In the halls of Ashford Academy, a single accidental discovery sparks chaos in the heart of the Britannian Empire. Princess Euphemia li Britannia, beloved by all for her gentle smile, picks up what she thinks is a study notebook in the student council room—only to find it's the private diary of her secret crush, Kururugi Suzaku.
Before she can stop herself, her eyes land on words that make her heart pound: Suzaku has been in love with her from the very first moment they met. But before she can
Code Geass: The Princess Who Fell for Her Rival - Forbidden Diary and a Suspicious Morning
Outside the window, cherry blossom branches swayed in the wind.
The buds were still tight, the early morning air crisp and cool. Euphemia li Britannia knelt on the floor of the student council room.
"[whispers] Haaah..."
Her breath didn't turn white, but the chilly air still brushed against her cheeks. Ashford Academy, in the Tokyo Settlement of Area 11. This was a special place, built in a conquered land, for Britannians. And yet, she felt just a little stifled by the atmosphere here.
When she visited as a princess, everyone bowed deeply. When she went on inspections as Sub-Viceroy, paths cleared without a single complaint. When she picked up a rag to clean, the servants would turn pale and rush to stop her. Everyone was kind. So very kind — and so very distant.
"[gentle] Still, someone has to do it."
That was why she had slipped out early this morning. The student council room, usually so lively, was now perfectly silent. President Milly's odds and ends, Lelouch's books left lying around, everyone's writing utensils scattered about. Euphemia loved this place when no one else was here. Here, she felt like she could just be an ordinary student.
She wrung out the cloth firmly and began carefully wiping down everyone's desks. Her rose-pink hair, reaching all the way to her waist, swayed gently with each movement. The school's green sailor uniform suited her fair skin beautifully.
"...Huh?"
The desk where Suzaku always sat. Something was sticking out from a gap. A worn, brown notebook.
"[surprised] This must be Suzaku's. It's going to fall out."
She gently pulled it free. The cover was soft, as if it had been opened countless times. The moment she held it, something slipped out from inside. A bookmark, perhaps.
As she reached down to pick it up, the pages fluttered open. There, written in straight but slightly clumsy Japanese characters, were lines of text.
Japanese. The language of the people called Numbers, the Elevens. Words that no one was supposed to see in a Britannian school.
It was an invasion of privacy. Euphemia moved to close it immediately. But her large, violet eyes caught one of those characters.
——Yuffie.
Her own nickname. A special sound, like a pet name, evoking her rose-pink hair.
Her heart pounded loudly.
*No*, she thought. I mustn't read this. But her white fingers, as if moving on their own, turned the page back.
——Today, Yuffie was sitting in that seat again.
After that, she couldn't stop. She collapsed to the floor as if crumbling, stifling her trembling breath as her eyes chased the words.
There, written out, was a love letter from a single boy. An Honorary Britannian boy whose homeland had been stolen by Britannia. A boy with unruly dark brown hair who faced discrimination, never complained to anyone, and simply lived looking straight ahead. He had written:
——She's Her Highness the Princess. Not someone the likes of me could ever speak to. But she just needs to smile. If she keeps smiling, then that alone gives me a reason to be here. It makes me feel that coming to this academy wasn't a mistake.
Euphemia clutched the notebook tightly to her chest. Her heart felt like it might burst.
*(I know.)*
She had come here feeling the exact same way. Every day, she had watched his back as he returned to the dorms covered in mud after finishing his military duties. When those emerald-green eyes occasionally looked her way, she was so happy — but she never knew what to say, and once she had even knocked over a nearby vase.
*(It's the same. I was thinking the same thing as you.)*
Footsteps echoed from the hallway. A disciplined, trained gait.
Euphemia's head shot up.
*(It's Suzaku.)*
There was no mistaking those footsteps. She scrambled to her feet and hid the notebook behind her back. Her heart hammered wildly. She could feel her face turning bright red, all the way to her ears.
The door opened.
