(Y/n) was fading.
They lifted their fingers and wiggled them, watching the sunlight warp through the translucent digits.
It was so subtle at first that they did not notice.
First, they had tried to grab the bed frame to balance themselves. Their fingers passed through. Not thinking much of it (and passing it off as their drowsiness), (y/n) tried again.
It was temporary, though. Sometimes parts of them would flicker in and out of existence. They wondered what would happen if their feet became transparent. Would they sink through the floor? An audacious thought.
They vaguely remembered a conversation they held with Dazai from earlier. It felt foreign, underwater, like a memory bleached in time. They also didn't remember what they said, exactly, yet only a throbbing guilt remained. Guilt for what?
They had half a mind to ask Dazai, but the problem was, Dazai was nowhere to be found. Then, their mind really snapped, and they realized something. Something that spiraled into the most probable theory.
Without my memories of the outside world, I am but an NPC here that isn't meant to exist.
They shook their head. Fyodor really was a pain in the ass.
It was surprising how the nurses didn't stop them. Dazai, or someone else (though most likely Dazai) had left a spare set of clothes on the bed, simple and unblemished. After changing, (y/n) crept through the hallways, sparing wary glances at the nurses. They didn't seem to mind. That was odd.
Their hand passed through the exit doors again. Shaking their arms, (y/n) tried again.
Golden sunlight hit their face in a blinding blast.
They were outside.