else. A non-conformist, he thought, as he chuckled to himself.
He found it amusing that someone still believed in such silly things as hope. It was comical, really. Because hope was a nonsensical term used by people who refused to acknowledge the fact that in the end, they would all be going to hell. It was childish to say the least. A fairytale. A load of bullshit, as one of his classmates so bluntly put it.
And that was probably why said classmate was gifted with a broken nose and a swollen eye from Lelouch himself.
Absently, the dark-haired teen reached for the wall. His fingers had barely touched the colored surface when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming toward him.
“Don’t touch it!” A female voice echoed throughout the empty subway.
Lelouch blinked several times before turning around slowly to face whoever it was who wanted to crack his eardrums.
He found himself staring at a girl, roughly his age, with turquoise eyes that did not quite match her red hair, a can of spray paint was held firmly in her slightly trembling hand and her left cheek was smeared with blue. “Don’t touch it.” She repeated, voice cracking at the end.
He thought that she was the most fragile-looking thing he had ever seen. Apart from his sickly sister, that is. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how unbelievably gaunt she looked in her baggy cargo pants, over-sized red hoody and worn-out shoes.
“Sorry. I was curious.” He shrugged, eyes softening the teensiest bit when he saw how she limped awkwardly as she came nearer.
He hadn’t noticed the dried blood that had stained her pants at the thigh. Nor had he spotted the small gash at the base of her throat earlier. It was barely noticeable because of her collar.
The girl scrutinized him, eyes widening a fraction when she saw that he was only a high school student. She scuffed her tattered sneakers on the ground and smoothed out the front of her shirt in self-consciousness. Of course appearances were hardly significant, but she was a girl and Lelouch was most definitely a good-looking guy.
“It’s still wet,” she almost squeaked out when she saw him staring, curiosity evident in those pools of heliotrope. “you don’t want to get paint on your hands, do you?”
“I guess,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “actually it’s pretty good, you know. It just… lacks something.”
The girl bowed low to hide the faint blush that had crept up to her cheeks. She gave a muttered thanks and shook the can slowly, her sleeve sliding up and down her thin wrist. Lelouch watched as she came up to the wall and filled out a blank space with a blinding yellow shade.
“You do this on a regular basis? Vandalizing, I mean.” His eyes drifted to her pants’ thigh again and his brows knitted together in concern.
“People who live in the streets have too much time on their hands… I figured I should spend mine doing this. It’s the only thing I can do, so I’ll just do it.”
She’d started humming to herself, almost as if she’d forgotten he was actually there, sitting on the cement right beside her, tie askew and uniform flecked with red, yellow and blue. He continued to watch her as she sprayed paint on the wall, smiling as she added color after color.
It was the first time he noticed how pretty she was.
Kallen was always careful. She never really shared much about her life in the slums. Never shared anything about her womanizing father or her drug-addicted mother. She only told stories of her late brother who had died in a riot a few years back. Kallen had mentioned that he was kind, almost doting and that he cared about his little sister so much.
She also said something about joining a small gang a few years back and that they had started a melee at a rundown warehouse a few blocks from Lelouch’s school. Their group had won eventually, but she hadn’t realized that Naoto had gotten caught up in the fray.
Kallen wondered over and over what he had done to deserve a bullet in the head.
Lelouch, on the other hand, always talked about school, Suzaku, his best friend and Nunnally, his handicapped sister. He never bothered to mention anything about anyone else in his family other than Nunnally… He never talked about his murdered mother or his uncaring father. Never talked about his other siblings who were too full of themselves, too hungry for power and money that they had plotted to kill their damned half-brother at the tender age of seven.
He mentioned snippets of being accused of murder once and that he was only acquitted because of lack of evidence. Though, he did laugh rather loudly as he told the story, giving Kallen the impression that he wasn’t being serious about it.
Sometimes Lelouch wondered if Clovis had really deserved a bullet in the head.
He’d seen her once or twice sitting with a group of men in one of the alleyways downtown. Two times he saw them with drugs, and once with guns.
Lelouch disapproved greatly, but he never said anything to Kallen. He convinced himself that it was not his business to interfere with her affairs anyway… And besides, the girl was not about to listen to some high school kid she’d just met a few months ago. That much he knew.