Standing in the doorway was a tall young man. His unruly dark brown hair gleamed faintly in the morning light. His strong-willed, emerald-green eyes widened slightly in surprise. But his expression quickly softened into its usual gentleness.
"Euphemia... Your Highness? Good morning. You're here early."
"[nervous laughter] Ah, ah, aah, good morning, Suzaku! You're early! Really early! It's morning!"
She had no idea what she was saying. Still hiding the diary behind her back, she edged backward bit by bit.
Suzaku tilted his head slightly.
"Well, yes... I forgot something. Um, did something happen?"
"[scared] N-n-nothing happened! Nothing at all! Really! This is just a memo pad!"
The excuse flew out before he had even seen anything. Her delicate body was rigid with tension. Suzaku took a step into the room. Euphemia tried to take another step back. And then.
She stepped squarely on the hem of her own white cape.
"[surprised] Ah—"
The world tilted forward.
Instinctively, she reached out. The hand she had been hiding behind her back. The hand still clutching the diary — she thrust it forward.
"Watch out!"
A strong force caught her slender body securely. In the arms of the boy who had walked all the way down the hallway. In the arms of the very person whose love letter she had been reading just moments ago.
She looked up, and right there, his green eyes were before her. Close enough to feel his breath. Euphemia froze. Suzaku didn't move either. It was as if time had stopped.
Suzaku's gaze slowly drifted downward. To Euphemia's hand, still supported by him.
There, unmistakably, his open notebook was clutched in her grip. The color drained from Suzaku's face in an instant.
She had seen it.
Which part? How much had she read? What had he written?!
"[scared] Euphe... mia..."
His voice was hoarse in a way she had never heard before.
Euphemia came to her senses and sprang back from his arms. Her mind went completely blank. Her mouth moved on its own.
"[scared] E-excuse me! The cleaning, the cleaning is finished! I didn't see anything! Not a single speck of dust! So! Goodbye!"
Like a startled rabbit — that was exactly how she fled from the student council room. The diary was still in her hand.
She ran, and ran.
*Thud!*
"Ouch!"
She crashed head-on into a pillar in the hallway. The force was so great that her body recoiled backward. A sharp, stinging pain shot through her nose, and tears welled up, blurring her vision.
"[crying] Thaaat hurt..."
Holding her nose, she still didn't stop. Tears in her eyes — but she laughed anyway. She was so clumsy. Everything was such a mess.
*(But Suzaku's feelings...)*
*(They were the same as mine.)*
Even though it hurt, deep in her heart there was a warmth she couldn't do anything about. With a crumpled smile, she started running again.
Meanwhile.
In the shadows of the hallway. Behind a cold pillar where the early morning light didn't reach, two Britannian students stood. Male students. They wore fine uniforms, and the crests of noble houses gleamed at their collars.
"[cold] Did you see that? Her Highness the Princess, embracing that Number."
"[sarcastic] Yeah. We saw something interesting. I wonder what face that holier-than-thou Honorary Britannian will make... huh."
The two exchanged cold smirks, glanced at each other, and left the spot without a sound. Euphemia's clumsy drama was no longer their secret alone.
Left alone in the student council room, Suzaku stood rooted to the spot for a long while.
The door, still open. The hallway where Euphemia had vanished. His ears still held the dull thud of her crashing into the pillar.
"...Haaah."
He let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall.
"[sad] What am I doing..."
What had he written in that diary? He remembered better than anyone. Her smile. Her voice. His foolish self, saved by all of it. Knowing full well the difference in their stations, yet unable to cast aside his admiration — he had simply poured out that weak version of himself.
*(She read it. Yuffie read it.)*
His face burned bright red. His heart was unbearably loud.
*(How am I supposed to face her now?)*
He held his head in his hands. Outside the window, the wind had begun to shake the cherry blossom branches again, harder this time.
And so, their completely mismatched day began to creak into motion. Even though they liked each other more than anyone else in the world, it seemed that today, once again, things wouldn't go smoothly.
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