ORCA 13

Starting the next day, Niah’s duties included not only tending to the garden and the greenhouse but also attending to Orca. All of the tasks that Bailey used to do were passed on to Niah. Bailey, feeling resentful, taught Niah the work with an even more insincere attitude than when he had taught him how to brew tea.

The main tasks included arranging the bedding, attending to baths, running errands, cleaning, organizing laundry, and preparing for teatime. In truth, the work was not particularly difficult. Having to handle all of it alone was tough, but the tasks themselves were on the simple side.

For Niah, it might have been for the best. He had to manage the garden and the greenhouse just as much as before, but his other miscellaneous chores had noticeably decreased.

The servants, who would previously grab him and take him away as soon as they saw him, sometimes pretended not to see Niah at all. Of course, they wouldn’t just leave; they would pass by, cursing that the fool would soon be devoured by the young master. Hearing such words made him a little scared, causing tears to well up, but he would be fine after a short while.

Niah would often hope that even if the young master really tried to eat him, he might be spared if he clung to him and begged. It was about a week after he had started attending to Orca.

Niah, who was sitting in a corner of the greenhouse repotting the plumply grown snake plants, perked up his ears. His movements slowed as he focused on the servants chatting nearby.

“Did you hear? The young master is staying at the mansion for the time being.”

“What? Is that really true? Who said so?”

“Julie. She said she heard him talking with the madam yesterday.”

Niah, who was gently brushing the soil off so as not to damage the short, thin roots, bit the inside of his lip and clenched his teeth tightly. If he didn’t, he felt like he would burst into laughter and get a scolding.

It was the first time he had heard that the young master would be staying at the mansion. Since everyone had only said the sad words that he would be leaving soon, the news he had just learned was extremely welcome.

Niah hurriedly scooped soil into a new pot. If he finished his tasks early, it was okay for him to leave the greenhouse without helping with other work. Normally, that was absolutely forbidden, but if he used the young master as an excuse, they would swear at him but let him go as if doing him a favor.

The troublesome part was Pepe’s attitude. Every time, Pepe would follow him to the greenhouse entrance and glare at him. With a suspicious face, he would narrow his eyes, poke him in the side, and interrogate him.

“You found out the young master’s weakness, didn’t you? Right? Otherwise, there’s no way….”

Since the incident in the vegetable garden, he was asked the same question several times a day. No matter how much he said he didn’t know, Pepe wouldn’t believe him and would threaten him even more frighteningly. On top of that, the poking hurt a lot. It was enough to leave bruises. Still, it was bearable because he liked going to the young master.

Niah suddenly felt a sense of urgency and glanced at Pepe, who was pruning plants in the distance. He had to finish repotting quickly and go prepare for the afternoon teatime. That way, he could see the young master sooner, and for longer.

Even so, he couldn’t treat the cute snake plants carelessly, so he transplanted them one by one with a soft touch. He gathered only the young, new sprouts separately in the prettiest teal-colored pot. His heart fluttered and swelled with excitement.

Before heading to Orca’s room, Niah first stopped by the basement washroom. It was to clean himself up. Whenever he returned from the garden or the greenhouse, his hands and face would be covered in dirt. Even if he tried to be careful, it always ended up that way. That was why he absolutely had to visit the washroom.

Niah scrubbed clean all the places he could wash without taking off his clothes, then quickly exited the washroom. When he was too dirty, he would change into fresh clothes as well. Fortunately, he didn’t look very messy today.

“Fishy smell.”

A servant who happened to be passing through the hallway saw Niah coming out of the washroom and spat out the words. Then, he pinched his nose, giggled, and walked away. Niah stopped dead in his tracks. It had been quite a while since he had heard such words, as he had been carefully avoiding people, choosing times when no one was around. That’s how he remembered it. During the day, everyone was busy with their own work, so he had never run into anyone, but he had just gotten caught.

Niah fidgeted with the towel he was holding, then brought his nose to his arm and inhaled. He smelled his other arm in turn. He also sniffed the back and palm of his hands. Sniff, sniff. There was only the familiar scent of soap; there was no fishy smell.

Niah knew what a fishy smell was. Occasionally, when fish was brought in from the market stalls, it would vibrate intensely from the kitchen. When grilled or steamed it was one thing, but the smell from dead fish was not very pleasant. It was not a smell he wanted to be around.

His elated mood sank. He worried that he, a living being, might also have such a smell.

Niah, who had needlessly gone to his room to change his clothes, hurried his steps toward the stillroom. The reward for leaving the greenhouse early had been for nothing.

Inside the stillroom, Harriet, who had arrived earlier, was waiting. She had everything prepared, including the tea set and the three-tiered tray, so they could leave right away. She stood up from her chair to greet Niah.

“Hello, Niah. You’re late today, aren’t you?”

“Yeees…. Thank you, Harriet.”

