ORCA 32

In the meantime, the bathroom, now busy in a different way, was bustling with cheerful commotion. While rinsing off and tidying up the area around the bathtub, Niah kept his eyes fixed on the shirt Orca had left behind. He had forgotten all his worries about whether the young master was angry with him. If he had been angry, he wouldn’t have given him such a thing. It was a simple conclusion. The worry that would have normally brought tears to his eyes now felt trivial. He just wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Once finished, Niah took a towel from the shelf. His movements as he ran his hands over his wet hair and every corner of his body were impatient. Even then, his eyes remained only on the shirt resting on the sofa. After drying himself off adequately, he quickly picked it up and sniffed it. A giggle escaped him. Excitedly slipping the shirt over his bare skin, Niah bounded past the partition with a bouncy gait. The shirt, which reached his thighs, fluttered as he moved.

Niah stood before the door and looked down. Since the shirt was the only thing he was wearing, he felt a bit embarrassed, contrary to his excited heart. A breeze blew through beneath the hem of the shirt. The sensation brushing against his buttocks was soft.

His desire to get to the young master quickly mingled with the shyness of showing him such a state. He considered picking up his underwear from the basket to put on, but quickly gave up. It felt like it would be even weirder if only that part were wet.

“Hmm…. Well, I’m not naked, at least. Yes, it’s fine.”

Looking at his exposed legs while dawdling, Niah pulled the handle slowly. He poked his head out, tentatively covering his front with the towel he had been holding in one hand.

Orca, who had been listening to the hesitation of the goldfish who was lingering instead of coming right out, jumped up from his seat the moment he heard the door open. He approached the goldfish, who had stumbled out of the bathroom, and took the towel to place it over Niah’s head.

“You should dry your hair properly before coming out.”

As he rubbed the dripping hair, Niah lifted his head to meet his gaze. Pretending not to notice, Orca took his hands off the towel and folded the oversized sleeves back three or four times.

Niah stood obediently, wiggling only his toes. Orca was instantly captivated by the movement, which was imbued with shyness. His eyes swept down, licking over the thighs and calves revealed beneath the shirt hem. The bare legs reflected in the pale lighting were provocative. Blood rushed to one side.

I have truly lost my mind.

“Niah. Go back now.”

Withdrawing his persistent gaze, he stepped back half a pace diagonally to clear the way.

Niah. A servant of the Wair family mansion. Light orange curly hair that looked like it had been diluted with water. A narrow stride that scurried about. The rippling scent of wildflowers. A voice laced with tears. A soft tongue. Pleading eyes. A stealing gaze. A light body that would nestle into his arms. A bright, smiling face. Giggle sounds. Pudding-like earlobes. Fingernail-sized fins. A gentle demeanor. A thin, frail body. Blushing cheeks. Smooth skin. Scales that sparkled under the moonlight. Panting breaths. Slender fingers clutching onto him. A malfunction. A line that should not be crossed. A small, weak goldfish.

Orca did not want to kill the goldfish. But for now, he had no idea how else to handle this excitement. These unfamiliar emotions were unnecessarily overheated. A strange crack had formed over the boring peace. Therefore, he had to at least try to create distance immediately. He needed the breathing room to maintain his reason right now.

“Go to sleep.”

Orca pushed Niah across the line. Gently stroking the chin of Niah, who looked up at him with a tilted head instead of answering, he patted his back.

“It’s late at night.”

“Okay. Then I’ll come tomorrow morning.”

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

☀️🌊

Niah climbed the steep spiral staircase cautiously, shaking the moisture from his damp hair. He was wearing Orca’s shirt instead of his wet clothes. With only that one shirt draped over his fresh, clean, naked body, and a large towel covering his head, he went on his way.

The soft fabric slid gently and smoothly every time he moved his arms or lifted his legs one by one. Unlike his usual coarse clothes, it was a very high-quality material. Because of the loose size that didn’t fit his frame, it looked less like he was wearing clothes and more like he had been swallowed by them, and he had to fold the sleeves several times because they covered his entire hands—but Niah felt like he was floating on air.

Thinking it was the clothes the young master used to wear, he kept giggling. His heart, bursting with anticipation, buzzed like a honeybee hovering around a flower.

Niah stopped giggling and sniffled, twitching his nose. Even though he was clearly alone, he could smell the young master. It wasn’t the soap scent made in the mansion’s distillery, it wasn’t a fishy smell, but that pleasant scent one felt when getting close to the young master.

He felt much happier than when he bit into a pancake topped with honey, or when the young master gave him something delicious. He wished morning would come quickly. He had never felt like this before.

A feeling that couldn’t be expressed in a single word filled his heart. Niah pushed aside all his bad memories and relied only on the happy ones, becoming endlessly buoyed. As he entered his room, he even hummed a little tune, which was unusual for him.

The central sixth floor, where the room was located, had almost no foot traffic. Unless servants who were cleaning the entire mansion or looking for Niah came up on purpose, Niah used it alone. Even Niah was rarely there during the day. He had a lot of work to do from morning until evening, so he usually returned to his room only after it had grown dark.

When he left the door wide open, moonlight would stream in through the long hallway window, clearing his vision slightly. The problem was that he couldn’t leave it open because it was a place that felt quite chilly even during the day unless it was mid-summer.

He couldn’t easily get used to the silence of the darkened mansion. He would feel like he heard creaking sounds for no reason, and he couldn’t leave the door open for fear that something might jump out. The only time he wasn’t a coward was when he couldn’t stand the hunger and headed toward the lake. But tonight, it was so fine that he wasn’t even the least bit afraid. He didn’t flinch at all at sounds that would have normally startled him.

Niah left the door wide open and took out a small candle he had hidden in a corner. It was one of the ones he had saved just in case he suffered from nightmares. Today, he felt good, so for some reason, he wanted to do it. It didn’t 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 glow.

As he closed the door again, the charred shadows flickered and moved. Niah, huddled under the ceiling that sloped diagonally, tilted his head. Looking at his neatly folded clothes, his eyes rolled busily here and there, debating whether or not to change.

“Hmm, what should I do…?”

He toyed with the hem of the shirt he was wearing. The sensation of the fabric winding around his fingertips felt like soft, slippery bath-bomb bubbles. Eventually deciding to just sleep, Niah put on only his underwear under the empty space.

Lying in bed and covering himself with the blanket, he quietly watched the candle, which already had only a little bit left. The young master’s face floated up above the flickering flame. The touch of the hands that had stroked him, the feeling of lips touching an unfamiliar place, his firm skin, and the voice that had tickled his ears rushed in all at once, like a breeze coming through a narrow passageway.

Niah curled his limbs inward, intending to hide his heart, which had been pounding the whole time. It was still cold for a spring night to sleep in just a thin shirt, and since he hadn’t fully dried his damp hair, he felt a chill. But sleep did not consider such circumstances and poured over him helplessly.

Niah, who had pulled the blanket up to the top of his head, slowly closed his eyelids. As his eyes, which had been blinking slowly, closed completely, the candle, having finally run out of energy, flickered with its last flame. As if it had been waiting, the darkness quickly visited the room.

Niah fell asleep quickly while inhaling the pleasant scent. He wanted to go see the young master again soon.

Waking up early, Niah groaned. Perhaps because he had slept in thin clothing and with his hair still not fully dry, he felt a chill. His mind was groggy, and his throat was stinging. He wasn’t to the point where he couldn’t move, but he was definitely not in good condition.

“Ah, ah…. Hmm.”