Not a Scent at All

A foul scent. No—calling it a scent was too kind. It was a stench.

"Look at her scrunching her nose."

Oh. That was Ethan's voice.

The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp smack rang out, skin meeting skin.

"Don't touch her."

"Wow. You are seriously petty."

"You want to touch her, you ask Yeon first."

"No. Not even if she says yes."

Listening to the childish squabble of three oversized men, the corner of Yeon's mouth lifted, just barely. She rolled her eyes once, twice behind gently closed lids, then slowly looked straight ahead. The first thing she saw was a stark white ceiling—the thing she hated most, the thing she was sick to death of. The second was the tangle of wires running from every part of her body.

"Ah... ah..."

It was more than enough to drag the locked ward back around her. Fear seized Yeon, and she jerked, trying to move.

"Sleep that deep, and she wouldn't notice if someone carried her off."

Seol-woo brushed her disheveled hair back, trying to settle her.

Told me not to, and look at him.

Ethan shot a glare at the easy touch and dropped into the folding chair with a thud.

"Is this a hospital?"

The room opened wide around her: a bed in a plush leather frame, a sofa built for several people, the latest appliances, even a small kitchen for cooking. It was nothing like that cramped little room of less than four hundred square feet. The clothes on her, though, were unmistakably a patient's gown.

"We brought you in for tests. You've been sick, Yeon. While we're at it, they'll run the rest of the exams too."

Chen, Ethan, and Seol-woo were all right there with her, and still the anxiety the trauma fed her would not fully loosen its grip. Yeon clasped her hands tight.

"There's so much of it. Hanging all over me."

Forehead, earlobe, nose, throat, chest, abdomen, arms, and legs—sensors of every kind clung to her and swayed, cumbersome, with every shift.

"You were in the middle of a test. They'll start it again once you fall asleep. Want me to have them take these off for a bit? You should eat dinner."

Perhaps it was Chen's gentle voice. Her racing heart began, little by little, to find its own pace again.

"You need to eat a lot today. After the sleep study, you'll have to go completely empty before the next exam."

"I'm really good at going hungry!"

As if that were something to boast about. She had answered Ethan's teasing with both fists clenched tight—then caught the way the air had gone quiet, and let an awkward smile slip out.

"You don't have to sound so delighted about a thing like that."

Yeon smiled too easily. As a child she had beamed so Jang Se-hee—the woman she called Mom—wouldn't hate her, and after they locked her in the hospital she laughed without stopping, afraid that if she didn't she might want to die. She had endured that way for so long that somewhere along the line it had simply become a habit.

"What do you want to eat? Just say the word."

Ethan, seated on the opposite side from Seol-woo, gathered his wallet and phone.

"Anything's fine for me."

"There's no such thing as anything. Every day you're in here, you name one thing. I'll go get it."

He pressed her, already half out of his seat, and Yeon's eyes darted, searching.

"Um... a hamburger?"

"Classic kid palate. Knew it."

"Doesn't matter what kind, right? I'll pick."

Ethan thought of the handmade-burger place he'd spotted in the hospital annex, and the moment he stepped out of the room a crowd of medical staff came pouring in.

"Move it, you bastards. How am I supposed to examine anyone with you hulking around her?"

"You just looked her over a minute ago."

"The patient's awake. Of course I'm looking again. This is Professor Kim Seong-tae, neurosurgery. This is Professor Park Eun-joo, neuropsychiatry. Both of them are authorities everyone knows."

"Good day! I'm Kim Seong-tae, chief of neurosurgery. It's an honor to meet you!"

"Hello. I'm Park Eun-joo."

"Hello. I'm Kwon—no. Sun Woo-yeon."

Seol-woo was long used to older people bowing their heads in front of him, and only tipped his chin. Yeon, faced with doctors who looked a good thirty years her senior, offered her manners at once. When that small face peeked out from beside him, the lined-up staff startled, pupils widening. It was a face so picture-perfect that admiration nearly slipped out of them on its own. Seol-woo and Chen were hardly lacking in looks, but Yeon was cut from a different cloth.

"Why did you bring so many people? It's too much."

The young residents' eyes landed on Yeon without any attempt at subtlety. Seol-woo's mood soured, and he moved to block her from view again.

