ORCA 35

Of course, he couldn’t guarantee that the goldfish would have been safe from him no matter what it was born as under the sea. This goldfish was an unlucky fish that had been born as a weak, harmless, and slow goldfish in some river, yet had still managed to catch his eye. The bland imaginings continued.

Orca was inwardly delighted as he watched the goldfish, which flapped about every time he poked it. His flat lips didn’t give anything away. He brought his finger to the round dirt mark on its nose once more. Its lips were pouting as if to say it was embarrassed. Then it wrinkled its nose. Its lower lip tucked in. Its cheeks twitched as if it were chewing on it. He could see its throat bobbing significantly.

Ah, darn it.

“I-I’ll go get some water!”

Niah, unable to hide his tearful face, shot up. He grabbed the watering can and hurried away from Orca. Because of that, the mole’s house collapsed with a rumble. He was embarrassed. The young master was always cool, but he was always like a fool.

He came to hate the version of himself from yesterday, the one who had thrown a tantrum, saying the young master didn’t need him, that he only scolded him. It was natural that he wasn’t needed. Even if he were the young master, he wouldn’t have needed someone like him either. Running to the water pump, he dabbed at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. He didn’t want to be caught.

The orange was placed in a small circle not too far away. He could hear the sound of water gushing and a sniffle. He wasn’t sobbing, but a few drops had probably fallen.

He got up and followed without lingering. It seemed his ability to learn was gradually disappearing along with the goldfish’s. He found his own situation ridiculous, debating whether or not he should be glad that this time the goldfish had said it was going somewhere and would be back, instead of just running away. If someone were to come and laugh at him, he would have no room to argue.

Niah stuck his hand deep into the watering can as it filled with water. Perhaps because of the cold water, the burning heat soon subsided. He scrubbed his dirt-covered hands, composing his ragged breath. His heart, which had been crumpled with resentment toward the young master and self-hatred, gradually smoothed out.

After letting out a big breath, Niah turned off the tap. He planned to go back as if nothing had happened and plant the rest of the seedlings. The young master did have a wonderful ability to know everything, but he thought he probably hadn’t been caught this time. The place where the young master was and the water pump were far apart, and he had run away before the tears started, so he probably didn’t know. The excuse of getting water also seemed plausible.

Niah tried hard to reassure himself. Yes, that’s right. It’s okay. He even agreed with himself inwardly. He still had a lot to do to be down in the dumps. There was no time to play around if he wanted to plant the remaining seedlings, set up the stakes, and secure them with string. He wanted to finish planting the tomatoes before the afternoon. That way, he would have time to follow the young master to his room or the study.

He had to go do some work, brew some tea, and also watch the young master read. If he finished his morning chores late, he was disappointed that he couldn’t watch the young master at a leisurely pace. He liked being in the vegetable patch, but he actually liked being alone with the young master more. He was less nervous when the other servants weren’t around.

Andrian no longer came to see him or acknowledge him, but Pepe still frightened him. Occasionally, when their eyes met, he would feel a chill. He had a ghostly face. He looked just like a dead person. His gaze was such that you couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or through you.

Looking at Pepe felt similar to having a nightmare. His body would stiffen up with a different kind of tension than when he was nervous around the young master, and he couldn’t move. It was especially bad when they met alone. He was crushed by an immense fear he had never felt before. The fact that he didn’t do him any harm was even scarier.

He wanted to finish the work in the vegetable patch quickly because he was bound to run into Pepe there. It was fine in the huge garden or the greenhouse, where for some reason everyone but him and the young master disappeared, but the vegetable patch was different. The patch was spacious, but not as much as the garden, and unlike the greenhouse, there were no trees, so the view was wide open. Perhaps because of that, whenever he happened to look up, he would find himself trapped in Pepe’s line of sight. That gaze gave him the creeps.

