ORCA 28

The goldfish, who had been calling out, “Young master, young master,” just a few minutes ago, had changed his attitude in an instant. Orca found it audacious. He wanted to split open the goldfish’s head to observe just what was inside that caused his attitude to flip-flop so rapidly.

The goldfish, now stiffened, had become quiet, but he did not lean against Orca as he usually did. He acted as if Orca were a stranger he was meeting for the first time, looking past him rather than at him. It was impossible to tell where he was looking. Eventually, he averted his gaze entirely. Displeased, Orca pressed down on Niah’s head, forcing him to lean against his shoulder. A body, stiff enough to be mistaken for a wooden statue, pressed against him, trembling minutely.

“Niah. …Niah. Niah….”

Orca repeated his name over and over until Niah gathered his wits. He knew by instinct that this was not something that could be solved all at once just by urging him. The helpless pain, layered and accumulated over a long time, revealed a presence so certain that it would be difficult to miss.

Orca lowered his lips onto the round crown of Niah’s head, where a bump rose about a span below his chin. When he pulled the still-unsettled Niah tightly into an embrace and whispered, “Niah,” once more, clumsy emotions thumped against his heart and suddenly reared their heads. They were by no means practiced sensations for him. They could not be defined by any daring word.

It was a type of error that bore the pronunciation of “Niah.”

Drawn in by the warmth seeping in over a long time, Niah subconsciously burrowed into Orca’s embrace. In the process, he pulled his legs, which had been dangling off the sofa, into a tight cluster. Niah became as round as an egg.

Orca shifted the position of his arms to match the movement of Niah shrinking his already small frame even smaller. He enclosed and held Niah like a massive fence.

As if the cold of deep winter had passed and spring had arrived with sprouting buds, a gentle energy flowed from his fingertips, from his toes, up his calves, along his shoulder line, and from the crown of his head to the depths of his chest. A stream of unclear longing, steeped in the warmth of human body temperature, took root of its own accord and blossomed wildly.

It was as if Niah had glimpsed some part of his past, which had long since been painted pitch-black, in the brightest of colors. It was something from a long time ago, a moment he could not remember. Only then did the tender, firm voice calling his name reach him. The gentle warmth enveloping his entire body breathed life into Niah’s pupils, which had grown dim. Before he could even try to hold it back, a sob burst out of him.

“Ugh, ughhh…. Young master… Young masteeer…. I was wrong, I was wrong….”

The goldfish nestled into him, squirming with shallow breaths. At the same time, his slender fingers gripped Orca’s shirt, trembling. Seeing him lean in with his full weight brought Orca an amusement he found reassuring. He had been worried about what might happen if Niah treated him like a stranger forever.

The thought that the memories so clear to himself could simply evaporate within the goldfish left him feeling truly wretched. He had never felt this kind of emotion before. It was different from simply boiling over with heat. It felt as if a harpoon, well-forged by fire, was being driven into his epidermis. For the influence of a goldfish who was at most the length of two of Orca’s finger joints, it was quite threatening.

“Young master, please, sob…. Please don’t hate me. I will listen well….”

Orca knew it would be better to swallow the goldfish right now while he was busy apologizing for faults he hadn’t even asked about. If he just got rid of him from his sight, there would be no reason to feel uselessly angry. He knew that, but even knowing it, his reason was overridden by instinct. Or perhaps, his instinct was suppressing his reason.

From the beginning, his instincts had been focused on eliminating things that bothered him. But now, he could not judge it rashly. He couldn’t easily determine if it was really the goldfish he wanted to get rid of, and therefore whether his instinct was telling him to swallow the goldfish. It was ambiguous what was instinct and what choice was a rational judgment. His own heart felt as if it belonged to someone else. The more he tried to fathom it, the more confused he became.

It was a result foreseen the moment he chose to stay in the mansion longer. Ever since then, the boundary between instinct and reason had been unclear.

“Niah. What did I even do to make you cry like this?”

Orca gripped Niah so tightly it was as if he might crush him. This, too, was a clear error.

Once the commotion subsided, it was already night. Upon Orca’s command, Niah entered the bathroom and stood there doing nothing for a while. He felt disoriented. Only then, belatedly, did he feel along the wall to turn on the light. The interior, which had been dark and reliant only on the moonlight coming through the window, was dyed with an orange glow with a click.

Niah stood behind the partition that blocked the entrance from the bathtub and watched the ceiling, which had brightened into a hazy color. The surroundings were so silent that the sound of his own breathing felt loud. His head felt numb.

Suddenly, he patted his cheeks and moved his steps behind the partition. There was work he had to do first instead of just standing there.

Having filled the bathtub full of water, Niah sat on the floor, pulling his limbs inward. It was a bathtub large enough to fit ten people. A misty steam rose from the appropriately warm water. Niah blew a breath, whoosh, at the haze-like steam for no reason and pulled his knees in tightly. Resting his chin on top of them, he wiggled the toes hidden inside his white socks.

With his fingertips, he traced the square tile borders on the floor. Not knowing what else to do, he killed time quietly. When he turned his head to rest his temple—rather than his chin—against his knees, the night that had settled over the mansion came into view at once. For some reason, he felt a little tense, his heart thumping thump-thump.

One entire wall of the bathroom was glass. Niah swallowed a dry lump in his throat while looking at the dense forest and the star-studded sky. It felt as if the young master’s body heat was still enveloping his entire body. He felt a strange sensation. His chest felt warm and itchy. He felt like he might laugh, and he felt like he might cry. He had eaten a lot of a delicious dinner, so he was clearly full, but he also felt hungry. A severe thirst followed.

As far as he could remember, it was an incredibly strange feeling he had never experienced in his life. It felt as if someone had grabbed his heart very tightly and would not let go. If it were possible, he wanted to be held by the young master once more, just like before.

This was the first time Niah had ever waited for Orca. Although he had done similar things every morning and evening under the guise of helping with a bath, he had always left the bathroom after just drawing the water. Because he had come straight out through the door connecting the bathroom to the hallway, just as Bailey had taught him, it was difficult to say he had actually assisted with the bath.

He had been taught that he should only go back and forth through the door connecting to the hallway without going through the room, but Niah had knocked on Orca’s bedroom door first whenever he went in. That was so he could see the young master, even if only for a moment. Walking slowly on purpose to see the young master’s face many times before going to the bathroom had been Niah’s daily routine for the past few days.

After leaving the bathroom, he would go to prepare tea before breakfast in the morning, and in the evening, he would go to finish his remaining chores or, when there was time, always go to sleep to make up for lost rest. Orca, too, had not given Niah any particular instructions.

“Don’t go. Wait.”

That was how it had been, at least, until this morning, before he heard those words.

Niah, who had been blankly staring at the scenery outside the window, turned his head in the opposite direction of the glass window. Then, he stared fixedly at the partition that stood tall, blocking the entrance. He wished the young master would come quickly, yet he also hoped he would come slowly.

Niah could not keep still due to a vague, inexplicable tension. He wiggled his toes repeatedly, moving them back and forth. His heart was still beating thump-thump.

Orca, who had sent Niah into the bathroom, immediately called for another servant to clear the empty dishes. His eyes had remained closed the entire time the servant disappeared from the fourth-floor corridor, trolley in tow. He had been focusing only on the sound of the water hitting the bathtub, and after the water ceased, he heard a strange swish-swish sound.

Orca, who had been so preoccupied with Niah, straightened the back that had been leaning against the sofa and opened his eyes. It felt as if he could still feel a light weight on his empty thighs. He slowly ruminated on the situation from earlier.

“Ugh, young master…. Young master, sob, I was wrong, I was wrong….”