When I finally died, it wasn't anything dramatic. No getting hit by a moving vehicle, no heroic sacrifice for someone else, no wasting away from a disease. I just closed my eyes at the ripe old age of 26, and my heart stopped beating. Of course, I only knew this because when I next woke up, there was a chain in my chest and I was floating above my bed. Naturally, I then proceeded to calmly take everything in-NOT.
I just started screaming my lungs out before collapsing in a dead (literally) faint. When I next woke, I was lying on top of a mirror like pool of water. Looking up, a moon shone above me along with dozens of glistening stars, but everything else was covered by mist.
Slowly, I stood up, and then had another mini panic attack over the fact that I was standing on top of the freaking water. Okay me, I told myself. This is obviously just a dream. You are going to wake up and hug your cat, and then binge anime for a couple hours. Plan? Plan.
I then looked at myself, expecting to see, well, me. What I did not expect was an elaborate kimono and white hair going past my waist.
(Like this but with white hair)
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Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Calm down.
It's fine.
You're safe.
You're-
"Hello?"
And as I turned around and saw a brown haired boy with glasses, I immediately passed out a second time. But, could you blame me? I mean, would you expect to see a young Aizen behind you? I don't think so.
