ORCA 51

Niah, who had been yawning repeatedly and rubbing his eyes, was startled awake by an unfamiliar sensation that came with a compliment he had never heard before in his life. Sleepiness vanished in a flash, as if a fog that had been obscuring his vision had lifted all at once.

‘Young Master!’

‘Your nipples are pretty, too.’

‘Yes, what? What did you, yes?’

‘The color is the same. Did you know?’

‘Yes? Uh… uh uh… yes…’

‘Really? I just found out. It’s frustrating that I was the only one who didn’t know.’

Recalling up to this point, Niah crossed his arms to cover his chest. He glanced down before lifting his legs up onto the windowsill, curling into a ball, and leaning his head heavily against his knees. He let out hot, shallow breaths, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

No matter how much he thought about it, he really couldn’t figure out what the Young Master found frustrating, but the gaze that seemed to still be stuck on him remained vivid. The feeling of the fingers that had touched and pressed his nipples was still so real that a tingling sensation ran down his spine. Because of this, he couldn’t quite remember how he ate, or even if he finished his meal. Throughout the entire meal, his attention had been drawn elsewhere, making the moist grilled chicken thigh taste bland. It must have been incredibly delicious, so it felt unfair.

So, the one who was truly frustrated right now was him, not the Young Master. When you thought about it, he hadn’t gotten to see anything or touch anything. All he had done was feel embarrassed the whole time before falling asleep. It felt really, incredibly good, but still, what was frustrating was frustrating.

The whole reason he’d sought Harriet’s advice was because he wanted to see the Young Master’s naked body, but in the end, he only showed his own and didn’t get to see even a tiny bit. In fact, today he hadn’t even been able to glimpse a single muscle on his upper body. He worried every day that the Young Master would hate him because he was a pervert, and he tried to hide it, but the Young Master had looked at and touched his naked body without any hesitation. It would be strange not to feel frustrated.

“Hmph….”

Niah hopped down from the windowsill. His plan was to go to him, ask him to take off his clothes, and then enjoy himself to his heart’s content, keeping it a secret from Harriet. It was, by all means, the perfect plan. Niah huffed and puffed as he strode across the hallway. His steps toward the central area were urgent.

Orca paced back and forth in front of the door before stepping outside. Even then, he moved about restlessly, going back and forth in the same spot. He couldn’t go any further, as if an invisible wall were blocking his way. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. His fingers tapped on his forearm. His anxious gaze was fixed on the end of the corridor. It was because Niah, who he thought would have already been there when he returned from breakfast, was not only not waiting for him but had yet to appear at all.

It was time for him to come, it seemed long past the time he should have, but there wasn’t a single hair of the goldfish in sight. He had gone down before him, so why was he so late? His stomach churned with anxiety to the point of nausea.

He rubbed his face, parched with restlessness. He passed the useless time by counting meaningless numbers. From 1 to 100, 100 to 1, he counted one goldfish, two goldfish. If he didn’t do something like this, he felt like his head would explode.

He endlessly hurled vulgar words at himself. Then he began to number and count the reasons why Niah might not be coming to him. He thought that if he could specify the cause, a solution might become visible. But there wasn’t just one or two reasons that came to mind.

First, the goldfish who didn’t want to come because he had acted willfully both yesterday and today.

Second, the goldfish who didn’t want to come because he had only satisfied his own desires without asking if it was okay.

Third, the goldfish who didn’t want to come because he had ignored him when he said he was tired several times.

Fourth, the goldfish who didn’t want to come because he had taken him to wash up and then did the same thing all over again.

Fifth, the goldfish who didn’t want to come because he had tormented him after he fainted and woke up, until he fainted again.

Orca thought his actions were, upon reflection, quite shameless. Waiting for him so nonchalantly seemed impudent to the point of being barefaced. However, he hoped that Niah wasn’t coming for reasons like these. If the cause was him, there was nothing he couldn’t solve. As long as he came, as long as he appeared before him, he would be able to hold onto him. To do that, he could do anything for him.

He would gladly swear that if he said he didn’t want to, he would absolutely not do anything, that he would be sure to ask if he was okay, and that he would try his best to endure so that he wouldn’t suffer because of him. The goldfish’s answer to this was set in stone. There was no way he would refuse. That possibility was nonexistent.

Because the goldfish liked him, was kind, and was always soft on him.

“What a piece of trash….”

It was a raw self-condemnation. Orca, rebuking himself for habitually trying to use Niah, let out a long, heavy breath. Still, it was better if he was the trash. If the cause lay with the goldfish, there was still no way to solve it.

Sixth, the goldfish who didn’t come because he had forgotten his promise to him.

Orca was rooted to the spot. He could neither go look for Niah nor not go. He was worried that whether Niah was in the garden or the greenhouse, he might be waiting for him to come and end up hurting himself in some ridiculous way like yesterday; on the other hand, he was also afraid of what he would do if Niah burst into tears the moment he saw him. The goldfish would often ask hesitantly, with a slightly anxious or perhaps expectant expression. The act, which he thought Niah would quit after a few days, was being repeated every single night.

