Chapter 2: The Lost Ability

Plop.

A drop of liquid fell from a dropper onto the concentrated solution inside a flask, producing a clear sound.

The moment the liquids met, silver silk-like ribbons began dancing inside the flask.

Like a mirage.

But they were different from an ordinary mirage.

Unlike the shimmering waves created by heat, these silver ribbons drifted downward, as if moonlight were sinking into water.

As the silver ribbons dissolved into the solution, the liquid inside the flask seemed to come alive.

The previously transparent liquid gradually turned opalescent, giving off a soft glow like a pearl bathed in moonlight.

Then, suddenly, light burst from within the flask.

Like thousands of crystal prisms scattering light, the liquid released rainbow-colored waves.

It looked like a symphony of light performed by an invisible orchestra.

At the same time, fragrance began to explode from the flask in my hand, like a flower blooming in full or a symphony performed by a maestro.

When the brief explosion of light faded, a gentle pearl-colored glow remained.

Like a calm lake beneath the moon, the liquid inside the flask had reached perfect balance.

As the subtle changes within the liquid disappeared, three colors shone especially brightly at its core.

The fragrance flowing from the flask was wrapped in many delicate scents, but at its center were the aromas of three flowers capable of stirring human emotions.

The passion of a crimson rose.

The love of a violet-colored violet flower.

The temptation of a golden freesia.

These three colors formed a perfect harmony at the center of the calm light.

As the first powerful scent faded away like smoke, a hidden lingering note I had carefully concealed surged forward to deliver the information I intended directly to the brain.

Fragrance was information.

The scent flowing from the liquid was data designed to convey a message.

The perfectly blended aroma entered through the sense of smell and delivered exactly what I wanted into the mind.

Love. Passion. Temptation.

“A perfume of temptation, love, and passion. What should I name it?”

At that moment, a new perfume was born at my fingertips.

* * *

For most people, the process of creating a perfume takes days before they even begin making it.

Before creating a fragrance, perfumers go through formulation, where they design and imagine ingredient combinations, ratios, and structures.

Then comes trial, where they actually measure and combine small amounts of ingredients to test them.

Afterward, they must wait through maceration, observing how the scent changes over time.

But for me, things were different.

The tiny scents drifting from the bottles lining the laboratory.

The scent of the glass.

Even the scent of the tools.

Everything revealed its own light to me.

I merely chose them according to their colors.

Then the selected scents blended together and were reborn as colors and light through my hands.

Since the perfume was finished, I pressed the intercom and called the person who had first led me into this world of fragrance.

My teacher, Evan.

Beep. Beep.

The call rang only a few times before a familiar voice answered.

“Oh, Seodam. What is it?”

“Evan, I’ve finished what you asked for. Would you like to come see it?”

“Oh! Already? Understood. Wait a moment, I’ll be right there!”

Since Evan was coming, I placed the lid back on the flask and gently closed my eyes.

Then my thoughts drifted into the past.

***

Since birth, people had considered me an overly sensitive child.

As a baby, I would cry for no apparent reason or frown in discomfort, causing endless worry for my parents.

Naturally, they assumed I was simply sensitive.

But that misunderstanding didn’t last long.

As I grew older and learned to express myself, my parents realized that I wasn’t sensitive.

I simply possessed an extremely sharp sense of smell.

And not only could I smell things well, I could even read emotions people wanted to hide through their body scent.

I discovered my mother’s feelings one day.

“Mom, why are you upset?”

“Hm? Mom isn’t upset.”

“No. You’re lying. You’re upset… Waaah!”

“Y-Yes, Mom is upset. But how did you know that?”

“Because you smell like you’re upset.”

“What?”

Along with my extraordinary sense of smell, I also possessed a strange ability.

I could visualize scents as light and color.

Because of that, my parents stopped seeing me as a sensitive child and began seeing me as a special child.

While searching for ways to nurture me properly, they happened to meet Evan during his trip to Korea.

***

Evan had visited Korea to see how one of his perfumes was performing in local stores.

There, he noticed a boy around middle-school age sampling a newly released fragrance.

“That perfume doesn’t seem like it suits you.”

Those were the first words he ever said to me.

The sudden English surprised me, but I quickly gathered myself and answered.

“You’re right. It smells like something a mature middle-aged gentleman should wear.”

“And why do you think that?”

Evan looked intrigued.

“It feels like the scent of a man who spent his youth chasing rough adventures but is now searching for a comfortable place to rest. Like a warm yellow color at the end of a rugged gray road.”

“You can sense something like that from a fragrance?”

“Yes.”

He blinked in surprise.

Then I spoke with a disappointed expression.

“But I think it could’ve been exactly what the creator wanted if a few more notes had been added.”

“The creator wanted?”

“Yes. I don’t think he wanted a fragrance about searching for comfort. I think he wanted a fragrance about finding comfort. It only needed a few adjustments. Something like this.”

I sprayed the perfume onto a testing strip and added several natural scent samples displayed around the shop.

Since I was working on paper, the lights didn’t blend easily, so I had to shake it for quite a while.

“There. If it were like this, wouldn’t it feel like a man overwhelmed with emotion after finally discovering a place of peace? A paradise found at the end of life’s journey. The ingredients are limited, but now the yellow has become orange.”

I held the strip to his nose.

His reaction was…

“U-Um! This man is crying! I think he needs help!”

I hurriedly called over the store employees.

After he calmed down, I learned that the perfume was actually his creation.

And that he was a master perfumer at Maison de l’Étoile, the greatest perfume company in France.

After that, Evan passionately persuaded my parents.

As a result, I became his apprentice and began working at Maison de l’Étoile.