"A distinguished personage has graced us with a visit, so of course everyone tagged along."

"Next time, the three of you only."

"All right. Nice to meet you, Miss Sun Woo-yeon. I'm Jang Eun-tae, your attending. How are you feeling?"

"Good."

"Here. It's a basic intake form, so take your time reading it."

There were too many difficult words; she was afraid it would be hard. Yeon hid that embarrassing thought and gave a small nod.

"Yes."

"The kid needs to eat, so let's get these off her for a bit. The real test has to be done in the sleep lab anyway, doesn't it? Put them back on then."

"Right. Today she needs to eat."

Eun-tae peeled the attachments off her body one by one. As the long wires came away she felt noticeably lighter, and Yeon picked up the form.

"When did the symptoms start?"

"Symptoms?"

"Mm. When did you start getting sick."

Park Eun-joo, introduced as the professor of neuropsychiatry, was the one who had spoken first.

"Just... when I was little. There was a time I fell asleep all of a sudden and got hurt."

"Is that why you were admitted to the psychiatric hospital?"

"I did take the medicine they gave me there, but I don't know."

"And did you know what kind of medicine it was when you took it?"

Yeon slowly shook her head. If she didn't take the pills, they didn't give her food, so she had forced them down without ever knowing what they were. Except at mealtimes and during a brief stretch of free time, her hands and feet were bound, and she slept half a day at the short end, a full day at the long. Only after she met Seol-woo did she come face to face again with what the sleep disorder actually was.

"Do you happen to remember which hospital? The name of the doctor in charge, or a nurse."

"No. I don't."

For no clear reason her wrist began to ache, and Yeon rubbed at it. The shackles that had tormented her for seven years were gone, and it still didn't feel real. What was money, that it had to smash one person's entire life to pieces? Chen listened in silence. The pity in his eyes turned to anger.

"Burgers are here. Chicken too, as a bonus. Oh—hello, Dr. Jang."

"All right, go ahead and eat. I'll be back around nine, so please fill out the form."

"Yes. Thank you."

"We'll get out of your way."

The staff who had packed the room filed out in a rush. Ethan set two large bags on the table in front of the sofa and started pulling the food out. The sweet-savory smell of teriyaki and toasted oil drifted up. Eyes bright, Yeon climbed down from the bed and sat on the sofa. Seol-woo, who had been hovering for fear she might collapse again, took the seat beside her. A burger, unwrapped and appetizing, was set down in front of her.

"I bought plenty, so eat, and then eat more. Have the chicken too."

Yeon nodded hard, up and down.

"Eating's the best part."

She clapped, small and quick, around a smile she couldn't hold down. She looked like someone who had the whole world.

"It's been so long since I've had this. Thank you so much for letting me eat something delicious every day."

"Nothing to thank us for. Just eat it and enjoy it."

Seol-woo, slipped back from nagging uncle to the tender oppa she knew, swept her bothersome long hair behind her and held out a cola. She packed a whole burger away in a blink—munch, munch—then worked her cheeks hard around the bulge that had swollen almost past what they could hold.

"Here. One more."

A chicken drumstick was already in one hand. A fresh burger went into the other. It was something to watch, the way she bit chicken, then burger, then chicken again. Could she even digest it, eating that fast and that desperate? Was her stomach simply large for such a small frame? Thoughts like that rose one after another. Before anyone quite noticed, Yeon had reached for a third burger. There was nothing unlovable about the greed, but it worried him all the same.

"Aren't you eating too much?"

The burger was back on the table before Seol-woo had even finished the sentence. The one startled by how fast she reacted was Seol-woo himself.

"When she's eating, just leave her be."

Ethan's scolding followed right behind.

"Sun Woo-yeon. Are you scared of me?"

The distance closed in an instant, the way it had in the hotel suite. Yeon flinched and drew back.

"N-no."

"I can't stand people who lie."

Seol-woo stared at her, his eyes gone sharp.

"Of course she's scared, when you look at her like that."

"That's what I'm saying."

Chen and Ethan, leaned against the sofa in the exact same posture, clicked their tongues.

"It's not like that. I thought if I listened well, I could keep living like this. If someone says not to do something, then I shouldn't do it."