‘Young Master. Did I forget anything today?’

If he affirmed it, he would burst out laughing with a “hehe.” Though he only half-believed it, he would mutter, “that’s a relief,” and feel at ease. It was obvious that he was relieved thinking, “it’s not bad enough to be scolded,” but Orca didn’t let on that he knew.

The goldfish forgot often and remembered occasionally. They were all trivial, minor errors. Things like saying he would bring bath bombs but bringing soap instead. It was truly nothing, yet he would get depressed as if he had committed some grave sin. On bad days, he would shed fat tears. He blamed himself with a face that looked like he just couldn’t bear it.

He liked seeing him cry, but not like this. Hearing his apologies was also irritating. He felt pathetic every moment, unable to do anything but say it was okay. He wanted to get rid of everyone who put pressure on the goldfish just by living with him, but that too was impossible as it had already been firmly established that he couldn’t. Having his most effective solution rejected, he couldn’t think of any other way.

Until now, there had been nothing he couldn’t have or achieve, but the goldfish never went his way. He always made him feel powerless. He swayed him even when he wasn’t by his side. By the single fact that he wasn’t by his side, he could sway him as he pleased.

Orca slid down the wall, collapsing powerlessly into a sitting position. If someone saw him, they would gossip about his lack of manners, but the only person who would come here was Niah, and nothing was more important to him right now than Niah. He couldn’t guess how much time had passed. It felt like he had been waiting for a very long time, and also like it had been a fleeting moment.

Resting his elbow on his knee, he raised one hand to cover his eyes. His surroundings darkened, sinking into a heavy silence. Shadows of the dark, deep sea flooded his mind. He was left at a crossroads, sucked into a labyrinth. He could neither go find Niah nor not go. It seemed that the sixth reason was likely the correct answer.

“Young Master…?”

Niah, who had entered the 4th floor panting, thought he was seeing things. He didn’t know why his Young Master was crumpled on the floor, and his brow furrowed on its own. It was an awkward scene to witness with his own eyes. The Young Master crouching down next to him wasn’t such an unfamiliar situation, but this was the first time he had seen him all alone like that. His large frame was folded up like wrinkled paper, making him look small. It was as if he had been struck on the head with a giant question mark. Niah scurried over, calling his name repeatedly.

“Young Master? Young Master.”

As the distance closed, his footsteps quickened. This was the person who always sensed his arrival before he even reached the door. He was sure he had told him back then that his hearing was good, that he was sensitive and heard better than others. This was the person who could guess even how many times he had blinked his eyes, so there was no way he couldn’t have heard his voice. He shouldn’t fail to notice him when he was this close.

“Young Master….”

Kneeling down, Niah slid between his thighs and sat close. He placed both hands around Orca’s stomach and leaned his body forward. Leaning against him, Niah tried to see his hidden face. He tilted his head to call him and prodded him gently to get his attention. But Orca remained motionless as if his body were frozen. He didn’t respond even after being called dozens of times.

“Young Master.”

Niah took his hand. He slowly and carefully pulled down the arm that felt cool to the touch. The moment their eyes met, it felt as if time had stopped. Gentle ripples formed in the pupils that held only him. It was like looking into a jet-black lake, unlit by even a sliver of moonlight, from right up close. The playful plans he had bravely resolved to carry out while coming to the central area, and his embarrassment, all faded into the back of his memory. For some reason, his eyes grew hot.

“Young Master, your hand is cold. Why are you here like this,”

“Why did you come so late….”

Orca collapsed onto Niah’s shoulder. The voice complaining uttered an unclear sound. The short sentence scattered wretchedly. It was difficult to contain the emotions that had been pressed down to the brink of overflowing.

He reached out his arms and embraced the small body. He clutched him so fiercely that Niah had to swallow a yelp of “Ack!” It was a rough and harsh touch, like a beast of prey unwilling to let go of its kill, like this place was a sea in the midst of war. If he had bared his teeth instead of extending his arms, Niah would have died without a doubt. If he had failed to control his strength even just a little, his bones would have broken and his organs would have ruptured.

Orca took a deep breath, puffing up his body. He didn’t want to kill him, but he didn’t want to let him go either.

“I’m sorry. I was distracted…. Uh… were you, no, that’s not it. Ummm… were you, worried? I’m sorry, Young Master.”

Wriggling his trapped arm free, Niah hugged Orca back. The bruised spot throbbed, but he didn’t show it. He patted and soothed him as he was held in his embrace. He earnestly rubbed his back and held him tight.

Niah felt that his Young Master seemed small today. He didn’t know exactly why, but a deep sense of hurt was conveyed to him. Just as the Young Master had eased his sad feelings, he also wanted to ease the Young Master’s hurt, little by little.

