A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and interest in this story! Just in case it gets a bit confusing, the italicize is the past. I also found this awesome song that matched this perfectly so I posted some of it. Here's chapter two!

Rating and Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Reunion

In the year of my decline
sucking freezies in the rain
driving twisted in the suburbs
and then driving back again
seventeen and half alive
headlights illuminate the school
inhale the powder from the science class, yeah nearly dying felt so cool
your face is all that hasn't changed
you're reassembled just like me
but when I reach to touch your hand
you stroke mine gently

xxxxx

Ichigo Kurosaki, age: fifteen, eyes: brown, hair: orange, occupation: student, was not having a good day.

He woke up at four in the morning to the chaotic sound of a moving truck plowing through the side of his house, leaving an elephant sized hole in their living room. The driver apologized profusely, excusing the accident on a stray cat crossing the road, but promised to come back in the morning with a representative from his company. The Kurosakis spent the rest of the morning salvaging and cleaning what they could, which consequently, left Ichigo sleepy, angry, and late for school.

"Ichigoooo!" Keigo greeted excitedly, slapping the drowsy teenager on the back. "Where have you been? You've missed our first two classes!"

Ichigo shrugged Keigo's hand off his shoulder and continued walking into the classroom. "Yeah," he made his way to his row. "A truck crashed into my house. We had a lot of stuff to go through and—"

He stopped short. Looking down at his desk, he saw that someone else's schoolbag was hanging from the back of the chair and someone else's papers were strewn across the desktop, which could only mean that someone else was sitting in his seat. "Keigo…?"

"Ichigo!" Ichigo looked up to find Mizuiro walking towards him. "Ichigo have you met--?"

"Hey Mizuiro," Ichigo replied, barely looking up to acknowledge him. "Do you know whose stuff—?"

"—the new transfer student from the Shinigami Academy in the next district?"

"—this is?"

"Rukia Kuchiki?"

Ichigo looked up, confused, and came face to face with one of the shortest girls he had ever met.

"Hi!" Her shoulder length black hair bobbed as she greeted sweetly. An annoying kind of sweet, Ichigo thought. "You're Ichigo right?" She had her hand out in that usual gesture of goodwill, but Ichigo just looked at her, still in shock.

He looked into her eyes, which were a shocking violet color, and gave a nod. A tiny flicker of annoyance graced her features for a second before she shoved her hand in his direction again.

Gripping the offered hand, he pumped her arm reluctantly. "Ichigo Kurosaki. Nice to meet you."

"You too," she gushed as they let go. She eyed the two boys beside her flirtatiously, "Mizuiro and Keigo told me so much about you!"

Ichigo shoved his hands in his pockets, slouching. "Is that so?" He looked from one red face to the other. "Did they also tell you that this," he gestured downward, "was my desk?"

He noticed that there was a slight pucker between her eyes brows and her lips pursed just a tiny bit before reverting into another plastic smile. "Oh I'm so sorry Ichigo!" She apologized. "When the teacher put me here I had no idea that—"

"Hang on Ichigo!" Tatsuki said, coming up from behind him and slapping him from the back of the head. "She's new here you idiot! The least you could do is let her sit here!"

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. "What? I wasn't kicking her out!"

"You might as well have said that!" Tatsuki: The Defender of the Girls yelled.

"No. It was a statement of fact: it's my seat."

"It's a crummy seat just let her sit there."

"I never said she couldn't sit here I just—"

"Rukia!" Keigo offered loudly. "You can share my seat with me!" He held his hands abreast dramatically.

They all turned to her to see how she took this. She blushed prettily but shook her head in the resounding negative. "That's very generous of you Keigo, but I don't think that would be appropria—"

"You're such a perv Keigo!" Tatsuki yelled, punching him hard in the shoulder.

"GAH!" He cradled his arm tenderly. "I was trying to be a good host!"

"Stop hitting on her!"

"Well, why don't you stop hitting on me!"

"That's not I meant you—" Mizuiro chuckled as he watched Tatsuki deliver another blow, while Ichigo tuned them out and turned toward this new girl.

Rukia shrugged and turned to his seat, collecting the papers into a neat pile and unzipping her book bag. All good signs pointing that she was movin—then she dropped her bag under the desk and plopped down decidedly.

