ORCA 45

Niah bypassed the servant stairwell and took the central staircase, heading straight for the fourth floor. It was the fastest way to arrive. He tried to soothe his increasingly hurried gait and lifted his feet with care. He held the pot’s body and base tightly so as not to drop it.

His ankles, tense from walking with bated breath, trembled. As he drew closer to the young master’s room, his mouth went dry. Light streaming through the windowpanes patterned the path in patches—light, then darkness, then light again. Walking along the corridor that served as a stepping stone, he soon reached his destination.

When he had impulsively taken the Stuckyi, he had been brimming with confidence. But now that he had actually arrived, he felt a bit intimidated. He reached for the doorknob, hesitated, and pulled his arm back, repeating this behavior several times. He paced back and forth, rubbing his shoes against the carpet. He even ran back to the stairwell at the far end of the hallway to pretend it never happened, only to turn back. As his deliberation continued, his courage gradually waned.

Niah eventually crouched in front of the door and mumbled to himself. His lips, devoid of any moisture, cried out in stinging pain at even the slightest movement. His chest rose and fell. He buried his face halfway into his hugged knees.

The Stuckyi beneath his gaze begged him to hurry inside. He withdrew one hand and stroked the blunt tops of the plants. They all deserved to be treated with care, but the young sprouts especially needed affection. That was the only way they could grow up strong and healthy into adults.

He felt needlessly sorry for the Stuckyi, which were only the length of his palm. It felt as if they had been banished and cast out along with him, when they should have been growing up well, receiving plenty of sunlight and breeze by the window in the young master’s room. It was all because he had become hated by the young master.

“…Let’s go. I’ll take you there. If we go quietly and secretly, it should be fine. Yeah.”

Niah stood up awkwardly and pressed his ear tightly against the door. No sound could be heard from inside the room. Only after verifying this for a long time did his stiff heart begin to soften. He took a calm breath and pulled the pot to his chest. This time, he didn’t hesitate and grasped the handle, pulling it down. The unlocked door let him in easily. As if he had received permission, his heart fluttered.

The window ledge closest to the bed was the pot’s new home. Niah smiled proudly, the corners of his mouth twitching. Thinking he should return before he was caught, he quickly interlaced his ten fingers and squeezed them tightly. He closed his eyes shut and prayed inwardly.

He hoped they would grow tall here and become adults. It would be a joy if they grew sturdy and bloomed pretty flowers. He prayed that if, someday, flowers were to bloom, the young master would be able to return that year. Not knowing who to ask, he just kept repeating the wish blindly.

It would be nice if the stars or the moon, or some great angel, heard his wish and granted it. Even if it was much later, after he had forgotten the young master entirely, it would still be okay.

Niah, lifting his eyelids slightly, approached Orca with hesitation. The moonlight cast shadows in the shape of the Stuckyi, cutting across the bed in jagged lines. He wanted to stay by his side just once, just for a little while. Niah knelt on the floor right next to the bed and gazed at Orca’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to get any closer. He only struggled to narrow the distance, if even by a little.

He supported his thighs with his clenched fists and craned his neck forward. His lower lip pouted out. He wished the young master wasn’t lying in the middle, but sleeping on his side. He resented the bed, which was as wide as his entire room.

Niah, who had been rolling his eyes along Orca’s facial contours, suddenly bowed his head and fidgeted. He only looked up through his lashes, sneaking glances. He couldn’t take his eyes off the large hand that lay within reach if he fully extended his arm. He chewed on his tongue.

Seeing that he hadn’t moved a muscle since earlier, he hesitated, thinking it might be fine, but then again, he wasn’t sure. Above all, it was his first time seeing the young master asleep. He knew he had to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up. He didn’t know if this would be his last chance. He held his breath and tightened his throat.

