He must have been cornered to the edge of the bed because of . From the bed, shrouded in a canopy that concealed the interior, I faintly heard Liam’s voice.
“Why ‘Don’t co near ’? Are you going through puberty? What’s wrong with you? You need to get better so we can go ho.”
“No…”
This is strange. Why is Liam Moore sounding so weak?
The Liam Moore I rember is a smart, arrogant young man, who lives for his own satisfaction. He’s sensitive and willing to give everything to his people, sharp and straightforward outside but sowhat tender at ho—a charming contrast.
But there’s no weakness in him. Even with a knife to his throat, he’d calmly deduce the origin of the blade and the background of the attacker. There’s no way he’d be scared of .
“Let’s talk.”
I pushed through the vines, dragged a chair over, and started speaking.
“How’s your health?”
“Go away. There’s nothing to talk about.”
The reply ca quickly.
Nothing to talk about? You?
I laughed in disbelief. Could it be that he’s in such a state he can’t even tell about his condition?
I could faintly imagine Liam Moore’s appearance: pale as a ghost, leaning against the headboard, looking emaciated. My tearful detective looks good even when sick, but this was unacceptable. We shouldn’t be in a parallel existence like this.
As I reached out, the air around the canopy resisted intensely, desperately blocking my approach.
Not that he’s trying to fight , but how bad must he look to go to such lengths? I ground my teeth. I’m not usually in the best mood, but today, irritation was surging.
Then it happened. Sothing sharp deeply scratched my palm. It burned. The sudden pain made withdraw.
“Did you just hurt ?”
That Liam Moore?
At first, I was surprised, then I felt absurd. I flipped my hand to check my palm.
But then, sothing strange happened.
There was no wound on my palm.
I was definitely cut. I felt the skin tear and sothing hot flowing, but there was no wound. It felt surreal.
Pain intensifies the more you recognize it, but it doesn’t disappear. It’s designed to linger as an afterimage to tornt you. But as soon as I stopped thinking ‘it hurts,’ the pain vanished as if washed away.
“Why?”
Why doesn’t it hurt?
No answer ca from inside the canopy.
Co to think of it, the surroundings were very dark. The brightly shining vines were nowhere to be seen, and everything was black. The bed with the canopy was the only thing visible in the ominously thick darkness.
This is far from a normal situation.
“…Liam?”
Ignoring the resistance, I reached out and grabbed the canopy.
The thick fabric opened easily, despite its previous resistance, and inside was…
A face I recognized. Black hair and grey eyes that were not easily seen in others. But it was rounder, smaller, and younger-looking.
It was Liam Moore. But at the sa ti, it wasn’t.
Liam Moore, looking about eighteen, was lying on the canopy bed.
I must be crazy. For a mont, I thought I had gone mad and slapped my cheeks hard. But it didn’t hurt. Like my cut palm, there was just the act of ‘slapping’ without any sensation.
“Liam?”
As I stood there with my mouth agape at the unreal scene, the eighteen-year-old Liam Moore raised an arm to cover his eyes.
“Stop calling .”
His voice, slightly higher and sounding very weary and despondent, mumbled.
“Leave alone. Stop tornting by pretending to be human….”
I collapsed into the chair in shock.
What is this? Why is Liam younger? Outside, Owen and Herschel are there. What is this, a curse? But how is this even possible?
Ti is reversing for William Moore in 19th-century London, but wait, is this reality?
But it was definitely reality until a mont ago. The sensations I felt running here were all real. It must have turned into unreality at so point without noticing.
Overwheld by sudden fear, I jumped up and ran to the door I ca through. I frantically yanked at the doorknob, but no matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t budge. I scread.
“Owen! Get out of here! Sothing’s wrong!”
“Owen?”
The eighteen-year-old Liam asked from the bed.
“This is the first ti you’ve called out a na other than mine. Who’s Owen?”
Voice? Can’t he see ?
I slowly turned my head in disbelief.
A Liam who doesn’t know Owen. My confidence evaporated. I wanted to punch the from five minutes ago who thought I could save Liam Moore.
What do I do? I felt helpless. Still, this is Liam, so maybe if I talk to him, he’ll understand.
I trudged back to the bed and managed to speak.
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“Right next to you!”
But he looked around with blank eyes, muttering.
“Not here.”
This crazy kid. Can’t he see ? He used to see things others couldn’t from a young age. Herschel said so. Herschel, that liar.
I sat on the bed. As the bed slightly tilted under my weight, Liam finally looked in my direction. Rather than seeing , it was more like he sensed ‘sothing’ where I was.
“That’s strange.”
He muttered. His dry hand reached out. I extended my hand toward his, but it passed through his hand as if I were invisible. Gasping, I heard Liam ask.
“Who are you? Why are you here?”
“I…”
“Why are you acting like you know ?”
I couldn’t answer. Whether I had really travelled to the past or was seeing an illusion, I didn’t know what to say to this young Liam Moore.
If it’s really the past Liam, what should I do? I can’t tell him he’ll be in danger because of later. The butterfly effect of my words could be terrifying.
If it’s just an illusion, for so unknown reason, will talking to an illusory Liam bring back to reality?
“I…”
“Are you here to curse again?”
I took a slow, deep breath.
Calm down. Whatever you say, it can’t get worse than this.
“No, I won’t do that.”
Young Liam laughed. It was the sa laugh I rembered, so I was at a loss for words. I should be comforting him, telling him I care about him and don’t want to hurt him. But this young Liam, who doesn’t know , was so shocking I couldn’t decide how to approach him.
So, I hesitated for a while before revealing half the truth.
“I got lost. I was trying to find soone.”
“Owen?”
“No, soone else. A very pretty and lovable crybaby.”
He was looking at the area around with a subtle expression. Propping himself up on the mattress, Liam spoke.
“You’ve wandered into the wrong place.”
“Yeah. I can’t believe it myself….”
As I mumbled to myself, Liam laughed again.
Just a few exchanges and he seed to let his guard down. He laughed easily and trusted quickly. The thirty-year-old Liam Moore wouldn’t have done that. He would have doubted to the end, dug in, and pursued the truth. The one in front of was indeed a young and innocent Liam.
With a more relaxed face, Liam asked.
“Should I help you?”
I observed the adolescent Liam for a mont.
His shirt was a bit too big, and he wore cotton pants. His complexion was pale, and his bangs were stuck with sweat. His eyes were reddish underneath. He didn’t look well.
“…You’re sick. How can you help ?”
When I asked that, Liam looked visibly offended.
“I’m not sick. I just need so rest.”
“Then you should rest. I can manage on my own. I’m older than you and have been through more than you think. It’s best for kids to just lie down and sleep.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen.”
Well, that’s still a kid. I quietly muttered to myself as I reached out to Liam.
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