ORCA 33

Orca forcibly woke Niah, who couldn’t seem to emerge from his sleep. He called Niah’s name and kneaded his cheeks before sending him into the bathroom. Before that, he had even drawn a bath himself and dissolved bath bombs in the water. But when a good while passed with no splashing sounds, he had to go back in to check. Niah was leaning against the bathtub, legs drawn up, dozing off again. Perhaps he had fallen asleep while undoing his buttons, because the pale flesh peeking through the gap in his clothes caught Orca’s eye. The dim lighting faintly illuminated the white skin. Sitting in front of him, Orca touched his forehead as if troubled.

“Niah.”

He brushed Niah’s hair back and flicked his earlobe to rouse him. Instead, Niah let out a soft, sleeping sound. Orca looked at the peacefully sleeping face. He was too dirty to be left to sleep like this, and he still hadn’t eaten.

Deciding to put him in the water first, Orca began to undo the rest of the buttons. Supporting Niah carefully so he wouldn’t fall over, he took off the shirt and set it aside. His sleeping habits were calm, so taking his clothes off was easy. The thin, delicate body was revealed in an instant.

“Niah.”

He called out once more, but the only response was an even breath. After watching for a moment, he slowly traced the flesh that had been covered. The soft, smooth skin curled against his fingertips. Following the slender neckline, he rubbed the round shoulders and swept down the muscle-less arms to entwine their fingers. After fiddling with the hand lying limply on the floor, he shifted his gaze to Niah’s waist.

He pressed his palms together flat and stroked over the mostly faded bruise. Then his hand naturally moved around to the back and slipped inside Niah’s waistband. Startled by the distinct feeling of the soft flesh, Orca glanced down at Niah. His flat chest rose and fell slowly. There was no sign of him waking. When Orca pushed his fingers in another knuckle deeper, the skin pressed in firmly.

“……”

For some reason, Orca hesitated for a moment, then decided to take off the socks first. The hand that had stealthily invaded the pants quickly withdrew and grasped an ankle. The two white socks were soon placed atop the shirt.

The goldfish moved his bare feet, rubbing them together, then curled his arms and legs in tightly. He then leaned against his knees and curled his small body into a ball. As if something was missing, his toes repeatedly curled and uncurled, wriggling. He mumbled something in his sleep and smacked his lips. He slept soundly even in the uncomfortable position. He looked ready to stay like that all night.

“Niah. Wake up.”

Even when Orca spoke right next to his ear, there was no reaction. He was sleeping as deeply as someone who had been up for several nights. Orca let out a long breath like a sigh. He had to get all his clothes off to wash him, but for some reason, he felt reluctant to touch him. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen him naked before—no, more than that, he couldn’t even understand why seeing the goldfish undressed was such a big deal. Orca’s gaze traveled down the prominent spine to the waistband of the pants. The more he looked, the more useless thoughts filled his head, and he lifted Niah up in his arms. With a great splash, water flew everywhere. His actions had become violent without him realizing it.

Niah’s sleepy eyes flew open as he flailed. It was because he had suddenly been plunged into the water. Of course, his eyes were too puffy to open very wide. Seeing the young master’s face right in front of him, Niah was startled again and his mouth fell open. His unguarded tongue slipped out slightly. Orca, feigning nonchalance, casually rubbed the tongue to tease him.

“What are you doing sleeping? Wash up and come out.”

His low request echoed calmly through the bathroom. Niah nodded in reply instead of speaking. Orca toyed with Niah’s tongue a few more times, then stroked under his chin for no reason before quickly exiting. It felt like he shouldn’t let his discomposed heart be discovered.

Niah yawned as he watched the partition where Orca had disappeared. The drowsiness that had briefly receded rushed back as soon as his surprise subsided. He sat vacantly in the warm bathtub for a moment, then drew his knees up and rubbed his eyelids. It was to wake himself up a little. He couldn’t disobey the young master’s words with the excuse of being sleepy.

