ORCA 25

“I, I won’t take the punishment. Sob…, please let me go. Please…. You said it hurt. I don’t like… the young master disappearing. I don’t like it, young master. Please. Sob, young masteeer….”

Orca found Niah’s plea—as he sniffled and desperately choked back his sobs—both ridiculous and, for some reason, enjoyable. He even went as far as to idly ponder if there was any way to die briefly and then come back to life just to see how the goldfish would look watching it. The sight would surely be a spectacle.

Perhaps feeling slightly calmer, the goldfish let out a shallow breath and gripped my hand tightly again. With a face stained here and there with blood from wiping away his tears, he continuously begged me to let him go. Not only his face, but his hands and upper clothes were also stained with blood.

Making the goldfish cry, making him beg, staining him with blood—it was all my doing. I was the one who had made such a mess of him. Yet, the goldfish acted as if none of that mattered. He just leaned his forehead against my chest and whimpered pitifully. It felt like a lie that he had been trying to run away just moments ago.

“Young master….”

My senses sharpened, and a surge of excitement rushed through me. I wondered how the goldfish would respond if I did something even worse than this. It would surely not end with just crying. I couldn’t clearly picture such an unseen side of him. I wanted to see that unfamiliar side that I did not yet know.

“Alright. I suppose that can be arranged.”

At his low, sinister words, Niah rubbed his forehead against me. He took it to mean that I wouldn’t punish him and felt completely relieved. He even whispered his thanks through his labored breathing. He believed it was the answer he had been waiting for all this time.

Orca felt a sense of fulfillment from the small body pressing firmly against him and simply let it be. Although he knew full well that Niah had misunderstood, he had no intention of correcting him. A strange sense of anticipation hung in the gaze that settled fully over Niah, who was innocently nestled against him.

His eyes, full of desire, gleamed. The wounds he had inflicted upon himself were of no concern from the start. He was indifferent to everything else, merely admiring the goldfish who, even while in front of him, desperately called out, “Young master, young master.”

The goldfish pampered me, still clutching my hand. He leaned his cheek against me, looked up at me, then leaned his forehead on me and looked at me again.

“Then, I’ll be back. I’ll go call someone else quickly. So, you must not disappear. Okay?”

After a moment, he informed me as if delivering an order in a heavily stifled voice. Orca obediently let Niah go. Instead of the back of his head that he had been stroking, he ran his fingers through his hair and toyed with his soft earlobes.

“Forget about someone else; just go and bring back things useful for treatment. Clean cloth and medicine for the wound. Anything will do, so don’t run—go slowly, and return slowly by yourself. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Oh… yes…. Alone, clean cloth and medicine, and…. Don’t run, go slowly. Clean cloth and medicine. Slowly, alone.”

Niah, having left the room, roamed the mansion covered in blood. He walked with bright red blood smeared all over his face, hands, and clothes without exception.

“Clean cloth and medicine. Slowly, alone. Clean cloth and medicine. Slowly, alone.”

Muttering quietly to himself for fear of forgetting, he traversed the hallway at a very slow pace.

The other servants who saw this could not hide their shock. There wasn’t a single servant who didn’t know that Niah had started serving the young master. The conjecture that something had gone terribly wrong quickly turned into a definite rumor, rapidly spreading to every corner of the mansion. The person who added fuel to this rumor was Bailey.

“Young master…? What on earth is all this….”

Bailey, who had entered the room for the first time in a while upon Orca’s summons, was flustered at the sight of the mess on the floor. When he witnessed the young master, whose hands and shirt were stained red, he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to prevent a shriek from escaping. If he made a scene, he might end up like Adrian.

Orca, lounging comfortably on the sofa, waved his hand with a look of annoyance to make Bailey move. Bailey, who followed his orders to wipe away the scattered glass shards and the blood that had soaked the carpet, swallowed hard. The fishy smell of blood made his spine shiver.

