ORCA 50

Orca recalled the first time he had pulled Niah out of the lake. He remembered himself, indifferent to whether the flapping goldfish lived or died, leaving the naked body shivering from the cold exposed to the chilly wind. He thought of the forest late at night, where the boy had followed him without even properly wearing his shoes and had eventually fainted. He retraced the transgression of having casually thrown him into the underground hall, watching as he was beaten by another’s hands, and only after making him cry his eyes out, compelling him to beg for his life.

He felt that his past self was like non-disposable trash. He seemed worse than a pebble rolling around outside. As he thought, it seemed it would be best to kill that bastard behind Niah’s back. And then, should he be punished as well? He imagined what kind of punishment his goldfish would give him, then bent his back again.

He looked at Niah and fiddled with his thigh. His bright face was completely relaxed, innocent and pure. He had the illusion that he smelled faintly of sweet milk pudding. No, was it not an illusion? Orca licked the round cheek as if tasting it. Then he once again blew, hoo hoo, on his split lips. His hand delved into the sensitive inner flesh.

Niah, who had been squirming as if to curl his legs from the ticklish sensation, soon gave up. The large body was occupying the entire space between his legs, so he couldn’t move. It only looked as if he were struggling meaninglessly.

“Uung… Young Masterrr….”

Orca made a smack sound on the lips that were smacking with a chap chap sound as he mumbled in his sleep. It was quite pleasant to hear him call out to him even in his sleep, acting like a spoiled child. He stopped watching him any longer, roughly straightened his pants, and got off the sofa. He had no choice, as he felt he would get hard again if he stayed like this. He forced his attention away from his already half-erect penis and hurried to the bathroom. Before he left, he didn’t forget to lay Niah down comfortably.

He sneered at his own distracted expression in the mirror and washed his hands. The sticky semen and viscous fluids washed away with water and soap. The thought that what Niah had released was mixed in there made him feel a little regretful. He regretted not having taken a bite and then let out a hollow laugh. He was someone who had originally detested anything messy.

He took out a thick towel, soaked it in warm water, and returned to the sofa. He quietly wiped Niah’s face so as not to wake him, and also wiped the damp stomach and the area around his thighs, making him clean. Then, after watching him for a good while again, he came to his senses and brought underwear and pajamas from the dressing room to dress him. When he took off his shirt to change him, he held his breath and acted with such caution as if he were carrying out some critical mission.

“Ah….”

Then, Orca, who discovered the bruises that had already formed on his forearms, let out a sigh. He had the extreme thought that it might be better to just cut off his wrists that couldn’t even control their strength, then finished dressing him and buttoned up his clothes.

Niah seemed to be in a very deep sleep, as he hadn’t moved a bit since his sleep-talking earlier. He was sleeping as if dead, only letting out a thin breath. To find out if Niah was really just asleep, Orca knelt on the carpet floor. The dignity of a nobleman was of no concern to him now.

He intertwined his hand with the fingers that were curled into a ball to check his body temperature and brought his ear to his nose. When that didn’t reassure him, he even tried pressing it against his chest. The regular sound of his heart beating, thump thump, could be heard faintly. Only then did he feel at ease, and the breath he had been holding burst out. Even though he could have known just by straining his ears without getting close, he remained in a posture as if held in Niah’s arms for a while, listening intently.

He was pleased to feel that he was alive. It was a funny thing. He, who had felt peace in the moments of swimming through a sea where dozens, hundreds of deaths spread, was wishing for someone’s well-being. That it was a relief he hadn’t killed him, a relief he hadn’t died.

Orca carefully lifted Niah and laid him on his bed. He wouldn’t catch a cold just from being stripped for a bit, would he, he thought, but still suspecting the frail body, he covered him with the blanket up to his chin and put him to sleep. A patting touch followed naturally.

“Niah. Wake up soon.”

Orca, who whispered his wicked thoughts in a small voice, bent his waist and lightly touched his own lips to the swollen lips. Pulling away immediately, he whispered again and swept his hair back. The orange curls scattered ticklishly between his fingers.

