ORCA 62

To begin, on the first day of planting, one had to gently loosen the center of the planting ridge to create a round, shallow spot. Next, he poured water inside to soak it thoroughly. After waiting for it to be completely absorbed, he planted one tomato seedling and filled the hole halfway with soil. Once he poured more water into the remaining space and covered it well with soil, pressing it down, the seedling planting—the start of farming—was almost finished.

The seedlings to be planted today were fifteen large tomatoes and fifteen cherry tomatoes, thirty in total. This meant he had to repeat this process twenty-nine more times. After planting all the seedlings in two rows of ridges, he set up a support stake for each seedling and tied the end of the stem to the stake with string to secure it. Only after completing this entire process could the first day’s work be finished. Even if it sounded easy, it was a task that took quite a while.

Orca was captivated by the sight of Niah digging the soil, pouring water, and planting the seedlings. It was always fascinating to see his tidy fingertips move without a single wasted motion, handling the work efficiently. This was a Goldfish who had a talent for making people anxious even with the simple act of moving a teacup from a trolley to a table. There were many clumsy aspects to him; sometimes, even just watching him walk was nerve-wracking. Only when handling the plants he loved did the Goldfish’s movements become skilled. Watching that, he couldn’t help but be amazed.

“…Would you like to…?”

Niah held out the seedling resting in his hand toward Orca. His two hands, cupped into the shape of a bowl, were respectful. Behind his tightly closed eyelids, a faint sense of bewilderment was visible. He had just been about to plant his ninth large tomato seedling. Niah had been trying to decipher the meaning of the persistent gaze watching him the whole time.

Lately, his master had always been near him, but he had never stuck so closely to his side without leaving like this. Usually, he only approached when he had something to ask or when Niah requested that he show him something. Therefore, this situation, which was different from the norm, kept making him think all sorts of things.

Niah moved quickly on purpose, fearing his master had come to monitor whether he was being lazy or not. He felt sorry for the tomatoes, but he hurried and planted them haphazardly. Still, his heart shrank because of his master, who kept staying by his side. He also grew nervous, wondering if he had committed another mistake. Every time he planted a seedling, a new worry arose. By the time about eight seedlings were neatly settled in the ridge, he even reached a preposterous thought.

Could it be that my master wants to do it too…?

“I, is this not it…. I’m sorry. I spoke wrong.”

At his master’s silence, as he remained quietly looking down without answering, Niah hurriedly lowered his eyes. He chided himself for saying something unnecessary and pulled his arms back. The ninth seedling sat alone in the plain furrow where a spot hadn’t been prepared yet. He felt regretful that he should have just worked quietly, and at the same time, he felt disappointed for some reason. His mind knew he shouldn’t be like this, but his heart seeped out as it pleased, making it difficult to hide.

I really was a bit strange today. My mood floated up and then sank low. Everything was because of my master. I wondered if it was because I made a big mistake yesterday. I was afraid because I did something worthy of being scolded but hadn’t received punishment. It seemed my heart was unsettled because I was afraid of being scolded later, or perhaps tomorrow. If that wasn’t it, I couldn’t explain why I was like this. It felt as if I had swallowed a cherry tomato whole without chewing. My solar plexus was tightly blocked, and it was painful.

Niah, shoulders sagging, thrust his fingers into the soil in the field. Wriggling like a mole, he began to create a spot for the seedling. At that moment, a large palm suddenly appeared, filling his vision and blocking his fingers buried in the dirt.

“…”

Niah slowly lifted his head, following the thick forearm. As a gaze mixed with disappointment and fear turned toward him, Orca simply tilted his chin to take the place of words. His expression was nonchalant. Niah turned his eyes away again. After a moment of hesitation, he carefully lifted the seedling’s roots. Then, he gently placed it onto the palm waiting for him. The seedling, nestled in one hand, looked as small as if it were underdeveloped.