Because of this, he had been a little reluctant to come to the vegetable patch lately. He felt sorry for the plants growing here, but it couldn’t be helped. The immediate big problem was the tomatoes. They needed to be cared for every day without fail, but he was hesitant to come alone. But he didn’t have the guts to ask the young master every time he came.

There were no proper chairs to sit on or places to escape the sun in the vegetable patch, and if he were to be refused, he would surely become dejected. He knew he shouldn’t be disappointed, but it was obvious he would be disappointed and sad. He was becoming more and more greedy by the day.

Niah let out a sigh he couldn’t hold back and wracked his brain. Before worrying about coming to the vegetable patch tomorrow, the first thing to do was to tend to the bed. He couldn’t leave it looking like a chocolate cake with a bite taken out of it. After finishing the work, he would follow the young master to his room, and in the afternoon, he would prune the garden shrubs.

Having decided on the order, Niah gripped the handle of the watering can with both hands. Just as he was about to stand up, a large presence strode toward him. The shadow cast from behind him ate up his surroundings. The shadow passed over his head and settled next to him, a hand’s breadth away.

“I wasn’t slacking off. I was just about to go.”

An unasked-for excuse immediately poured out. Wondering if he had dawdled too long, he bit his lip without realizing it. The delicate skin, not yet healed, easily broke and blood pooled. Niah didn’t even feel the sting and just looked up at Orca. Glancing past the thoroughly intimidated goldfish, Orca turned on the water. The traces of the mole’s house were washed away.

“It’s true… I was really about to go…”

His voice, smaller than before, was swallowed by the stream of water hitting the ground. It was a volume that anyone other than Orca would not have been able to hear. He washed the dirt off cleanly, then turned the tap so the water flowed in a trickle. Then he gently rubbed Niah’s lip. The lip that had been chewed on was released and twitched.

“Again.”

Orca swept over the reddened skin where blood had welled up a couple of times. Only then did Niah realize he had been gnawing on his lip, and he couldn’t say anything, just fidgeted with the watering can handle. His upward gaze fell. A dejected air settled on his eyelashes. He had promised not to do it, but he had broken the promise yesterday and today. It wasn’t that he had forgotten; he had done it out of habit, so being scolded felt a little unfair.

“I wasn’t scolding you.”

Thinking he had said his thoughts out loud, he flinched and hunched his shoulders. Fortunately, his mouth had been tightly shut. While Niah was startled and then relieved, Orca rinsed his hands in the running water. After washing away the blood, he wiped off the grains of dirt that were left in a circle on his nose.

“I wasn’t calling you pathetic.”

Niah acted as if he were opening his eyes for the first time in his life at the gently added clarification that wasn’t a clarification. His clenched fist let go of the watering can and went to his knee. He had no memory of hearing such words. At least, not within the limits of what he could recall. Niah stole a glance at him as secretly as possible.

Orca swept back the curly hair that was full of curiosity. The messy hair settled down, revealing his forehead. His hand, after caressing the eyebrow, came down to cup his cheek and make him look straight at him. The damp palm stuck to him.

“Are you still sad?”

Niah clenched his fist even tighter. His mind, which had become distant from the gentle touch, snapped back. The tension broke and his mouth fell open. It was as if magic had happened and meringue had been spread under his feet, making it feel so fluffy. His tongue was sweet, as if he had downed a whole bottle of honey. His whole body, which was pounding, grew hot as if sunlight had been poured all over it. He wondered if this was what it felt like to become a tomato. It was as if someone had poured water all over him, who had taken root in dry soil. He didn’t know what to call this feeling of such fullness.

“No… I’m not sad. I’m not sad, young master.”

Orca’s lips twitched subtly. He liked the resolute, punctuated answer. He naturally caressed the nape of his neck and fiddled with his earlobe. He even scratched under the chin of Niah, who was engrossed in looking at him.

After a final tap on the cheek, he stood up and picked up the watering can. He immediately turned and walked toward the vegetable patch. Left behind, Niah stared blankly at his back, then suddenly straightened his posture. Then he scrambled to his feet.

“Then come here.”