"Wha—What was that?!"

She looked up at him quizzically. "What was what?"

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You know what! It looked like you were moving! It's MY seat!"

"You were late to class and the teacher just sat me here. Where do you want me to go?"

"I don't care! It's my seat!"

"Jerk." She muttered, turning away from him.

"Tease."

She twisted to face him fully, one of her elbows leaning on the back of the seat and the other on the desk. "Why can't you just be a gentleman and let me sit here for the day?"

"Why can't you be a courteous newcomer and learn the rules?"

"Oh for the love of," Rukia stopped herself. "It's just a seat. Why would it matter anyway?"

He grimaced. "It just does!"

"But why?"

"It's the principle of the thing that's why!"

"You men and your principles! Have you ever thought that that sounds pretty petty?"

"Women don't understand. You guys are too nice and let each other step aside too easily."

"Oh?" she asked, eyebrows raised challengingly. "So we're doormats?"

"No. You just give up too easily."

"We women," she replied, "just choose our battles wisely." She turned back to face the blackboard, "unlike some narrow-minded chauvinists."

Ichigo looked deadpanned. "You think I'm a chauvinist?" Really? Was he really getting into this argument with someone he just met?

She plastered a tight smile on her face and turned to face him again. "From this first impression? Yes," and she righted herself in the seat.

"You're one to talk!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gritted.

"This whole 'fake' persona you're putting on for everyone."

"I'm not being fake," she muttered.

"And why do you use that voice?"

"What voice?"

"That 'sweet' voice."

"It's called being nice."

"It's called being annoying."

She gave him a look so unlike her previous sweet-self that Ichigo couldn't help but thinking that she looked more natural when she glared at him.

"Ichigo?" He turned around to find Orihime standing there.

The new girl looked up too, the sour expression evaporated from her face as if it wasn't even there.

Orihime smiled at both of them. "Oh! You're welcoming Rukia to class! That's so nice of you Ichigo!" She looked to Rukia. "I'm so glad that you two are becoming friends."

Rukia shot another glare in his direction that went unnoticed by Orihime. "Oh yes," she replied with sarcastic enthusiasm. "The best."

xxxxx

She looked the same.

That was what Ichigo noticed first when he watched his old best friend enter the dimly lit ballroom, and despite the moving lights and varying beams of color, he could tell that she was exactly the same Rukia Kuchiki from all those years ago.

He barely moved, let alone breathed, as she stood at the doorway to the ballroom, choosing instead to watch her from this safe distance hidden by the many bodies scattering the dance floor.

She stood on the balls of her heels, her head inclined as her violet eyes roamed over the entire room, moving from face to face as if looking for someone in particular. He didn't dare let himself think that it was him.

"RUKIA!"

The loud holler woke him up, and Ichigo turned to look at Tatsuki, who was cupping one hand around her mouth, shouting, and waving her other arm wildly to get the tiny girl's attention. "Rukia! Over here!"

He looked over to see if Tatsuki did indeed get the girl's attention and felt a mingle of emotions as he saw a spark of recognition cross her features. The worry in her forehead disappeared and a small smile graced her lips as she took a few tentative steps toward their general direction, her black dress swinging with each careful step.

Oh. No.

No. He wasn't ready for this.

Tatsuki continued to stand there and wave as if it were normal behavior, when Ichigo yanked her arm down, hard. "Ah! What the hell Ichigo?" She asked, slapping his hand away.

Ichigo slumped over and looked over his shoulder to see that Rukia was still making her way around the crowded dance floor. "Me? What the hell are you doing?" he whispered fiercely.

Tatsuki adjusted her blouse and fixed her precarious position on the seat before replying. "What? It's only Rukia. You guys used to be best friends back in the day."

"That's exactly it. 'Used to' being the operative words there." He looked up to see her talking to Mizuiro and the group of women from earlier, glad for the obstacle.

Tatsuki glanced back at their topic of conversation. "What do you mean?" She whispered back.

