ORCA 69

There was no one in those limited memories that didn’t cross the mansion’s gate. Only the changes of the seasons gathered closely together, making them lonely and yet charming. It made me feel regretful, wishing I could drink up even that bittersweet sense of solitude. If I couldn’t drink it, I wanted those empty memories to be filled only by leaning on me. The desire pooled under my tongue was rotting away, a shameless sight. Even when the vacation confirmation letter emerged from the drawer and spewed curses, I had no strength to argue back.

When did it become like this?

Orca, who had brewed the tea leaves himself to make milk tea, placed a tray of tea food on the table. Warm milk might have been better, but this was the best he could offer for now. Niah, taking the milk tea first, blinked his eyes and fiddled with the teacup. His heart, piled high with sorrow, was already out of the question; he was too busy gauging Orca’s mood.

“Sir, I….”

“Drink. It’s not hot.”

He cut him off. He could guess what Niah was about to say without even hearing it. So, rather than listen, he chose to pull up a chair and sit across from him. Only then did Niah put the teacup to his lips. The milk tea trickling down his throat tasted sweeter and more refined than usual. As his stomach warmed, his stiff body seemed to relax as well. His back and shoulders also settled comfortably. Tears he had held back so well felt like they might burst out now, so he lowered his eyelids. His neck shriveled.

“Here.”

Bread, cut into bite-sized pieces, tickled his lips. As he bit into what was offered, a savory and refreshing fragrance filled his mouth. As soon as he swallowed, he looked up at the soft touch that reached for him as if it had been waiting. His master twisted his eyebrows and asked, “Why?” His expressionless face wasn’t scary. It was okay even if he didn’t smile for him. For some reason, he felt it would be okay. His tongue felt sweet. Thanks to the warm teacup, his whole body felt cozy. He felt as if his heart, not his stomach, was full. He was terrified of just one thing: that the wish he had—to never forget this, ever—might be too greedy.

“Does it taste bad?”

Niah shook his head. “It’s delicious,” he said, his small voice coloring Orca’s boring peace just a little.

Madeleines with finely chopped cherries were popular with the Goldfish. I tapped him on the nose to stop him from carefully inspecting the tray even after he’d eaten them all by himself. After clearing the empty tray and teacup onto the trolley, I sat back down and rested my chin on my hand. The Goldfish looked much more comfortable. Vitality had returned to his deathly pale skin. His cheeks, resembling the cherry madeleines, were round and plump.

As soon as I checked his body temperature by holding just one hand, his other hand rushed to stick to me as well. The back of his hands and his palms became warm. I was a little annoyed by his eyes rolling around, trying to read my mood, but I liked the warmth being transmitted.

“Do you have nothing to do this afternoon?”

To his question, Niah thought hard before barely opening his mouth. He spoke as if he were making a wish to the stars, the moon, or some great angel. For all that, this time it was a small request.

“I have something. Uh… I want to go… see the tomatoes….”

“Okay.”

“…Together.”

Orca shook off the two hands that were clutching him tightly. The eyes that had rounded at the thought of being rejected looked up at him in a desperate manner. It was sorry to use his master, but Niah didn’t want to encounter Pepe alone. Niah gripped Orca’s thigh as if pinching it hard.

“Okay.”

At the same time as the answer, the heat that approached spread past his cheeks and ears to the back of his neck. Niah, holding onto Orca’s wrist, pulled him forward again. His cheek, leaning against the palm, puffed up like a muffin put in the oven. Orca brushed over it with his thumb. It looked as delicious as a muffin baked with strawberry jam.

The garden they went to together was fun. Pepe, whom he had been worried about, was indeed there, but because his master was by his side, he wasn’t scared. Today, he gave him praise three times. The steamed meat he ate in his master’s room instead of the dining hall was delicious, and because he told him to go only after taking a bath, he didn’t need to go down to the basement late at night. Once he let the moments of sadness and fear drift away, only a pile of happy, good things happened like gifts.

