A man walks up with his hat in his hands. A woman walks up in a pair of outrageously tall boots. A young boy walks up with a handheld video game. A mother with a crying baby. A man with a mustache like a broom. An elderly couple with matching sweaters. A boy in a blue shirt with not a single crumb from a doughnut.

There are so many ways it could all have turned out differently.

Imagine if it had been someone else, Rukia is thinking, her heart rattling at the idea of it.

But here they are:

A boy walks up with a book in his hands.

A boy walks up with a crooked tie.

A boy walks up and sits down beside her.

There's a star in the sky that refuses to stay put, and Rukia realizes it's actually a plane, that just last night, that star was them.

Neither of them speaks at first. Ichigo sits a few inches away, looking straight ahead as he waits for her to finish crying, and for that alone Rukia is grateful, because it feels like a kind of understanding.

"I think you forgot something," he says eventually, tapping the book in his lap. When she doesn't respond, only wipes her eyes and sniffles, he finally turns to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"I can't believe how many times I've cried today."

"Me, too," he says, and she feels immediately awful, because of course he has more right to cry than anyone.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"Well, it's not like we had no warning," he says with a little smile. "Everyone's always telling you to bring a handkerchief to weddings and funerals."

In spite of herself, Rukia laughs. "I'm pretty sure nobody has ever suggested a handkerchief to me in my life," she says.

They fall silent again, but it's not strained as it was earlier, at the church. A few cars drive up to the hotel entrance, the tires grumbling, the lights sweeping over them so that they're forced to squint.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and he nods.

"I will be."

"Did it go all right?"

"I suppose so," he says. "For a funeral."

"Right," Rukia says, closing her eyes. "Sorry."

He turns toward her, just slightly, his knee brushing up against hers. "I'm sorry, too. All that stuff I said about my father…"

"You were upset."

"I was angry."

"You were sad."

"I was sad," he agrees. "I still am."

"He was your dad."

Ichigo nods again. "Part of me wishes I could've been more like you. That I'd had the nerve to tell him what I thought before it was too late. Maybe then things would have been different. All those years of not talking…" He trails off, shaking his head. "It just seems like such a waste."

"It's not your fault," Rukia says, glancing over at him. It occurs to her that she doesn't even know how he's dad died, though it must have been sudden. "Maybe you both just needed more time to come around."

"It's still there, you know," Ichigo says after a moment. "The night-light. They turned my room into a guestroom after I left for school, and most of my things are up in the attic. But I noticed it there this morning when I dropped off my bags. I bet it doesn't even work anymore."

"I bet it does," she says, and Ichigo smiles.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"This," he says. " Everytime I'm with you, I can breathe."

She smiles. "Me, too."

"I just needed…" he trails off again, glancing over at her. "Is it okay that I'm here?"

"Of course," she says, a bit too quickly. "Especially after I…"

"After you what?"

"Barged into the funeral earlier," she says, wincing a little at the memory. "Not that you didn't already have company."

He frowns at his shoes for a moment before it seems to click. "Oh," he says. "That was just my exgirlfriend. She knew my dad. And she was worried about me. But she was only there as a family friend. Really."

Rukia feels a quick rush of relief. She hadn't realized just how powerfully she'd wished for this to be true until now.

Ichigo grins. "Wait, were you jealous?"

"N-no of course not!" she says looking away, hiding the pink tinge color on her cheeks. "I'm glad she could be there," she tells him truthfully. "I'm glad you had someone."

"Yes, though she didn't leave me with any reading material," he says, thumping a hand against the book.

"Yeah, but she also probably didn't force you to talk to her."

"Or tease me about my research."

"Or show up without an invitation."

"That'd be both of us," he reminds her, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance to the hotel. "Why aren't you inside, anyway?"

Rukia shrugs.

"Claustrophobic?"

"No, actually," she says. "It hasn't been too bad."

"You've been imagining the sky, then?"

She looks at him sideways. "I've been thinking about it all day."

"Me, too," Ichigo says, tipping his head back.

Somehow, almost without even realizing it, they've moved closer together on the steps, so that although they're not quite leaning against each other, it would be difficult to fit anything between them.

There's a scent of rain in the air, and the men smoking cigarettes nearby stub them out and head back inside.

A fly lands on Rukia's knee, but she doesn't move to swat it away. Instead, they both watch it dart around for a moment before it takes off again, so fast they almost miss it.

"I wonder if he got to see the Tower of Tokyo," Ichigo says.

Rukia gives him a blank look.

"Our friend from the flight," he says with a grin. "The stowaway."

"Ah, right. I'm sure he did. He's probably off to check out the nightlife now."

"After a busy day in Tokyo."

