That was not any perfume or artificial fragrance that could be named; it was a pure scent emanating from deep within the skin and bones, like the cleanest breeze in a springtime valley, carrying the faint sweetness and chill of all things newly born.
The fragrance was incredibly light, like an invisible veil, lingering in the air, almost there and yet not.
You had to get very close, or perhaps catch it in one of his unintentional movements, or in the instant when his clothes brushed as he turned, to capture that fleeting, cool wisp.
Strangely enough, even after Kaoru Hoshitani had been rushing about the Restaurant for three or four hours, working up a slight sweat,
when that faint perspiration seeped from his clean skin, that unique fragrance was not masked or transformed into the usual scent of sweat.
Rather, it seemed to be awakened by the subtle damp heat, mingling with the trace of salt in his sweat to create a peculiar reaction.
The sweat became a natural catalyst, lifting the clean, soapy undertones, the crisp scent of plants, and the faintest hint of fruit into sharper relief, forming an ultimate freshness wrapped in a touch of salt.
At this moment, outwardly keeping silent, taking small sips of iced Oolong Tea to disguise his inner discomfort, Kaoru Hoshitani let his long lashes droop, casting a fan-shaped shadow beneath his eyes.
He had no idea that the woman beside him, Rika Kawasaki, who appeared to be focused on her phone, was in fact greedily and secretly immersing herself in the invisible yet alluring aura around him.
Because, in truth, deep down, he was also forming the most direct, instinctive, and honest judgment about the strong, aggressive scent from Rika Kawasaki, who was just within arm’s reach…
[So stinky……]
The thought burst into his mind so abruptly, even a little rude, carrying an undeniable, physiological reaction.
It was a complex smell—a strong, salty-sour tang from the sweat of hard labor, mixed with the faint tarry particles left by charcoal smoke.
Even for the rare few with a particular fondness for unusual smells, this could only be considered a sort of carnal perversion, defined by strong and repeated sexual excitement, arousal, or satisfaction triggered by a specific scent.
But this didn’t mean that they suffered a fundamental sensory error; their olfactory systems still functioned normally, and could recognize, within the scope of general understanding, that this smell was essentially “stinky,” not “fragrant.”
In fact, for normal people, after working hard for hours in the stifling kitchen, sweating profusely and picking up a noticeable odor was almost inevitable—a physiological fact.
Sweat itself is odorless, but bacteria on the skin break down the components of sweat to produce smell.
If someone’s sweat did smell fragrant, that might actually signal a metabolic disorder that needed attention.
Even the sweat produced by Kaoru Hoshitani was fundamentally normal. It carried a faintly sour tang, just thinner and milder than most, mixed with his naturally unique body scent.
The interplay of these scents was what made Rika Kawasaki—whose sense of smell was either especially sharp or simply perceived things from a completely different angle—feel, under the influence of her mind, that he was the uniquely “fragrant and sweating” one.
But right now, what Kaoru Hoshitani felt most acutely was—Rika Kawasaki standing close by the Bar Counter, like a furnace that had just been extinguished but still radiated a searing afterheat.
The lingering heat from her body, combined with that strong, astringent sweat smell, seemed to form an invisible wall, relentlessly pressing against him, nearly overtaking the thin, clean territory of air around him.
Yet despite his nasal discomfort and silent complaints, Kaoru Hoshitani could not simply step aside to put distance between himself and the woman.
Such an action would be too obvious, too rude—practically declaring, “I can’t stand your smell,” which for a coworker, and the granddaughter of the Restaurant owner, would be a huge offense, potentially sparking instant awkwardness or unnecessary conflict.
[Should I say I need to go to the bathroom… Or pretend to tidy the umbrella stand by the entrance?]
Just as Kaoru Hoshitani was frowning slightly, tangled in his thoughts, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the chilled bottle of Oolong Tea, pondering what kind of natural yet unobtrusive excuse he could use to escape this suffocating “odor encirclement”…
A string of clear and pleasant Wind Chime sounds rang out—that was the Wind Chime hanging above the Restaurant door, swaying as the door was pushed open.
Right after, a graceful and familiar figure stepped inside from the night air, her high heels tapping softly on the floor—“tap, tap.”
“Aina, you’re here……”
Recognizing the new arrival as his girlfriend, Aina Saiten, come to pick him up after work, Kaoru Hoshitani felt as if a pardon had been granted, and hurried over.
Aina Saiten noticed her boyfriend’s urgent, almost fleeing approach—those clear eyes flickered with an almost imperceptible hint of surprise. He was more enthusiastic than usual, a little odd.
But trusting her boyfriend, she simply smiled gently.
“I still have about ten minutes before I finish work, Aina. Please wait a little. It wouldn’t be good to leave early every day.”
He gently wrapped his arms around Aina Saiten’s waist, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder—still carrying a bit of the cool night air—then looked up and spoke.
“Mhm, it’s fine.”
Aina Saiten naturally raised her arms to return the embrace, feeling the warmth and slight thinness of his back through the fabric.
All the exhaustion and tense nerves from a day of work seemed to melt away in that moment, her heart filled with a solid sense of contentment.
At that moment, Aina Saiten lifted her gaze. Over Kaoru Hoshitani’s shoulder, she keenly noticed, not far away, the sharp gaze of the woman with short blonde hair leaning against the Bar Counter.
Almost instinctively, Aina Saiten’s arms tightened around Kaoru Hoshitani’s back, her fingertips digging slightly into his shirt, as if silently staking her claim, and at the same time, warily guarding against this wild-looking woman who was standing too close to her boyfriend, as if she might snatch her beloved away at any moment.
After all, these past days, she’d been so rattled by that undeletable APP—so paranoid and on edge that her nerves felt frayed to the breaking point.
Earlier, Aina Saiten had even taken her phone to the Repair Shop, but even the professionals couldn’t figure out the cause, saying it might just be a super-powerful Virus.
As for solutions, it seemed the only option was a simple and brutal full reset…