He went around telling the scene he had witnessed as if it were a legendary tale. With the addition of the stories about Niah walking through the hallways covered in blood, the mansion was turned upside down. Everyone prayed in unison for Orca’s “return.” It was an incident deserving of throwing the Wair family mansion, which had been peaceful day after day, into a state of chaotic terror.

Orca, eyes closed tightly, rhythmically tapped the leg he had placed over his other knee. On his face, as he waited for Niah to return slowly, there wasn’t a trace of pain or worry. He keenly picked up the sound of footsteps growing closer.

The goldfish had just reached the fourth floor where my room was. His footsteps, which he was taking little by little at a slow pace, were admirable.

As soon as he entered the room, Niah ran straight to the bathroom. Since he had listened well to the young master’s instruction to go slowly, he thought it would be fine to walk quickly in the room. Orca watched with interest as Niah rushed out after wringing out a wet towel.

The goldfish hurried over, came right up to my feet, and knelt down. He placed the medicine and clean cloth he had brought on the low table nearby and shifted his hips. His flushed face was desperate. His two hands, which he held out bravely while still sniffling, poked at the air as if urging me. He had stopped crying completely, but there was still a trace of moisture in his voice.

“Young master. Give me your hand. Okay? Hurry. Quickly….”

Orca, looking down at the whining Niah, leaned his upper body forward instead of answering. His arm, which dug into Niah’s side, brushed his back and firmly wrapped around his other side.

Niah, suddenly pulled into an embrace, flinched and let out a startled sound. Orca didn’t seem to care and hoisted him up, making him sit by his side. Niah, who had landed from the carpet onto the sofa, settled on his left side.

“Here.”

Only after moving the goldfish as he wanted did Orca place his injured hand on Niah’s lap. Niah, who had been staring at him blankly, turned his body slightly as if to face him. Using the towel he had soaked, he gently and cautiously wiped the wounded palm. While doing so, he rolled his eyes around. His gaze tilted back and forth, observing the young master, who seemed somewhat changed from the time he left to get the medicine.

Orca, who had washed off the blood and changed into new clothes before Niah arrived, leisurely enjoyed that gaze. If he had been sitting here in the same state as just before, the goldfish would surely have fainted. Even if he had managed to endure it without fainting, he would have definitely cried. Rather than spending time soothing him, it was better to admire him as he was now—puzzled while fiddling with my hand. Thanks to taking out the deeply embedded glass shards and stopping the bleeding while I was alone, I was fortunate that there was almost no blood seeping out.

“Young master…. Um, does it not hurt…?”

The goldfish asked, glancing up at me. Even though he was the one asking if I was in pain, it was the goldfish who had the tearful face.

“It hurts a lot.”

At the answer that slipped out so nonchalantly, Niah bit his lips and chewed them. Firmly believing the words of the young master, who was complaining of pain with such a shameless face, he lowered the corners of his eyebrows. Even though it was a deception lacking any sincerity, he hadn’t even thought to doubt it. He was just heartbroken.

Niah, who had readjusted the posture he had taken to face Orca, moved sideways, inch by inch. As a result, the distance that had been wide narrowed, making them sit side by side.

The goldfish slid his palm underneath the back of my hand, which was resting on his own lap. Soft skin touched mine lukewarmly. It wasn’t just his palms—his thin forearms and thighs were all pressed against me. The innocent look in his eyes as he glanced up at me was smeared with worry and distress.

“Young master. Does it hurt a lot?”

“…Yes. Like I said, it hurts a lot.”

The goldfish, having lifted the hand he was cradling up to his chest, examined the wound closely. Then, he pursed his lips into a circle and blew on it. Occasionally asking if it still hurt, he kept blowing on it for a long time. Weak and ticklish breaths passed over the torn skin. I found his devoted actions, which were completely useless for treatment, amusing.

“Oh, I brought the medicine. I asked Harriet for it,”