I, a meager high school student, have recently died. The cause of death would be grabbing a suicide bomber and jumping into a fountain, diminishing the explosion and ending my own life in the process.

Oh, but I didn’t die right away. My chest was ripped into pieces, my own bones crushed from the explosion, body sent flying and hitting the ground with a painful thud. I lay in agony unable to move, my spinal column most likely broken, as I slowly died.

My ears stopped working, and my neck was twisted in an odd direction. Truly a painful death for a skinny otaku… Speaking of which my name was Jexal, Jexal Quart. At the time of death I was 17, had dark brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and was somewhat skinny for my age.

My family had long since given up on me and I lived alone in a small apartment. I made a living off the donations I got from a personal blog and making virtual models for games.

As such I rarely left my house, if I needed an electronic device I would usually just purchase it online, and I perfectly happy with living my life out in such an apartment, absorbing completely unhealthy amounts of light novels and science documentaries. Now why was I, a person who basicly never left their house, outside where a terrorist attack took place?

There are about only two reasons I would leave my cozy kingdom.

The first was to buy food. Contrary to my skinny body I ate rather gluttonously, and it wasn’t that healthy either. I can proudly claim to have eaten a package of 20 hotdogs in 2 days.

The second was to go on the swingset that existed about 2 blocks down from me. Why? Because I like swings. They are very blissful, and with a simple motion of my legs I can move with high velocity in an ever changing view.

This time it was the former, and as I was about to cross the area to the store I frequent a crazed person who had probably been doing lots of drugs ripped off his sweatshirt and rapidly started pulling pins off grenades strapped to his body with duct tape.

Now usually, a sane person would just run away.

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Let me give you a layout of the general area. In the center there is a huge fountain filled with glistening water. Around it there are three other fountains. There are two roads leading out at an angle, and the surroundings buildings are a supermarket, therapist, and the high school I dropped out of. (Each of the other 3 fountains is placed in front of one of these buildings.

Now let me tell you something before hand. I have no attachment to the high school, I hated the slow pace of the classes and found the vast majority of my classmates to be rather dull. I didn't have any friends, but only a few people I would talk to pass time. Which in truth I was grateful for them helping me pass the time. I also don’t have a strict set of morals, and didn’t particularly care if most of the people in the school suddenly dropped dead.

However there was something I was rather attached to in that school. And that would be the bench that was placed slightly off to the side but close to the fountain. It was neatly placed in the shade of a tree. That was the place I would go whenever I wanted to write stories or model things on my computer.

And that bastard was standing close enough to destroy it. So I, without much of a thought, ran over to him, picked him up as he was too heavy to throw, and jumped into the fountain to protect my favorite bench.

By the way, if this makes me look bad, there was a quiet lesbian couple on the bench that were just staring dumbly at the suicidal manic.

So I did save someone. But I think the bench was more important.

In my final moments of agony I found solace that a person like me might find comfort in that bench some time after my death.

I felt like sighing, having that much pain really is a pain. And with my final shattered breath my soul left that world.

Now, according to those great novels where people are summoned by gods for their great valor you would think that for doing minimal harm to people, leaving people alone and in the end saving a bench and a lesbian couple, would at least give me some remuneration.

Well for one, I didn’t see any god. No person told me their divine will. And frankly if such a person that organized this event did exist, I would like to punch them in the crotch, face if female. I mean seriously! I would be fine with being reborn as a slightly weakened human, maybe a cat even. Heck if it was a spider or snake I would be better off.

But nope. Here I am, in the next life, swaying in the gentle breeze.

For I, Jexal Quart, have been reincarnated as a blade of grass.

And I don’t even know where I am.