Bailonz Street 13

It was a potion with no explanation of the ingredients used. The label had only one sentence written on it:

[For deep wounds.]

Ignoring the fear slowly creeping up in my mind, I carefully poured a tiny amount of the potion onto Liam’s tattered skin. About 1 teaspoon, perhaps?

The viscous green liquid dropped onto his skin and began to seep in, emitting a faint light.

‘Why is it glowing?’

The green color and the light made me genuinely anxious. I even had the crazy thought that it might be radioactive.

The wound’s recovery was slow. It seemed to be healing, but then again, maybe not…

Was the dosage insufficient? Still, since the bleeding had stopped, I didn’t risk the adventure of pouring more of the unknown medicine.

I’m exhausted. It was a pitiful sight. Dylan’s body was as blood-soaked as Liam’s. I staggered up, lit the fireplace, and came back.

I felt a bit sorry for Liam, lying on the bare floor. Fortunately, the weather wasn’t too cold. I collapsed next to him. Honestly, I don’t have the strength to sit up anymore. My vision is blurring. I felt like a giant mosquito had stuck a straw in me and was sucking out my blood.

‘Ah, I need to bandage him.’

But I was too sleepy. I knew I should get up, but the warm air seemed to have relaxed my tension. I fell asleep as if someone had pushed me.

A question that I had pushed aside while treating Liam lingered hazily in my fading consciousness.

‘Come to think of it, did I ever tell Liam my name?’

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, six hours had passed.

I was surprised when I woke up. It was shocking that I could sleep with a critically injured person beside me. I reflexively turned my head to check on Liam. Thankfully, he was alive. That green medicine must have worked well.

As I pulled back the shirt, now stiff and brown with dried blood, I could see the wound beginning to heal, leaving a red scar. When I absentmindedly placed my hand on his side, he flinched his shoulder and slowly opened his eyes. Seeing that I had lifted his clothes and placed my hand on his body, Liam Moore showed a mischievous smile.

“Is it okay to just feel up someone who’s sleeping?”

“You have the spirit to joke as soon as you wake up, so I guess you’re doing alright?”

When I retorted, Liam Moore blinked his eyes prettily. I feel like his brazenness is catching up to the thirty-year-old Liam Moore. I should have firmly established discipline then, but I missed that chance, and now he’s grown into a cheeky adult. With mixed feelings, I touched his forehead. He had a slight fever.

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

Liam buried his head in the blanket again. He looked sleepy. His hoarse voice came out muffled.

“My whole body aches and hurts like it’s been pounded. Did you perhaps step on me while I was sleeping?”

“That’s not possible.”

“My side skin feels tight too.”

“That’s because the flesh is growing back. A chunk of it had fallen off, remember?”

That seemed to jog Liam’s memory. He felt his side a few times, seemingly checking that it had healed well without any trace of the deep wound.

The medicine really worked well. Maybe I should get some for myself next time.

“I see. It has grown back. What did you do?”

At that question, my gaze turned to the drawer with its front completely smashed.

After putting out the urgent fire, I had an ‘oops’ moment. Was it okay to break into someone’s room and destroy their furniture? But it was already done, it was too late to worry about it now. All that’s left is confession. I opened my mouth with a rather serious and solemn expression.

“Liam. Listen without crying.”

Liam looked up at me with eyes as round as a deer caught in a trap. Seeing that, I momentarily fumbled with my words. The explanation I had prepared to give in advance was pushed back, and instead, an odd statement popped out.

“Your drawer, it had a lot of stuff.”

And that was somewhat true. About 95% true?

As soon as I finished speaking, Liam jumped up from his spot and looked at his drawer. At the end of his gaze lay the tattered drawer, looking pitiful. And on the floor, rolling around were empty bottles and blankets ruined with dried blood. Liam rubbed his face dry and pushed back his short hair, muttering.

“You managed to find it, huh.”

“Dylan pointed out the suspicious things about your room.”

Liam mumbled Dylan’s name. He might be regretting choosing the wrong housemate.

Anyway, I was fine with it as long as he was safe. The rest is a problem for Liam and Dylan to solve after I leave. That’s what you get for acting so suspiciously.

“Hmm. And I also used some green medicine with it. It worked well.”