It happened during the summer vacation of my first year of high school.

***

I was lost in those memories when—

Bang!

The door to the laboratory swung open.

A familiar body scent entered.

Most people would expect the refined aroma of a nobleman from one of Paris’s greatest perfumers.

Instead, what entered my laboratory was the smoky oak scent of cheap rum mixed with the sweetness of molasses.

That scent alone told me Evan had arrived.

The colors flowing from his body scent also revealed excitement, anticipation, joy…

And a large amount of mischief.

“Joy? And mischief? Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

I spun around in my chair and saw Evan grinning mischievously.

Looking at the fifty-year-old man who still acted like a child, I sighed deeply.

He clearly had something planned.

“What is it this time, Evan? What prank are you plotting?”

“Oh? You figured it out already? That’s why you’re no fun, Seodam.”

“Sigh… I stayed up all night yesterday. Please tell me it’s a harmless prank.”

“Hahaha. Fine, fine. Now, where’s the perfume?”

“Here.”

“Hmm. A perfume of love, passion, and temptation. Just as I requested.”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll take this.”

“I have no idea what you’re planning, but fortunately it doesn’t seem like I’m the target this time. So why are you so happy?”

As soon as I handed over the perfume, the scent of mischief quickly disappeared.

Only the scent of joy remained.

When I asked about it, Evan patted my shoulder.

“My, my. It’s hard to surprise you, Seodam. Anyway, congratulations. The new Le Nez.”

“What!?”

I stared at him in shock.

Le Nez.

The highest title of respect a perfumer could receive.

A title reserved for master perfumers.

Which meant I was being officially recognized as a master perfumer by the greatest perfume company in the world.

It meant I could finally place my name proudly on my own perfume line.

“R-Really, Evan?”

“Of course. Do you know how hard it was convincing those old men? With your talent and achievements, you should’ve received it ten times already. But they kept talking about age and tradition. Those stubborn old fools.”

The “old fools” he was referring to were his friends.

The other master perfumers.

They cared about me almost as much as Evan did.

The only reason they hadn’t approved me earlier was tradition.

No one in history had become a master perfumer with less than twenty years of experience.

Apparently, Evan had finally convinced them.

Smiling, I pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you, Master. I could only come this far because of you.”

Master-perfumer training was supposed to be a strict apprenticeship.

Yet during the past five years, the only thing he had truly taught me was how to drink cheap rum in cheap bars.

Still, he was the one who had brought me here.

My teacher.

So I couldn’t help feeling grateful.

As I hugged him, he laughed.

“Oh my. To think I’d hear Seodam call me Master. Is tomorrow the day I die?”

“Can we just enjoy this touching moment for once?”

“Cough! Fine, fine.”

Trying to shut him up, I hugged him even tighter.

Then he coughed.

“Did I squeeze too hard? Or is he catching a cold? There’s a scent I don’t recognize…”

Perfumers had to be careful about catching colds.

His cough bothered me slightly.

But the joy of becoming a master perfumer, standing on the same level as my teacher, quickly pushed my worries away.

Afterward, Evan disappeared for a while to deliver the perfume I had made for someone.

When he returned, we drove to London, where his family estate was located.

There, we celebrated my promotion with his favorite curry and cheap rum.

“To our genius, the youngest Le Nez in history!”

Behind the sweet scent of molasses lingered the smoky aroma of oak.

* * *

Beep. Beep.

A loud machine alarm.

Suddenly, air rushed into my lungs.

“Gah!”

At the same time, something unfamiliar entered my vision.

“The ceiling?”

A white ceiling.

Completely unfamiliar.

Confused voices echoed around me.

“H-He’s awake! Patient, can you hear me? Doctor! Doctor!”

The woman’s voice disappeared.

Then a deep male voice called my name.

The light of a small medical flashlight shone into my eyes.

“Mr. Seodam, can you hear me?”

My lips felt dry and cracked.

I answered weakly.

“W-Where am I?”

“You’re in a hospital.”

“A hospital?”

“My last memory was celebrating with Evan and heading toward his house…”

I couldn’t understand what was happening.

Then, moments later, the memories returned.

After drinking with Evan late into the night and sleeping at his house, both of us had developed a high fever.

Evan’s condition had been worse than mine.

I had called an ambulance and accompanied him to the hospital.

Just as I remembered everything, the doctor explained.

“You were in a coma for three months due to COVID complications.”

“What? COVID? What’s that?”

“It’s an illness similar to the flu that began spreading worldwide three months ago.”

“That doesn’t make any sense…”

“You’ve only just awakened, so it’s natural to be confused. Get some more rest.”

“…Okay.”

Looking down, I saw countless IV tubes attached to my body.

My body itself had become frighteningly thin.

The disease was unfamiliar, but I felt relieved simply to be alive.

I closed my eyes.

Then I immediately opened them again in shock.

A moment earlier, I hadn’t realized it.

But there were no colors.

No lights.

The glow from the disinfectant smell.

The colors flowing from the nurses’ body scents.

Even the colors of the foul odor coming from a nearby trash can.

My world had become gray and colorless.

I couldn’t smell anything at all.

It felt as though the disease called COVID had completely stolen my sense of smell.

“M-My sense of smell!”

The doctor, who had been about to leave, hurried back.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t smell anything.”

“There have been reports that some COVID patients temporarily lose their sense of smell. Don’t worry too much. It should come back.”

I believed him.

But even after time passed and part of my sense of smell returned, my ability to see scents as light and color never came back.

And my ability wasn’t the only thing I lost forever.

COVID took both my gift…

And my teacher, Evan.

That truth began tormenting me again and again, just as the aftereffects of cheap rum leave a painful hangover.