Ichigo groaned. "I did want to see her tonight," he admitted. "I mean that I thought that I wanted to see her, but I wasn't thinking properly. There's a reason why I didn't tell her—"

They heard a girlish squeal nearby and looked up to see a jumping Rukia suffocating Orihime in what could be interpreted as a hug. Uryuu stood by, trying to peal her away from his now delicate wife.

"Well," Tatsuki chuckled. "I guess she knows about that at least."

Ichigo grabbed her wrist to get her attention. "This wasn't a good idea after all."

"Don't be an ass," she advised, standing up as the three of them approached. "She's an old friend. Whatever's bothering you obviously isn't bothering her."

Ichigo stood up too. "I guess…"

"Well you better know," Tatsuki warned under her breath. "Because she's right here."

Ichigo turned to mimic Tatsuki's gaze, preparing himself for the worst as he came to face the undeniable smirk of one Rukia Kuchiki.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," she said haughtily.

He breached a smile. "Rukia Ku—oomph." He now understood why Uryuu looked so concerned before. Rukia's hugs were rib breaking at minimal. He made an attempt to force her off of him, which she ignored completely.

"Idiot," she breathed, taking a step back, a genuine smile gracing her features. "Where have you been?"

Ichigo's brain attempted to churn a genial-yet-teasing response to match her own and was annoyed to find that he was at a loss for words yet again.

"Isn't it great?" Orihime said instead, taking the offered seat for her at the table. "All of us being here at the same time?"

"Oh yes," Rukia agreed, taking the seat Ichigo just vacated. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she looked up at him, scooting the chair towards the table. "The best."

xxxxx

"It was your moving truck that ran into my house?" Ichigo asked in disbelief. He gripped the door knob either for support or to hold back his own anger. He wasn't sure yet.

The short girl on his doorstep nodded a little guiltily. "Yes. I've come to apologize."

He continued to look at her with the same shocked face. "There's no need. The driver said he'd send someone over."

She nodded. "Yeah, but I think that we got on the wrong foot today." She gave him an awkward sort of smirk as she extended her hand. "I'm Rukia Kuchiki."

Ichigo eyed her suspiciously before gripping her hand. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

She beamed. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, yeah you to." He gestured toward the gaping hole in their house. "Now what are you going to do about that?"

She barely looked at it before giving a careless shrug and replying. "My brother will take care of the expenses."

"What do you mean? That's an insane amount of damage there."

She nodded. "Yeah. My brother will take care of it."

His eyes turned toward her suspiciously. "Rukia Kuchiki…Who exactly are you?"

She laughed lightly. "Ichigo Kurosaki, I'm your new classmate."

xxxxx

"I'm telling you Uryuu," Rukia was saying. "You need to just consider it."

Uryuu shook his head as if he were older than his twenty-odd years. "That's really kind of you Rukia, but I'm not interested."

Rukia pursed her lips testily. "I'm serious! When I was in France this January, my friend was about to steal this dress from me!" She pulled the edge of her scoop neck for emphasis.

Uryuu laughed it off good humouredly, his arm unconsciously wrapping around Orihime's shoulders. "I'm sure you could take her."

"It really is a lovely dress Uryuu," Orihime said, kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe Rukia's right…?"

Rukia smiled triumphantly.

"The answer's still no," Uryuu said, arm tightening around his wife. "I'm perfectly happy with directing the hospital."

Rukia harrumphed. "Fine, but if you do change your mind…"

"I'll be sure to call you," he assured her.

"Why—?" Ichigo began, looking from the two with a confused look on his face.

"Rukia's taken it on her shoulders to become a patron of the arts," Uryuu replied before Ichigo could finish. "She apparently believes that I my handicrafts would sell."

"Not apparently," she corrected. "I know."

"Whatever it is," Tatsuki continued, turning toward Ichigo. "Rukia's been scouring the globe for down and out artists who need her to—what was the phrase you used again?" She asked.

"Blossom," Rukia replied, picking up her glass. "There are all these really talented people, and they just need to push—"

"Or threats," Uryuu whispered loudly.

She shot him an evil look. "—to become successful in their position."

"Which is why she's been England the past few months," Tatsuki explained.

"Germany actually," Rukia corrected, taking a sip of her champagne flute.