He trotted after him and stood by his side. He didn’t look ahead, only at Orca. His chest tickled with an overwhelming emotion that swelled uncontrollably. It was the same shyness, but it wasn’t scary. No, maybe it was scary. Anyway, something was strange. Suddenly, his body felt light. His steps were fluttering.

Does the young master know what this is?

He remembered himself in a narrow, dark nightmare. He lit the way a step ahead with a short candle. The flame drove away the darkness for a moment, then quickly died out. He became the shadow of the scattered light. He closed his eyes to fall asleep, pretending to be a part of the pitch-black nightmare. He lit the candle in his head, hoping that a square of morning would come through the crack in the door when he woke up again. In the most remote part of the mansion, in the closet under the stairs just below the top floor, deep darkness and a short light coexisted in the room.

Niah fervently chased after him.

Orca’s bed could fit about ten Niahs lying on their sides. It was much larger than a normal bed so that Orca, an orca, would have no discomfort using it. If he were in his beastman form, the posts would break and it would collapse with a thud, but when he was human, it was wide and long enough to roll around freely. As for a goldfish, specifically a pearlscale like Niah, it could easily hold at least five hundred of them.

Because of this, changing the sheets or making the bed was no different from arduous labor. It was only somewhat manageable if two people worked on it every morning. Tasks like cleaning the bathroom and the room were also assigned to three or four people in rotation each time. Everything in the Waer house was big, wide, and high, so the work was that much more strenuous. The cleaning and maintenance of the mansion was a repetitive task all year round, and although the work itself was simple, it required twice the effort compared to other noble families.

Nevertheless, the only person who was currently Orca’s direct servant was Niah. After a few servants and Bailey were dismissed from their duties in just a few days, he took on all the work by himself. Although he had been worked like a mansion handyman, taking on chores like washing dishes, doing laundry, and cleaning dirty and narrow places as if they were his own, serving Orca was not a familiar task for Niah, who was originally a garden servant.

After Orca returned, he was spared the handyman treatment, but he was just as busy. He had to work as a garden servant and also attend to him, so he bustled around all day. Perhaps because of this, his work hours were erratic every day. It had long become commonplace for him to do in the evening what he was supposed to do in the morning.

The fortunate thing was that Orca didn’t seem to care much. He left him alone no matter what he did and when. In fact, he sometimes forbade him from doing anything at all. As soon as he came back with a washed rag, or just as he was about to grab a cleaning brush, if his name was called, Niah often couldn’t do any work.

The tasks that were originally supposed to be done daily were postponed to every other day, or every three days. On the days he insisted that he had to do it, Orca would watch him and then tell him to just do a rough job and be done with it. Except when he was taking care of plants, he tried to control him as he pleased. Sometimes, he didn’t hesitate to offer the kindness of helping out.

Niah didn’t dislike it. How could he dislike it? He liked being with the young master, and he was grateful that he, a servant, was being helped. While he was happy, he was also scared. He was afraid that he would get used to the happy moments and never be able to return to his original life. If the things that were okay became painful, and the things he could endure became unbearable, then what should he do? He had no idea. Only wishes that should not be spoken out loud piled up.

Anyway, the current problem was this huge bed. Having barely tucked in one side of the sheet, Niah let out a ragged breath he had been holding. The clean new sheet felt like a white monster he had to fight and defeat. He had no idea what was in it, but no matter how much he struggled, it was impossible to lift the mattress pad. It was like a fluffy rock. It was incomparable to the weight of a flowerpot. And to top it all off, it was already night.

“Move over.”

Orca, who had been watching his struggling back from a chair at the tea table, stood close. In reality, changing the bedsheets was always his job. It was a chore he had never done in his life and never thought he would do, but it had recently become a pastime. There was also the nominal reason that it was better in many ways to do something rather than letting his strength go to waste.

Only Niah, who had been pushed aside, felt upset and fidgeted. It was because he wanted to make up for yesterday’s mistake, but it wasn’t going as he wished.

