ORCA 40

Pepe’s touch as he tended to the pond was filled with more devotion than ever. He had heard that not only the Wair family members living at the town house, but also other noble families would be attending the party. A hope blossomed within him that if he could just impress them, he might be able to move his residence to the Wair family’s town house.

If it came down to it, he didn’t care if he was hired by a different family instead of the Wairs. In his current state of mind, it felt like anywhere would be fine as long as he could escape this place. He was a skilled gardener, and aristocrats tended to put quite a lot of effort into making their gardens look magnificent. Therefore, it wasn’t an entirely futile wish. Then again, he wondered what could be worse than dying.

As Pepe smirked with a sinister look on his face, those nearby exchanged glances. They suspected he had finally gone mad, as he had been depressed ever since the young master returned. Seeing a smiling face with eyes like chopped-up fish sent a chill down their spines. Because it was somehow a little terrifying, people began to leave one by one.

Pepe didn’t care at all; he busied his hands, quickly tidying the pond. His desire to escape Rosselia by any means necessary took precedence, and he couldn’t see anything else. A reckless optimism dominated him.

The linaria that had been sown before the cold subsided burst into bloom as soon as the weather warmed. It was a flower Niah particularly liked because he could see its cute blossoms from spring all the way to autumn if he sowed them at different times. It was also pretty when the arc-curved petals fluttered in the wind, looking like butterflies flapping their wings.

This was why the linaria lined the edges of the garden spread widely in front of the mansion. They were humble if one looked at them casually, but every single one was adorable when looked at up close.

Niah was hiding under a bed of yellow linaria in a corner of the garden. He curled his body as much as possible and occasionally poked his face out. His movements, carefully surveying the surroundings with his head peeked out, were very cautious. While working on scraping away the old grass from winter, he had felt the mansion’s entrance become chaotic and had gone into hiding.

The only way to avoid being caught by Adrian, who appeared at all hours to look for him, or Pepe, who would grab him by the collar or poke his side painfully at the slightest provocation, was to hide himself. Avoiding Pepe, the gardener, was difficult, but there were times he could pass by Adrian without being caught, so he would quickly bend his knees and sit even while working.

Ever since the day he turned back from in front of the locked door, Niah would flinch and tremble at even the slightest sound. He would become terrified, raising his quills like a startled hedgehog. He was slowly realizing that the young master’s promise to protect him had been a lie. He was also in the middle of accepting that it might not have been a lie, but simply all a delusion of his own.

The one saving grace was that the linaria hedge, planted so densely that it looked solid, was excellent for concealing his form.

Is it a delusion?

After watching the situation for a moment, Niah stood up stealthily and let out a deep sigh. He looked around while fiddling with the handle of the rake he was gripping tightly. Adrian was nowhere to be seen. There were only a few servants bustling about, working here and there.

He pressed down on his heart, which was pounding like a hammer, trying to calm it. It didn’t work well, but he felt like he would burst into tears if he didn’t do at least this much. Niah rubbed his dry eyes for no reason. His gaze turned downward out of habit.

The wind that wafted over from afar felt like the forest. A scent he wanted to run to and bury himself in brushed past the tip of his nose.

The accumulated fatigue made his eyelids heavy. It was because he had spent the last few days in a state of constant tension. He couldn’t easily fall asleep even at dawn, leaving his body feeling limp. Aside from being sleepy, his mind was clear, and thoughts he didn’t want to have and memories he didn’t want to recall flooded in indiscriminately.

From the day after he spent a full day crying, he hadn’t even been given time to cry to his heart’s content. Only after being left alone in his small, dark room could he be honest with the emotions he had been forced to suppress during the day. Emotions he couldn’t define trickled down his cheeks, drop by drop.

Every night, Niah hugged the shirt Orca had given him. Burying his cheek in the soft fabric would make him cry without realizing it. Now, he didn’t even know why he was crying.

As the days he couldn’t see the young master piled up, he faced his unfamiliar and awkward self more often. It felt as if he had been thrown into a lake with his hands and feet tied, his mouth full of sand. He was sinking to the bottom of the water with no way to escape. Then, when morning came, he would be forcibly fished out by the net-like sorrow.

He resented that the stupid goldfish wasn’t functioning properly. It would be better if he could just forget, but even that didn’t go as he wanted. In truth, he couldn’t even affirm for himself whether he truly wanted to erase his memories or not. He simply fell asleep every day as if fainting, and repeated waking up as if having a seizure. Days of conforming to the flow of time, which rolled along helplessly like a dropped ball of yarn, continued.

It had been a week, no, ten days, perhaps four days since he became unable to see the young master. It was hard to count the time he was just letting slip by. It felt as if he had met him just yesterday, and also as if he had met him a very long time ago. The deeply rooted memories were tangled at will. Either way, he was a stupid goldfish. He was just wandering around, unable to do this or that.

He couldn’t see the young master at all, as if he weren’t even in the mansion. Everything he knew was what Harriet heard somewhere and told him. She said the young master almost never left his room except at meal times. Harriet would whisper softly that sometimes he didn’t even eat, and that he still said he didn’t need any service. She brought similar news every day and told him everything in the same voice. Listening to it made his neck shrink in fear.

Is his injured hand not hurting anymore? If he doesn’t eat, he must be terribly hungry, is he okay? Perhaps he won’t come out for a walk in the garden? It doesn’t matter if it’s from afar, can’t I see him for a moment?

Harriet would pat the back of his hand as if she knew all of Niah’s worries and wishes that he didn’t speak aloud. It was because of this attitude of his that she, who had carefully opened the conversation at first, now urged him on whenever she saw him.

“Niah. Do you really want to be like this? Are you just going to do nothing and stay still?”

If he was that worried, and if he wanted to see him that badly, she urged him to go see him himself instead of just standing there blankly. Once, she had even dragged him to the path leading from the West Wing to the fourth floor of the central wing.

However, he couldn’t muster the courage to disobey the young master’s orders. He didn’t know how he would beg for forgiveness if he were hated even more than he was now. Just as he had suddenly been told not to come, he might just as suddenly be told to come again. It was better to wait like this, harboring that kind of hope.

Niah, who had been gently scraping the lawn with his rake, snapped his head around. The mansion entrance was chaotic, just like before. For some reason, even the butler had appeared outside. It had been a long time since he had seen the butler, who never left his office unless it was for something important. It had been so long that Niah only remembered it was the butler after thinking for a while.

Thinking Adrian might be there too, Niah, who had been looking at the entrance while half-kneeling, was startled and sat down with a thud. His chest, pressed against his thighs, pounded loudly. He gulped down his spit. Managing his racing heart, he carefully poked only his eyes out from beyond the linaria hedge.

“Young master….”

Before he could stop it, a mournful call spilled out. Niah, more surprised by his own voice, covered his mouth with both hands and curled his back. His small body was quickly hidden again.

Orca, who had been standing at the entrance receiving the butler’s tiresome concerns, shifted his gaze alertly. The goldfish was nowhere to be seen. Instead, only small, colorful goldfish were fluttering about like dancing spores. When he listened closely, he heard shallow breathing from under the yellow linaria flowerbed. Every time a soft breath escaped between those lips, a call directed at him followed.

“Young master….”

The muscles under his ribs felt sore, and his breath hitched. This wasn’t the auditory hallucination he had been hearing from within the lines he had drawn. Even now, the small, colorful goldfish fluttered about as if to hide the orange goldfish.