A/N: A one-shot, written in Ichigo's perspective. In this fic, he had been asked a question as to which girl he would choose. No pairings. I will apologize if I've written Orihime as really OOC since I'm not very good at writing her personality.
Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach, Ichigo would have made his 'choice' ages ago.
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Kuchiki Rukia.
A contradiction unto herself. At times, loud and outspoken. Other times, quiet and solemn. But always, always dignified and impossibly stubborn.
Eye-catching. She stood out in a crowd, with her ebony locks, alabaster skin, and vivid cobalt eyes.
She frustrated him. While she could always, always read him like an open book, he on the other hand, it seemed had only assumed he knew her just as well. Now, he had doubts in his claim to understand her because with his own eyes, he has seen her change. She slips into and out of her many masks as easily as a fish into water. Like a skilled performer. There is only one difference. He cannot tell which one of the many guises she truly is. He used to think he knew. Now, he can conclude that he needs to rethink his opinions.
He and Rukia coexisted like fire and water. She matched him blow for blow, volleyed his insults right back at him with the skill and precision of a pro tennis player. Even for all of that, they could achieve a balance. She was more rude than any woman had a right to be, a midget, and kicked his ass far more often than not when he ever so much as mentioned/hinted at either of the former two.
In his presence, she was angry more often than not, and she had always returned to bash the sense back into him although he sometimes wondered why she even bothered.
She was fiercely loyal, incredibly stubborn, and exceedingly good at aggravating him.
He constantly had to remind himself of her actual age, because like hell she acted like it.
He knew she had not led an easy life (or more accurately, afterlife), and she hid her scars behind layers and layers of an elaborate façade that must have taken centuries to create for all its detail and finesse. For her to hide them so painstakingly, even from him, he suspected that her scars may have been even deeper than his own.
Then again, it was probably only fair for he did the same. They hid secrets from one another. Secrets that others knew, but neither of them did. Nonetheless, they had a trust.
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Inoue Orihime.
She had been a friend of a friend. The bubbly, care-free girl whom with he shared a common class. He'd assumed her as an ordinary high school girl. Shallow, vain, uninterested in anything beyond looks, boys, and grades. She'd proven his assumptions wrong rather spectacularly.
An incident had uncovered her dark past.
He might have called it fate.
He would never have had been able to guess at that which lay behind her cheerful exterior. He almost envied her, for being able to hide it so well.
He wondered if he had the right to say that he felt a connection to her through the similarities of their respective pasts.
He hid his own tragic past by becoming outwardly strong. He had allowed that one incident to change himself. She hadn't. This proved her strong, and he discreetly admired her for it.
Yet even more surprises came. Gentle, kind, Inoue Orihime had been far more observant than he had given her credit for.
She blended in with the crowd, with her long auburn locks, ash-grey eyes and tall, curvy figure. The girl who daydreamed in class, was crushed on by the majority of their school's male population (and he suspected even a part of the female sector), a surprisingly brainy airhead, someone who would not hesitate to give her life for her friends, the kindest person he knew.
She would cry for a complete stranger. Offer help to just anybody. Always remaining cheerful so that no one would have to worry about her. She was more than he'd thought her to be by a phenomenal amount.
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With Rukia, he could be as direct and blunt as he was to any other. Heck, she deserved it.
But with Orihime, he was rather at a loss. He had never been good with girls since the beginning, much less girly girls. She was practically a different species. To his teenage mind, she was a mystery.
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Both had an inner light within them.
Orihime had a soft glow, belying her kind nature. She would have forgiven anyone for any sin. The limits of her compassion were outstanding. She always attempted to understand.
Rukia shone like the stars. With a bright, intense, glacial light. An impossibly cold brilliance. He knew that she was weaker than the people around her thought her to be, and yet so much stronger than what she thought herself to be.
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He cared for both in different ways. Both were among his nakama. It astounded him, the level of thought he had gone to over just one innocently phrased question.
"Ne ne, Kurosaki-kun. If you had to choose between me and Kuchiki-san to save, which would you choose?"
He'd given the generic reply that he would rescue both.
But still.
He thought.
Which would he choose?
He'd scoffed at himself for dwelling so long on a mere question.
Still.
He could not stop himself from wondering.
Hope you liked it. Fine if you didn't.
Please review, I'd like to know how you think I did on this one.