ORCA 19

The desire to go to the young master quickly and the embarrassment of showing himself in such a state were mixed. He debated whether to pick up and put on the underwear he had placed in the basket, but soon gave up. He thought it would be stranger if only that part was wet.

“Umm…. But I am not naked. Yes, it is okay.”

Niah, who had been dawdling while looking at his exposed legs, slowly pulled the doorknob. Hiding his front slightly with the towel he held in one hand, he peeked his head out.

Orca, who had been listening to the hesitation of him lingering without coming out right away, shot up from his seat as soon as he heard the door open. He approached the goldfish who had come out of the bathroom hesitantly and took the towel, placing it on top of Niah’s head.

“You should have dried yourself properly before coming out.”

As he rubbed and dried the hair from which water was dripping, drip, drip, Niah lifted his head to meet his gaze. He pretended not to notice, took his hands off the towel, and folded the cumbersomely long sleeves three or four times.

Niah stood quietly, only wiggling his toes. His movement, tinged with shyness, immediately captivated Orca’s attention. His gaze licked down the thighs and calves exposed by the hem of the shirt. The bare legs, illuminated by the dim light, were provocative. Blood rushed to one area.

I have really lost my mind.

“Niah. Go back now.”

He withdrew his persistent gaze and took a half-step back diagonally, clearing the way.

Niah. A servant of the Ware family mansion. Curly orange hair, faded as if mixed with water. A narrow stride that scurries around. The overflowing scent of wildflowers. A voice laced with tears. A soft tongue. Pleading eyes. A stolen glance. A light body that melts into his embrace. A bright smiling face. A giggling sound. Pudding-like earlobes. Fingernail-sized fins. A gentle demeanor. A thin body with no flesh. Flushed cheeks. Smooth skin. Scales that glittered under the moonlight. Panting breaths. Slender fingers that cling to him. An error. A line that must not be crossed. A small, weak goldfish.

Orca did not want to murder the goldfish. But for now, he did not know how else to deal with this excitement. The unfamiliar emotion was currently unnecessarily overheated. A strange crack had formed on the boring peace. So, he had to at least try to create some distance right now. He needed the leeway to maintain his reason at this moment.

“You should go to sleep.”

Orca pushed Niah outside the line. Instead of answering, Niah looked up at him with a tilted head, and he stroked under his chin once before patting his lower back.

“It is late at night.”

“Yeees. Then I will come tomorrow morning.”

Only then did Niah raise the corners of his mouth and take a step.

Niah carefully climbed the steep spiral staircase, shaking the water from his still-damp hair. He was wearing Orca’s shirt instead of his wet clothes. With just a single shirt over his freshly washed and soft naked body, he had a large towel draped over his head.

The soft fabric slid gently, swish, swish, every time he moved his arms, every time he lifted his legs alternately. Unlike his own scratchy clothes, it was a very luxurious material. Because of the generous size that did not fit his build, it looked more like he had been swallowed by the clothes rather than wearing them, and the sleeves, long enough to cover his entire hands, had to be folded several times, but Niah’s spirits were soaring.

Thinking that it was a shirt the young master had worn, he kept giggling, heehee. His heart, swollen with anticipation, buzzed around like a bee hovering around a flower.

Niah would stop his heehee laughter and wiggle his nose, sniffing, sniff, sniff. He was definitely alone, yet he could smell the young master. Not the scent of the soap made in the mansion’s distillery, not a fishy smell, but the good scent he could feel when he got close to the young master.

He was much happier than when he had bitten into a pancake with honey, happier than when the young master had given him something delicious. He found himself wishing for the morning to come quickly. This was a first.

A feeling that could not be expressed in a single word filled his chest. Niah pushed away all the bad memories and was endlessly excited, relying only on the happy ones. As he entered his room, he even hummed a little tune, which was unlike him.

The central 6th floor, where his room was located, was rarely frequented by people. Unless the servants came up on purpose to clean the entire mansion or to look for Niah, he was the only one who used it. Even Niah himself was rarely there during the day. He had many things to do from morning to evening and would usually return to his room only after it had gotten dark.

If he left the door wide open, moonlight would seep in through the long window in the hallway, clearing his vision a little. The problem was that he could not keep it open for long, as it was quite chilly there even during the day unless it was midsummer.

The silence of the darkened mansion was not something he easily got used to. He felt like he could hear creaking sounds, creak, creak, for no reason, and felt like something might pop out, so he could not leave the door open. The only time he was not a coward was when he could not bear his hunger and headed to the lake. But today, far from being scared, he felt so good it was a problem. He did not flinch at all at sounds that would normally have startled him.

Niah left the door wide open and took out a short candle he had hidden in a corner. It was one of the ones he had been saving to use when he suffered from nightmares. He felt like doing so today because he was in a good mood. It did not feel like a waste at all. Thanks to the moonlight faintly illuminating the room, he was able to light it quickly. The small room brightened up with a warm light, whoosh.

