Dear Rubedo

SUMMARY: "I love you." Words from a sweet childhood love letter that delighted Rubedo's heart, yet shattered Albedo's.

GENRE: Romance/Drama
RATED: G / K
PAIRING(S): (Slight) Rubedo/Sakura & Albedo/Rubedo

COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Xenosaga
STORY TAKES PLACE IN: Pre-Miltian Conflict

COMMENTS: I should be honest; I wrote this one-shot approx. three years ago. Which, if some readers recall, was when I first joined FFnet – green and insecure about my abilities (or lack thereof) as a writer, which regretfully put the kibosh on drabbles such as the fic you're about to read. But of course, it's three years later, and (I'm assuming that) my writing skills have improved (somewhat), along with my confidence. :) So viola and enjoy!

Dear Rubedo
Aiselne Nocturnus

Never before had Rubedo received a love letter. Come to think of it, he never received any type of non-digital correspondence. Messages were forwarded first to Dmitri, usually. Rubedo may have been the Yuriev Institute's prized link master, popular amongst Federation investors of the U.R.T.V.s' cause, but he certainly never received "fanmail" to congratulate his efforts.

Then again, the Institute was not some Lost Jerusalem high school where squealing girls littered the all-star quarterback's locker with sticker-sealed letters. There were not many "girls," per se, around the institute, either – only a handful of female U.R.T.V.s who hardly bothered with the male types. Though there were several female scientists, they were more accurately defined as "women" with higher interests than a twelve-year-old link master.

So Rubedo was not surprised that this was his first time receiving a love letter.

"Dear Rubedo."

Granted, it was not the most poetic of love letters. Rubedo was well read and a good critic when it came to various forms of literature (if he did say so himself). Romance novels were littered with love letters of all calibers and clichés. If he were to receive one himself, Rubedo sometimes imagined getting a love letter embellished with the most eloquent words, flowing from every sentence and paragraph as beautifully as a string of pearls. He would have been lying if he said he was not a little disappointed by how anti-climactic his first love letter appeared. It did not even include the corny heart-shaped sticker on the back of the envelope!

"Dear Rubedo, I love you."

That was all.

But who needed eloquence and trite to be heartfelt? The point of any love letter, beautifully written or not, was to confess one's deepest affections for another.

Besides, the letter's author must have been exceptionally nervous when they wrote to Rubedo. The handwriting was shaky, barely recognizable never mind legible. No fancy calligraphy. Not that Rubedo's handwriting was spectacular, especially since this was the age when people were more apt to type than write. A hand-written letter was such a rarity, perfect for Rubedo and his admiration for old-fashioned books and such. Too bad the love letter's chicken scratch could not have been easier on the eyes. It took a few reads for Rubedo to realize what the letter was attempting to convey.

The author's anxiety was understandable; it was never easy to confess one's love…especially confess it directly to the person one loves. Rubedo spoke from experience; he was having his own troubles mustering the courage to admit his feelings to a certain young lady. He always worried whether or not she would love him back, and feared confessing his feelings might ruin their friendship. If they could not be "boyfriend and girlfriend," Rubedo at least wanted him and Sakura to remain close friends.

A part of Rubedo told himself not to worry about Sakura's feelings. She was too sweet of a girl to ever dislike him or end their friendship. Plus, above all else, she had already kissed him, albeit it was only a peck on the cheek – though that never meant her simple affection did not mean the world to Rubedo.

But because he and Sakura did not kiss…well, kiss like couples kissed in romance novels…on the lips…Rubedo was still foggy regarding Sakura's side of their relationship. He certainly knew how he felt about her, but Rubedo also wondered if he was just jumping to conclusions. Wishfully thinking?

Other than reading books, Rubedo held little understanding about the world outside the Yuriev Institute. He had no clue about girls. For all Rubedo knew, whatever he shared with Sakura Mizrahi could strictly be platonic.

"Dear Rubedo, I love you."

But now…Rubedo found himself with a love letter in his hands. If this was not the proof he needed to quell his anxieties, then nothing could cure him!

"What do you have there, Rubedo?"

The redhead perked and spun around upon hearing the curious yet composed voice of his youngest brother. Instinctively to elude Nigredo and Albedo's lines of vision, Rubedo hid the letter behind his back. The redhead's course of action, naturally, only piqued his younger brothers' interests. Nigredo folded his arms and cocked his head at his eldest brother's weak attempt at discretion. His inquiring green eyes silently repeated his question to Rubedo.

The eldest's hands became sweaty and dampened the letter's paper. Despite the comfortable temperature of the Variants' bedroom, Rubedo noticed his surroundings became awkwardly warm. The link master was not accustomed to situations like these regarding matters of girls and love. It was ironic how Rubedo could maintain his composure on a battlefield, yet he fidgeted and blushed to his ears via a simple love letter!

"Don't make me force an answer out of you, Rubedo," Nigredo teased with a harmless warning, purposely winking with his infamous green eyes. Rubedo knew what his youngest brother was referencing, and this letter was not something that the link master wanted Nigredo to hypnotically pry. Nigredo was only joking, but this was no laughing matter to Rubedo.

Knowing that his love letter was too trivial, yet too important, to be yanked out of his mind like a hooked fish, Rubedo relented. The redhead gingerly brought the letter before his brothers. As Albedo and Nigredo's eyes widened, Rubedo felt his face burn more furiously. He was not used to this level of attention; attention about the opposite sex. But Sakura Mizrahi had that effect on him, and Rubedo did not consider that to be a bad thing.

Just the reverse, Rubedo enjoyed every minute of it. Really, what did he have to be embarrassed about?

