-16-
"So, your boyfriend."
Rukia's eating cereal when it happens because Rangiku's sense of timing is awful and Rukia knows she did it on purpose. "My what," she splutters.
Tatsuki, busy on the stove frying up rice for their breakfast, only snickers over the sizzle of the garlic. "C'mon," the alpha teases, "you think we weren't gonna find out?" Which makes Rangiku laugh at the thought, the pair of them cackling like assholes because Rukia's friends are the worst.
"I mean, unless you've suddenly gotten really religious," Rangiku says innocently.
"Mm," Tatsuki hums, "could explain why she's got a bit of a hitch her step, don't you think? Maybe, too much kneeling? Or…other forms of worship?" The pair of them leer at one another conspiratorially.
"You guys are dicks," Rukia complains.
"Oh, is that what you got?"
That leads to a squeal of laughter, and even though Rukia wishes for the teasing to end with an embarrassed flush and eye roll, when it actually does, Rukia wants to take it back.
It's been awhile since things have felt good between them.
After the argument that sent Rukia hiding away at Ichigo's place a few days ago, the trio have tried to give each other space.
Rangiku had wanted Inoue thrown out; they hadn't agreed to Inoue being their housemate anyway, and in her mind, Inoue had outstayed her welcome after what she'd done to Tatsuki. Tatsuki, on the other hand, couldn't let that happen because Inoue didn't have anywhere else to go.
The argument had really gotten heated when Rangiku pointed out that Tatsuki hadn't even told Inoue that they wanted her to leave in the first place which led to things getting ugly when it was brought up over who would tell Inoue at all.
Rangiku volunteered, but would not be a good option.
Tatsuki should, but definitely wasn't ready to.
And Rukia. After she'd agreed with Rangiku that Inoue had to go, sooner rather than later, Rukia had reminded Tatsuki that if she wanted any control over how the message of Inoue's eviction from their apartment was going to be given, Tatsuki would have to be the one to do it. Rangiku, thereafter, spent any time with Tatsuki in the room pointedly waiting for her to make her move while Tatsuki pointedly ignored Rangiku whenever possible while Tatsuki gives Rukia looks that are torn between sadness and anger that Rukia hadn't volunteered to tell Inoue to leave on Tatsuki's behalf. Not that it would've been fair, even if Rukia was technically the most neutral.
It was certainly the biggest trial their friendship had faced but. Rukia was confident they could come out of it.
Of course, they would.
Tatsuki knew they were both coming from a good place – caring about her and her well-being. It was just a matter of facing the hurt that would come with severing a tie with someone for good.
And that relationship with Inoue would surely be severed.
Rukia's walked in enough times on Tatsuki contemplatively chain-smoking out the window, sullen and introspective that Rukia knows it's sinking in what Inoue has put Tatsuki through. It only makes Rangiku more impatient to see the end of it though which, of course, only makes Tatsuki more apprehensive about it.
It's a fine balancing act, and it's been. Hard. For all of them to be around each other. But this morning was a good reminder of how they are – how they've always been – together.
But now that the source of the contention between them is back to muddy their good time. Well.
With a yawn and a cheerful good morning that immediately sends the temperature of the apartment from warm to freezing in seconds, Inoue glides into the kitchen.
Tatsuki, in response, has tensed up, focus immediately sliding to her cooking while Rangiku's good humor vanishes clean off her face. It's frightening how blank it's become.
And how quiet the room suddenly is.
As usual, though, Inoue doesn't seem to notice.
Chattering inanely about a dream she had last night, Inoue eventually says, "Actually, I woke up for a glass of water last night and uhm, heard someone up." After which she darts her gaze between the three of them, settling on Rangiku almost reluctantly who then immediately scoffs before taking a loud sip of her coffee.
That much at least makes Tatsuki snort.
After an awkward silence, Rukia admits, "That's on me."
If Inoue is startled by that revelation, she hides it over a look that implies she's expecting some kind of apology which again, gets Rangiku to scoff. "No one asked you to press your ear against the wall."
That at least makes Rukia wince. She and Rangiku do share one, Rukia wonders if maybe Rangiku had actually heard anything…Ugh, that would explain why she's being such a pain in the ass. The subtle wink Rangiku sends her way is proof of that, and Rukia couldn't roll her eyes any harder if she tried.
Tatsuki, seeing the exchange, covers another snort with a cough.