When he closed the door again, the shadow, singed by the fire, flickered. Niah, huddled under the slanted ceiling, tilted his head. His eyes, debating whether to change into his neatly folded clothes, darted around busily.

“Umm, what should I do…?”

He fiddled with the hem of the shirt he was wearing. The feel of the fabric at his fingertips was soft and smooth like the foam of a bath bomb. In the end, deciding to just sleep as he was, Niah only put on underwear underneath the bareness.

Lying in bed and pulling up the blanket, he quietly watched the candle that had already burned down quite a bit. The young master’s face floated up above the flickering flame. The touch of his hand stroking him, the feeling of his lips on an unfamiliar place, his firm skin, and the voice that tickled his ear all rushed in at once like a gust of wind coming through a narrow passage.

Niah pulled his arms and legs in, intending to cover his heart that had been pounding, thump-thump, all this time. The spring night was still cold for sleeping in just a thin shirt, and he felt a chill as his wet hair was not completely dry. But sleepiness did not take such circumstances into account and poured down helplessly.

Niah pulled the blanket up over his head and slowly closed his eyelids, flutter. As his slowly blinking eyes closed completely, the candle, having exhausted its strength, flickered its last flame. Darkness swiftly descended upon the room as if it had been waiting.

Niah quickly fell asleep, smelling the pleasant scent. He wanted to go and meet the young master right away.

Niah, who woke up early, let out a groan. Perhaps because he had slept in thin clothes and with his hair not fully dry, his body felt shivery. His mind was foggy, and his throat was sore. It was not to the point where he could not move, but his condition was definitely not good.

“Ah, ah…. Hmmm.”

He rubbed his eyes and forced himself to sit up, clearing his throat. A raspy, metallic sound came from his throat. He thought it might be because he had cried so much all afternoon yesterday. His swollen eyelids felt heavy.

Niah remained hunched over for a short while, then soon got out of bed. He neatly folded the shirt he had received from the young master and placed it carefully on one side of the bed, then put on his everyday clothes over his chilly body. A sense of needless disappointment washed over him as the scratchy feeling replaced the soft texture. He picked up the shirt again and buried his face in it. As he sniffed the scent, sniff, sniff, a smile unknowingly appeared. He wanted to meet the young master even a little bit sooner.

He came out with the towel he had brought yesterday, a new pair of underwear, and socks. It was earlier than usual. The sky was dusky. He felt sleepy due to a slight cold, and he wanted to lie down and rest. But the desire to go to the young master was much stronger.

Niah went down the steep stairs two steps at a time. He almost tumbled over several times but did not stop. He hurried as if he were being chased by something.

His throat, which had taken in a lungful of cold air, pricked as if he had swallowed a cactus. After struggling to calm his rough breathing from running so hard, he slowly pulled the doorknob. The basement, the servants’ living space, was silent except for the occasional sound of snoring. After all, it was not yet time for the mansion’s servants to start their daily routine. It was that early.

Niah naturally shrank back, even though he knew no one was awake. He tiptoed so that no one would notice he had come down. His steps, close to the outer wall of the hallway, were like those of a sinner. It was always like that.

As soon as he entered the bathroom as if hiding, he threw off his top and then pulled down his pants and underwear at once. He quickly became naked as he tossed aside the clothes that had piled up in a lump at his ankles. Even then, his impatience did not disappear, and he moved about busily.

Niah, looking back and forth between the wooden bathtub and the metal basin, gave up on filling the tub and squatted in front of the faucet. He had woken up unnecessarily early, so he had plenty of time, but he did not feel like taking it easy. His bottom kept fidgeting. He had no regard for his own physical condition.

Niah, having thoroughly soaked his body, quickly grabbed the soap and scrubbed vigorously. He worked up a good lather and, while rubbing his chest with one palm, washed his hair with the other. Then he would switch positions, rubbing his thigh with one hand and his back with the other. It was truly a strange way to bathe. As he repeated this, his whole body was covered in white foam. He looked like a snowman he had secretly made last winter.

He grinned for a moment at the silly thought, then poured water over the top of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut as the soap bubbles ran down, making them sting, and repeated this several times until all the big bubbles were washed away. After that, he thoroughly rinsed his still-slippery skin and hair, and also rinsed his still-stinging eyes again. After brushing his teeth meticulously, he briskly dried himself with a new towel.

The preparations to go to Orca happened in an instant and were finished quickly.

Niah, suppressing his impatient heart as much as possible to achieve a neat appearance, now headed for the laundry room. The laundry room, located separately in the mansion’s backyard, was on the closer side to the basement, but to Niah right now, it seemed too far. On top of that, even the laundry he did every morning felt troublesome for some reason.

