I always thought I'd die wearing a Bleach cosplay.
Not like this, though.
One moment I was standing in front of a mirror at an anime convention hotel, admiring how damn good my Gin Ichimaru outfit looked. White haori draped just right, silver wig styled to perfection, eyes narrowed into that signature smug little sliver. I even practiced the voice.
"Well, well… Looks like ya let yer guard down, Captain."
I nailed it. The girl I was flirting with at the Bleach meetup gave me a thumbs up. Life was good.
And then.
Truck-kun.
I swear to whatever god runs the reincarnation department — one second I was posing for a selfie, the next, my vision went white. No pain, no blood, just a brief flash of something cold and weightless.
Then darkness.
Then…
a voice.
"Do you regret it?"
Regret what? Cosplaying? Spending my rent money on an authentic Shinso replica? Not getting that girl's number? A million thoughts flashed through my head, none of them noble or heroic.
But before I could answer, I felt something strange. A pull, like someone yanking my soul through a paper-thin membrane. And then… light again.
Except it wasn't a hotel room, or a convention, or even my world.
It was a sky so blue it hurt to look at. Ancient walls of stone. Towering sakura trees. The sound of distant wind chimes.
And I felt… different.
Light. Taller.
The weight of a blade on my hip.
I looked down, expecting a cosplay prop.
Nope. Real. Cold. Heavy.
Then I caught my reflection in a nearby pond.
Silver hair.
Narrowed eyes.
Fox-like smile.
Ichimaru Gin.
I… was Gin.
I AM ICHIMARU GIN.
And I did what any normal, well-adjusted anime fan would do in this situation.
I screamed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—oh crap."
Someone was coming. I spun around, trying to get my bearings. The uniform on my shoulders wasn't just any Shinigami robes — it was a Lieutenant's badge.
Holy crap. This is way too early.
I dug through the scattered fragments of my memory. This wasn't canon timeline Gin. No — this was decades before the Bleach story kicked off. The timeline where Gin's still young, dangerously talented, and right on the cusp of becoming Third Division Captain.
Which meant Aizen was still lurking somewhere, charming and evil as hell.
And Rangiku…
I felt my stomach flip. I might be Gin now, but my inner fanboy was losing it. I was about to meet Rangiku Matsumoto. The girl Gin risked everything for.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through my chest.
I staggered.
"What the—"
A voice echoed in my mind.
"You… are not entirely him."
Another wave of light, and suddenly — a second Zanpakuto appeared, materializing in my other hand. Black as night, a slender blade that looked like Shinso's ominous twin.
The name burned itself into my brain.
Yamikiri.
A second Zanpakuto. A Bleach fan's dream.
And with it came knowledge. Flickers of what it could do. Void flickers. Shadow snares. Reiatsu-consuming whispers. It was like someone had cherry-picked every ninja power and assassin move from my favorite games and crammed it into a sword.
The best part?
It looked like Shinso's sheath.
I couldn't help but grin.
"Well… guess I'll be surviving this world my way."
The doors to the courtyard slid open, and a tall, elegant figure stepped out. I didn't need to guess. That aura of calm menace, the glasses gleaming in the sunlight.
Aizen Sousuke.
And he was smiling at me.
"Gin. Ready for your Captain's test?"
My heart stopped.
I was way in over my head.
But somewhere deep down, a spark of excitement flared.
I raised both blades, slipped into that sly grin.
"Always am, Captain Aizen."
This was gonna be insane.
And maybe — just maybe — I'd rewrite this tragic story my way.