ORCA 14

At some point, the keenly sharpened senses were focused in one place and poured down. If senses had weight, the goldfish would not have been able to bear it and would have collapsed long ago. Every subtle movement the goldfish made stimulated his nerves.

“Niah. You have to be a good boy.”

Orca tried his best to calmly soothe Niah. It was a waste of time to torment a body that ailed for two days from just a cold wind. A punishment that used up all the condensed milk on the table would be sufficient. So he hoped that Niah would break his pathetic stubbornness at this point and cling to his arm, begging.

It was the goldfish himself who had promised to be obedient. And for the past few days, he had been. He came when told to come, left when told to leave, and followed Orca’s words docilely, doing as he was ordered. It wasn’t just the past few days; just this morning, he was a goldfish who had clung to him closely, looking up at him with eyes full of anticipation for his touch.

“Niah.”

Therefore, Orca wanted to wrap up this situation, which held little interest for him, as soon as possible. He could listen to the reason for the sudden change in attitude later. He had no intention of letting him go until he heard it anyway. For now, the first thing to do was to take the goldfish, sit him down in front of him, and wipe his tear-streaked face. When the tears subsided, he would punish him and make him cry anew. It was infuriating that he had come with his eyes already a mess because of someone else, whoever that might be.

If he cried his eyes out, Orca would soothe him and make him cry again, soothe him and make him cry again, and he felt that his boiling anger would only subside when the goldfish, exhausted from crying, collapsed into his arms. To do that, taking him to the sofa was the first thing he had to do. Orca took his right hand out of his pocket. If he stroked under that trembling chin, the goldfish would soon rely on his touch and wriggle his way closer in anticipation.

“Niah.”

Niah flinched in surprise and quickly raised his head. The eyes he had been squeezing shut flew open. Flustered, Niah dodged Orca’s hand and ran away. But it was a retreat of not even half a step.

His vision, where tears had gathered drop by drop, was as hazy as being in a fog. He unlaced the fingers he had been clasping and rubbed his eyes. The young master was too close. That was more frightening than the young master’s angry expression, his brow furrowed. This close, there was no way to hide the fishy smell.

Orca was slowly reaching his limit. He, for one, couldn’t understand what nerve this coward had to not stop running away. Nor did he want to understand. If he had just turned around and run out of the room, there would have been at least some fun in chasing him, but the goldfish only crept backward, giving him no chance to be the chaser.

“You’d better come now.”

Orca deliberately extended his arm. He didn’t add the words, ‘while I’m still being nice.’ Instead, he ground his molars and beckoned with his finger, as if urging him on again and again. It was hard to be patient any longer. The thin thread of reason, with barely a single strand left, was forcibly holding him in place. Once more, he called, “Niah.”

The goldfish was always steeped in some kind of fear, even when Orca did nothing. So, this was more effective than outright frightening him. He would cling desperately to a single name, a single touch. It was as desperate as quenching a long-held thirst.

Niah glanced at the hand that had stopped near him out of the corner of his eye. Then, he bit his lip and quickly bowed his head. The fingers that had been wiping away tears hesitantly moved down and gripped the hem of his clothes tightly. Then he shook his head back and forth. Swish, swish.

If he could, he wanted to lather his entire body with soap suds right now and erase the fishy smell. Then he could press his cheek against that hand as the young master said. But right now, he didn’t have the courage. He was tormented by the recurring image of the servant who had pinched his nose at the sight of him. It would have been great if he had forgotten about it on his way to the young master, but it was still just as vivid.

Niah stepped back a little further and shook his head again. The tears kept coming.

“Hnng…. No, I don’t want to. I don’t want to….”

Orca, who had been watching the lips from which the defiant answer had finally burst, took a long stride with a placid expression. The hand he had extended, he stuck back into his pants pocket. Now he had truly crossed the limit.

As his chest approached as if to collide with him, Niah pushed against the carpet with his heels in fear. The desire not to be found out took precedence over the anxiety that he might be harmed, and he lost his mind.

Orca had an endlessly benevolent and calm face. He simply closed the short gap that had opened up as soon as it was narrowed, without any delay. This ambiguous game of tag was repeated a few more times after that, before ending with his harsh sigh.

With a light kick, he knocked Niah over. Niah didn’t even have a chance to do anything about his ankle, which was yanked forward from behind, and landed on his bottom. A groan of “Ugh,” escaped him.

He fumbled with the palm of his hand on the floor and flailed his legs. The stiff pile of the carpet rubbed and scraped against the soles of his shoes. Scrape, scrape. But he was caught before he could get very far. No matter how much he struggled, he was reduced to just writhing on the spot where he had fallen. This was because Orca was pressing down on the top of one of his feet.

“Young master, huh, young, master…. Heuk.”

“Is your memory perhaps a mess?”

“That’s, ugh…. That’s not it, huh….”

“If it’s not that, then I feel wronged.”

“Hnng, heup, young master. Young masteer….”

After all this, a normal person would have grabbed his pant leg and begged for forgiveness, but the goldfish just cried. He didn’t reach out his pitiful fingers, nor did he cling and grovel. He just struggled hard to get away. The reason was still beyond his guess.

If he was going to be like this, there was no point in having gone to the trouble of keeping him alive. Orca took his right hand out of his pocket and wiped his face. The fingertips moving down from his forehead to his chin trembled faintly. He couldn’t understand why he was so furious.

Should I just kill him?

It was the easiest and fastest way to relieve the stuffiness that filled his chest. He wanted to grasp the goldfish in his hand and crush him. If he crushed the goldfish’s bones and squeezed out the organs inside, it would burst with a cheerful pop. It would only take a moment.

If he didn’t like that method, it was also fine to solve the curiosity he’d had until now. He could put him in his mouth and chew on him. If he savored him for a long time and then swallowed him down as he pleased, this burning feeling would also become a thing of the past. It was a clean ending that wouldn’t even cause a commotion in the mansion.

Orca rolled his eyes back and closed them. It was such a simple thing, yet he couldn’t easily bring himself to do it. It was different from the emotions he had to suppress on the battlefields of the border to avoid killing his own allies. There was a sense of unease somewhere. It was unfamiliar and rash.

He slowly lifted his eyelids. The round head reflected in his murky pupils looked like a small orange. It was like a ripe fruit that, if squeezed, would drip juice and drench the carpet.

Niah, who had been struggling to free his stepped-on foot, suddenly looked up with a start. The large figure was casting a shadow over him. Only then did he realize that the young master’s hand had come down right in front of his nose. Belatedly seized by a different kind of fear, Niah looked at Orca. His tightly clamped lips trembled.

As soon as his eyes met Niah’s, who was sitting on the floor, Orca withdrew his hand and straightened his bent back.

“Really, I feel so wronged.”

He averted his gaze to the ceiling. The sentiment that flowed out like a lament represented his state of mind, which was on the verge of going mad. He himself wasn’t sure if he had intended to soothe the whimpering goldfish below, or to crush and kill him as he had just thought. What was certain was that if he left himself like this, it wouldn’t be strange if he killed the goldfish at any moment.

The volume of the noise in his ears was chaotic and disorganized. It was not well-controlled. He was already not in his right mind. Orca stepped back a couple of steps from Niah. He needed another way. He needed another way to both draw the goldfish, who was trying to run away without even giving a reason, to him, and at the same time, for himself to regain his sanity.

When the weight that had been crushing the top of his foot disappeared, Niah drew his legs together. He rubbed his eyes haphazardly with his sleeve and curled into a ball. Then he carefully observed the young master. The young master was breathing heavily and covering his face with both