“Quickly.”

Niah, knowing nothing, wandered through a pleasant dream.

The unidentifiable emotion that Orca had named ‘Niah’ was at times an uncontrollable passion, at times a relief that he had not killed him, at times a foolish prayer that summer would never come, and in the end, it was punctuated by gratitude for Niah’s life, for his being alive.

He was grateful for the fact that he had survived until now with his soft and small body, and that of all the many mansions, he had come to work as a servant in the Wearga household. He was so pleased that he had endured and endured that difficult and tiring life and had finally met him and was held in his arms. He liked the voice that said he liked him, that it was okay whatever he was, even if he wasn’t human, even if he was strange. He was grateful that he didn’t avoid him, but rather gave him a place by his side and didn’t forget him for a single moment. No, even putting all that aside, just the fact that he was sleeping peacefully in his bed filled him with grace.

To Harriet, Niah and Orca were already nothing more than the most naive of innocents. So, as soon as she saw Niah appear with his swollen face, only one assumption came to her mind.

“Niah! Who hit you? Just how much did you cry, huh? Who bullied you!”

Harriet, who ran to him as soon as she saw him, grabbed his face first. She turned it this way and that, scrutinizing it, then let out a loud shriek. He was startled by her unusually high-pitched voice, but he was soon relieved by her worried expression. Fortunately, he quickly realized she wasn’t angry but was worried. Still, he couldn’t give her the answer she wanted. When she asked who had bullied him, he could only shake his head. It was true that he hadn’t been bullied, so he had no choice.

He belatedly tried to say it was a misunderstanding, but Harriet didn’t believe him. On top of that, when she grabbed his forearm, telling him to tell the truth, he let out a scream, ack, causing her suspicions to grow even larger. She kept nagging him and prying throughout the meal.

Other servants kept glancing at the small commotion between her and him. He even made eye contact with Pepe, who was sitting diagonally across the table. Pepe was tapping his plate with the back of his knife, tuk tuk. He could feel his gaze on him until he left the dining hall. Even though he wasn’t doing anything to him, he felt like he was being bullied. The one who had bullied him wasn’t his young master, but Pepe. It was the servants who stared at him, whispering in inaudible voices.

His breath caught in his throat, and his chest felt tight. He felt more uncomfortable and scared now than when he was being harshly scolded or reprimanded all day. Every gaze directed at him felt like it was beating his entire body.

Pepe’s malice, in particular, grew darker day by day. He had disliked him from the beginning, but it seemed to have gotten worse lately. Since he didn’t know the reason, he couldn’t resolve his fear. Rather, there was no particular reason for him to be disliked. If there was a reason, it was that he was born a goldfish. Because he was a stupid goldfish, he was always disliked. That was reason enough.

But the sad feeling he had been clinging to every day had now greatly diminished. Every time his young master stroked his head, every time he called his name, every time he said everything was okay, it scattered, little by little. That’s why he kept getting greedy for things that made no sense.

I miss him.

Even while thinking that, Niah couldn’t go to Orca right away. He had been told to stop by his room first before starting his duties and had come down to the dining hall, but he just couldn’t muster the courage to go up. It was like that even though they had been together all night and he had even been seen off in the morning. Niah let out a deep sigh and slipped into a deserted corridor, perching on the windowsill. It was the long, quiet corridor he had walked down with Harriet the last time they had a heart-to-heart.

The sunlight warmly enveloped his back. When he pushed the firmly closed window open slightly, a gentle breeze flowed in through the narrow gap. He narrowed his already swollen eyes, which were hard to open, even more and enjoyed the wind. He uncharacteristically lazed about, watching the wildflowers visible beyond the window. His legs, dangling in the air, swayed limply like the stems of the wildflowers outside. His mind, which had been in turmoil because of Pepe and the servants, gradually softened.

“Tell your young master everything. Okay? Got it? You have to tell him!”

