-23-
"Rukia, dear, you've barely touched your tea," her mother tuts.
She's a diminutive woman, her mother, and that's coming from Rukia, but the weight of her disappointment is heavy, and Rukia swallows down the contents of her teacup and tastes nothing but ash in her mouth.
Her mother always wants to see her after her heat.
It's as close to a regular meeting between the two of them as anything is since Rukia moved out of the family home after her first year in college. It's not a bad trade-off, in hindsight, but this time? Not so much.
"How was your heat this month, dear?"
"Good," she manages, most of it was good. All of it, really. If she's being technical. Afterward was the problem. But her mother isn't asking about after, is she?
Her mother hums, then with a flick of her brow over her teacup, she asks, "So, Kurosaki Ichigo."
Rukia makes an acknowledging noise.
"I didn't actually meet him, but I assume it's his scent I'm getting from you?" she continues to prod, much too used to having to pry information out of her only daughter. Or really, everyone in her family. Rukia's father could get away with about five words in an entire visit when he deigns to make an appearance in any capacity. And Rukia is convinced that Byakuya-niisama doesn't talk, period. Which works out great because Renji – and Hisana, when she'd still been alive – never shut up.
Rukia isn't much different, and fortunately for her, her mother likes the sound of her own voice, "I was shocked when a Shiba representative called me to arrange to meet you on behalf of Ichigo."
Her brow twitches a bit in surprise because – a branch of the famous Shiba family or not –Ichigo doesn't seem like the type to know the protocols attributed to the elite her mother is so enamored by.
"But if he's the same young man you experienced a rut with earlier this year, then I'm surprised he even made the effort," her mother tsks, even though Rukia knows she's tickled pink at the ceremony of it all, the romance of it.
"You must like him," she adds, and beneath the table, Rukia's fist tightens on her knee. Because. She does but.
After spending her heat with him, after Inoue had come; Ichigo had given her space. Something she asked for, something she's struggling not to regret.
It had been hard to lie on opposite ends of the bed, not touching as they had been for the duration of her heat. It felt like a rejection. And in a way, it was.
Ichigo had been quiet. Quieter than she's used to.
There hadn't been much talking once he'd dismissed Inoue, after all. But he'd been a gentleman. He hadn't made any advances and hadn't talked about anything of consequence since, though Rukia's seen him open his mouth as if to try.
He'd left a few hours later – only to get them breakfast – and then, after eating, he'd taken her back to her apartment because of her appointment with her mother that had to be made. It's the least Rukia can do, her mother's lonelier than Rukia wants to think about.
Thankfully, by the time Rukia got back to the apartment, Rangiku was still asleep, and Tatsuki had apparently gone for a run if the note she left on the fridge was to be believed.
Inoue, as another saving grace, hadn't managed to wrangle herself back into their home while Rukia was away.
Rukia would take it.
It's only been a few hours since she'd been apart from Ichigo. The time would be less if she'd gone from Ichigo's to the tea house her mother likes, but.
She'd told him they needed space from each other because biology was biology, and while the response of hormones tended to be reliable to a point, it didn't translate to long term feelings.
Still, Rukia doesn't like the silence or the distance between them, nor the squirmy feeling in her chest where her heart is. Like the organ's grown a limb and is reaching out for something that isn't there so it's taken to tugging at her ribcage because it doesn't know when to quit.
"Are you going to see him after this?" Her mother prods, a tinge of a giggle in her voice.
"No."
At that, she frowns. "Did you not like him?"
"I did," and without thinking, Rukia adds, "That's why."
She splutters, "But-but that's exactly why you should be together right now! Oh, dear, I didn't interrupt your plans of being with him today, did I? I would've understood, you know! I'm familiar enough with how courting works!"
"Temporary bonds don't necessitate permanence," Rukia reminds – even though people certainly thought that was how it worked. That's how all the romance novels tell it, anyway, and the official literature isn't much better.
The science isn't solid. There are too many factors to consider that can't be quantified.
But pushing a temporary bond until it becomes permanent through prolonged contact is a common enough practice.
It doesn't make the feelings of either people any less true, though.
"If you think feelings are permanent, dear, I have a flying horse to sell you," her mother tuts. "Feelings are the most temporary things of all. I should know." She sips her tea, wets her lips, and sighs. "I thought my life was over when my parents arranged for me to marry your father, you know." Rukia is startled, but her mother remains unruffled. "I alternated between angry and sad long after we got married, and I thought that would be my life from then on. But it wasn't."
At Rukia's look, her mother chuckles. "We didn't fall in love, your father and I. But we understood each other well enough, after a time. We didn't want to hurt one another and we didn't want each other to be unhappy. In a way, I suppose, it is love, fundamentally." With a fond smile, she adds, "Why do you think he indulges my whims? Why do you think I don't drag him about?"
Rukia has no answer, her cheeks flush with embarrassment at all the assumptions she's made of her parents.
Her mother seems to understand, tilting her head with a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Our relationship is not conventional, though considering how it began, one couldn't expect it to be. Our feelings from the beginning to now have changed, but that's not always a bad thing."
"If you hated having your marriage arranged," Rukia finally asks, "why did you try to arrange it for me?"
