ORCA 66

Niah, who woke up early, burrowed into the shirt he had been holding. He was still wearing it to sleep every night because he hadn’t yet returned the one Orca had let him wear. As he put it off day after day, it had become quite a long time ago. The very next day after he returned home wearing only the shirt, he missed the chance to give it back because he received an order not to come to him.

Niah sniffled, twitching his nose, and yawned. The shirt, from which even the faint lingering scent had vanished, just smelled of fabric. Feeling a sense of regret, he hugged it tightly before sitting up.

After washing up neatly, he adjusted his attire in front of the door repeatedly. He tried combing his damp hair and brushing off dust here and there. For some reason, he hesitated to pull down the door handle today. He had only come to prepare for the bath as he always did, but he was so nervous that his bones creaked. It was serious. He felt nauseous. He felt as fluttery as he had the first time he entered his master’s room. He felt as if he should go and throw up before coming back.

He pinched the door handle and took a deep breath. He planned to enter after counting to ten, tapping his heel in rhythm with the numbers. However, before he even reached ten, a yelp escaped him first. If Orca, who couldn’t wait any longer, hadn’t flung the door open, he could have gone in after just three more counts.

“What are you doing not coming in?”

Niah was pulled inside, still holding the door handle. His body staggered in the sudden situation, and he floundered. Orca skillfully caught him as he flailed his arms and legs to keep from falling. Niah, who had practically collapsed into his arms, pushed against his solid chest and steadied himself on his own feet. Even though this happened frequently, his heart hammered, and his whole body flushed hot. He bowed his head deeply to hide his reddened face, calmed his rampaging heart, and tried to act as if nothing was wrong.

“I, I was, going to come in, just now, uh…. Ah, good morning, sir….”

Of course, it didn’t go well. He had no talent for hiding such things.

“Yeah.”

Orca, who patted the back of the head of the Goldfish who had turned into a tomato since morning, pushed the door shut with a thud. Wet hair wound around his fingers. He seemed to have tried to dry it, but it was far from fluffy.

The time it took for the bathtub—which was larger than a bed—to fill with water was equivalent to the time it took to walk from the fourth floor of the central wing to the west wing’s distillery. Niah, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, grasped the edge of the tub and peered inside. The stream of water poured down loudly. His hunched back shivered from time to time. He kept glancing sideways, unable to sit still.

“Why?”

The gaze that had been stealing glimpses of Orca was immediately submerged underwater. Unlike his blunt tone, a thick, soft towel was drying his wet hair. It was a clumsy yet affectionate movement. It was a gesture like handling a dry twig that would break if flicked. Niah tried to shake his head to say it was nothing, but eventually opened his mouth.

“Just…. Because you’re here, sir, a little, so…. And I could have done it myself….”

He was worried about his master, who was sitting on the tile floor. It would be nice if he sat on the sofa, but for some reason, even his master was sitting on the floor. The tiles had been wiped clean, but his heart still felt uneasy in one corner. He had no memory of working in other mansions, but it seemed like an unusual thing for a noble to sit on the floor.

When he thought about it, it wasn’t natural for a master to dry a servant’s hair, either. If he reasoned that way, he shouldn’t have asked to go see the tomatoes together, either.

But he went with me yesterday….

Suddenly, as he thought he couldn’t, he felt dejected. In fact, he liked sitting side-by-side like this, and he liked the kind touch ruffling his hair, so he wanted to be in this unusual situation every single day if he could. He knew it wasn’t allowed, but an excessive greed that if he just didn’t pester him, it would be fine, refused to die down.

“You don’t like it?”

Niah turned his head at the touch that stopped simultaneously with those words. An honest answer came out without hesitation. It was because he feared that if he hesitated even for a brief moment, his master would quit forever. He didn’t want to face the door with the deadbolt locked ever again.

“No. I don’t dislike it. I like it.”

“Then stay still.”