But if he was going to be honest with himself, the real reason was because he was afraid that she would hate him for stopping her. He didn’t want to lose the friendship they had started in that subway, in front of the graffiti painted wall.
She’d seen him once or twice glancing at her as he passed by the alleyways downtown. Two times she had drugs in her hands, and once with a gun.
Kallen had second thoughts about it. She’d never gotten a good grasp of drugs, and she never did take an interest in guns even though she shot like a total badass. But she decided to give Mary Jane and good old Heckler and Koch a try because Lelouch didn’t seem to mind. He wouldn’t waste his time thinking about her welfare anyway. Yes, they were friends, but he wouldn’t care so much about her to actually tell her to stop whatever the hell she was doing.
But if she were being honest with herself, she was just waiting for him to make the move. Waiting for him to tell her to stop because she would listen to whatever he had to say.
“You’ll be fine!”
“I won’t! They’ll HATE me!”
“Of course not. Stop being stubborn, Kallen!”
“I’m ugly and short. My hair is weird and I vandalize! I’m a criminal, Lelouch. A freaking criminal!”
“You’re being ridiculous. They will love you. And if I happen to be lying, well, you can shove that can of paint up my butt.”
“Oh my god, Lelouch, daaaaaahling! She’s just adorable! Get her on the chair so I can start putting on make-up. I‘m going to make her look FAB-U-LOUS!”
“Well, this sucks.”
“Tell me again why I’m doing this for you?” She moved uncomfortably in her heels, clutching his hand as if it were her dear life.
Lelouch winced at the pain. Kallen had done him worse physical harm… He could certainly handle more. “Because you’re my friend and I needed a date for prom.”
“Uhm, okay. But could I at least take the shoes off?”
He sighed and guided her out of the stuffy room, away from the curious eyes of his schoolmates. Lelouch had barely dodged the questions they had attempted to ask him about the pretty red-haired girl.
Sure, he had expected some sort of commotion when the alleged Ice Prince actually brought a real date. But he didn’t think that half of the school’s male population would be checking Kallen out. It was kind of cool though, but he’d have to draw the line before they decide to do anything stupid.
Like ask her for a dance or something.
He led her to a small outdoor stage and almost carried her up the steps, taking in her nice cinnamon scent in the process. He blinked, still not used to her not smelling like paint.
The dark-haired teen had actually been preparing for this weeks ago. It had been a while since he’d realized what the girl in the subway had really meant to him. And he’d been thinking of countless ways to confess to her. Unfortunately, no matter how intellectually equipped Lelouch Lamperouge was, he was undoubtedly romantically challenged. The boy had no romantic bone in his body whatsoever.
And so, with the help of Suzaku, Nunnally and some others who wanted to lend a hand to the hopeless cause, Lelouch had dared to delve into No Man’s Land.
The realm of chick flicks.
Suzaku and Rivalz had only been there to serve as medical support for when their friend’s head suddenly exploded because of the sheer girliness of The Princess Diaries, A Cinderella Story and even Twilight. Thankfully, after hours of mind-numbing kissing scenes and 'pops', Lelouch had only experienced a minor headache. The man had more endurance than he was given credit for.
“It’s pretty dark,” Kallen whispered, squinting at the surroundings, “Lelouch?”
He pressed one finger above her lips and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close so that she could feel his warm breath ghosting over her skin. “Ssh. Watch.”
Paper lanterns lit up suddenly, and hundreds of twinkle lights that twined around wisteria trees were brought to life. Somewhere Kallen couldn’t see, a string quartet had begun playing Claire de Lune.
Lelouch had never really paid much attention to how Kallen looked. She was, on some occasions, relatively good-looking despite the overly large clothes she always wore. But most of the time, he was never really given a chance to admire her features because of the grime that normally coated her face.
Tonight was different, though.
She glowed in that dress she was wearing. Soft pink and sleeveless, showing her smooth shoulders and neck. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail embellished with small white flowers.
He definitely needed to thank Fabiano for the make-over.
“I feel weird. And nauseous.”
The dark-haired boy chuckled and began to gently steer her into a waltz. “You shouldn’t be. You’re actually supposed to be really happy. Preferably jumping with joy or saying something awfully-- yet wonderfully romantic.”