"Oh," Orihime said, sharing the plate of shrimp with Tatsuki. "I thought that you said you'd be in London for the summer."

Rukia set her glass down. "I did. I mean I was, but I started following this graffiti artist online and saw that most of his work was based in Germany. I packed everything and left after that."

Tatsuki's eyes widened in Ichigo's direction, trying to get his attention, but he ignored it. Feigning indifference, she picked up a prawn from the middle of the table. "Ichigo," She asked, hiding her smirk behind a napkin, "weren't you just in Germany a few months ago?"

He shot daggers at her. "Yeah," he mumbled, then more loudly, "Yeah. Book tours and stuff."

"Really?" Rukia asked, truly interested. "Did you have fun?"

He wagged his head vaguely. "I didn't get to play tourist much," he excused. He cringed at how boring he sounded. "It was a strict business schedule."

The table nodded, not knowing where to carry on after than. Orihime looked at the plate in front of her, Rukia smiled in response, Tatsuki gave a confused look, and Ichigo mentally slapped himself for killing the conversation.

But through the amazing grace that was Chad's band, a new song started up, filling the awkward silence for them.

"Oh! I remember this song!" Orihime swayed in time in her seat. She stood up excitedly. "Uryuu! Let's dance!"

"Orihime," he protested. "You're in a very delicate condition at the mo—"

"No I'm not," she looked herself up and down. "Uryuu, I'm going to have a baby. I didn't eat one!"

"I know that, it's just that—"

"Oh just take her Uryuu," Tatsuki advised. "She won't be able to do much after the first trimester."

Orihime beamed and dragged her reluctant husband away and into the mass of people gathering around the stage as Chad's band began playing.

"Oh," Tatsuki recalled as if just remembering. "I love this song too. I think—"

"Do you want to dance?" Ichigo asked loudly, already on to her obvious ploy.

"No!" Rukia and Ichigo gave her a funny look. "I mean no," Tatsuki went on more calmly. "I'm going to just catch up with the married ones, just in case Uryuu prevents Orihime from doing anything relatively fun. You two stay," she stood up, glancing specifically at Ichigo, "talk." And with that, she allowed herself to be swallowed by the throng of people moving on the dance floor, leaving Ichigo hating her all the more.

xxxxx

Ichigo hated the rain. It always managed to successfully put him in a foul mood for the rest of the day when it rained.

The sun was swallowed up by damn grey clouds, and the pavement and grass flowed and pooled with water.

It reminded him of loss and grief, and Ichigo would rather not focus on those at the moment.

Instead, he looked up to see a lone figure walking a head of him. Heavy rain pounding onto her slumped shoulders as she walked with slow, deliberate steps; her pink raincoat was slick and shiny as more and more water fell; and her hair was plastered to her skull in a tangled mass. But she continued to walk on, sloshing through the puddles despite her soaking loafers and wet black stockings.

It had been weeks since she apologized at his house, and although, they were in the same class, he hardly spoke any words to her since other than the occasional exchange of hellos.

"Idiot," he chided, holding his umbrella over both of their heads as he caught up to her. "Can't your brother at least afford you an umbrella?"

She looked up, surprised to see him, but a look of relief crossed her features. "Ichigo? Where did you come from?"

He gestured with his head behind him, matching her tiny strides. "So why so unprepared Kuchiki?"

She smirked, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I couldn't find mine after the move."

"So…" he faltered.

"So?"

"So," he elaborated. "Why did you move?"

She shrugged. "Byakuya's—my brother's—business moved camp closer to around here, so naturally I followed."

"But why not stay at the Shinigami Academy? It's hard to start all over at a new school."

"Districting lines," she explained. "There would have to be a lot of strings to pull to keep me there. Then forty-five minutes to get there, and forty-five to come back?"

"Yeah, but I would. It's the middle of the semester…"

She looked chagrinned. "I didn't realize that you wanted to get rid of me so soon Ichigo."

"No—I mean—I didn't mean it that way—I just—"

"No, it's okay. It all comes with being part of the family."

"Right." Ichigo mentally slapped himself for killing the conversation. He gripped the umbrella tighter, his mind quickly trying to come up with something else to say.

