The gentle beeping of an oscilloscope stirred my mind from sleep. Then came the sound of rain hitting a window, then the sound of hitched breathing, my breathing.
'I'm alive…'
I was slowly coming to my senses. There was a hospital gown covering me, and I could feel something pricking my wrist. It took me longer than it should have to recognize the obvious.
'I failed.'
How does one fail in killing themselves? I was profoundly curious about how I'd managed to fuck up such a simple task. That's when the memories of what happened slowly came back to me. I shivered.
'Stupid legs.'
I'd regained feeling in them, so at least something good came from the attempt. Though, by some miracle, my fever felt even worse than before. I could feel the gown clinging to my back from sweat alone.
Still, my head was clearing up bit by bit. I took a deep breath, then opened my eyes.
The room was dim, with the only light I could see coming from the machines hooked up to me. Even with the dim lighting, I could notice the room wasn't the same as my previous ward.
'Probably a much lower floor.'
They wouldn't have me trying any stunts again.
I wasn't in a hurry to get moving; there were few things worse than suddenly moving about when you've got a fever. But then…
"You're finally awake."
My train of thought was interrupted by a feminine voice. I didn't think it could have been any of the nurses; the voice sounded far too young. So, against my better judgment, I sat up and saw 'her'.
She looked around my age, though a bit on the shorter side. Sitting on another bed, she wasn't wearing a hospital gown; rather, she donned a rather dark militaristic shirt with cargo pants, though the aesthetic was sort of ruined by her pink socks. Her long dark hair framed a look of lazy curiosity in her violet eyes as she studied me.
Most importantly, I recognized her.
'Surely… surely I'm seeing things.'
Before I could do anything though, my body finally caught up with me. I felt something rushing up the back of my throat as a wave of dizziness hit me. Quickly, I shifted my head to the side to puke, but came out empty, forcing me to dry retch until I felt like puking blood.
"You look like shit."
She spoke again, bringing me from my daze. I weakly rubbed off spittle from my chin before replying.
"I feel like shit."
My voice sounded strange and hoarse. I turned to face her again, finding myself stunned again.
'This is surely a joke… right.'
I was staring at a face I'd only seen in fan art. Yes, fan art of my novel. My mind scrambled to comprehend what was happening.
"Is there something on my face? You're kinda staring."
She scratched her cheek in confusion.
I dry swallowed.
'Surely, I'm hallucinating all this. I'm probably bleeding out somewhere on the street and hallucinating.'
Still, I asked,
"You don't happen to be called Maki, do you?"
Her right brow raised in response.
"Yes I do. Why are you asking?"
I let out a shaky laugh, still grasping at straws.
"Like THE Maki, from THE Sato clan, from THE Republic of Bastion."
The look of confusion on her face deepened.
"I'd reckon there aren't any other Sato clans or Republics, so yes."
I let out a dry chuckle at that before I started cursing. I used every expletive I could find from my vocabulary, even creating new ones just to express how massively fucked I was. From the side, I could hear Maki mumbling,
'Ohh… so he's a retard.'
I could almost hear pity at the end there, but I ignored it. There was only one thought on my mind.
'I'm in my novel.'
I didn't know how or why, but by some fucked-up measure of karma, I'd committed suicide and ended up reincarnating in my novel. My novel!
'Karma's a goddamn whore.'
I quickly ran through my previous life in my head. I hadn't done anything worthy of such punishment.
'Apart from that time I nearly killed that guy with a rusty pipe… but he was asking for it!'
Why did it have to be my novel? It could have been a harem power fantasy or a fucking isekai, for God's sake. Why this!?
'Oh shit, shit… SHIT!'
I was fucked, like real fucked. You see, in my infinite wisdom, I'd decided that there were too many power fantasy books these days handing out freebies to the main character like it was nothing. They always had the same vague, meaningless ending too, leaving me feeling like I just had a big ol' nothing burger. So if I was writing a book during my final days, then I sure as hell would be writing the direct opposite of that.
This world actively took things from the main character; hell, his main power was literally sacrifice. Not that it would mean anything, as the world itself was doomed. Characters dropped like flies. Before I killed myself, I wiped out roughly half the main cast in a single fight. Their opponent wasn't even close to the strongest beings here.
All of a sudden, I found myself staring longingly at the window.
'Second time's the charm, right?'
"Are you alright?"
Maki's concerned voice stopped me mid-spiral. I hadn't even noticed that my hands had been clutching my hair.
'Right, I have to calm down.'
It wasn't all bad. I created this world; if there was anyone with even an inkling of a chance at surviving it, it would be me. Of course, the probability of that happening was extremely low and heavily dependent on a lot of circumstances. Still, it was there. Plus, who knew where they'd send me if I killed myself again.
I needed to take stock of my current situation first.
"Earth to stranger, can you hear me?"
Maki was waving at me now. I gave an awkward chuckle before scratching my head.
"Yeah, sorry. Just a little out of it."
There was a look of pity on her face, which reminded me of something, so I quickly added,
"And no, I'm not a retard."
She let out a chuckle at that, which mesmerized me a little.
"If you say so."
Maki stood up, yawning as she did a few stretches.
"Still, it's a good thing you woke up. Classes start tomorrow; I heard it's hell to catch up to even a single missed class."
'Wait… classes? Where am I relative to the plot.'
The plot was mainly centred around the Gifted Academy. If classes were starting tomorrow, then I could either be at the start of the first, second, or third years. If I were in either of the latter, then the most logical choice would be just jumping out of the window right now.
I tried bringing it up casually.
"Yeah, me too. Erm… do you know what the current date is? My memories are all foggy."
She was sitting on her bed now, though her eyes squinted at the question.
"It's the fifteenth of January, 2210."
Ok, so I wouldn't be needing to commit suicide just yet. If the year was 2210, it would mean I was reincarnated just before the start of the plot.
'I can work with this… I ca—Wait…'
I remember writing the first classes they had; almost every main character was present in those chapters, except Maki.
'But she looks fine, and classes start tomorrow. What could have happened between now and then…'
That's when it came to me.
I was in trouble, serious trouble.