The surface of the water rippled with his every movement. A slight chill ran through his body as he pulled it out of the steaming water. He wasn’t waking up, just getting cold. He slid back in and crossed his hands to rub his arms. His skin felt smooth, perhaps because of the bath bomb. The fragrance was nice and it was warm, so he felt good. He found himself wanting to go to the young master quickly.

“…Huh…”

Niah, who had been looking pleased with a languid expression from crying all day, suddenly widened his eyes. The sleepiness vanished at once and his mind became clear. He patted not just his arms but all over his body to check. His face flushed red. Only then did he realize he was half-naked.

Orca, who had been rummaging through the wardrobe in the dress room, felt embarrassed. The flustered sounds of frantic movement made him feel as if he had done something wicked. He pointlessly clenched his fist, then chose one of the softer shirts and took it out.

Not a single servant was unaware that Orca had brought Niah in the previous evening, treating him like a baby. All the servants gathered in the dining hall were barely eating, too busy stealing glances. The same was true for Niah.

“Niah, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“What? Oh, no. I’m fine, Harriet. I’m not sick.”

Harriet placed a hand on Niah’s forehead. “No fever,” she muttered, pulling his plate closer. On the plate were a few slices of boiled potato, an omelet, and lamb cutlets. Niah was just mashing the potato with his fork until Harriet urged him to eat, at which point he finally began to nibble at his food.

If asked whether he was sick, his head did in fact hurt a little. His throat was sore, and his body felt heavy and limp. But his mind was completely preoccupied with something else, pushing the pain to the back. Niah nibbled on a potato and then rubbed his lips. The slippery sensation made his cheeks turn red. It was because the medicine Orca had applied before he left the room was still there.

Niah had been in a daze since yesterday. He had washed in the young master’s bathroom, worn the young master’s shirt like pajamas, eaten the food the young master gave him, slept in the young master’s bed, washed again in the young master’s bathroom, changed into clothes the young master had picked out for him, and as if that wasn’t enough, he was here now after being seen off by the young master who had even applied medicine to his lips. At the very end, the young master had stroked his cheek and face. Nothing but ‘the young master’ came to mind. It couldn’t be helped.

It wasn’t that he’d never experienced any of this before, but for some reason, it felt strange. The young master hadn’t scolded him, just as he’d promised, nor had he kicked him out. He hadn’t received any other punishment either. In fact, he had been treated well. So he was very happy. He wondered if he was so happy that his head had gone strange. The young master seemed the same as always, but he alone felt like he had changed somewhere. The lamb cutlet, which should have been delicious, just felt hot. This was a very big problem.

Having cleared his plate without tasting a thing, Niah trotted to the vegetable patch. It was thanks to another garden servant who told him it was the day to plant spring vegetables. He had almost made a wasted trip to the greenhouse. It was suspicious that they were not only no longer tormenting him but also kindly giving him a heads-up, but he didn’t think too deeply about it. He tried his best to ignore Andrian, who occasionally sent sharp glares his way, and Pepe, who watched him from a distance as if monitoring him. His head was already so full that he had no room to worry about anything else.

The servants were all moving busily, each bringing seedlings that needed to be planted around this time, like cabbage, eggplant, and squash. Niah also got a watering can and some pre-sown tomato seedlings and found a spot in a corner of the patch. Imagining the tomatoes turning red and luscious as the weather warmed seemed to calm his restless heart. The wish that the young master would be at the mansion until then suddenly crossed his mind. He wanted to pick the prettiest, most well-ripened one and bring it to him. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted praise, but he thought he would be happy if the young master said he had raised it well.

“What’s this? …A weed?”

The area around him grew unsettled. Startled by the sudden approach of a huge presence, Niah fell back into a sitting position. His head snapped back. Frowning, Orca helped Niah sit up straight. He was about to dust off his dirt-covered bottom but decided against it and sat down beside him. He poked a seedling leaf once. Then he lightly flicked the tip of the goldfish’s nose, who was staring at him in bewilderment.