He cautiously raised one arm over the bed. His hand trembled as it moved forward. But the bed was too high; no matter how far he reached, he couldn’t touch him. He leaned his other arm on the bed and raised himself up halfway on his knees. Then, he could finally feel the warmth of his body heat.

Niah, not realizing his upper body was almost lying on the bed, was excited all on his own. He tried touching the knuckles and fingernails gently, then furtively burrowed his hand under Orca’s palm. He suppressed the laugh that threatened to spill out. Heat rose in the skin where they touched.

“Uh…”

Later, Niah, who was enjoying the long-awaited contact while lying down, tried to pull away in shock. The sudden grip had enveloped his hand. He tried to pull away reflexively, but it didn’t go as he wanted. Instead, he was held even tighter.

“You-young master… Um, that, well… it’s just…”

His excuses couldn’t find their way out and got lost. Even though he had created the situation himself, he couldn’t help being terrified. He should have just left the pot and left. He had committed another mistake.

Orca sat up without letting Niah go and leaned his back against the headboard. His eyes were fixed on one spot. The flattened goldfish whimpered meaninglessly. As Niah tried to struggle away with his feeble strength, Orca pulled him up in response. The small body that had come over so lightly was softly placed on the bed.

“I’m sorry. I, I, I was going to leave soon… I really was, but, um…”

He almost burst into muffled laughter at the muttering. Orca, leaning toward Niah, turned on the light. As the area around the bed grew bright, they could see each other clearly. Orca opened his mouth in a low voice, still holding his hand.

“Niah.”

Instead of answering, Niah, shoulders hunched, bowed his head low. Orca pulled Niah closer. Niah, curled up like a withered flower, obeyed quietly as he was told. Conflicting emotions swirled wildly inside him. It was wonderful yet terrifying; it was both nerve-wracking and heart-pounding. It felt like cold sweat was breaking out all over his body.

Orca reached out with his free hand and made Niah look at him. He didn’t like that Niah had gone through the trouble of coming in only to show him the top of his head.

“Why are you like this here?”

He stroked Niah’s soft cheek, then moved down to his chin and rubbed the wounded lips without causing pain. At that gentle touch, Niah bit his lip out of habit. He couldn’t help it, fearing he might burst into tears. His gaze plummeted again. Orca arched a brow and leaned down.

“What are you doing?”

Minute specks of dust only reveal their presence after they collect and accumulate. One doesn’t realize it until they have bunched up layer by layer, only to be discovered suddenly one day. As he looked down at the goldfish in the sunset-colored light, such thoughts crossed his mind. The sorrowful face was like a speck of dust in a corner that he had happened to notice. He leaned down to examine that face more closely.

He gently pulled away the lip that had been pressed by the upper teeth. Bruised wounds were visible on the skin that had been obediently presented. A faint moan escaped when he touched them. He could feel the fluttering movement within his palm. Aside from that, Niah was calm, as if he had no intention of shaking him off or running away.

Long eyelashes cast shadows beneath his drooping eyes. When he pressed on the lips once more and released them, Niah squeezed his eyes shut and flinched. The shadows cast by his lashes fluttered. It was the moment he confirmed the reality created by the accumulation of orange illusions.

It seemed the goldfish was quite aggrieved that his brave visit had been found out. The gaze he cast upward with his eyes partially open was full of resentment. But to him, it was merely a pleasant spectacle. He had known since Niah was wandering the hallway. He had been pacing in front of the door for so long, agonizing over it; it would have been more strange if he hadn’t known. Those gestures were just like dust rolling about.

The goldfish had fluttered lightly and then suddenly revealed himself in a striking way. Once you notice, you can never go back to before you knew.

Of course, he hadn’t expected the goldfish to come on his own before he even called for him, let alone secretly visiting at such a late hour. Moreover, he hadn’t known this coward would eventually come inside instead of turning back after hesitating. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t flustered. That was why he hadn’t reacted immediately. Only when the warmth that touched him so tentatively began to burrow into him did he resolve that he should hold on to him.