Orca went around the bed, tucking in the sheet. The master of the mansion worked more skillfully than the servant he employed. He was more agile and dexterous than the servants. It was a ridiculous situation, but he didn’t particularly care. In the meantime, Niah had brought several large pillows and a duvet the size of his own body. Feeling sorry, he was carefully spreading it out when the mattress pad swayed and he was suddenly pulled.

An awkward scene unfolded before Niah, who had been pulled between Orca’s thighs. Him standing and the young master sitting was by no means an unfamiliar situation. But he had never looked down at him from this close before. The young master was looking up at him, and he didn’t know where or how to place his gaze, so he looked up at the ceiling.

“Let me see your waist.”

“What?”

His raised eyelids came down at once.

“Your waist.”

Orca let go of the wrist he was holding. Niah fidgeted with his shirt, hesitating. Even in the midst of that, he was admiring his young master’s face and having shameless thoughts. The young master’s eyebrows were handsome, his nose was well-shaped, and the line of his lips was elegant. Put together, it was even more dashing. It seemed the dim light of the lamp could be turned off. Niah, who couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye, swallowed hard.

It would be nice to touch it once. But I can’t, right?

“Hurry.”

His wildly darting eyes finally stopped. Orca reached behind Niah with the hand he had placed on the bed and pulled his thighs. The two thin legs were each grasped in one hand. He squeezed them, not painfully, as if to urge him. The distance between them completely disappeared.

He was by no means used to considering a servant’s feelings or mood. The same was true even if he substituted someone other than a servant. There was no need to learn such behavior. He had always lived among a crowd that prostrated themselves so as not to displease him. He had reigned, not submitted. He had stood side-by-side, but never below. This was separate from the education he had received on the etiquette, decorum, and the prestige of the Waer house that he was supposed to uphold. The basics were to be polite but not be looked down upon, and to be not arrogant but to monopolize the upper hand.

It was ridiculous that he, who found the shackles of the ‘Waer’ surname annoying, was upholding the family’s prestige, but it was an undeniable fact. Within that noble frame, he had never once looked up to anyone. This was on a different level from him having the authority to live as the captain of the Orcus brigade even if he left the family.

For him, for whom this position was a daily routine, doing things he wouldn’t normally do while bearing the Waer name was awkward and embarrassing. But from the moment he had heard the inner thoughts of the goldfish, who had been pushed to the brink by his thoughtless words and actions, he had felt a constant sense of unease. How could he be so weak? His sick insides were mushy and rotten. Only the shell was smooth and sleek. Because of that, he had to suppress the desire to treat him roughly until he was a complete mess. The disorderly and chaotic fantasies remained just fantasies.

Orca waited for Niah without forcibly looking. He just gently kneaded the thighs he was holding. They had gained some flesh compared to before, but they were still thin legs. He wondered how much he had to feed him to make them plump. It seemed that the bigger problem was not what he ate, but that he rolled around in every field there was. If he told him not to, he wouldn’t, but he could already picture his pouting face, so he couldn’t stop him. It would only make him feel unfairly treated again.

Niah fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, lifting it and putting it down. It was a place he had shown several times, but he was suddenly so shy that his arm wouldn’t go up readily. The faint pressure he felt on his thighs also bothered him. If he had been grabbed painfully, he would have lifted his shirt without hesitation, but the touch was only gentle. He would squeeze and release, and sometimes his hand would slip down and touch the back of his knee. A tingling sensation ran from his toes to the top of his head.

It felt like lightning would strike any moment, so he couldn’t stand it and quickly bared his skin. This was more urgent than being shy. A sliver of his flat stomach was revealed above the pants that hung on his hips. Orca put one hand into the gap of the lifted hem without warning. His startled stomach muscles tensed up.

His thick, long fingers and wide palm moved back and forth between his stomach and lower back. They swept under his ribs, up his spine, then rubbed his shoulder blades and came down. With his whole hand, he also caressed the belly fat near his navel.