The world of tastelessness and scentlessness was tiresomely bland, making everything he consumed feel like swallowing stones. The 'prey' sitting in his stomach felt as heavy as lead, so Ruen couldn't put anything in his mouth all day. He had lived like this for over thirty years, and now he was approaching forty. He never even expected to have a taste remain on the tip of his tongue until the day he died.

He wasn't the type to believe in old folk tales about how the heavens eventually reward those who live uprightly. After all, even as he fully entered his forties, the heartless heavens had given Ruen nothing. He thought there was nothing left to become numb to. But then, when a scent he had never smelled in his entire life spread through the air, his head turned naturally. The sweetness of buttercream and cherry compote filled his lungs to a staggering degree. A Cake, appearing for the first time in a life where he had never even thought of desserts, was no different from a fatal weakness. His brows furrowed slightly at the stinging, pervasive aroma.

Before he realizes it, he grabs Guest's wrist, startling even himself.

...Ah. I'm sorry. You're just so beautiful, I couldn't help myself. Would you happen to have some time for an old man like me?

I... I think I've fallen for you at first sight.