When he went to bed hugging his master’s shirt, laughter leaked out on its own. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for tomorrow to come quickly. He had always hoped the sun would rise late, but lately, he wanted the morning to arrive in a hurry. He wished the days were long and the nights were short.

He felt it would be good if his master stayed in the mansion for a long, long time. If he had to leave, he wished he would return soon so they could meet again. More than that, first of all, he wanted to sleep, wake up, and go to his master. Every time he thought of his master, he kept giggling.

“Ugh… hic, ugh….”

So, the nightmare that began as soon as he fell asleep was no different from an unpleasant guest who had flung the door open without warning.

Whenever he was sick or had been scolded particularly harshly, he always had scary dreams. The more he thought he didn’t want to have them, the more he was left alone in a deeper, darker nightmare. The nightmare was like a shadow; the more he tried to forget it, the more persistently it followed him.

Every time, he stood in a place he couldn’t recognize. Something was popping and banging in a colorless village, and someone was screaming. A tremendously loud noise came from far, far away. He just watched it. He just stood like a wooden doll, staring at the legs running somewhere.

Neither Pepe nor Adrian was there. He just stood still, without a single person there to hurt him. He stood still and looked around the street where dust was rising. Then, when his vision turned pitch black, he would snap awake.

A sudden chill settled on his body, which had become damp with sweat in that short time. He was so cold that he curled up under the blanket. It was an inexplicable fear. He hadn’t suffered anything scary, yet his heart was pounding and he was out of breath. His limbs were trembling.

The dark room made him doubt whether he had truly woken up. The closet where no light permeated was just like a square box. It was as if someone had latched the door from the outside and locked him inside. He found the candle he had hidden and lit it. The darkness retreated for a moment, but as soon as the wick died down, it pounced on him again.

Niah called this a nightmare.

Orca’s eyelids, which had been in a light sleep, slid open. It was because of the presence slowly approaching from the end of the hallway. The footsteps were slow and cautious. He took light, short steps with a narrow stride. Occasionally, the sound of him brushing against the wall mixed in. Shallow inhalations followed by short exhalations of ragged breathing could be heard. The footsteps became more hurried as they got closer. Even so, the footsteps, which were nothing if not gentle, approached while holding his breath.

There was almost no one who had business on the fourth floor of the central wing. Except for the Goldfish who came and went at any time from morning until before sleep, only a servant or two who responded to his calls or brought laundered clothes would come and go. Even then, they only secretly stopped by around midday when he was away from the room. When he returned from outside and looked, he would just find a flat basket piled high with clothes left in front of the door. In any case, there had been few people coming and going, and late at night, there was even less reason for anyone to visit.

His parents were the same. If they had something to say that necessitated visiting at this hour, they would have sent a servant. They weren’t the type to walk around alone without an attendant. Above all, because they had been going out frequently these past few days due to preparations for the party right around the corner, they were often out of the mansion. As it happened, they were away from the mansion today as well.

He was tired of the engagement talk that they repeated endlessly even while busy satisfying their vanity. The dozens of reasons they brought up every time were the same, without a single error in sequence. He knew it was more comfortable to just play along while they stayed, but he had to exert quite a bit of patience to prevent himself from inviting trouble since it had begun to grate on his nerves. He thought about ignoring them and avoiding them altogether, but since they would clearly come and badger him wherever he was in the mansion, it wasn’t a very good method. Lately, since he spent most of his time with the Goldfish by his side, there was also a large part of him that didn’t want to show him that side of his life.

Above all, regardless of his own circumstances or the late hour, he could easily identify the owner of the presence. The way of walking was familiar. It was a sound he had heard every morning and evening, at all hours.

Orca left his bed and flung the door wide open. As expected, the Goldfish was waiting for him, pressed tight against the wall in the hallway.

“Master….”

“Come here.”