"It's a letter from a certain someone," Rubedo replied to Nigredo, unable (and unwilling) to restrain his smile. He knew his brothers would tease the hell out of him, but…was that so bad? In the end, Rubedo still won Sakura's affections. Brotherly badgering was a small price to pay compared to Rubedo's ultimate prize.

So why not embrace the letter's afterglow? Love letters did not happen everyday, especially within the Yuriev Institute. If Rubedo liked Sakura, and if he liked how she made him feel, then Rubedo should be happy. Frankly, "happy" was not a strong enough word to describe how Rubedo felt.

It took another moment, but reality eventually sunk into his pubescent body. The more Rubedo thought about the letter, the more he soaked up the blissfulness of youth. His blush was in no hurry to leave, but that did not hinder a victorious smirk from his lips.

Rubedo was the first of his brothers to receive a love letter and the first to get a girlfriend. As if his "little brothers" could top that! "I'd love to tell ya more about it, but this letter's kinda' private… if you catch my drift."

Nigredo exchanged a hesitant look with Albedo, appearing uncertain if they should dig too deeply into a so-called "private" letter. Rubedo figured the boys would let sleeping dogs lie. Heavens only knew what details that letter contained, though the redhead realized his mistake by showcasing the message in the first place; truly personal letters would be kept secret.

"Who sent you that?" though did Nigredo really have to ask? The baby brother already knew, Albedo already knew, and they figured that Rubedo would know, too. It did not take a genius to unlock the mystery of the love letter's author. Still, it was always more amusing to see Rubedo react to these sorts of things; the oldest brother acting dumber and less mature than his younger siblings.

Smirking, the black-haired boy seized the opportunity. "Or more accurately, who's desperate enough to send you that, right?" he chuckled with another wink, jabbing Albedo's arm for effect.

Despite the golden chance to gang up with Nigredo and knock Rubedo down a peg or two, Albedo merely narrowed his eyes and grumbled under his breath. "Hilarious, Nigredo."

Agreeing with Albedo (for once in his life), Rubedo shot his littlest brother a glare, though it was not very forceful considering the leader's still-flushed cheeks. It did not help that Rubedo's lips lost the battle against his euphoric smile. Nothing, not even Nigredo's jokes, could possibly spoil Rubedo's mood.

Allowing Nigredo's tease to roll off his shoulder, Rubedo fought fire with fire and retorted with his own wittiness. "Heh, like I'd tell you who wrote the letter," he countered, rewarded with frowns from Albedo and Nigredo. As he casually folded his hands behind his head, the red-haired child's silly grin never faltered. "Maybe when you're older I'll tell you about it, 'little' brothers."

Nigredo just rolled his eyes. "Albedo and I aren't that much younger, Rubedo." At the most, the Variant boys were only a few months apart, and those months regarded Nigredo's birth. The twins were born minutes, if not seconds, apart. Judging by Rubedo's current behavior, he was not the one to be belittling others when it came to maturity.

But too happy-go-lucky to concern himself with acting his age, Rubedo shrugged indifferently. "Aw, c'on you two!" he started incredulously, as if the boys were discussing something as apparent as their hair colors. "It's pretty obvious who sent the letter!"

The younger boys exchanged looks once more, a silent conversation that Rubedo was too elatedly blind to notice. Instead, the link master got a spark of brilliance. Already dressed in full uniform and boots, Rubedo bolted for the automatic bedroom door, barely giving it time to slide open before calling back to his brothers.

Victoriously raising the love letter beside his winking blue eye, Rubedo beamed, "Now, if you 'kids' will excuse me, I'm gonna' go visit her right now! Later!"

Nigredo and Albedo never had the opportunity to object or bid farewell to their red whirlwind, because the eldest vanished before their mouths could open. Sighing in exasperation, Nigredo ran a hand through his raven locks.

"There he goes again," muttered the youngest, before noticing a shift next to him.

Blinking upon realization, Nigredo's eyes watched as Albedo shuffled towards his own bed. Silently the white-haired boy crawled back into his cot and covered himself completely in the sheets. Today's synthetic sun still had several hours left before setting.

"Albedo?" Nigredo asked cautiously, carefully lifting a foot to step forward.

The littlest brother did not get very far when the room echoed a powerful, "GET OUT!"

As if Albedo's voice held the identical, influential powers of Nigredo's, the youngest Variant did as he was told without question. Repelled from the room, the black-haired child headed for the same door Rubedo disappeared behind. As the door slid open in a hiss, Nigredo's chest ached upon his ears noticing muffled sniffles emanating from their bedroom. Pausing at the threshold, the boy looked over his shoulder at the vibrating lump underneath the middle cot's blankets.

Wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say, Nigredo's face softened sympathetically before he stepped away. Even when the door closed behind him, Nigredo could still hear his middle brother's whimpers across the U.R.T.V.s' mental link.

Nigredo knew a situation like this was bound to happen eventually. Albedo had been so certain, too certain, that Rubedo would have come to his senses. After all, how could a debilitated girl possibly write and send a letter? Sadly, this pain was what happened whenever the twins callously assumed something. Wishfully thinking.

Biting his lip, Nigredo stared absentmindedly at his boots. I told Albedo he should have signed that letter.

The End

A/N: The art of assuming can be a very dangerous practice indeed. *sighs* Those twins never learn.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot— my small Christmas gift for the Xenosaga fandom this year (even if this fic has nothing to do with the holidays ^^). Thanks very much for reading. Reviews make nice little gifts, too.

~ Wishing everyone a happy holiday season and New Year 2013! ~