ORCA 43

The little goldfish were swimming lightly, following the breeze. I could not resist the leaning heart. It was an irresistible force.

“Ha, I’m truly insane.”

I had been conquered without any way to help myself. It was only natural that I would lose the battle, given that I was obsessed with how to drag a servant, whom everyone else treated as a nuisance, back into my room.

Orca closed his eyes long and hard as if mocking himself, then opened them. The small goldfish were still flapping their fins diligently within my field of vision. I couldn’t distinguish whether what I was seeing were flowers or goldfish. I couldn’t even judge if it was reality or an illusion. Truly, I couldn’t find any expression to describe it other than saying it was strange.

The goldfish was strange. Beyond fear, many things were contained in the eyes that looked at me. They were brimming with expectations, such as wanting to be stroked or touched, and emotions like joy and happiness. They would stick close to me, hating to be apart, or would collapse into my arms and share their careless laughter.

The way they visited my room every morning and evening to head toward the bathroom was like a turtle that had just learned to walk. They would walk slowly and stare persistently. Their cautious fingers would grasp the hem of my clothes, and even while crying, they didn’t run away. They would suddenly thrust their head toward me, silently begging to be stroked or complimented.

A mere goldfish worried about me, wrapping the cloth with clumsy skill and tracing over my scars. They were anxious that they might be hated by me after being deceived by nonsensical teasing. Because their heart was as soft and weak as their gentle skin, they forgot everything they disliked. And yet, today, they called me “Young master.”

The goldfish was strange. They had been able to forget so well last time, but this time, they were holding on tight.

What was even stranger than the goldfish was me. At the same time I hoped they wouldn’t forget me, I felt the selfishness that it would be fine if they did forget me, since they would eventually. If I left this place and didn’t return, the goldfish would erase their memories of me on their own. Only the goldfish knew whether that would be simple oblivion or if they were trying to forget me because it became painful just to think of me.

Whenever I conjectured such a future, my chest, which had been burdened, felt relieved. Knowing full well that they would forget without me telling them to, it felt like it would be okay to act as I pleased. Conversely, I felt as if a stone block had been placed on my chest, leaving me suffocated and distressed. It was a terrible contradiction.

The common sense I possessed did not work on the goldfish. I could not kill them as I wished, chew and swallow them, clear them from my sight, or even do the most trivial of actions as I pleased. Rather, there were many moments when I ended up doing things I usually wouldn’t.

In the late evening, the goldfish would step into the hallway for the last time of the day. Their hands would be carrying a tray with a water bottle and a cup. Some days, they would also bring the bed sheets they had forgotten to change during the morning.

Unlike their soft footsteps, I could not endure the sound of the glass clashing anxiously, and every time, I would stand up from my seat. I could not sit still because of the precarious movements I could feel even without looking.

It was like that even if it wasn’t late in the evening. Of course, when I heard the wheels of the trolley, but even when they approached alone with empty hands, I would jump up to open the door for them. Only after I put my hand on the doorknob would I feel embarrassed by my own actions.

The goldfish standing behind the door would look at me with a face that said they had been waiting, grinning. The first few times, they were startled, but from some point on, they would just laugh “hehe” like a rolling acorn. Because they kept their eyes on me while entering, their head would naturally turn. They didn’t even care that the water bottle was clattering. After the day the goldfish got drenched in water, I started by taking the tray from them first.

“Niah. You have to look ahead.”

“Yes… I’m looking…”

The goldfish nodded earnestly while scanning my face as if to wear it out. They didn’t actually practice what I told them to, but they gave good, obedient answers. Their gaze remained on me. When I tilted my head to the side in disbelief, they followed and tilted their head as well. When I tilted it the other way to look at them, they tilted it back again, quizzically.

They were blankly like that, then suddenly burst into a shy smile. Their smooth cheeks rounded out like a well-inflated brioche. I was truly at a loss. Feeling needlessly displeased, I flicked the tip of the goldfish’s nose with my finger.

“Ouch.”

“What’s so funny?”

Leaving behind the goldfish, who grabbed their nose in surprise, I strode into the inner part of the room. The goldfish, left alone, soon followed after me, making small complaints of “Young master, Young master.” They stood close by and anxiously watched me until I set the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed. That appearance seemed both coy and sulky.

“Young masteeer…”

If I gave them my attention in silence, the goldfish would reach out a hand. The strength with which they tugged at my hem or the sleeve of my robe was weak, but what they wanted was clear. If I didn’t pretend not to notice and stroked their forehead and the nape of their neck, they would immediately beam. On the other hand, if I tried to send them away in a hurry without doing anything for them the whole time, they would look crestfallen, as if to show me.

“Come closer, Niah.”

Only when I sat the goldfish, who eventually dripped tears, in front of me and made them kneel did I feel something become light. I liked that submissive action. The sound of them sobbing while leaning their cheek against my thigh did not feel like noise. Rather, I wanted to fill the time when twilight gathered with the goldfish. That was why I wanted to push them away even more.

Suddenly, Orca, who had been lost in thought, rose to his feet. He immediately moved away from the window and turned around. Instead of the swimming of the Linaria, the empty room filled his sight. Expensive furniture didn’t even enter his concern. It was just an empty room.

Orca squeezed his eyes shut. He felt ashamed and even pathetic at his current situation, where he had changed his attitude in mere days and was now impatient. He sighed involuntarily. The only thing he could rely on was the assurance that this was all a temporary situation.

Having painstakingly gathered up the interest he had felt for the garden, he rang the bell for calling the servants. It was to order them to send the letter he had just written to the unit. The presence that appeared as quickly as a rodent knocked on the door cautiously. Upon his short permission, they hurried in and bowed their heads.

“Send this to Sever.”

“Yes, Young master. I will be right back.”

It was such an easy thing to do, and if I said one word, anyone would come running immediately, yet when it came to calling the goldfish back, I kept weighing and measuring things. It was simple to make them not come, but reversing it was somehow not going smoothly. Because of that, I ended up embracing a whole lot of hesitation.

Time passed in vain. I thought I might have them bring tea tomorrow, or pretend to run into them by chance while going out to the garden. Once I brought them in naturally and sat them in front of me as if nothing had happened, it would really be nothing special. I could just torment their soft tongue, then make them cry and comfort them, doing whatever I wanted.

If I did that, summer would come soon, and I planned to leave when the heat subsided. I had no plans other than leaving. After I returned to my original position, the goldfish could just forget me. I also intended to erase everything from my mind. Two seasons were more than enough to resolve the strange goldfish. It was a neat conclusion.

Niah tossed and turned without rest, eyes wide open. If there was no particular remaining daily routine, it was a time when they should have long since fallen asleep. However, far from being sleepy, their mind was very clear. Their head was so packed with the Young master’s face that there was no room for drowsiness.

Judging by the lethargy in their body, it seemed they had worked hard all day, but they didn’t really know what they had done. Ever since they saw the Young master in the garden, they had been preoccupied, and nothing else mattered. Because of that, they were a little worried, wondering if they might have harmed the plants they cherished.

But the more they tried to remember something, the more they just wanted to meet the Young master. Tonight, they didn’t even have tears. However, their insides were bubbling like stew ingredients inside a pot. It was scorching hot, as if they had swallowed soup that was steaming hot all at once.

They brought their nose to the shirt they had been fiddling with and inhaled. The scent that used to make their heart flutter was now so faint it could barely be felt. They were suddenly struck with fear, wondering what would happen if even the things about the Young master faded away like this. They became afraid that perhaps they would leave at the party that was about to be held.