“This is too much effort. Just get the bigger one—it’ll barely be any different in price,” Saito chimed in.
“It’s not ‘too much effort’! Being careless with money always leads to ruin! One day, you’ll be drowning in massive debt, wandering the frozen back alleys in the middle of the winter, thinking, ‘If only I hadn’t bought the expensive soy sauce, I wouldn’t have ended up this way.’ But by then, it’ll be too late,” Akane scolded.
“I don’t know if soy sauce has ever put anyone into crippling debt,” quipped Saito.
“Columbus went into debt just to find pepper. If pepper can cause financial ruin, then so can soy sauce!” Akane’s tone was dead serious.
In her need to prove her point, she seemed unaware that they were no longer living in the Age of Exploration.
“Hold on, let me calculate it on my phone.”
Still holding the soy sauce bottles, Akane fumbled with her school bag, trying to pull out her smartphone. She looked moments away from dropping everything. With a sigh, Saito took the soy sauce from her hand to prevent disaster.
Akane tapped on her phone. She narrowed her eyes.
“Right… Both come out to approximately 0.884 yen per milliliter. The 500-milliliter bottle is technically 0.0004 yen cheaper per milliliter, so we’ll go with this one.”
“That’s…way too nitpicky,” said Saito.
“There’s a famous proverb, you know—‘He who laughs at 0.0004 yen will one day weep over 0.0004 yen,’” said Akane.
“Bullshit, no there isn’t!”
Saito was familiar with the saying “He who laughs at a single yen will one day cry over a single yen,” but this was pretty ridiculous. Akane was serious to a fault. Saito had realized as much when they discussed household chore responsibilities, but seeing it in action like this made him wonder—wasn’t this level of obsessiveness exhausting for her?
As they continued through the store, they noticed that a crowd had gathered around the fresh meat section.
“What’s going on?” Akane wondered.
“No idea,” Saito replied.
They decided to investigate. A bevy of shoppers—all seasoned-looking housewives—radiated an intense aura of battle readiness. The tension in the air was so thick that Saito briefly wondered if some kind of battle to the death was about to begin. One middle-aged woman, her muscular legs planted firmly to the tile floor, was doing squats—as if warming up for a fight.
From the back of the store, a store employee emerged, pushing a cart stacked high with packs of chicken. Bright red lettering on a yellow sign practically screamed, Timed sale! Chicken breasts—fifty yen per pack!
“We have plenty of meat at home, so we don’t really need—” Saito began, but when he glanced at Akane, he gasped, swallowing the rest of his words. Akane’s eyes burned with fierce determination, her fists clenched tight. A fire had been ignited within her soul.
“These timed sales have defeated me every time. They sell out in an instant, and I’ve never managed to take advantage before. Today, I will reclaim my honor!” Akane’s voice was low and intense.
“But…we already have plenty of meat at home—”
“That’s not the point,” she cut him off sharply. “When something is cheap, you buy it and freeze it. That way, you can live victoriously and with pride,” proclaimed Akane.
A high school girl…staking her pride on a timed supermarket sale. Akane shoved her school bag into Saito’s arms, her expression stony and resolute.
“Watch closely, Saito. You are about to witness history. A legend will be born today.”
Her fierce gaze was locked onto the fresh meat section. Suddenly, she stepped out onto the battlefield. At that exact moment—ding-ding-ding! The store clerk rang a bell, signaling the start of the melee. The crowd roared.
“Roooooaaarrrrrr!”
Saito was not hallucinating. He actually heard the bellow—a chorus of housewives, their voices deep and primal, echoed through the store like the howl of a pack of gorillas. These were true warriors. Saito had assumed that housewives were delicate, but that misconception had been corrected today. Their biceps were in fact sculpted from daily floor mopping. Their quadriceps were developed by carrying heavy groceries, and their willpower had been sharpened to steel through the constant struggle to protect their families.
Armed with overwhelming combat prowess, the housewives charged at the fifty-yen-per-pack chicken breasts. Muscles flexed as they smashed their carts forward, attempting to snatch up packs of chicken. It was a no-holds-barred, every-woman-for-herself, pure battle for survival. Akane’s small frame was instantly swallowed up by the chaotic mob.
“W-wait! Stop—!”
“I-I’m sorry—!”
“Please—!”
“I can’t take it—!” Akane’s desperate, scattered cries reached Saito in broken fragments, barely audible over the wartime din. By the time he snapped out of his shock, the cart’s mountain of chicken had vanished.
Akane staggered out from the fray, looking like she had just barely survived being attacked by a pack of dragons. Her hair was a mess, her uniform was disheveled, and her spirit seemed drained. Yet, in her trembling hand, she held something up—
Not chicken.
It was the sale sign that sat on top of the cart.
Her shoulders shook as the realization hit her, and she sniffed in disappointment.
“Wait—don’t cry. I’ll go next.” Saito stepped forward with determination, setting his sights on the battlefield.
At that moment, the store employee emerged from the back once more, pushing another cart into the aisle.
This time, it wasn’t chicken. It was pork belly. One pack…for twenty-five yen.
The Amazonians who had won their chicken in the previous battle snapped their heads toward it. Their eyes gleamed like starving wolves, ready to devour their prey. Surely, a male high school student couldn’t be overpowered by a crowd of middle-aged women. That was the thought going through Saito’s mind until he moment he stepped into the battlefield. A voice whispered right next to his ear, chilling and low.
“Kid…this ain’t a place for you…”
Saito froze. The sharp glares of the warrior housewives pierced him from all directions. The sheer pressure emanating from them was suffocating. Before he could even react—they charged. Slamming into him. Crushing him. Stampeding over him. He was knocked aside, pushed, trampled, and torn apart amid the merciless tide of shoppers. It was all Saito could do to shield his vital organs—and even that was nearly impossible.
A moment later, the crowd spat out the battered and broken Saito. After the storm of shoppers had swept through, only two bodies remained—Saito and Akane, both collapsed on the supermarket floor. It was…overwhelming. There had never been a chance of victory against such brutality. They had faced the might of the unstoppable force of the bargain-hunting housewives—and lost completely. Realizing the absurdity of their situation, Saito felt laughter bubble up inside him—setting aside despair, it was actually pretty hilarious.
“We’re so pathetic,” blurted Akane.
“Yeah…what the hell were we even doing?” Saito responded.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Akane guffawed so hard, Saito could see tears in her eyes. It was the first time they had ever genuinely laughed together from the bottom of their hearts. Even their defeat…had been a joint effort. Their hair was a mess, their clothes were in shambles, and yet neither of them felt all that bad about it.
Saito was surprised at how nice it felt to simply laugh with Akane.
Akane stood up, dusting off the hem of her skirt.
“Well, there was no helping it today.”
Then, with determination in her voice, she clenched her fists.
“Next time, we will win!”
“You’re planning on giving it another go?” Saito marveled at her resilience.
“Of course. It’s survival of the fittest in this world,” stated Akane.
“I’m out,” said Saito.
“Nope. You’re coming with me,” Akane insisted, tilting her head, her gaze narrowing mischievously as she peered into his face.
It was a rare, playful expression. And before he even realized it—Saito found himself nodding.
As they continued shopping, Saito and Akane arrived at the deli aisle. The air was filled with the irresistible aroma of something sizzling, drawing the pair’s attention. A store employee was grilling sausages on a hot plate, skewering them with toothpicks and carefully arranging them on a small sampling tray. Akane kept sneaking furtive glances at the sausages, clearly interested.
“You want to try one?” Saito asked.
“N-no,” said Akane.
“Really? Then what’s that drool on your chin?”