“I thought you forgot. About coming to me.”

Niah flinched in surprise. Even so, he diligently patted the area near his shoulder blades. He rolled his eyes, calmly organizing the flood of thoughts. He couldn’t believe that while he had been hiding in his own embarrassment, the Young Master had been worrying only about him the whole time. He couldn’t quite grasp the reality that he had been upset, wondering if he might have forgotten to come here.

To think that the noble Young Master was occupying the corridor floor in a small ball just for someone like him, waiting only for him to come—it was, what should he say, overwhelming. The fact that his “stupid goldfish” self could make someone feel hurt and disappointed, not just angry, was fascinating. A ticklish feeling spread through his stomach. Suddenly feeling excited, Niah’s cheeks flushed red, and he grew slightly thrilled. As if to confirm his own guess, his lips parted hastily and whispered a question.

“Young Master. Were you waiting for me…?”

“Yes.”

“Because you thought I might have forgotten you?”

“That’s right.”

Niah felt that Orca, who was nuzzling his shoulder, was like a child throwing a tantrum. He also seemed like a large dog trying to be cute. He knew it was seriously impudent for a servant to have such thoughts about his master, but he couldn’t help it. He had the illusion that he could feel the fine-textured hair tickling his neck even under his clothes. He bit his lip to hold back the chuckles that kept escaping. He wondered if this was how the Young Master felt whenever he said he was like a dog. Niah’s arms, holding Orca, tightened.

“I won’t. I won’t forget you, Young Master. I… can’t promise…. But still, I won’t forget. I won’t forget. I think about you every single day before I sleep, no, during the day too. I try hard every day not to forget, to cherish everything. So please don’t worry. Okay?”

The hurriedly listed sentences piled up on Orca. The weight of each and every word filled him up and, at the same time, egged him on. The sight of a goldfish, barely the size of two of his finger joints, trying to reassure him was amusing, and as amusing as it was, it was lovely.

It seemed he could now understand the goldfish who would introduce a strange, unnamed plant as pretty. He began to think that his own expression now might be quite similar to the goldfish’s flushed face, which had looked proud while saying he had raised it with care and affection.

As his arms let go and moved away, Niah quickly grabbed his hands. He brought them up to his eye level, holding one in each of his hands and kneading them. He rubbed them briskly and blew on them with a “haaa.” Only after the chill subsided and their temperature returned to normal did his hand movements become gentle.

Orca, who had been quietly watching him smile brightly, imitated Niah. He fiddled with his own warmed hands, looking at the neat pink nails and the back of the hand where blue veins showed through, and examined the fine lines on the palm. Then, he pressed a kiss to the pale peach-colored skin.

The goldfish was white, had a coral hue, and shone with orange. Its transparent, yellow eyes stared straight at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the variety of colors. He opened his mouth, his lips still pressed to the palm. Feeling that if he stayed like this, he would want to taste each and every one of those colors, he roughly changed the subject.

“Did Harriet say anything?”

“About what?”

Niah giggled at the soft sensation brushing against his thin skin and asked back. He subtly moved the captured hand downwards and traced Orca’s lips. Orca gently stroked his thick eyelid with his thumb. Careful not to bite the fingers playing with his lips, he spoke again.

“You went there all swollen. I thought she might have asked. Since you two get along so well.”

“Ah… she asked if someone bullied me…. But I said no.”

“What do you mean no. It’s true that I bullied you.”

Niah’s gaze, which had been focused only on his lips, shot up. He abruptly scrunched up his puffy face. When the goldfish, who always had a friendly and shy look in his eyes, suddenly showed him a new expression, Orca was quite taken aback. Niah shifted his finger slightly to the side and lifted his head. Their lips met with a soft smack. He almost cried out “Ouch,” but he managed to hold it in. Niah put on a feigned angry expression.

“The Young Master doesn’t bully me.”

His voice was firm. Orca unknowingly let out a sigh that was like a laugh. It was pathetic how he was stating it so definitively, all while being clueless about the kinds of lewd fantasies he usually had. He wondered if he would curl up his fins and run away if he found out, then cupped his own cheeks. If he had intended to run away, he would have distanced himself from him long ago. There had been plenty of chances. Even on the day after he had sobbed because of him, the goldfish had come to him of his own accord. He had grinned, calling, “Young Master.”

“Ah!”

A scream escaped Niah’s mouth at the stinging pain that spread across his lips. A tear of physiological response trickled down. As Orca, with a frown, immediately pulled away, he hurriedly made an excuse.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Orca stopped Niah, who was trying to inch closer, and gently wiped above his eyelashes. He pressed around his eye, which had literally become a goldfish eye, and blew a “whoosh” of air on his swollen lips. If he could have his way, he would want to pluck off just the lips and keep them in a medicine jar all day.

“Let’s put some medicine on. How did you manage to eat?”