I decided to tune in to adultswim at midnight tonight. BAD IDEA. I hope you can relate to these feelings I quickly typed up. I feel better now.
Bleach owned by Tite Kubo.

The crescent moon's rays cascaded, glistening over her stricken face streaked with tears. Tears?

Oh how surreal it all was. I closed my eyes against the peculiar feeling of my body disintegrating, unable to look at her and her moon-soaked gaze any longer.

I could not help but notice the sensation of my fingertips thawing, a slight warmth and I wondered Why? Such cruelty to gift a thing like this at the moment of my demise.

Surreal.

I lifted my bowed head and braved a look from clenched eyes and became still, feeling unfathomable longing. One might describe it as lust. I needed, yearned, desired to hold her.

I never did. I regret this now.

Hesitantly I reached out, my fingers shaped into midnight claws twitching at the impulse to wipe away tears, brush away hair, caress bare shoulders. Monstrous I thought, suddenly sickened at the sight of talons instead of a hand. I cursed myself silently as I brought my arm back down beside me and I looked away once more.

I quickly gave her another look and attempted to convey all, doubtful that I did a sufficient job. But I saw my feelings reflected back to me in her own amber eyes. Desperation, need, sorrow, pain.

"Woman," I said, the single word rebounding off of nothingness. She stared intently back and I admired her tears as they welled and silently departed. "Are you afraid?"

I could not hear her. I watched as her full lips moved over an answer but her words were lost. Somehow I understood, venturing another reach to her. Please, I thought, unable to recall a time in my existence where I have pled. And she reached back, stretching out to me.

Never have I felt like this.

"I see."

My arm decomposed into the ash I truly was, the warmth somehow not leaving me despite.

I came to realize that she was crying for me, I knew. In one final fleeting moment I acknowledged the fact that just now, I had been crying for her.

That moment's warmth a pulse, a fleeting heartbeat.

And I was what one may describe as "ever so happy".