ORCA 56

Niah felt nothing but aggrieved because the young master, the very person he most wanted to recognize his efforts, called him useless. If he would just tell him what was wrong, he wanted to fix it. However, if the reason was the same as the other servants who hated him, it was a big problem because he couldn’t fix it. Niah, clasping his hands together, bowed his head. He naturally shrank back in his anxiety. His chest felt tight and stinging.

“Is it, is it… because I’m stupid? Is it because I’m a goldfish, so… am I not needed…? But that, but I can’t fix that, I can’t fix being a goldfish…”

Orca gripped Niah’s other cheek. Unlike his face, which was obediently lifted, his gaze was still fixed on the floor. His eyelashes, grown thick with tears, were drooping and despondent. His lower lip, which he had bitten tight to hold back his sobs, trembled.

“Niah. You need to speak so I can understand.”

Niah squeezed his eyes shut. He was a fool, after all. He was an idiot who couldn’t even speak properly. That was why the young master, and the servants, hated him like this. No matter how much he tried, nothing changed.

Everything the young master did—touching him—it was all a lie. The delicious food, the warm body heat, and the gentle touch were all lies. They couldn’t possibly be real. They couldn’t be real, or he wouldn’t hate him this much.

“You say I have to be scolded every day, that you’re punishing me. I’m always, ugh, snif… always…”

Only then did he get a rough idea. He had wondered why he never grinned even when he stroked him over and over. Regardless, there was quite a leap in logic here, too, but he understood the situation. Orca rubbed Niah’s eyelids, which had quickly become damp, with his thumb. At that, Niah began to sniffle even louder.

“I tried so hard. I listened well, ugh… I’ve never once slacked off, I’ve always worked hard, snif, I worked so hard. But, you don’t tell me I’m pretty, snif, you only scold me… You tell me I’m ugly, that I’m not needed, that you hate me, uh, snif… the truth is, not at all, snif, it’s not okay at all. You say I have to be scolded… ugh, ugh…”

Orca curled his lips, savoring the sound of Niah sobbing sorrowfully. It was an arc drawn as minutely as a hairline crack in glass. After brushing over Niah’s tear-laden eyelashes, he brought his dress shoes tightly against Niah’s neatly placed shoes. His expression was clearly filled with interest. Intending to soothe him and make him stop crying, he said in a low voice.

“When did I ever say you were ugly, hm?”

However, his intention failed perfectly. Instead, Niah burst out, “Waaaaah!” Niah literally wailed. He cried his heart out like a child who had lost his parents’ hand in the middle of a war. Orca called “Niah, Niah” several times, but he didn’t calm down easily. Usually, he would have burrowed into his chest and been breathing softly long before this. At this point, even Orca was flustered.

“Niah?”

Instead of the docile behavior he had expected, Niah moved about, struggling, and slipped out of his grasp. He hadn’t been able to shake him off at once, but he pushed him away soon after. Orca had no choice but to let him go, fearing he might hurt him if he kept holding on. If he did it wrong, he might break his neck and die.

After backing away a few steps from Orca, Niah wiped his face vigorously with his sleeve. He was almost half out of his mind.

“I, I hate you too, young master… You’re the same.”

“Niah.”

“I know too. I know I’m stupid. But, still, I worked hard… Why do you always say you hate me, talk so meanly, hurt me everywhere, then I get sad too, I don’t, I don’t forget everything either… I remember the things I don’t like too, why, why… ugh. I’m going to hate you too. It’s not good at all. It’s really not good at all… I hate you. I don’t like you… You’re a liar.”

Orca was left alone. It was because of Niah, who had run out without giving him a chance to soothe him. He watched beyond the narrowly opened door. His chest tightened at the sound of the sobbing that grew distant as he ran. Then, he felt somewhat empty. Soon, he felt completely fulfilled. Orca’s mouth, which had been frozen by the unexpected situation, drew a perfect arc. His embarrassment turned into willingness.

He didn’t put a shred of trust in the words that he hated him. It sounded like the opposite. More important than that was the honest resentment that had flowed out haltingly, as if he himself were speaking it for the first time. The goldfish’s resentment was soft and frail. Its blunt blade was aimed not at the opponent, but recklessly at himself. He shed tears, hurt by the words he himself had spoken. It was a tone that had never once blamed anyone else to begin with.

How naive and innocent he was. How foolish, how pitiful. How, how…

It was as if he could visualize the days he had lived, pressed down like a wildflower in a field, stepped on every time it was stepped on. He found that weakness amusing, then felt it admirable that he was alive, then felt his resentment for not knowing that was just like his own and thus adorable, then suddenly realized. He had realized belatedly that the crying sound had disappeared nearby. It seemed the goldfish had already rolled off somewhere.

Orca hurried out of the room. The crack in the door, which had been only as wide as ‘Niah,’ became as wide as ‘Orca.’ He descended to the first floor in an instant, his steps impatient as he strode out the front door. It seemed like the first time in his life he had encountered a moment where he couldn’t act calmly. He felt encumbered by his heart, which repeatedly puffed up as if to burst, then shrank. He stood still, turned his gaze to every corner of the garden, and listened. The servants, who had been moving busily finishing their daily tasks, cast glances at Orca, who had appeared suddenly. The garden, spread with the evening glow, was dyed entirely in an orange light.

Niah was not in the garden. No matter how hard Orca strained his hearing, the fact that all he could hear was the sound of his own heart annoyed him greatly. He tried taking a deep breath, but it had little effect. His steps headed toward the greenhouse. It didn’t seem likely that the place he had run to was here, but he wanted to check everywhere regardless. He quickly scanned the space that had become quite familiar. There was no one in the greenhouse, as expected. Since Niah was gone, it was the same as there being no one there for him.

Orca, who came back out to the garden, thought and thought as much as he could. Even with the wide-open view, he felt stifled. The appearance of the high, long mansion suddenly annoyed him. He turned away from heading to the west wing distillery and went down to the basement where the servants’ dorms were. It was on the assumption that he would have hidden in a place familiar to him.

However, the basement was empty. He had opened every door that existed, but not to mention Niah, other servants were nowhere to be seen. The distillery he visited after the basement was the same.

“This is really…”

Finally, having given up on guessing Niah’s destination, Orca searched through the mansion here and there. He went into every place he saw and inspected the inside. He couldn’t even pass by low cupboards where a person wouldn’t fit, or very narrow crevices. To him, Niah was so small that he couldn’t possibly estimate where a place he could be was, just by looking at the exterior. If he judged by his own standards, he felt he would never find him.

The servants, who had been victimized suddenly, held their breath in inexplicable fear. They imagined all sorts of things and created yet more grotesque stories.

Every time he failed to find Niah, who had hidden himself so well, Orca’s mood sank low. The more the situation repeated itself, almost the same as before, the more his anger swelled. He felt pathetic for his own behavior, causing this chaos just to find one servant. Nevertheless, his sensitive hearing had lost its function for now, leaving him only able to hear the sound of his own heart.

Wondering if he might have returned, he came to his room and sighed deeply. He grew increasingly obstinate. Hide-and-seek was a game he hadn’t even been interested in when he was a child, but now he was immersed in it.

He vowed to find Niah and punish him this time for sure. He wouldn’t forgive him even if he cried, and he wouldn’t accept it even if he begged and clung to him. Since he was merely a servant who had put him—the master—through such trouble, he would have to receive a punishment that was appropriate. It didn’t matter what it was. It was obvious that the goldfish would be scared regardless of what he did. In any case, there was only one thing he had to do right now.