"It's all right, Yeon. Don't mind Cha Seol-woo. Just eat."

She steadied her trembling chest and explained, clear and careful. Something surged up in Chen, and he set the burger back into her small hand. Yeon stole a glance at Seol-woo, reading his face.

"I didn't mean for you to stop. You were going so fast, and eating so much—I was afraid you'd make yourself sick. Afraid you were already full and still forcing it down. That's why I asked."

He smiled as if to reassure her, and drew back. Yeon started eating again. Three complicated gazes tangled in the empty air. The greed for food, and the other behaviors that weren't quite right, worried them—but none of it looked like something that would be easily fixed.

Han Seo-jun searched his own name, skimmed the articles uploaded that day, and scrolled down into the comments.

Among the flood of well-wishes hoping he would recover soon, one malicious comment of unknown origin jumped out. Dozens of dislikes and hundreds of rebuttals had piled onto it, but his head was in a bad enough place that even a single comment like this was enough to stress him.

"Why are you going out of your way to find that and read it?"

"I wasn't exactly looking for it. It's just too easy to see, hyung."

Seo-jun gnawed at a fingernail and kept glancing toward the door. Min-jun watched him with pity and let out a long sigh. Seo-jun had been modeling since he was seventeen. Ten years on, he was a top star who could shake the whole country. His obsessive fans outnumbered those of idol groups, and where the fans ran that deep, so did the antis. The mental strain grew by the day. He had begun to sour on a job that left him no private life at all.

"While you're admitted, let's get you in for a psych consult. This hospital's VIP ward is famous for tight security. There's a dedicated doctor, and the system is good."

"It leaks no matter where you are. I don't want gossip for no reason."

"Jun-ah. Don't be like that. Just try it once."

Min-jun had started as a fiercely devoted manager and was now the head of a major agency. He was also Seo-jun's own older brother. Seo-jun caught the dark circles sunk deep beneath his brother's eyes, and in the end he nodded. He felt sorry for the man who must have been sick with worry, watching a younger brother hunt down sleeping pills and tranquilizers without a prescription.

"They said there's nothing really wrong with your body, right?"

"Yeah. Aside from the bruises."

Knew it. The comment he had read earlier hadn't been wrong. He wanted rest so badly it ached. Even one week—he needed to hide from people's eyes. If he had known it would get this bad, he never would have taken the project.

"Are there a lot of reporters out front?"

"Reporters, fans, the whole lot of them, wall to wall. They still can't get in here. There's someone on the ward who needs special attention, so they say security is two or three times the usual."

"Haah. I'm already suffocating. Isn't it funny? I wanted to be alone somewhere with nobody around, and now that I'm actually in the hospital I'm the one who feels trapped."

"I heard there's a private terrace at the end of the hall. Let's step out."

"What if they've got a drone up?"

"Enough, little brother. Get up."

The handsome face didn't shine anymore. It had always been work that made him glad, that made him happy. How was he supposed to climb out of a slump like this? At Min-jun's urging, Seo-jun finally got out of bed and dragged the IV stand along behind him.

The moment he appeared, the faces of the three nurses at the desk bloomed bright. Ask for an autograph or a photo and they might never sit at a VIP desk again. They held it in and took him in with their eyes alone.

"If every day were like today, I wouldn't have a wish left."

"It's a whole flower garden. All we ever see are old chairmen and wives throwing their weight around, and then this falls in our laps."

"First CEO Cha Seol-woo, and now Han Seo-jun. A real feast for the eyes."

A slow afternoon. The nurses were drinking coffee and gossiping when a huge shadow fell across them.

"Have you seen Yeon?"

"Sorry?"

"A7. Sun Woo-yeon. Blonde."

"Oh! That patient went out to the terrace a little while ago."

"You let her go alone? You're not watching her properly? If she collapses out there, are you going to take the blame?"

Ethan had only stepped out to Felice for a moment. He had come back to an empty room, and the shock of it sent him charging to the desk, voice raised. Startled by the threatening tone, the nurses gaped like goldfish, mouths opening and closing with nothing coming out. She was under special watch, yes—but no diagnosis had come back yet, and they hadn't known she was someone who shouldn't be walking around on her own.