The Smell of Watermelon

Watermelon.
“What?”
It smells like watermelon.
“Oh. Yeah.”
Rain and tulip blossoms. Cut grass. That must be the equation for watermelon.
“It does smell like watermelon, doesn’t it?”
A character from a book might say this is a smell of childhood.
“Nostalgia.”
But I cannot.
“I hardly remember any smells from childhood.”
Expect the smell of a stopped up nose. Nasally smell.
“Oil, too. Oil from my nose.”
Together, a familiar smell.
“I still smell that. I like it now. Sometimes I hope for that smell. I rub my nose to create it.”
A familiar smell.
“Futsuka, is this called a childhood memory?”