He got along quite well with Harriet. Although they had only met for a very short time, Niah liked her. Unlike the other servants, she treated him kindly, and what he liked even more was that when they happened to meet somewhere other than the stillroom, she would casually greet him with a “hello.” He even felt it was a shame that she had only just started working at the mansion.

“Um, Harriet. You know….”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Uh… um… n-no, it’s nothing. I’ll be going now, then.”

After hesitating for a moment, Niah shook his head. If even this kind person told him he smelled fishy, then it would be true. He didn’t want to know. No, actually, he did want to know. But he decided he should ask later, just some other time, not today. If he really did have such a smell, he felt like he would never be able to go to the young master again.

A pleasant fragrance always lingered around the young master. It was like being in a forest, like a breeze blowing from the mountains, and like leaves wet with rain. It was a scent he wanted to keep smelling. But for him to have a fishy smell was horrifying. He was afraid the young master would think so too.

Imagining the young master telling him he smelled fishy immediately blurred his vision. He always felt like he was floating on air when he went to the young master’s room, but not now. He wanted to hide away somewhere, deep, deep down.

“Niah? What’s wrong all of a sudden? Did something happen?”

Harriet asked with concern, stepping closer. Niah quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m okay. It’s nothing.”

Niah fled out of the stillroom and hurried across the hallway. Biting his lip, he pressed his sleeve firmly against his eyes to soak up the tears. Crying might make the fishy smell worse. He knew that, but the tears burst forth anyway. It was only by the time he was passing the corridor connecting the west wing to the central part of the mansion that his sobbing subsided.

After that, Niah couldn’t stay still until he reached the fourth floor where Orca’s room was located. He repeatedly brought his nose to his arms and hands, sniffing. Sniff, sniff. The fresh clothes he had changed into smelled of sunshine, and his skin smelled of soap. The scents had faded a bit due to the passage of time, but it was definitely not a fishy smell. Even while thinking that, he wasn’t confident.

Even after arriving in front of the door, Niah hesitated to enter and let out a small sigh. Then, he cautiously knocked on the door. He wanted to just leave the trolley and run away, but he couldn’t. The young master would have already known he was here anyway.

Somehow the young master always knew, and if Niah delayed even a little, he would fling the door open and ask what he was doing. Every time he lingered in front of the door, straightening his disheveled clothes from the walk over or checking his appearance at the last minute, the same situation would unfold.

‘What are you doing not coming in.’

‘I was just about to go in. I was just about to knock….’

Having visited every day for a week, several times a day, he naturally came to know of the young master’s ability. The young master was an amazing person who knew everything without having to see it with his eyes. Just as he was foolish for being a goldfish, it seemed the young master was amazing for being an orca. So, running away blindly like this would not improve anything.

On the contrary, it was obvious he would get a severe scolding for not attending to his duties properly. He wasn’t sure who would scold him, but he didn’t want to be scolded by the young master. It was okay to receive a harsh punishment from Andrian, Pepe, Bailey, or any of the other servants. He felt he could even endure slamming his forehead into the ground over and over like last time.

However, the thought that the young master would no longer stroke his head made him sad. He didn’t want to do anything that would make him disliked.

“Young master….”

Niah called out to Orca in a small voice as he entered. Orca was in a position where their eyes met immediately. The moment Niah saw him, he hung his head low. Pretending to scratch his itchy nose, he secretly took a deep breath. Cold sweat ran down his back, terrified of what he would do if the young master kicked him out. There was still no fishy smell.

Orca, sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room, furrowed his brow. The goldfish was always timidly gauging his reaction for no reason, but even then, he couldn’t take his eyes off him. If left alone without a word, he would appreciate Orca’s face even more freely.

For someone like that to now be actively trying not to look at him was extremely irritating. The clumsy attempt to hide a face that was clearly marked by crying also made his anger surge.

What the goldfish was supposed to do was to come in hesitantly, brew some awful tea, then kneel on the carpet and honestly give his clumsy answers to Orca’s questions. When his belly was filled with tea sandwiches and milk tea, he was supposed to beg for his cheek to be stroked, grinning like an idiot.

For the goldfish he had summoned for that very purpose to behave this way—a wave of displeasure crashed over him.

Niah brewed the tea in a sequence and manner far stranger than in the past few days. Orca, with his arm draped over the back of the sofa and his chin resting on his hand, watched him intently. He looked ready to reveal his sharp teeth and tear him to shreds at any moment. For Orca, ripping Niah apart was an easier task than drinking tea. His on-edge eyes glinted sharply.

The goldfish, lost in whatever thoughts were in his head, had a dazed look in his eyes, and even his hands were trembling. As if determined to test Orca’s patience, his gaze remained fixed on the floor. It was the same when he placed the teacup filled with the crude tea on the table, and when he brought over and set down the tea sandwich tray. He would approach with a strangely awkward posture, hesitating, then retreat in one go as if being chased by someone. His blank face, which should have been a clear window to his thoughts, was now just a blank sheet of paper. No matter how carefully he scrutinized it, he couldn’t read his intentions.

