The Gamer: Resurrected (Abandoned)

Chapter 1: Resurrected in... Bleach?

A/N 

This is a rewrite of my first fanfiction. This rewrite will be slightly different, but hopefully 100 times better than the old version (lots of spelling and grammatical errors). Reviews and comments on grammatical errors or suggestions are appreciated.

This fanfic is inspired by other fanfictions on 'The Gamer' and 'Bleach'.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach nor The Gamer, it belongs to Tite Kubo and Sung San Young. I only own my OC.

Hope you enjoy.

(･ω<)☆

   '...' = thought

   "..." = speech

   [...] = ability/skill/quest

Chapter 1: Resurrected in... Bleach?

'This is something I've heard from many game loving netizens...

Wouldn't it be great if life was a game?

How good would it be....

If there were levels above people's heads?

And be able to gain experience and raise your stats the way you want?

If someone asked me if this is honestly okay with me,

I would simply answer...

Yes, it is...'

My name is Fujisaki Mera...

Well, my name 'was' Fujisaki Mera up until I died from falling off the stairs... from a banana peel because some idiot couldn't be bothered to properly throw it into the trash bin that was literally a meter away from the stairs! Although, I could be considered an idiot as well for actually tripping on it. 

BUT! I was carrying my precious Haikyuu!! manga books that was signed by Haruichi Furudate-sama. It was nearly as invaluable as my Bleach collection. The mangaka, Tite Kubo-sama signed a few of volumes I had. It was also the first anime I had ever watched and where my love for anime originated.

I was so focused on keeping my baby safe that I hadn't even noticed the deadly trap in front of me... 

Watching my body just motionlessly lie on the ground as I could hear the ambulance sirens bleep in the background. Some of the passersby fainted, while others just stood in shock. Only one person had actually done something useful and called the ambulance. What a useless and dysfunctional society we live in.

I am thankful that my invaluable manga books were not too damaged, just some bent pages. 

My hands were transparent, yet oddly light. A weird sensation that could be best described as floating on a cloud? It also kind of feels like i'm swimming, but on air.

My physical, dead body was pale with blood flowing freely from the head, slowly extending into a pool of blood. Even if I were to survive this fall, the head trauma alone would've kept me in a coma or killed all my brain cells. Just thinking of worst case scenarios made me depressed. There was never going to be a better outcome for a shut-in like me. 

I hope someone takes care my manga collections when I go to heaven... or hell... 

And... mother... i'm sorry I was a disappointment to you and all the effort you did to take care of me... only to die from a stupid reason. I didn't even get to die from the infamous Truck-kun, or do something heroic before my death.

Anyways... i'm already dead. Hope Shinigami-sama won't make it too painful for me to move on.

Sigh