“What.”

Niah covered his nose and turned the color of a tomato for no particular reason. He had been thinking about the young master constantly, but now that he was right in front of him, his mind went blank. His heart pounded. Quickly averting his gaze, Niah rested his chin between his two drawn-up knees. His fingers, which had moved onto his insteps, fidgeted with his shoelaces. He had no idea why he felt so shy and embarrassed. He just felt mortified.

“This is, a tomato, though…”

His trailing voice pointed out his young master’s nonsense. No matter what, what was wrong was wrong.

“I think this is the tomato.”

Orca reached under the face of Niah, who was only showing him the back of his head, and tapped his forehead. His rebutting tone was teasing. He found it funny that the goldfish had been an orange when he sent him out, but had turned into a tomato by the time he found him. The tips of Niah’s ears, visible from above, turned a deeper shade of red. His fingers kept poking Niah, who had ripened early before the weather had even gotten hot.

From one end of the garden to the other, every corner of the greenhouse, the west wing with the distillery, the underground servants’ quarters.

Only after retracing his steps and checking all the places he had gone yesterday did the vegetable patch come to mind. Orca headed for the east wing at a leisurely pace. Unlike the previous evening when he had frantically searched, his movements were relaxed. His shoes tapped lightly on the path.

He walked as if on a stroll along the mansion’s long wall, his hearing on high alert. Soon, the voices of several people merged into one and rang in his ears. Seeing as the talk was of seedlings and seeds, it seemed he wouldn’t have to wander any further.

He thought he was pretty good at hide-and-seek. Not so much in finding quickly, but in the sense that he always found them in the end. He didn’t particularly want to use this talent, but to avoid it, it seemed he needed the goldfish’s cooperation.

The premonition that Niah might hide somewhere like this every day and be out of sight was not a pleasant one. It would be easier to find him if he chattered away, but the goldfish mostly kept his mouth shut. At most, he would mutter to himself that something was cute, or pretty, or hum quietly.

Even that was often cut off, so it wasn’t much help. When he had a rough idea of the location, he could find him by guessing, but it was difficult when he had no information at all, like now. Just yesterday, it had taken him quite a while to find him.

He wondered if he should just keep him in a fishbowl. Keeping a goldfish barely the size of two knuckles in a lake was quite a hassle. Finding him and taking care of him were both chores.

He would send him out clean, but he’d come back filthy; he’d let him go after filling his belly, but he’d be hungry when he returned; when he was nearby, Niah was busy watching him, and when he wasn’t, Niah was busy watching the others; not only did Niah not listen, but he didn’t trust him at all, so he had to practically beg to clear up his suspicions; and he’d gone and chewed on his healed lips until they were torn again. And on top of all that, the way he smiled vapidly and acted shy was quite a sight.

Continuing his disjointed thoughts, Orca quickened his pace slightly, then stopped abruptly. He was about to turn a corner when he let out a deep sigh. A dry wash of his face followed as a bonus. The servants’ voices buzzed noisily just a few steps away. Niah’s voice, as expected, was not among them.

Orca took a moment to compose his breathing. He found himself pathetic for complaining like this over a single servant. His childhood nanny hadn’t even looked after him this way. It seemed the real spectacle wasn’t the goldfish, but himself.

But he had no intention of stopping. It was too late now, and he didn’t feel like it anyway. He planned to act as he pleased until the end of summer. He had already come too far to turn back on his decision. Whether the goldfish’s loss and memory would become his punishment, or if it would strike him as something else, would only be known by paying the price of the time to come. It was impossible to gauge before letting it flow by. So, the only thing to do now was to feast on and savor the parts he wanted to taste.

He schooled his pathetic expression and started walking again. With a composed demeanor, he scanned the area for Niah. The pale orange hair came into view at once. It now felt strange not to recognize it immediately. This too, he found pathetic about himself.