The young master’s image floated up in his mind. His cool and handsome face, his body covered in hard muscles, his gentle voice, his incredibly good scent, his ticklish touch, all of it came to mind, and his chest swelled as if it would burst. His solar plexus ached. A cherry-blossom-pink shyness settled on Niah’s cheeks.

“Ah, right.”

Niah, who had safely exited the basement, suddenly stopped and buried his nose in his wrist. When he had just woken up, he could still smell the young master, but now it smelled of familiar soap. He had been so focused on going quickly that he had completely forgotten the important thing.

“How stupid….”

Niah’s eyebrows drooped as he tiptoed out the back door of the mansion. His steps, as if displeased with himself, were full of petulance.

Still, he could not neglect his duties, so he went straight into the laundry room. It was a familiar place, as he had often helped with the laundry before the young master arrived. He brought a small basin that was leaning against the wall and put the laundry in it. After turning on the water and soaking it sufficiently, he took it out onto a wide board and rubbed it with laundry soap.

The laundry was just two towels and one pair of underwear. The clothes he had worn yesterday had to be brought from the young master’s bathroom. He planned to bring them and wash them after serving the pre-breakfast tea later. That would probably line up with the start of the greenhouse chores. It would be a bit tight if he had to stop by the dining hall in between, but it did not matter. Andrian gave him looks every time he ate, so he could not eat leisurely anyway, and even if he could not eat at all, he could just go to the young master in the afternoon.

Niah washed the towel Orca had given him with particular care. He thought he might be praised if he washed it clean and returned it. Suddenly, a desire arose for the young master to do the same things he had done yesterday today. Of course, being stroked was nice, but being held in a tight embrace felt so good it made him want to scratch at his heart.

The memory of him caressing him here and there in the bathtub was also very pleasant. It was ticklish and fluffy and slippery and soft, making him feel like he was floating on the surface of the water. It was a sensation he had never felt before in his life. It was difficult to describe it with words other than just ‘good.’ It was a little different from being embarrassed and shy.

He became curious about what the young master would say if he asked him. Since the young master was an amazing person, maybe he knew the answer.

Niah, who had been completely absorbed in thoughts of Orca, was suddenly startled and left the laundry room. Outside, it had become quite bright. It was still early morning, but it was enough to make Niah’s impatience overflow.

Looking at the forest beyond where the dawn was breaking in the distance, he hung up the cleanly washed towel and underwear. His arms and legs moved nimbly in the simple motion of shaking out the wrinkles. The clothesline pole was quite high, so he had to stand on his tiptoes and stretch his arms out straight. Only after carefully securing them with clothespins so they would not be blown away by the wind could he head to his original destination, the central 4th floor.

Niah forged ahead powerfully, as if flapping his tail fin. As if by a lie, his body felt light. A laugh full of anticipation also escaped him, heehee.

Arriving at Orca’s room, Niah knocked on the door. The small reverberation felt like his own heartbeat. The wood made a thump-thump sound, just like his heart. Niah, grinning foolishly, was waiting for Orca’s answer when he suddenly pressed his ear to the door.

“Umm…?”

Something was strange.

The young master always opened the door as soon as he knocked, or sometimes appeared before his eyes even before he had a chance to knock. He was surprised every single time. It was just amazing how he knew without even seeing. But today was strange. This was the first time that nothing had happened for so long.

Flustered, Niah took a step back and darted his eyes around. His anxiously intertwined fingers fidgeted restlessly.

“Uh-uh? Uh…. Why, what is it…?”

He wondered if he was still sleeping, but he was bewildered because he had never done so before. Not knowing what to do, he just twisted his poor fingers. Niah swallowed dryly, gulp. His thorny throat stung. He tried hard to deceive himself into acting nonchalant and paced around the same spot.

The young master was a kind and gentle person. Yesterday, the day before, every single day, he had been good to him. So this was just a fleeting worry. He tried hard to rationalize the current situation, believing that it was only because he had come too early that the young master was not awake, that he would open the door soon, that it would surely be so.

Despite these efforts, Niah gradually began to breathe in short gasps. In an instant, the corners of his eyes turned red. His body, which he had thought was light, felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton.

“Young master…. Young masteer? Are you, not awake yet…?”

He gathered his courage and approached, knocking on the door once more. His call was noticeably more cautious than before. But this time, too, there was no answer.

Orca did not open the door. He did not even tell him to go away. He just ignored him.

Niah, left alone in the hallway, reached out with a trembling hand and pulled the doorknob. At the clatter of metal hitting metal, clank, tears burst forth. It was a sound that made him realize his place once again. If the young master did not allow it, there was nothing he could do. He could not meet him carelessly, nor touch him freely. It was a matter of course.

He quickly went around the room and entered through the door connected to the bathroom. Fortunately, this side was not locked. As he drew close to the bathroom door leading to the room, tears streamed down his face. His chest ached as if cut by a knife, and he felt a terrifying sensation. His fingers, unable to reach the desired place, trembled in the air. He was afraid it would not open this time either.