I knew I was going to die, and I wasn't particularly afraid. I had always known I was going to die eventually. It was a little inconvenient though, I would have liked to see where Ichigo went, and how he fought. I wanted to feel the heart, the hope, of another person though. So I reached out to her. She had always seemed so bright to me, quite literally, like she was full of light. But she had never seemed as bright as she did that moment. Yet somehow, I knew that it was because she was sad for me. So I reached out my hand.

I had touched her before, but on those occasions the intention was different. I had touched her intending to verify that despite the way she shone, she was still a human, flesh and blood, and that she could still be killed. But this time, I reached out my hand intending to touch that brightness. That beautiful shine that would dim but had never gone out. Would never go out. Perhaps that's why it happened.

The tips of her finger touched mine for just an instant, the tiniest imaginable, before I began to crumble away. It wasn't much, but I still felt it. Her hope. It was a tangible thing, a warmth that spread throughout my body, faster than the death. And it came to me - while my body was lit up with the hope, true hope, that I had never once before felt - that I loved her.

Not a fierce love or a dangerous love, but an inherent caring love. The love that must come upon anyone who has spent a significant amount of time with her. I wished for her happiness and safety, even above mine. I was filled with the hope, yet I was still glad I was dying. She would be safe with this boy. This boy who's eyes also shone with sadness at my death, at my disappearance.

And so I crumbled into death, full of the hope of life.