As he was killing some time, the last words Harriet had said to him before she left came to mind. Niah, who only smiled quietly at the whispered, secretive request, fidgeted with his own lips. The swollen skin stung. He was the one who had bitten it and made it bleed, but his young master was the one who had made it like this. If he told his young master about this, he couldn’t judge for himself who would be doing the punishing and who would be punished. He, who had clung to him saying he liked it, was, after all, an accomplice just the same.

The problem was that as his mind cleared and his reason returned, he became incredibly embarrassed about what he had done yesterday. He didn’t dare look his young master straight in the eye. When he woke up in the morning, he was still dazed, so he didn’t even know to be embarrassed and was swept away by his young master’s touch again. However, now that his mind was clear, that fact was extremely embarrassing. It was a sensation he didn’t want to forget, yet wanted to forget, that swept over him.

Moreover, it wasn’t just what happened on the sofa yesterday, but also after that, and after that, again and again, he had committed acts he couldn’t speak of out loud. They were things he could never tell Harriet “the truth” about. This was also why he was slacking off for the first time since becoming a servant at the mansion. He needed to prepare himself mentally. If he went just like this, he might die from being cooked through.

After falling asleep as if he had fainted yesterday afternoon, Niah had blinked his eyes open only at night, and in that state, he had been lifted up in a flash. Before he could even fully grasp the situation, his body was suddenly floating in the air, and he almost fainted again. It was because Orca, who had been silently keeping watch until his goldfish woke up, had suddenly lifted him into his arms without any warning. He looked down at the weak-hearted goldfish who fainted at something like this and gently soothed him for a while.

To him, Niah looked as if he were on the verge of death, gasping for breath. At Orca, who was patting his chest with a serious face, it was Niah who had to reassure him instead. However, his voice saying, “I’m okay,” was low and hoarse, which only brought about an unwanted counter-effect. Orca looked at Niah with the eyes of someone looking at the sickest patient in the world, wrapped him in a blanket, and took him to the sofa. On the table next to the sofa were dishes from which steam was rising.

“Here.”

“I can do it myself….”

“It’s hot. Eat slowly.”

He, who was holding his goldfish, who for some reason looked endlessly frail, in his arms, took his arm out and placed a plate on his hand. He fed him clam chowder, half a spoonful at a time. He lightly ignored his words that he would do it himself and pushed the spoon toward him. Niah obediently ate the warm food that had been prepared as if he had known when he would wake up.

After he had finished all the savory chowder, an omelet with finely chopped bacon and cheese, beef stew, and soft bread entered his mouth in sequence, pop, pop, pop. Dessert was bite-sized fudge cookies and lukewarm milk.

The late dinner didn’t end until well over an hour had passed. It was because every time Niah mumbled and swallowed, Orca couldn’t hold back and would lower his head and repeatedly kiss him, smooch smooch. His kisses, which knew no bounds, landed on his plump eyelids, his rounded cheeks, the tip of his nose, his ears, and his lips. Niah giggled ticklishly even during the meal that was constantly being interrupted.

“Wash up and go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Orca soothed Niah, who had started to get sleepy right away, and took him to the bathroom. He set him down on the sofa next to the bathtub and drew the water. Niah, still wrapped in a blanket, had no thoughts. He was full, sleepy, and in a good mood. Perhaps because the surroundings were humid, he was so languid, as if he were drunk, and he just sniffed, sniff sniff, at the fragrant bath bomb scent. He would also occasionally call out, “Young Master, Young Master,” and laugh foolishly. In truth, he couldn’t really distinguish whether it was reality or a dream.

Orca stroked the dandelion-seed-like head of his goldfish, who was giggling, hehe, and dangling his legs, and pressed his lips firmly on various spots on his upturned face. Then, the sound of a small giggle, huhu, could be heard, and he had no choice but to bend his back again.

“Stand up. Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

He handled Niah as carefully as if he were a newborn foal. He personally undressed him, put him in the bathtub, and even scrubbed him with a bath brush. After a moment of that, his palm, filled to the brim with ulterior motives, began to fondle the smooth skin. He plunged his hand into the water and kneaded the soft, yielding flesh.