"Ah," Inoue stutters, "I didn't mean -"
"No, no," Rukia interjects, shaking her head. "It's fine. I didn't…uh…mean to be so loud."
"Are you going into heat?" Rangiku prods with a wiggle of her brows. "It would explain why you're being so inconsiderate, Rukia-chan. Tis the season, after all. You don't need me and Tatsuki to cuddle you this time around, do you?"
Depending on their schedules, Rukia usually spends her heat being catered to hand and foot by her housemates; Tatsuki, as the alpha of the house, happily goes off to retrieve whatever food Rukia craves and terrorizing students from Rukia's faculty for missed class notes while Rangiku, always touchy-feely, pets Rukia's hair and coos over whatever Disney movie Rukia's wanted to watch on repeat.
When neither of them are free, Rukia goes to the health center.
Now, though.
Now, Rukia has Ichigo.
Over her blush, Rukia huffs. "Maybe not." She hadn't even. Thought about it. Not really. Not just because the dreaded "what are we" discussion was only recently had, but also because she didn't even know how she'd ask.
Rukia could tell that Ichigo was going into rut when they'd met. Would he be able to tell when she'd go into heat?
"Is it serious?" Tatsuki asks with raised brows, and Rukia's so relieved that there's not a tinge of bitterness in her scent leftover from her heartbreak with Inoue. Just curiosity, just surprise. "Tell us everything!" Then, she makes a face. "It's not one of those assholes your mom found, right?"
"God, no," Rukia immediately dismisses. As if.
"Is it…that alpha, you spent his rut with?" Inoue asks, tentatively re-entering the conversation. The information is, thankfully for her, interesting enough that Rangiku doesn't immediately shut her down.
"Y-yeah." And then it occurs that maybe – maybe Rukia should tell them it's Ichigo? There was still the fall out to consider, of course, but there was realistically no right time anyway. Why not now?
Then, with a snap of her fingers, Rukia's window of opportunity closes as understanding dawns in Tatsuki's expression, and she's poking the end of her spatula at Rangiku. "It's that guy she ditched a date for."
Rangiku's brows lift, and then her smile is positively filthy, "And he wasn't even in rut anymore, huh?" She nudges Rukia. "Oooh, look at you getting properly serviced." Then, affecting a poised air, she adds, "As befitting an omega of your fine breeding, as your mother would say."
"Stop it, you're so gross," Rukia complains over the flush of her cheeks.
"Does that mean the great matchmaking has ended?" Tatsuki teases, setting aside their breakfast and placing utensils across the breakfast nook for the three of them. "Or will she need to size your alpha up before she gives her approval and ends the torture?"
Oh god, Rukia hadn't even considered what her mother would do if she didn't approve.
With a sympathetic pat on the back, Rangiku coos, "There, there. Maybe if you expound on the size of his knot -"
As one Tatsuki cackles and Rukia shrieks, effectively drowning out Inoue's embarrassed squeak.
It's a sign of the times that Tatsuki doesn't notice Inoue being cut out – that she doesn't add a fourth plate onto the counter to share breakfast with them – that she doesn't check to see if Inoue is okay when she doesn't try to add anything more to the conversation.
If nothing else, it's an omen of what's to come because when Inoue tries to slip back to her room with a nervous laugh and a half-hearted, "Ah, Rangiku-san!" Tatsuki interjects to ask her, "Orihime, where are you going?"
At that, she pauses, and her smile looks a little brighter to be included again. "Ah – Tatsuki-chan, you know I don't like garlic in my food."
Rangiku's jaw drops in shock, and Rukia squeezes a hand over her housemate's knee to stop her from letting whatever words out which is just as well because something hardens in Tatsuki's expression as she ignores the comment altogether and says, "I need to talk to you."
Rukia doesn't know what her face is doing, but Rangiku's is practically screaming It's happening! "Oh," Inoue says airily, "what about? Maybe later, ne? I'm going to get ready. I think I want sushi for breakfast instead!"
"No, Inoue, now."
Pointedly, both Rukia and Rangiku keep their gazes on their plates in a poor attempt to give them privacy as they shovel their food into their mouths mechanically, ears straining for whatever movement or action is to be made by either of them.
"Ah, Tatsuki-chan, you're doing that thing again," Inoue says, her voice curling disapprovingly. "You know I don't like it when you use that tone."
