ORCA 27

Niah, curled up, began to refasten his shoes, which had been put on crookedly. The only way out was to hurry.

Orca’s reaction to seeing this was simple. He was just irritated. He was displeased by everything: the way Niah groveled before someone other than him, and the way he tried to leave without permission.

Is he out of his mind?

Unpleasant emotions surged fiercely.

Orca opened his mouth, watching Niah sitting on the floor. His sharp tone struck like a row of razor-sharp teeth.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Niah, who had been frantically fumbling with his shoelaces to no avail, wanted to burst into tears. He was terrified of the young master, who seemed angry again, and terrified of Luan, who had appeared so suddenly—there was nothing he wasn’t afraid of. He had to go quickly if he wanted to be scolded even a little less. But if he was going to be hated by the young master, he didn’t want to go at all. He would rather be scolded many times over.

However, a large portion of his work remained. He still had to finish the repotting and clear the space for the new flowers. If he didn’t finish everything this evening, he would be left alone until late at night or early the next morning.

He knew that, but his head spun with the thought that he wanted to keep being with the young master. Not knowing what to do, tears leaked out little by little. He felt stupid. No matter how hard he tried, he was just a stupid goldfish. He was as useless as a pot with a broken base.

As the suffocating situation repeated as if he were back at the beginning, Orca sighed. Leaving the sobbing Niah alone for the moment, he cast his gaze toward Luan. Luan, chilled by his piercing glare, immediately lowered her head.

Orca stiffened his expression further. He tapped the table sharply so she would understand, as she showed no signs of leaving. With an annoyed flick of his head, Luan took the hint, quickly setting down the dinner she had brought from the trolley. Orca, who waited silently while she put everything down, waved his hand dismissively, shooing her out. Her gaze, full of questions, lingered on Niah until the very last moment the door closed.

Once out of the room, Luan hurried down the fourth-floor corridor with rapid strides. The hallway, empty save for herself, felt ominous for some reason. She looked back every few steps, quickening her pace more and more. She nearly tripped, but she didn’t stop, pouring all her strength into getting further away.

Feeling that the presence outside had completely vanished, Orca spoke in a calm voice. He was troubled by how he should educate a goldfish that lacked any capacity for learning.

“Come here, Niah.”

Niah, who had been sobbing breathlessly while curled up, lifted his head cautiously at Orca’s call. After a moment’s hesitation, he knelt on the floor and slowly crawled forward. In doing so, his loosely worn shoes tumbled across the carpet.

Niah crawled between the young master’s legs and naturally rubbed his cheek against his thigh. Orca looked down at that round, small orange with a look of disbelief. It seemed he had already forgotten his stubborn insistence on not coming near because of the fishy smell.

“Niah. Exactly how many times a day are you going to cry?”

At the sight of the goldfish gripping his thigh tightly and rubbing his cheek against him, his displeasure vanished. It was instantaneous. It was separate from how absurd he found it that Niah would grovel or cry for others, or try to run away without permission. He was certain that this weak, fragile attitude, at least, would be shown only to him. The fact that the goldfish wanted to act so spoiled compared to how he treated the servant named Luan was proof.

The goldfish sniffled repeatedly, trying to force back his sobs. In between the whimpers, his calls for Orca were mixed in, almost like a plea. His submerged voice was endlessly muffled, perhaps from crying so long, or perhaps from just having woken up.

“Young master…. Young master, ugh…. Young masteeeer….”

“You making me feel like the wronged one, you know.”

Niah could not stop his tears because, no matter how much he rubbed against him, the hand that used to stroke him did not reach out. He turned his head the other way, leaning his cheek against the sofa, and stared at the young master’s handsome hand resting quietly.

Orca knew everything but did not give Niah what he wanted. Niah, unable to stop, let his tears fall in endless drops. He just fidgeted with his fingers for no reason.

“Young master….”

Then, his fingers, which had moved hesitantly, brushed the sofa before finally reaching out, little by little. Niah, flinching to himself, touched Orca’s fingernails slightly. Still, there was no returning reaction.

Fear and sorrow surged up from deep within his body. If he were hated by the young master, he would have nowhere left to go. The young master had clearly, clearly said he would protect him, but a doubt bloomed that maybe that wasn’t true.

In any case, his own memory was always uncertain. It was possible that everything was a delusion. It wouldn’t be strange if the young master stroking him, calling his name, and treating him kindly were all fantasies he had fabricated.

He was someone who couldn’t even properly recall things from two or three months ago unless he struggled to remember them for a long time. Occasionally, when his condition wasn’t good, he would forget everything that happened just hours or minutes ago. But if all of this really was just his delusion and misunderstanding, he felt he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“I was wrong. I was wrong…. I won’t do it again. It’s the truth. Really, now, sob….”

Niah, having risen from the position he was leaning in, brought both hands together. His ten fingers, loosely intertwined, fluttered about desperately every time his palms crossed. The distrust of himself overflowing in his head drove Niah into a corner. Having reached a point where he couldn’t judge anything properly, the only option he could manage to pull up was to beg blindly.

Niah threw himself into the mud voluntarily. Orca’s expression turned menacing.

“Forgive me…. I’ll work hard. I won’t forget, and I’ll help with other things, too. I won’t cause any more trouble, so, so…. Please forgive me. Please, I beg you, Luan…. No, wait, Pepe…. No, that’s not it…. Uh…, uh….”

His unfocused eyes stared at Orca. He couldn’t distinguish what he was saying, who he was with, or why things had turned out this way. His mind was foggy. The shattered fragments were scattered recklessly, fluttering in a mess.

In the midst of this, Niah, who couldn’t stop rubbing his pressed palms together and kept trailing off, gradually shrank away. His entire body ached as if he had been beaten by someone. Suddenly, he grew anxious that a scream calling him an idiot might fly at him.

“Niah, look at me.”

Despite Orca’s call, Niah only shrank away more and more, failing to offer the appropriate answer or action Orca wanted.

“Now.”

Caught by the nape of the neck, Niah’s gaze rose again. Orca leaned his upper body down, pressing himself tightly against Niah until there was no gap left. His left hand slowly stroked Niah. The cloth wrapped around his right hand was cumbersome. If he had known this would happen, he should have wounded his forearm instead of his palm; it was a disaster.

The goldfish’s eyes reflected him, yet they also didn’t. Orca was annoyed, thinking he should have just soothed him as he wanted and left the torment for later. He couldn’t understand why he was so enraged. He didn’t want to see him begging while rambling apologies out of habit.

“Why are you taking the punishment by yourself, hmm?”

Orca, who had been lifting his right hand not knowing what to do, finally gave up. The cloth he had tried so hard to wrap with clumsy skill hung limply, as if it would unravel. Instead of stroking his neck, he grabbed Niah’s thin waist and pulled him in to hug him. Regardless of whether Niah struggled or not, he fixed him firmly, lifted him up, and seated him right on his left thigh. As if that weren’t enough, he pulled him into a tight embrace.

Niah, who was terrified not knowing what was what, struggled to escape, flailing his arms and legs. Orca held the small body that fit perfectly into his embrace with both arms and applied slight pressure. It didn’t take long to stop the fidgeting.

The goldfish trembled, just as he had when they first met at the lake. No, back then, he had at least recognized him; now, the situation was rather like the one in the vegetable garden.