Niah nodded quickly, turned to face Orca, and knelt down. He vowed to himself that he would never ask if this was strange until his master left. At the odd sign from the Goldfish, who suddenly made a resolute expression, Orca wrapped both cheeks with the towel. The Goldfish was as quiet as if trapped in a white clam.

“What are you thinking about?”

Niah, who smiled brightly, wiggling the corners of his mouth, feigned ignorance. He only gently overlapped his hand over Orca’s hand.

He pulled out any clothes he could grab and hung them on a chair. After scanning the uniform hanging on the very first hanger, Orca closed the wardrobe door. He had only distanced himself for a little over a month, but the blue uniform felt awkward. It felt as if Rosselia, where only orange hues ran wild, had pushed away all other colors in the world.

He tapped on the stationery lying on the vanity. It was a reply from his unit regarding the letter he had sent a few days ago. At the very bottom of the content praising his hard work, ritualistic words permitting an extension of his leave were added. Spring had only just reached its peak, but the early-arriving summer was already announcing its end.

He swept back his damp hair with the towel. The calm expression reflected in the long mirror looked like a stranger’s. It was a face he was seeing for the first time. It was laughable that he, who had considered even three or four days to be long, was now describing a “month” as merely a short time.

Perhaps it was something foreseen from the moment he mocked the “orange” wobbling while holding a broom as tall as himself as an idiot. Now, he was enjoying the small commotion that idiot made, so he couldn’t really call him that anymore. If he were to call the Goldfish an idiot even now, it was obvious that he, who followed that Goldfish around, would be an even bigger idiot.

He could hear the footsteps of the Goldfish pacing at the entrance of the dressing room. He was probably trying to move quietly in his own way, but it wasn’t so to him. There was no door at the entrance of the dressing room, so the sound was even clearer. His gait, circling the same spot as if he had some urgent business, was frantic. He let out a dry laugh before he could even ask for what sort of trivial reason he was doing that again.

Orca put the letter away in a drawer and shook the moisture from his hair. Niah had rubbed his hair persistently until it was fluffy, but he himself had wiped his only roughly, just enough so water wouldn’t drip. After that, he immediately took off his robe and began to put on his clothes.

“Um, sir…. May I come in…?”

Niah, who had knocked on the wall, asked cautiously as if it were a difficult request. Orca’s gaze, as he was fastening his trouser buckle, turned toward the entrance. This was an unexpected visit, as he had never called him into the dressing room, nor had Niah ever asked to enter before. He only occasionally went in and out alone when taking away laundry or coming to tidy up.

It was normal for nobles to receive a servant’s help for every single thing, from putting on clothes to taking them off, but Orca did not make Niah do such things. It was partly because he had become accustomed to living without assistance, but also because he didn’t think it would be particularly helpful. Doing it himself was much faster. Even if he received help from a Goldfish who didn’t even reach his chin, it was obvious that it would only take longer.

Orca, without even thinking about his own massive size, voiced a scathing assessment that would have made Niah sad if he had heard it. Even while thinking such things, the answer that flowed out was, of course, positive.

“Come in.”

Niah, having asked for permission, did not immediately rush in but poked his head out instead. He hadn’t been able to step forward readily for fear that he might be standing there completely naked. After confirming that he was well-dressed below, Niah entered timidly and stood. Even so, it was only a single step. Niah, who had pondered for a moment, threw out another question that made what he had been worrying about just a moment ago seem meaningless.

“I thought I’d help you get dressed…. Should I help you…?”

“I’m all dressed, oh…. Yeah. Come here.”

Orca, after contemplating something internally, reversed himself and called Niah. Seeing the Goldfish approaching slowly, he felt he understood the intention behind him acting differently than usual. He thought, so that’s why he had been chattering so much since a while ago. He didn’t know if he wanted praise or if he was still bothered by what happened the other day, but either way, the reason was of the same sentiment.

“Sir, is the water not too hot? Should I turn on the cold water?”

“Sir, should I add more bath salts?”