The medicine that flashed through Liam’s mind seemed to be only one. Yes, it must be the medicine you made for severe injuries, it doesn’t make sense if you don’t know about it. He asked, looking alternately at his flesh and me, in a somewhat frightened tone.

“…How much did you use?”

“About a spoonful?”

Phew. I heard a sigh of relief. It seems I fortunately got the right dosage.

Liam stared at me for a moment, then reached out and ruffled my hair roughly. Even when I grumbled “Ah!” and complained, he seemed to just like it. The corners of his smooth lips curled up, revealing his canine teeth clearly.

“Jane, thanks to you, I’ve survived again.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just helping…”

Wait. Did he say ‘again’?

“Again?”

Liam had an ‘oops’ expression. As if regretting having spoken too hastily.

I firmly grasped his clothes to prevent him from escaping. Liam, caught by me, rolled his eyes and went, “Uh…”

“How did you know my name? What do you mean by saving you ‘again’? Aren’t you twenty-two? How do you know me?”

My time and Liam’s are different. More precisely, the Liam here lives in a different time from me. Even if we met once when he was eighteen and again when he was twenty-two, it means that the Liam here shouldn’t actually know ‘Jane’.

We were together from Liam Moore’s mid to late twenties. And ‘I’ first met Liam Moore in November of his twenty-ninth year. The Jane who saved Liam Moore is me, that is, me seven years from now. And I never told eighteen-year-old Liam or twenty-two-year-old Liam that I was ‘Jane’.

“What on earth does this mean, Liam Moore?”

Liam’s hand naturally felt around and embraced my waist. In that gesture, I saw the all too familiar thirty-year-old Liam. No, is he thirty years old?

Liam Moore smiled, his violet eyes curving. Since when were his eyes purple? I’m not sure.

“…It’s thanks to that person.”

“Don’t be vague, explain properly.”

“In the process of patching up the cracks in his soul, I, on the other side, became able to read that person too. Now that he’s weakened, it’s become an opportunity for me to peek in.”

In the end, it means he stole the memories of thirty-year-old Liam. I didn’t know whether I should welcome this or not.

Would this be allowed? I mean, would the world tolerate this? The vicious balance that doesn’t even forgive humans the slightest truth and makes them pay the price with madness was unlikely to forgive Liam Moore for stealing a glimpse of the future.

Seeing me anxious, Liam waved his hand.

“Of course, it wasn’t much content. Just bits and pieces, only enough not to change the course of my life. After searching for a while, I found your name.”

“…”

“You didn’t tell me last time either, Jane.”

No. That was because you pushed me away before I had a chance to tell you. I didn’t try to hide my blank expression. When I let go of Liam’s collar, he smiles brightly. Seeing that face, fatigue washed over me and I sat down a little further away.

That’s when it happened. A hot wind blew from behind me. I felt fine sand, warmed up, between my fingers. It was fine-grained sand that had blown in and accumulated from somewhere. I murmured faintly.

“Sand?”

Liam, who was adjusting his clothes, stopped moving. Then he slowly raised his head.

Why was there fear reflected in those eyes? I felt around the floor with a somewhat bewildered feeling. My fingers touched something flat and smooth that I was leaning against.

“Are you going?”

Liam Moore asked like that. His voice was full of anxiety.

I couldn’t answer. Am I trying to go? How do I appear in his eyes?

What I touched was a mirror. A grand and ornate mirror that would suit a lady’s dressing table. Seeing how Liam had carelessly placed it on the floor, it seems he was just storing it or perhaps intending to dispose of it. Beyond the beautiful mirror carved with grapes, thorny vines, and thistles, something was calling me.

The wind blew from across the mirror. My hair fluttered on its own.

“It’s calling.”

I murmured as if entranced. It was a certain intuition, like truth itself speaking to me.

It calls me. From the other side. From there.

“Jane…”

I heard Liam Moore’s small voice. He was looking at me pitifully. I felt something like that emotion in his gaze towards me. A lingering feeling, wishing I wouldn’t go. Perhaps if Liam Moore had been a little younger and more selfish, he would have held me back.

Liam looked very confused by his own anxiety. Because of emotions that weren’t his own. I know.

Liam slowly approached on his knees and stopped in front of me.

“Liam.”

Confused eyes turned towards me.