Niah, who had obediently entrusted his body to him, just leaned against him, who was sitting outside the bathtub, and breathed softly, whew whew. Soaked in the warm water, drowsiness washed over him, and he couldn’t keep his wits about him.

Orca, indifferent to his clothes getting all wet, focused only on his hands. The act, which was unclear whether it was washing him or fondling him, continued for quite a long time. Still, he had a conscience, so he didn’t forget to examine the bruise he had etched on Niah’s forearm and the bite mark he had made. They weren’t severe, so it looked like they would heal in a few days. He thought it would be nice if the bite mark didn’t disappear, then cursed himself for being a crazy bastard.

After having thrown the vulgar curse at himself about three times, he repeatedly acknowledged his own shamelessness and parted Niah’s legs, which were sitting with his knees together. Because of Orca, who pretended not to know the conscience he had possessed just a moment ago and had thrown it away, Niah had to ejaculate two more times in the bathtub.

The muffled moan that echoed off the tiles planted a sense of guilt in Orca. Of course, it didn’t have much of an effect on his shameless behavior. He licked the bite mark with a lingering motion. The other side of guilt was the same as depraved excitement.

He forcibly woke him up as he was about to fall asleep from exhaustion, washed his hair, rinsed his body, and dried him off. The sight of Niah, who had been dressed in a robe and laid on the bed, and had fallen asleep as soon as he was laid down, was pitiful beyond measure. His reddened eyes and swollen lips were pitiable. His body, curled up in a ball, looked as if it had taken a defensive posture.

This time, the words “crazy bastard” came out of his mouth. It was the moment when the character education he had received for over a dozen years became useless in a single day.

“Crazy bastard…. Fucking crazy bastard.”

There were no pajamas left, so Orca changed him into a thick shirt and took out a new blanket and comforter, wrapping him up tightly. Worried that he might catch a cold because of his still-damp hair, he placed two folded towels on the pillow. He carefully dried the hair that was exposed outside so as not to wake him.

Only after his hair had become fluffy did he also get ready for bed and lie down next to him. However, he spent the night with his eyes open, watching his goldfish who would occasionally toss and turn and talk in his sleep. By the time he realized it, the faint light of dawn was already breaking.

“Young Master… did you sleep well….”

Orca, who had washed up and come out before Niah woke up, saw the goldfish sitting in a ball on his bed and resolved that he really must eat him up, then strode over and bit his nose. Next, he bit his cheek, his earlobe, and the nape of his neck, tormenting him.

Niah, who wrinkled his swollen face, only expressed his pain, “Ouch, ouch,” every time his teeth touched a different spot, but he didn’t push him away. Even when he was rubbing his head roughly, he only let out a small, “Aak, aak.”

“Did you wash up…? The water, have me do it….”

“Go and wash. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Yes….”

Orca, who sent Niah, who couldn’t even open his eyes properly but was good with his words, to the bathroom, quickly dried his wet hair and changed his clothes. Then he stood in front of the bathroom door and killed time. He tapped the floor with the tip of his foot, waiting impatiently. He couldn’t explain why he was feeling so anxious.

The slow movements inside that were moving toward him suddenly stopped with a clatter. Niah appeared, still wearing the shirt he had put on him yesterday, dripping with water. Orca took the towel from him and meticulously dried him off.

“Uh oh, my clothes, have me do it…. It’s my job, but you took it…. My hair too….”

“Okay. In the evening. Come here.”

Niah, who was still not fully awake even after washing up, was at his most languid and listless in recent days. His eyes were half-closed and his mouth was agape, like an empty orange peel. Because of this, his mind, which had become much simpler than usual, barely managed to execute the commands that were inputted.

He wasn’t in his right mind even when he entered the dressing room against his own will and changed into the clothes Orca had laid out for him in advance. If he had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have just flung off his shirt as he was told and exposed his bare body. Of course, he would have ended up doing as he was told, but what he meant was that he wouldn’t have just taken it all off without any hesitation.