She tsks. "I was worried." Then, "I thought after what happened with Hisana-san passing away, how heartbroken your niichan was, that you wouldn't try and risk it yourself. I thought you needed a little…push. Don't look at me like that – your father and I weren't actually going to make you marry any of them! I was quite serious about this being a networking endeavour, you know."
Shaking her head, Rukia reminds, "Byakuya-niisama is happy though." At her mother's pinched expression, Rukia tries not to lose her temper as she says, "You may not like what his happiness looks like, but he has it. That should be enough for you, shouldn't it?"
With a begrudging sigh, she mutters, "I suppose."
Then, after a long while of just sipping their tea, her mother ventures, "Are feelings really the only reason you're planning to avoid Ichigo?"
Rukia opens and closes her mouth wordlessly, avoids her gaze for a time until she accidentally catches the pitying look in her mother's eye, and finds that she can't look away when her mother asks softly, "Oh, dear, are you scared?"
Her expression crumples and falls for a moment before her mask reforms and she admits in whisper, "I'm terrified."
"Oh," her mother coos. Then, "Does he make you smile, laugh? Does he care about you?"
When she nods, her mother reaches over to squeeze her hand. "Then, what are you afraid of?"
Rukia thinks of the pain Inoue had put Tatsuki through, of Ichigo's mother passing away and his father struggling, of Byakuya-nissama losing Hisana. The answer is easy, "That it'll hurt."
"It might," her mother admits. "But that hurt won't last. Nothing's ever meant to. But if the only thing holding you back is the pain that will come somewhere in the future, is it really worth wasting precious time agonizing over it now?"
"His parents were true mates," Rukia finally says and at that, the surprise and shock are so immediate on her mother's face that Rukia laughs, "Yeah." Then, "I just…he had that as his base for companionship, and I'm not…we're not…"
"True mates?" Her mother guesses.
Rukia nods. "What if…what if he wonders what would've happened if he didn't choose me? If he waited? What if he does have a true mate out there, and he settled for me?"
"Rukia," her mother says, soft but firm. "There is nothing to settle for when it comes to you. You are brilliant and funny and bright and beautiful and -"
"You're my mom," Rukia reminds, cheeks warm, "you're supposed to say that."
"Well, I do get some of the credit," she declares with a sniff, so snobby all of a sudden that Rukia laughs. Her mother smiles and pats her hand again. "Has he ever made you feel like he was settling? Has he…said that you should do certain things a certain way? Dress, or eat, or speak or…does he criticize you? Does he say careless things that make you feel small?"
She considers, even though she knows the answer anyway, "No, no, he doesn't."
"Then, I think, dear, that you're just letting your insecurities get in the way." Her mother shakes her head. "If he's never given you any indication that he wants a true mate, why would you think he does?"
She shrugs, helpless. "Doesn't everyone?"
"That is the fairytale," her mother admits, but adds, with a shake of her head. "You should let him make his own choices, and you should make your own – not based on your insecurities or assumptions on what he wants, but on what you want. Not everyone has that opportunity, dear, use it. Perhaps time apart is good after all." With a wink she adds, "You do know best."
Rukia doesn't think she does, but. It feels good to have someone think so.
"I was thinking," she begins, phone pressed to her ear and already pacing her room.
"Uh oh," Ichigo returns, though Rukia thinks she can hear the way his mouth has upturned around the corners because hers is doing the same. With an internal huff at her own ridiculousness, Rukia shushes him and continues, "I was thinking that maybe we should do this long distance."
"Long-distance?"
"Calls, text messages, email – that sort of thing."
"Really?" he sounds a little bewildered, but he isn't shooting down the idea. And he had said he would do what it took, didn't he?
"I thought you'd like to confirm that I don't just like you for your body," she teases, and that makes him snort. "Besides, with everything going on, I've been putting off my studies and I need to catch up without your everything distracting me," which isn't a lie. It's a damn miracle she's been able to keep her head and pay attention in class with everything going on not just with Ichigo in the mix, but at home with Inoue and Tatsuki, and her mother's string of suitors.
"Yeah, I get that," Ichigo says. Then, hesitantly, "This isn't…you trying to ghost me though, is it?"
"If I was going to ghost you, I wouldn't have told you in advance, now would I?" Self-deprecatingly, she adds, "Besides, you know I'm perfectly capable of freezing you out with no warning, and I figured if we're going to do this, I should do better in telling you things. You know, communication is healthy in a relationship."
At that, there's a pause, but he sounds relieved, "Okay." Then, "And that…thing that happened, that thing you heard last night."
The elephant in the room; the eavesdropped on almost-confession. She catches her reflection in the mirror, sees the bright pink of her ears and across her cheeks, and admits, "I can't say it back yet, but. It's there. It is." Then, with a fortifying sigh that still sounds a little shaky, Rukia says, "We're reading the same book, you're just a little bit more ahead than I am."
His exhale is gusty, and then there's a hint of a smirk in his voice, "Makes sense considering you're behind on homework."
Feigning offense, her smile hurting her cheeks, Rukia gives a cursory protest, "Hey!"
A/n: We are almost to the end~ Though I still have to write it so maybe I shouldn't celebrate so soon lol
