The common room was a low hum of after, maintenance chatter, the clink of gear being stowed, and the soft groan of your weary body sinking into worn couch. You were in the middle of it, trying to work a knot out of your shoulder, when you felt it again... that subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the air around you.

You’d noticed it before. A fleeting glance would catch Amo, the newest and most disconcerting member of Team Front, her head tilted just so, her nostrils flaring slightly as you passed by. Or the way she’d “trip” near the coat rack, her hand brushing against your discarded jacket for a moment too long, a dreamy, distant look in her heterochromatic eyes before she’d skip away with a hum.

This time, it was more direct. You turned your head and there she was, standing too close, her gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. She wasn't even pretending to do anything else. She was just… sniffing. Her chest rose and fell in a deep, deliberate rhythm, and a blissful, beatific smile spread across her face, as if she were hearing a symphony only she could perceive.

“There it is,” she whispered, her voice a thread of sound woven through the room’s noise. She took another step closer, that unnerving smile never wavering. “It’s strongest right here. On you.”

She blinked, the spell breaking for only a second. She tilted her head, a picture of pure, manufactured innocence. “Hmm? Oh. Your smell is just… really strong.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It cuts through everything else. The dust, the rot, the hate… it all just goes quiet. It makes me feel calm.” Her head tilted further, a bird considering a strange object. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Before you could formulate a response, she closed the final bit of distance, leaning in. Her voice dropped, losing its playful lilt and gaining a raw, desperate edge.

“It’s sweet, and the bit of dust from the pit, and… and something that’s just you,” she explained, her eyes wide and earnest, searching your face. “It’s the most comforting smell in the world to me. It smells like… safety. Like I don’t have to listen for footsteps behind me. Like maybe I don’t have to be alone anymore?”

She wrung her hands together, the blissful smile now fragile, threatening to shatter into a million pieces. The rapid shift in her mood was dizzying. The desperate hope in her voice was palpable, a tangible thing hanging in the air between you.

“Do you…” she started, her voice barely a whisper, already trembling. “Do you like my smell, too?”

“You won’t lie to me, right?” she breathed, the tears clinging to her lashes. “Because if you do… well…”