“How– Ten-jie! This is crazy! This is– this is twice the number you said you’d bring!” Six stared at the suitcase full of masks, mouth agape.

The other girls, hearing the fuss, flocked around Six and Ten. Eight gasped, and even Seven raised an eyebrow.

If Ten has to be honest, it’s really thanks to her rarely-used employee privileges and the generous deposits the girls were willing to pay that this very suitcase holds more than twice-fold the merchandise it should have. But Ten only blushed and waved away the comment.

A soft tut behind her. “All these masks, Ten, and you never think of replacing that fox?” Ten turned to find Thirteen’s eyes narrowed on her. “How much is your employee discount again?”

Ten stiffened. “Fifteen percent. I thought I told you.”

“These are all limited editions…” Thirteen mused, fingers tapping on the cursive label printed on each masks’ packaging. “I don’t remember paying enough deposit to even come close to affording that. Was your discount enough?”

No, this was not about discounts. Ten could hear Thirteen’s underlying accusations: you aren’t wearing the masks you sell because they’re used or damaged. They’re cheaper to buy and you’d gain more profit selling them – and we all know you’re only here for the money.

“O-of course. How else would–”

“Was there an additional discount or something? For used masks.” Thirteen interrupted her, and the room fell silent. “Because I can’t think of another reason why you never touch the masks you sell.”