The Sushi Buffet Incident
Friday passed in the usual back-and-forth bickering with Hyunseo. We stayed up late playing on both the computer and the game console, only stopping after Mom and Dad’s lights went out. Thanks to that, neither of us opened our eyes until Saturday afternoon. It was the start of the long weekend that followed Children’s Day.
Hyunseo and I woke up at 11:39 a.m.
“Well, look who finally decided to get up.”
“If you’re awake, hurry up and wash your face and get dressed.”
The moment the light flicked on in our room, Mom and Dad’s voices overlapped like they’d been waiting for this exact moment. They were already washed and dressed, which meant we were now expected to head straight out for lunch.
I sprayed some water on my hair, ran a comb through it, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and threw on the bare minimum of clothes. We piled into Dad’s car and headed for the busy downtown intersection. The underground parking lot there was so cramped and steep that even someone who’d never driven before could tell it was a nightmare. Yet when we took the elevator up, a perfectly normal buffet waited on the fourth floor.
Of course, it being a holiday, the place was packed. Even though the buffet was tucked away in a fairly out-of-the-way spot, there was still a line.
“Welcome. How many?”
“Four.”
“Four…? Yes, please wait a moment.”
Dad handled the reservation at the entrance. With a polite nod from the staff, the waiting began. We sat near the restaurant entrance, and an inexplicable restlessness started creeping up on me. I couldn’t keep my legs still—my knees bounced, my heels tapped the floor over and over.
People who had finished paying walked out carrying the scent of food with them. Others went in to replace them. My newly sensitive nose could almost tell exactly what each person had eaten. Urghhh…
My whole body twisted at the smells assaulting my nose. Meanwhile, the rest of my family sat there calmly scrolling on their phones like nothing was wrong. Why were they all so composed? Was I the only one suffering like this? I wrapped both arms around my stomach and tried to endure it. I hadn’t realized an empty stomach could be this unbearable.
“Table for four is ready.”
The moment the staff member spoke, my eyes snapped open. It felt like salvation had finally arrived.
Finally!
I shot up like a compressed spring the second I heard those words. Our table was tucked in a corner far from the food trays—apparently the only spot left.
“You have a one-hour time limit. You may begin whenever you’re ready.”
The smell of raw fish and countless other dishes filled the sushi buffet. These days, calling it a sushi buffet was almost misleading—most places like this carried every random item you’d find at a regular hotel buffet. My tail, hidden under the compression wrap beneath my clothes, gave an excited little twitch. I’d done all the necessary prep before leaving the house: tail safely bound, fox ears hidden under a beanie. My hearing was muffled, but with how sharp it had become, it wasn’t a real problem.
For my first plate I went straight for a full sushi course.
“Hmm, hmm-hmm.”
I even made myself a little dish of soy sauce, humming as I picked up my chopsticks back at the table. I was the first one to return. Hunger won out immediately—I popped a piece of sushi straight into my mouth. The rice grains broke apart softly, the white fish firm between my teeth. Before the satisfaction could fade, my chopsticks kept moving without pause.
“Whoa, why’d you only bring back sushi?”
I was on my third piece when Mom returned and stared at my plate in shock.
“Huh? Whyyy?”
“You should get a variety of things.”
She set her own plate down and suggested I try taking a bit of everything. I opened my mouth to argue, then looked at her plate and lost the words. It was stacked at least two layers high. If anything, she was the one who’d gone overboard with variety.
In the end I gave up on arguing and just scolded her instead.
“Why’d you bring so much at once…?”
“It’ll be a pain to wash all those dishes. You should use fewer plates.”
Mom insisted that using fewer plates was the right way to go. It was a sensible idea in theory, but did customers really have to stack food into precarious towers just to save on dishes? I wasn’t sure. As long as it wasn’t done out of spite or some “customer is king” entitlement, maybe it was fine. Still, saying that out loud wouldn’t change anything, so I quietly went back to eating.
By the time I’d polished off my first plate, Dad was still carefully selecting his food. I was already ready for round two.