He could feel a cold, damp texture from the soil clinging to the greenery. It was a sensation completely different from the sandy fields. The cold and dampness were the same, but for some reason, warmth was transmitted from the soil resting on his palm. It also smelled similar to the scent he could catch when he was close to the Goldfish. It was natural, as he rolled around in the fields every day, whether a flower bed or a grass patch. If the scent was enough to soak into his body, it seemed he liked it quite a bit. It was hard to believe he was just being faithful to a servant’s routine, as he always had a satisfied face whenever he dealt with plants. He would go around saying things like “cute” or “pretty” with a beaming face; there was no room for doubt.

Orca sighed, feeling absurd for indulging in such delicate sentiments. However, he didn’t actually let the sigh out. It was because of the Goldfish, who was rolling his eyes around while observing his expression. It would be troublesome if he cried again. He didn’t want to be resented with words he never said, like that he hated him or didn’t need him.

Soothing him was a difficult task. Even the assessment that he was no different from the other servants felt like a heavy blow. It was an exhausting emotion, considering he was just raising one small Goldfish.

Shaking his head briefly to erase the useless thoughts, he dug into the soil just as he had seen Niah do. A rough hand scooped out a deep hole. At this, Niah abruptly grabbed him.

“Master!”

It was the loudest voice he had ever heard from him. But the one actually surprised by the sound wasn’t Orca, but Niah himself. Catching his breath and quickly shutting his mouth, Niah pulled his hand away flusteredly. After blinking for a while and hesitating, he added softly. He couldn’t speak straight because he was worried that his master might misunderstand and think he was angry.

“It’s, it’s not this deep…. The roots, you have to, you should only bury the roots.”

“Like this much?”

After he put back more than half of the soil he had scooped out to fill it, the question that followed was casual. Niah nodded vigorously and picked up the watering can. He watched quietly as the soil bubbled when he poured the water in a trickle. Even after confirming the damp hole, not knowing what to do, he stole a glance at Orca.

Orca, as if he were a servant who guessed his master’s heart and acted swiftly, planted the seedling and filled the soil on his own. Niah, who watered the loosely planted seedling, looked at him again. Orca, faced with the attitude of a Goldfish who looked like he wouldn’t say a word all day if left like this, stopped his hands abruptly. Knowing that it would have ended with the simple procedure of just covering the final bit of soil, he insisted on being taught.

“You have to teach me.”

“Ah, uh, like this…. Not too hard, but gently….”

Niah pushed the soil piled up next to the seedling to fill the empty space. Only then did Orca follow Niah and pat down the ridge. Perhaps because the seedling stem was thin, or perhaps because his hand was large, the back of Niah’s hand was also patted along with it. Their fingers intertwined and then loosened, kneading the mound of dirt.

Niah blankly watched their overlapping hands. Suddenly, heat rushed up. The sunlight was too hot for spring. Even though he was the one who said to do it gently, he suddenly applied strength and pressed down firmly. The coarse, moisture-laden soil particles became firm.

“Then this one is mine.”

“Yes?”

Niah’s attention was drawn by the firm statement. He jerked his head up and reflexively asked back. It was a statement that was seriously lacking context.

“The person who plants it is the owner.”

Realizing that what Orca was pointing at was the tomato seedling they had just planted, Niah became, conversely, confused.

“This is, originally yours, sir…. All of this is, yours….”

It was a reply as if he couldn’t accept it, but Orca didn’t explain further. He just tapped the already hardened ridge for no reason.

Niah kept his ear inclined toward him while his eyes drifted back to the seedling. Because the face he faced closely again was so splendid, his heated body became even hotter. The low, monotonously ringing voice was elegant. The faint, characteristic cool forest scent he felt was refreshing.

Niah, who was sniffing the scent subconsciously, drew back his neck. It was because he thought he must have turned red again. It was embarrassing, as it felt like he had become a pervert, just as his master had said. A preposterous worry, “What if I really turn into a tomato like this?”, occupied his mind. Sweat beaded on his forehead. It felt like summer, not spring.