Disclaimer: Don't own Outlaw Star

Also, I was listening to Good to be in Love by Frou Frou as I wrote that, and that's Aisha's letter, but I rearranged it somewhat, so I don't really own that either...

Why did I write this? I don't know...

I felt lonely, I think.

~*~

He didn't even bother to call. The message came in a letter. Aisha saw who it was from and grumbled his name under her breath, turning the envelope over and over in her hands, nervous and excited at the same time. Then, carefully, she peeled the flap back with one long fingernail and extracted the folded paper within.

"Rei," she murmured, fingers trembling as she skimmed over the first line. Dear Aisha. It was just... Hadn't she once been so important to him that she deserved a more personal greeting?

I miss you.

She smiled slightly, because she missed him too. And she stopped reading there - it all brought back pleasant memories, the few things that she liked about her childhood and teenage years. And then she read the rest of the paragraph, and it felt like the world had caved in.

~*~

I don't know where to start... Say I'm tired or throw a party... These eyes are lying about more than a smile, and all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways...

I don't like it.

~*~

The rain didn't suit her. It made her already messy hair curl in white tendrils that clung to her cheeks and brushed across her lips, which had been pressed to a straight, impassive line, and soaked through her clothes. Not her usual attire - a pair of black sweatpants that hung limply off her hips and gave not a hint about the shape of her legs, along with a long- sleeved shirt that had transformed from a light, stormy color to a dark gray due to three hours of exposure to heavy precipitation.

Gene leaned in the doorway to the warehouse, a drink held in one hand a magazine in the other. His narrow hip rested lightly against the frame, his right leg crossed over the left at the ankle, a look of disdain on his face. "Come out of the rain," he commanded dully.

"No."

"Fine. Get sick. Die for all I care." He'd done his job - Melfina had said to check on Aisha, and he had just completed that mission. Now he could get back to dinner.

His shadow no longer darkened the doorway.

She looked at her bare feet, toes peeking out from beneath the flimsy material of too long pants legs, and frowned. A puddle reflected and distorted her face, twisting the image, alternating between beautiful and clownish.

~*~

I still adore you, but it's ok. You were so beautiful... I feel black and blue all over. You're breaking my throw - you'll never know what I'm thinking about it...

It's good to be in love.

~*~

Jim called for her to come in. He stood there and cried her name over and over, but she did not budge one inch from where she sat on the curb. Finally, the boy called for back-up and Melfina ran out, a newspaper held over her head to protect that glossy, black hair from the pouring rain, and she crouched at Aisha's side, pleading with her to come indoors before she caught a horrible cold.

"Go away, Mel," mumbled the C'tarl C'tarl. "I'll come in when I feel like it." And with a flick of her tail, she turned her back on the woman and would listen to her no more.

~*~

This really suits you. Just like everything. I'm happy you're in love. Every color seems to go where you do...

~*~

Suzuka came out only after everyone else had tried their luck, gliding out into the rain unnoticed, not caring that it dampened her hair and kimono, sitting down on the curb beside Aisha. She folded her hands demurely in her lap and slanted her gaze over to the other's way, red lips curving down in a frown. "Why are you here, Aisha?" she asked quietly.

Aisha, still deeply involved in her pouting, propped up one elbow on her knee and laid her chin in her hand, glaring out into the street with angry blue eyes, clenching her jaw in a resolve not to converse.

"Aisha," prodded the assassin quietly, firmly.

"An old friend of mine wrote me a letter," she finally admitted, growling.

"What did the letter say to make you upset?"

"Well," said Aisha, turning to face her friend, her expression becoming a bit more annoyed. She raised her hands and gestured expressively, as if it explained everything, "It was an old boyfriend."

"Oh. I see." But Suzuka didn't. She didn't care much for affairs of the heart, and gave men very little power over her - if any.

"Yeah," continued Aisha cattily, making a face, "we never really officially broke up. It was kinda funny, Suzu - he was always walking away when we argued, and even though he knew that really hurt me, he just would walk out the door without a word if I confronted him on something. Half the time I didn't think he was coming back, but I always waited for him. Always. ...well, except that last time. That's when he stormed out one day and I left too. He expected me to be there when he came back, all cooled off and ready to talk, but I wasn't. I had run away, just to make him sorry, but too much time passed and I lost the nerve and the desire to go back..." Her voice trailed off as she lowered her gaze to the ground again, staring at the droplets of rain colliding with pavement, watching them shatter and displace. "I never talked to him again up until he found me somehow and sent this letter...and he's getting married. He wants me to come to the wedding."

Suzuka only let the surprise show for a second before calm swept over her face once more. "Are you going?"

Aisha was silent for a few moments. Her lips curled into a smile as she contemplated, as she remembered his face and his voice and embrace and the whispered promises. And then, she shook her head, wet hair cascading about her face. "I can't," she said, her voice lighter, less depressed than it had been only seconds ago.

"You can't?"

"I can't!" She flashed a toothy grin. "I'll just write him a letter instead. After all, it's a bit expensive to travel all the way back home, and it's not like Gene is nice enough to take me." She stood up, soaking wet, and tried to look happy, but Suzuka saw the lie in her eyes and knew the pain was still there.

~*~

I feel so powerless. I want to stop it somehow. But what can I do? Why is this happening... How's it happening....without me?

How can you feel it without me?

~*~

There were wet patches on the paper, where it wrinkled once dried because she had not bothered to wipe off her hands before writing him, hadn't even changed her clothes or toweled off. Just sat down and picked up a pen and started to write.

She wanted to ask him if he had ever seen the pain that she harbored every time he walked away, if he ever saw how unhappy she was even as she told him it was all ok and that his actions were forgiven and forgotten. In her mind, she recalled sitting with him and all their friends, his arm around her, and she was smiling, laughing, holding her drink cupped in both hands and feeling like she was dead inside.

But it had been good too. She wanted to include that. She had always felt secure when he held her, and she loved being with him, talking to him, and she was even jealous of this girl he was marrying. Rei, you were one of my best friends, she started to write, and then scribbled it out after remembering how she had told him in person once and he had looked at her, smiled sweetly, and told her that she could never be one of his best friends. He loved her, yes, but friendship was out of the question.

That hurt too.

In the end, she didn't write any of the things circulating her mind. She had never been too articulate, and she felt stupid after reading her feelings on paper. The letter she actually sent was simple and almost child-like. It had a rhythm to it - it was repetitive.

But it was how she felt.

~*~

It's good to be in love. It really does suit you. Just like everything.

Goodbye, Rei.

I'm happy you're in love.

Aisha.

~*~

Yeah, a bit out there. Whatever. Review.