The goldfish was squatting in a corner of the patch, busily fiddling with something. He wriggled diligently, unaware that he was approaching. His focused mouth was puckered like a bird’s beak. While he was still clumsy when brewing tea, his handling of the unidentified greens looked practiced. Without realizing it, Orca quieted his footsteps and crept closer.

“What’s this? …A weed?”

The goldfish couldn’t hide his flustered state. For some reason, he turned the color of coral. His eyes met Orca’s, then quickly avoided them and fixed on the ground. He played with his shoelaces, growing redder and redder, getting shy all by himself. Then he opened his mouth, stammering. Seeing that clumsy sight made his carefully composed face turn pathetic again.

“This is, a tomato, though…”

In the end, turning as red as a tomato and correcting the name of the ‘weed’ was so like the goldfish. The goldfish was adept at distinguishing between similar-looking things, be they weeds or flowers. It made him wonder if things that all looked the same to his eyes looked especially different to the goldfish.

If he just listened quietly from the side, Niah would explain in meticulous detail when to plant something, when and what kind of flowers it blooms, how to manage it, how often and how much water to give it for it to grow well, and even what fragrance it would have when in full bloom.

Among those, the stories about how one plant likes to get some air and another likes to bask in the sun were, in fact, a bit absurd. He couldn’t care less about the preferences of plants, but he could be certain of one thing: the goldfish loved taking care of them that way. Normally he would be hesitant and speak like a starfish, but at times like this, he became a swift chatterbox.

His plants were always an exception to his patchy memory. Listening to him explain the cuteness of the lilacs that bloomed last spring, it seemed even his memory loss had standards. He didn’t know if the goldfish himself was accurately aware of his own nature, but he had reached one conclusion in the past few days. That conclusion became utterly useless just yesterday.

Minor forgetfulness or the fraying of old memories could be brushed off as the goldfish’s nature, but the rest was not. The goldfish forgot too much, and too quickly. The word ‘erased’ seemed more fitting than ‘forgot’. The topics of his excited chatter were also extremely limited and narrow. They were mainly minor incidents that happened in the greenhouse and garden, and sometimes in the lake forest. He had answered his questions properly less than half the time.

When asked about his past before coming to the वेयर house, or the reason for his small scars, why he had been starving when they first met at the lake, or the reason he’d been scolded, his mouth would clamp shut and he’d say nothing. He would just drag his feet after answering that he didn’t know. The goldfish would then become sullen and look on the verge of tears. The only thing to do before he actually cried was to ask a question that would make him chatter happily.

“Doesn’t this one need water?”

“The snake plant only needs water sometimes. If you give it too much because it’s pretty, it’ll die. And you don’t water it at all when it’s cold. Instead, you have to make sure it gets enough sunlight and air. I think this spot is the best in the young master’s room. If you raise it well, it blooms pretty flowers, but this one is still young so later, um… you’ll only be able to see them after it grows up a lot, much later. It’s hard to make them bloom, though. But I can raise it well. Oh, the ones in the greenhouse might bloom this year, no. Maybe next year. They bloom in the summer. They’re white and pretty. So, if the young master… if the young master could come to see them too, that would be nice…”

When Niah said the word ‘later’, he would always trail off. He would just look up at his young master with eyes full of anticipation, not pestering him to say what he wanted to hear. Then Orca would pretend not to notice and ask about something else.

“But why a snake plant?”

“What? Ummm… just, because it’s cute…”

“You secretly brought it just because it’s cute? Without even sleeping.”

As he asked back teasingly, he lightly brushed Niah’s earlobe. Niah felt a little wronged. It had taken him a great deal of deliberation, and he had only been able to muster the courage because Harriet told him every day that it was okay. Of course, his original plan was to just leave the pot and go, not to see the young master, but it still required great courage. He was just disappointed that the young master had no idea of his circumstances.

“Because the young master told me not to come… but I wanted to see you, so… Harriet also said it was okay to, ah.”

Niah hastily shut his mouth. His hands naturally clung to Orca. Worried that Harriet might get in trouble because of him, he immediately denied it.

“No, that’s not it,”