"But it still would've been nice if he waited until the summer." She added, looking up, catching him off guard. Embarrassment crept up his face traitorously. "What's with the twenty-one questions?" She joked.

"What do you mean? We're friends aren't we?" He smirked. "Or, that's what you told Orihime at least." He challenged.

She turned back to face the sidewalk a head of them. "Friends," she repeated, tasting the word. It looked like she was considering this carefully before looking back up to him. "Yeah. Yeah I guess we are."

"Good." For some odd reason, Ichigo needed that assurance from her, and he felt another smirk grow on his face at the thought of it.

"Good," she repeated, looking a head of them. Stopping, she looked around, "Where are we going anyway?"

He stopped two, still holding the umbrella above them. "What? I was following your lead!"

"Really?" she asked, clearly amused. "I was following yours."

"Do you mean to tell me that we've been walking towards nothing this entire time?"

"No," she corrected. "I mean to tell you that you've been leading me nowhere this entire time."

He harrumphed. "Great. We'll have to go back," he looked around moodily. It wasn't that far off from school, but retracing unnecessary steps didn't appeal to him very much. "And it's raining."

"Why are you complaining? It's not like we're lost or anything."

"I hate the rain," Ichigo murmured, half hoping she didn't hear that.

But with Rukia there was no such luck. She shoved him playfully. "What do you mean?"

"It's just so depressing…" he admitted a little reluctantly. "Everything's grey and wet and…" he faltered, feeling embarrassed.

Rukia nodded, considering his points carefully. "Well, that's true." She eyed the umbrella he was holding, then looked at him, a smile growing as she spoke. "But it does have its benefits." She teased.

It hit Ichigo so quickly he didn't have time to react. He felt very aware of himself at that moment.

From his body language to his facial expression. He felt his face heat up just a tiny bit as he returned a smile back. It was like having water dumped all over him.

or an entire puddle splattered onto your back courtesy of a fast moving car.

Ichigo stopped walking immediately, holding the umbrella stiffly. His face forming into one of shock and displeasure, turning toward Rukia he saw that she was red faced too.

She looked surprised. Her face red and her body trembling slightly as she tried to contain her laughter by covering her mouth with her hands. Ichigo shook his now wet hair out of his face and glared at her.

"And that," she said amidst her guffaws, clutching her gut, "is one of them!"

Ichigo scowled all the more, a little annoyed at this tiny girl who was laughing at him, but he didn't lift the umbrella off of her the entire time.

xxxxx

It was familiar, this feeling of falling.

Ichigo just didn't know what to make of it this time.

"You don't have to stay here." Well that was one solution.

Ichigo looked up to meet Rukia's eyes from across the table. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, forcing a smile.

"You don't have to stay," she repeated in a much louder voice. "It just seemed like you didn't want to be left here with me or something."

"No! No. I just…," he floundered. Speaking to her never was this difficult before, and with the years and lack of communication between them, he would think that he would have paragraphs of stories to share with her, maybe even libraries. But he couldn't.

Looking at the girl sitting across from him, he couldn't manage complete sentence.

That comfortability was gone. The ease with which he could have spoken to her before was gone, and the worst part was they had it before.

She scooted her chair closer towards the table, so she could hear him better. "We haven't seen each other in a forever."

"Not really…" he admitted guiltily. Did she not notice the wall between them? Or the large elephant sitting with them at the table?

"Huh?" she asked, cupping her ear.

"Yeah," he filled in at the same time.

An awkward fission filled the table as he gestured for her to continue and she did the same. They exchanged polite, tight smiles and turned to face the stage and Chad's band. So this was what they were dwindled to? Best friends turned…who the hell knew what they were now.

He stood up, and Rukia turned to him, eyebrows raised.

He walked over to where she sat and leaned down, his mouth mere centimeters from her ear. "Do you want to get out of here? We don't have to stay."

xxxxx

I had six too many drinks last night yes
and that's why I made you stay
plus I always wanted you

all I want is one more chance
to be young and wild and free
all I want is one more chance to show you,
you were right for me

you were right for me
reunion, reunion…reunion, reunion…

-Reunion, Stars

A/N: I'm still working on the balance of the past and present, so if you have any critiques or suggestions please just let me know!