Orca suppressed his displeasure as much as possible and spoke, as if sighing.

“Niah. Come here.”

If he acted nicely even now, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t be forgiven. If he clung to him, shedding big tears from his large eyes and crying, ‘Young master, young master,’ Orca intended to gently stroke and soothe him. Then, he would coax him just enough to find out the cause of his frustrating behavior.

Of course, whatever the reason, the fact that it was infuriating wouldn’t change, so he did plan to make him cry again. If he shoved his fingers into that warm mouth and stirred them around as he pleased, the goldfish would surely tremble. The image was vivid: a goldfish begging his forgiveness every time Orca gave him a moment to breathe so he wouldn’t faint. As he planned to gently soothe him and feed him the pound cake he had brought, he grew uncharacteristically impatient.

The goldfish would munch away earnestly and then, rubbing his forehead against him, would flash a bright smile. Seeing the goldfish cry at one touch and laugh at another, busily doing one half-baked thing after another, would likely improve his mood. And if his mood was still foul even after that, he would simply repeat the process until he felt better.

For the punishment for angering him to be just this much was an overly generous measure. Just then, a small glass jar of condensed milk caught his eye.

At his call, Niah flinched his shoulders. He didn’t come over right away but instead fidgeted, tangling his fingers. In truth, he really, really wanted to go. He wanted to sit by the young master’s side and spend time with him. He had come here to work, but it wasn’t tiring at all, only enjoyable. He liked that he was given delicious things, but what he liked even more was the touch of his hand, caressing him as if he were some precious object, and his voice calling out, ‘Niah.’

In his memory, it was the first time he had received such treatment in the mansion. Harriet treated him kindly too, but it was a different feeling from the young master. Besides, the young master, seen up close, was incredibly handsome. It didn’t happen when he looked at other servants, but when he observed the young master, the corners of his mouth would twitch uncontrollably.

This was a secret from the young master. He just felt, for some reason, that he shouldn’t get caught. He could be scolded for watching without permission, and if he were asked why he was doing it, he wouldn’t know how to answer.

It was only a short while ago that he realized the young master knew his name and even called him by it. It had been about two or three days. The voice that whispered ‘Niah’ softly into his ear as he held back tears sounded like sweet honey. His chest felt so ticklish that he wanted to scratch it raw. It kept coming to mind at night, so he couldn’t even sleep well.

“Niah.”

But today, it didn’t bring him joy. His feet felt glued to the ground, unable to move. A late regret washed over him that he should have just asked Harriet.

Tears, which had started flowing down his cheeks at some point, pooled at his chin and dripped down. Drip, drip. He wanted to wipe them away quickly, but his tangled fingers wouldn’t budge. He worried that his fishy smell would spread to the young master sitting a few steps away, which only made the tears flow more profusely.

“Come here.”

Orca repeated the same words after a short pause. At that command, laced with anger, Niah squeezed his eyes shut. A sob, bursting out before he could hold it back, fell helplessly through his clamped lips. Forcing his feet to move, Niah took half a step back and weakly shook his head.

Seeing the goldfish being so pathetically stubborn, Orca rose from the sofa.

“Why won’t you listen.”

With his hands in his pockets, Orca walked slowly as if on a stroll. He closed the distance of just a few paces very slowly. With each step of his dress shoes on the carpet, his breaths grew rougher.

His frayed senses grew progressively more sensitive, sharpening to a keen edge. All the various noises from outside the room pierced his ears like tinnitus. He cracked his neck with a crack. Niah’s watery breaths and the choked-up cries surging in his throat were the loudest sounds he could hear.

Niah, who had been cowering, squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. The approaching presence made fear well up inside him. He couldn’t tell if he was scared because the young master would be angry, or if he was worried that he would smell the fishiness on him. He just wanted to collapse from the terror that made his body tremble. It wasn’t even clear what was making him so afraid.

Even in this state, the tears showed no sign of stopping and streamed down his face. He forced strength into his trembling legs. He had to get away from the young master. In truth, he wanted to run and cling to him, but he couldn’t do that. He was sure he smelled of soap earlier, but now, for some reason, he felt like he smelled fishy.

He suddenly recalled the servant in the basement who had pinched his nose and left as soon as he saw him. Maybe, as the other servants said, the smell got worse when he cried. If that were true, he didn’t want the young master to find out. The thought was already horrifying.

With every step Orca took toward him, the goldfish flinched and retreated a little. If he really wanted to run away, it was a foolish decision. It wasn’t long before he was caught, making it a truly idiotic choice. As a result, the top of the goldfish’s head was soon below his line of sight.

The tense strands of hair trembled, thoroughly terrified. Perhaps because the already close distance had narrowed even further, the small sobs reached him more rawly than before. The contours of his wet breath were laid bare without concealment. The loud noises from outside vanished, and only the muffled sound of crying, suppressed through sheer effort, stood out, rolling around the shell of his ear.