"After a long day in Tokyo."

"The longest," Ichigo agrees. "I don't know about you, but the last time I slept was during that stupid rabbit movie."

Rukia laughs. "That's not true. You passed out again later. On my shoulder."

"No way," he says. "Never happened."

"Trust me, it did," she says, bumping her knee against his. "I remember it all."

He smiles. "Then I suppose you also remember me helping you at the airport ? he says. "You're lucky I came to your rescue."

"Right," Hadley says, laughing. "My knight in shining armor."

"At your service."

"Can you believe that was only yesterday?"

Another plane crosses the patch of sky above them, and Rukia leans into Ichigo as they watch, their eyes trained on the bright dots of light. After a moment, he nudges her forward gently so that he can stand up, then offers her a hand.

"Let's dance."

"Here?"

"I was thinking inside, actually." He glances around then nods. "But why not?"

Rukia rises to her feet and smoothes her dress, and then Ichigo positions his hands like a professional ballroom dancer, one on her back and the other in the air. His form is perfect, his face serious, and she steps into his waiting arms with a sheepish grin.

"I have no idea how to dance like this."

"I'll show you," he says, but they still haven't moved an inch. Th ey're just standing there, poised and ready, as if waiting for the music to begin, both of them unable to stop smiling. His hand on her back is like something electric, and being here like this, so suddenly close to him, is enough to make her lightheaded. It's a feeling like falling, like forgetting the words to a song.

"I can't believe you're here," she says, her voice soft. "I can't believe you found me."

"You found me first," he says, and when he leans to kiss her, it's slow and sweet and she knows that this will be the one she always remembers. Because while the other two kisses felt like endings, this one is unquestionably a beginning.

The rain begins to fall as they stand there, a sideways drizzle that settles over them lightly. When she lifts her chin again, Rukia sees a drop land on Ichigo's forehead and then slip down to the end of his nose, and without thinking, she moves her hand from his shoulder to wipe it away.

He smiles and leans in, locking their foreheads. "Thank you for stopping the rain Rukia."

She smiles knowing what he meant. "We should go in," she says, and he nods, taking her hand. They walk inside together, her dress already dotted with specks of rain, the shoulders of his suit a shade darker than before, but they're both smiling like it's some sort of problem they can't shake, like a case of the hiccups.

At the door to the ballroom Rukia pauses, tugging on his hand. "Are you sure you're up for a wedding right now?"

Ichigo looks down at her carefully. "That whole plane ride, you didn't realize my father just died. You know why?"

Rukia isn't sure what to say.

"Because I was with you," he tells her. "I feel better when I'm with you."

"I'm glad," she says, and then she surprises herself by rising onto her tiptoes and kissing his rough cheek.

They can hear the music on the other side of the door, and Rukia takes a deep breath before pushing it open. Most of the tables are empty now, and everyone is out on the dance floor, swaying in time to an old love song. Ichigo once again offers his hand, and he leads her through the maze of tables, weaving past plates of half-eaten cake and sticky champagne glasses and empty coffee cups until they reach the middle of the room.

Rukia glances around, no longer embarrassed to have so many pairs of eyes on her. On the other side of the room, Dad and his wife have slowed almost to a stop, both of them staring.

But when he catches her eye, Dad smiles knowingly, and Rukia can't help beaming back. This time, when Ichigo offers his hand to dance, he pulls her close.

""What happened to those formal techniques of yours?" she says into his shoulder.

She can hear the smile in his voice. "I'm doing my summer research project on different styles of dancing."

"So does that mean we'll be doing the tango next?"

"Only if you're up for it."

"What are you really studying?"

He leans back to look at her. "The statistical probability of love at first sight."

"Very funny," she says. "What is it really?"

"I'm serious."

"I don't believe you."

He laughs, then lower his mouth so that it's close to her ear. "People who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely to fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else."

"You're ridiculous," she says, resting her head on his shoulder. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yes," he says, laughing. "You, actually. About a thousand times today."

"Well, today's almost over," Rukia says, glancing at the gold-trimmed clock on the other side of the room. "Only four more minutes. It's eleven fifty six."

"That means we met twenty-four hours ago."

"Seems like it's been longer."

Ichigo smiles. "Did you know that people who meet at least three different times within a twentyfour hour period are ninety-eight percent more likely to meet again?"

This time she doesn't bother correcting him. Just this once, she'd like to believe that he's right.

THE END.

A/N:

Yes! I'm done! ha! now time to update my own story..!

and if you love this story as much as I did! and if you still dont know about it yet, there is a movie version, the casting is done Hailey Steinfield will be Hadley and Robert Sheehan will be Oliver..:D