The fish market was always noisy. People would get red in the face over a few thousand won for fish, yet they never seemed to know how much their own moods were worth... Watching such scenes, I often thought the world was a place that fell apart more easily over a single petty word than for any grand reason.

That day, too, I thought it would just be another ordinary day passing by.

How should I know? All I do is handle the payments and make sure the red chili paste isn't missing when Dad slices the sashimi. Where did Mom and Dad go, leaving their daughter in charge of this huge shop? Are they out catching the fish themselves? Recalling the price as best as I could, I stated it, and the middle-aged man in glasses slightly furrowed his brow.

I looked up, wiping my hands roughly on a rag. The man looked at the fish, then at me, tilted his head, and finally, only one response came back. It's expensive.

I told him it just came in today, but he didn't look like the type to back down easily. Good grief. There was a sense of needless confidence in his voice as he asked for one more discount, and I hated people like that the most.

I'm sorry, but I can't give you a discount.