Arisawa Tatsuki glanced at herself in the mirror on the way to fetch herself a glass of water; her face was glistening with sweat. Not surprising, since she'd jogged all the way home from the dojo. She ran the tap until the water coming out was icy cold, then drank a glass-ful of it in one long gulp. She refilled the glass, then walked back to the mirror with it.

Under the mirror stood a chest-of-drawers, on top of which a hair-brush and a single tube of lipstick competed for space with schoolbooks and stationary. Inoue had given her the lip gloss as a present, naturally - Tatsuki would never buy something like that on her own. A photo of the two girls stood half-hidden, and her gaze dropped down to that as she put her drink down on top of a work-sheet (the ink on the paper ran, but she didn't notice).

The only other photo was of Kurosaki Ichigo, and the image normally made her laugh: he'd been caught by surprise by the camera, and it showed in his expression. His back had been to her, and she'd called to him. He'd been moody all that day, and her mischievous voice had provoked a scowl and a raised eyebrow from him. The Ichigo preserved in that picture was half-petulant and half-indignant, and she'd originally kept it just to annoy him.

Thoughts of Ichigo didn't help her present mood, though. Ever since Chad, Ichigo, Inoue and that Ishida boy had disappeared off, she'd been more and more aware of how her oldest friend and her best friend had changed.

Changed, my arse. Tatsuki wasn't going to lie to herself. Change wasn't the problem, it was the secrets they were keeping from her that were making her so bad tempered.

She put down her glass of water, too fast. She could cope with changes in behaviour and there being tensions between people she knew that she couldn't understand, but there were people getting hurt. And it seemed like her two best friends had a perfect understanding of why. There were new students that Ichigo had already met, there were people that scared him, even. People that didn't fit in. People attacking the people she cared for.

Tatsuki was used to being strong, used to being competent. She guided Orihime through school and advised her on relationships, she'd watched and helped along Ichigo's transition from runty crybaby to scary scowly punkish guy (with a heart of gold).

“I've had enough of this,” she told her reflection, looking up at it. Her reflection was scowling, eyebrows lowered and jaw clenched, hair spiky and messy. Her angry eyebrows made her think of Ichigo; the way they screwed up in anger mirrored his habitual expression. Her eyebrows were masculine because they'd never been plucked, and she had the sudden urge to reshape them.

She really fucking didn't want to look like Ichigo right now. She finished the glass of water and headed to the shower, discarding her karate uniform to the floor.

If she was honest, it also bothered her that they were all getting closer to each other and she was getting left behind. The selfishness of this emotion wasn't lost on her, but she could tell that there was something vitally important happening, and her friends understood it. It was like they were all growing up and growing apart, like the actions she and they took now would separate them for all their respective futures. She had the feeling she was out of the loop, and she'd never ever be able to reconnect and join her old friends as an equal, as a trusted confidante.

She couldn't deny it, she really didn't want to leave Inoue's life. Ichigo was self-sufficient, now, and she knew he'd never be as close to her again as he had been once. Orihime Inoue, though... Inoue was a huge part of her life. Inoue was the only friend – the only person, if she was feeling brutally honest – who she'd ever really, genuinely cared for more than she did for herself. She'd protected Inoue from bullying girls, she'd listened to her most personal thoughts and followed her randomly wandering mind across the most bizzare places it could go. She'd been a mother and a sister to Inoue, and she didn't want to lose either of those roles.

She loved Inoue, who was an honestly good person, who was beautiful and modest and gentle and kind. Inoue's influence had let Tatsuki grow up past what she had been (a tomboy who hated the world because of her private insecurity, if you want to know; Tatsuki would never admit this to anyone except her Inoue) and she'd helped turn Tatsuki into someone who was at ease with herself and her identity.

Tatsuki had become a better person because of Orihime Inoue. But even as a better person, Tatsuki wasn't generous enough to want to let Inoue go.