Is Rukia really just hearing the way Inoue talks to Tatsuki, or has it always been this awful? She's been so resentful of Inoue being the perfect omega Rukia's mother wants her to be that she'd shut Inoue out entirely, not realizing how much Inoue was hurting Tatsuki right under Rukia's nose.
Going by Rangiku's payroll and lack of twitch in her expression, though, apparently, she'd heard enough of Inoue's behavior herself. Knowing Rangiku, she hadn't taken it lying down, but Tatsuki hadn't wanted to hear a word against her.
Rukia grimaces, and ventures a glance up to peek at Tatsuki's face.
The alpha looks frozen, untethered; wide-eyed and pale, before she seems to come back to herself, skin flushing and expression stormy. Not a deterrent for Inoue, evidently, as she continues her trek to her room, making it to her door before Tatsuki spits, "I need you to move out."
Finally, Inoue sounds startled. "Wh-what?"
"I need you to move out," Tatsuki repeats, and though she had to swallow hard to get the words out again, her voice is steady. "I know you have financial issues which is why I'm telling you now. I don't expect you to leave right this second, but it's happening."
"But Tatsuki-chan," she protests.
"No, I…" There's only a moment of hesitation, and Rangiku and Rukia meet her gaze supportively over the counter. Tatsuki steels herself, and says, "It's taken a long time to figure out what's been happening, but I know now, and I won't let you treat me like this anymore. I want you to move out. Preferably soon."
"I didn't," Inoue stutters, "I don't know what you're talking about Tatsuki-chan. Is it the temporary bond? You know I don't feel that way about you and it's not fair that you would…" She stops, takes a shuddering breath, and then she's entreating, "Rukia-chan?"
Rukia flinches as Tatsuki snaps, "Don't bring her into this."
Rangiku gives up all pretenses and turns in her chair to scowl at Inoue and accuse, "You keep your manipulation to yourself; you give omegas a bad name with the way you behave."
"I don't," Inoue stutters again, and then she's pleading, "Rukia-chan, I don't understand what's happening, please you have to -"
Rukia takes a breath; fights through her own instincts that recognize Inoue as the same as Rukia, as someone who needs help, and interjects, "I don't have to do anything. Except maybe help you pack." When she turns around in her stool, Inoue's got tears in her eyes. Rukia clenches her fists. "You've never called me by my first name in all the time we've lived together, and you think, what? Just because we're both omegas that I'll stand up for you? When you've been hurting and using Tatsuki the way you have?"
Inoue gasps, "I would never – I – Tatsuki knows how I feel about Kurosaki-kun. I wouldn't – I'm a good omega, Rukia-chan, I was just." When Rukia remains unmoved, Inoue switches tactics, once again pleading with Tatsuki, "Please, you're my alpha, you can't -"
"You," Tatsuki interrupts slow and calm, "are going to leave. Whether it's at the end of the month, or the end of two. I don't care. But I'm not." It hurts, her words sound scrapped out of her throat, but Tatsuki says them anyway, "I'm not your alpha. I could have been, but you didn't want me. And I let you use me instead because I love you."
Sniffing, Inoue says, "I love you too, Tatsuki-chan."
Rangiku almost stands up at that, but then Tatsuki is sniffing too and shaking her head to say, "No, you don't. But that's okay because I love me enough for the both of us." With a breath, she tries to sound neutral as she advises, "You should start packing at least, making some phone calls about where you can go. But you aren't staying here anymore."
For several long minutes there's nothing but silence and then a sob, followed by the door of Inoue's room slamming closed.
Tatsuki's posture droops like the strings of her have been cut loose, and both Rukia and Rangiku are around her, holding her between them and squeezing like it'll be enough to pull her back together.
Through choked breathes, Tatsuki admits in a whisper, "It still hurts."
"Of course, it does," Rukia says against her shoulder, voice strained with her own tears because omega empathy is a hell of a thing. "This mattered, and Inoue mattered to you. And you had to choose to matter to yourself more instead." Then, rubbing her cheek against Tatsuki's shoulder – a comforting scent mark that Rangiku is echoing against Tatsuki's hair – Rukia adds, "We're so proud of you."
Sounding just as weepy because Rangiku's never met a moment she couldn't fully emotionally invest in, she says, "Inoue might not know what she has, but we do: we love you, don't forget."
That rouses a sound that is both a sob and a laugh before Tatsuki is squeezing them back.
