[ A little bit of everything. Lelouch always vying for another way to continue on; before his revenge his entire life was a lie, and after carrying out his revenge, a second chance he never asked for. The endgame was always his death; if not at Suzaku's hands, then someone else. Then, his own. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

He's sitting out on one of the empty open-air tables, people-watching, listening intently to intermittent slips of conversation. His Russian is serviceable, brought up by his tutors as a child and later perfected under the care of the Ashford family, but his grasp on Japanese is atrocious; years later and he's still never fully conquered kanji. It evades him still, like the existence he led before receding from view.

Folded into the seat as Jeremiah brings back two whole goblets of what appears to be apple cider, he offers his thanks, takes a grateful sip. ]

I used to make a game of watching others. An idle pastime of mine, trying to understand strangers at just a glance. People give away so much with just a look. [ Talking like he's the chess master that stands atop the world, Lelouch heeds the same old habits. He samples more the drink, fizzy and bubbling. ] Does that count as voyeurism? Still, I've always preferred conclusiveness over doubt.

[ Knowing for certain is everything. It's why everything was a distraction save for his father, why he had to go digging up the circumstances behind his mother's death, why he couldn't be content with his sister. And it's why he's here now, smiling with so much mirth at Jeremiah, once his enemy and now the man he entrusts his life to. ]

Tell me about yourself, Jeremiah. Anything is fine. We've been traveling together for nearly a year now. It'd do you good to talk about what's on your mind.