Kallen tried hard not to trip on her feet. “You’ve been watching chick flicks.”
“I suppose I have.” Another chuckle, and she was spun around.
Kallen smiled at him and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “I don’t particularly like anything cliché, so let me do something to make this a little different.”
Lelouch blinked as she wiggled out of his arms and slapped his hand against hers, fingers sliding against his palm. She pulled her fist back and it connected with his.
“I love you, dawg.” Kallen grinned and pulled the befuddled Lelouch into a kiss.
She pressed a hand against his bare chest, her fingers touching his skin tentatively.
“Where did you get these?” Kallen whispered, concern unmistakable in her voice. She traced the scars that marred his torso gently. He didn’t answer her. Instead, he brushed red locks away from her face and stared into her eyes.
“Maybe in time, you’ll find out. But that really doesn’t matter right now.”
His lips made contact with the corner of hers and he heard the soft intake of her breath, followed by a brush of warmth against his. The lack of air forced them apart, and for a while, the only thing he could hear was the erratic thumps of his own heart.
Because he’s gone, now. He’ll never come back.
Lelouch had decided, would never tell her anything about his father.
She didn’t know that they were planning a heist.
She didn’t know that they’d managed to smuggle weapons from god knows where.
She didn’t know that they were going to take anyone hostage.
She didn’t know that they knew about Lelouch.
She didn’t know that they would threaten to kill him if she bailed out on them.
Kallen realized that she didn’t know a lot of things, and sometimes she preferred it if it stayed that way.
She only hoped that Lelouch would remain ignorant of what she was about to do. .
Fabrique Nationale P90 SMG
She should have turned back while she still had the chance
In the end, she couldn’t pull it off. She couldn’t bear it.
And so she ran.
Smuggled sub-machine gun held firmly in her hands, she sprinted across the empty streets of the familiar alleyway, eyes shifting left and right in search for an exit. She could hear their voices getting nearer and nearer, getting closer with each passing moment. Shouts of men, curses and muffled cries of pain reverberated in her ears as she charged into the pelting rain.
Kallen slung the gun over her shoulder and scaled the chain-link fence; her only way out into the streets.
She inhaled sharply as a bullet lodged into her leg but she continued to run, or at least limp fast enough to the subway station. She could hear the noisy rattling of the bullets smacking against glass and brick, and the disgusting sound of her blood spilling all over the place as the pressure on her leg increased.
The girl cursed as she tripped, her gun sliding a few meters away from her. Kallen tried to stand up, but failed miserably because of her useless leg. She muttered panicked curses under her breath as she began to drag her body. Nails dug into the nearest wall. She tried desperately to get up as the white hot pain seared through her like a surge of electricity.
“There she is!” Said a voice and almost immediately, muffled footfalls reached her ears.
Kallen began to prepare for the inevitable.
She turned to face the gang she once thought to be her friends, allies that always had her back. They looked back at her, sick smiles plastered on their faces.
Guilt wracked her heart, countless regrets swam inside her head. She should have never joined the group. She shouldn't have gotten involved. She shouldn't have gotten anyone else involved.
Suddenly, her chest was much more painful than the bullet wound on her leg.
Kallen clenched her eyes shut as she heard the scraping sound of her gun being picked up from the ground.
He should have stopped her while he had the chance.
Her body was slumped sidewise against the wall, bitter red was splashed across the hard concrete behind her. The blood pooled into a puddle, staining her frayed hoody and pants.
The people that gathered around gasped and whispered incoherent words to one another. Some turned away in disgust, some shed tears of pity. They all watched as the red liquid reached out to them in wisps.
He stared at the figure against the wall, his eyes dull and unblinking. Behind her were the words she had painted eight months ago, now smeared with dark crimson that made the message impossible to read.
Still, no matter what others thought, it was HER work, and it was beautiful in his eyes.
The graffiti was finally finished
Author-person: This was originally posted in fanfiction.net by moi under the penname smartaLECs.
I don’t know if this is good or not, (But I’m hoping it is) so tell me what you guys think.
I apologize, though. This wasn’t actually thought out very much and I just kept building up the story as I typed. XD
Er, I edited parts with the cussing and stuff. If I missed any, please do inform me. Thankies.