“Wait, you’re already going for seconds, Hyunwoo?”
“Yeah…”
Dad looked surprised as I headed back to the trays. Mom, who’d been sitting with him, also whipped her head around in shock.
“What? You already finished all of that?”
“Yeah…”
“Kid, that’s excessive.”
Mom’s expression said she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Whether it counted as overeating or just speed-eating, the food was going down way too easily. Maybe I really had been starving.
Should I try getting a variety for the second plate? I bent down under the food trays to grab an empty dish and slowly made my way toward the fried food section. But that smoked salmon sushi earlier had been really good…
…A little more wouldn’t hurt.
The desire to eat more of what tasted good stirred inside me. It was a sushi buffet, so eating lots of sushi was normal, right? I changed direction again and headed back to the sushi counter. This time I loaded up five smoked salmon rolls and five eel rolls. Ah, those had been delicious too. And I’d only gotten one piece of the squid sushi earlier. Plus…
“You’re not eating only raw fish, are you…?”
When I came back to my senses, my second plate was also completely covered in sushi. Mom looked genuinely worried now.
“It’s tasty, what am I supposed to do?”
“Even I’m getting worried just watching you,” Dad said, siding with Mom.
Next time I’ll really get something else. But then came the third plate.
“Sushi again?”
“…Yeah.”
“Good grief.”
Mom let out a helpless laugh at the sight of yet another sushi-filled plate. She clearly thought I’d lost it. Dad even joked while holding his fork, “Maybe we should buy some sashimi-grade fish to keep at home.”
“And who’s going to prepare it?” Mom shot back, taking the joke seriously.
After finishing the third plate while trying not to draw too much attention, I finally brought back something that wasn’t sushi for the fourth round—chicken, thin-crust pizza, pasta, that sort of thing.
“Finally, something that isn’t sushi.”
Mom sounded genuinely impressed when I returned with a non-sushi plate. This one disappeared quickly since I hadn’t taken much. Just as I was thinking I was full enough to go for dessert—
“You’re going again?”
“Yeah, last one.”
Mom’s eyes went wide. I paused mid-step.
“No no no, stop eating… Mom’s actually scared now.”
“You really have eaten a lot,” Dad added.
They both looked genuinely alarmed even though I’d said it was the last plate. Had I really eaten that much?
“I’ll only take a little.”
“I’m serious, I’m scared. Just eat what’s left and stop.”
Mom pushed Hyunseo’s leftover snacks toward me instead. Normally the final course at a buffet was ice cream and sweets, but… ugh, there went my last dessert round. Still, it was true I’d eaten way more than usual, so I couldn’t really argue. I settled for the compromise, even if it left me a little unsatisfied.
After a very filling lunch, I took the lead on the way out and pulled out my card at the register.
“I’ll pay.”
“Huh? Oh my.”
“Whoa, Lee Hyunwoo. So you’re making money now?”
Mom and Dad both looked impressed. Their praise put me in a good mood, and I paid without hesitation. Paying for things felt surprisingly nice. Maybe this was the real appeal of spending money.
That night, after having eaten enough at the buffet to cover dinner as well, I found myself making repeated trips to the bathroom. Back and forth, back and forth. Eventually the stomach pain hit.
Yeah, this wasn’t good.
“Mom, my stomach hurts…”
“What?”
Mom was startled by the news that I had a stomachache in the middle of the night. The only place open on a weekend was the emergency room. She immediately called the Professor, and instead of an ambulance, I ended up riding in his car to the hospital.
Clutching my stomach and being fussed over the whole way, we finally arrived. After a short examination, the Professor spoke in his usual calm tone.
“You just have indigestion.”
“Ah.”
The result was far less dramatic than the worry had been. I let out a short, miserable sigh. Mom gave me a thoroughly unimpressed look. I turned my head away to avoid her sharp gaze.
“I knew you were eating like an idiot…”
Her blunt words stabbed straight into my chest. Next time I’ll eat less.