[She's gone. And he can wake up, he thinks, or maybe he can't—controlling sleeping has gotten harder since he lost his dream self, and all that doesn't even apply here—but he doesn't think he should yet. He thinks, maybe, he should learn what she gave him.
So he does. A city he has never visited, in flowers and blossoms, full of people and life. A city made of paper, like a quiet refuge. Two places where he used to sleep.
Creations left behind for him by the dreams of someone full of hope. His hand closes around his chest.
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So he does. A city he has never visited, in flowers and blossoms, full of people and life. A city made of paper, like a quiet refuge. Two places where he used to sleep.
Creations left behind for him by the dreams of someone full of hope. His hand closes around his chest.
Eventually, he wakes.]