If asked whether she preferred the land or the sea, Wheein wouldn’t hesitate to pick the former option. Not because she had a strong adoration towards the solid ground, but rather because she loathed the tides and everything it carried. She understood that this was ironic, being a fisherman and all. She had her reasons.

“Last haul!” a woman yelled as she looked over the ship, beckoning towards herself. “Someone help me bring it up.”

On cue, Wheein rushed towards the other side and was careful to not slip on any of the wet puddles. Two men that went by the names of Chandong and Hyunkyu followed right behind her. They dunked their gloved hands under the water to cling onto the mesh, the thin layer not enough to block the frigid sensation. Wheein’s muscles strained as they fought to bring the net safely on deck, the live cargo struggling as they swam down.

It was no use as the fish were forced out of the water, the herring flopping atop of each other as if trying to escape. One smacked its tail across Wheein’s face as they settled the screen on the flooring. Hyunkyu laughed, clapping. “I always love it when that happens,” he said.

Wheein huffed and glared at him, her eyes feeling heavy as she resisted the urge to rub them. Even though she was used to waking up in the break of dawn, the exhaustion ceased to leave her after a day’s work.

The woman that called for help looked up to meet the captain’s eyes. She gave a thumbs-up and he nodded, immediately revving the engine and turning the wheel.

While the other workers laid down the fish appropriately and washed away the salt water, Wheein slipped a herring down the back of Hyunkyu’s suspenders. Hyunkyu screamed as he fumbled to get the squirming fish out of his clothing and Chandong cracked up, clutching his stomach as he raised his hand to give Wheein a high-five.

Everyday was a routine from the long, tiring hours to the jokes passed around as they waited for the day to end. Wheein knew this. Everyone knew this. However while their minds were insync, their opinions on the matter were divided.

Wheein leaned against the side of the main deck, staring up at the sky. Clouds captured the sun in their grasp, a dull gray replacing the bright rays. She frowned. A few strands of hair that peeked out of her wool cap swayed with the breeze.

She hoped the imminent storm wouldn't loom in the middle of their expedition. The rain made the currents barbaric and seek out the unfortunate boats that lingered. There were cases where the sea had succeeded, apprehending the ones that couldn’t make it to shore when the downpour turned grim. Nobody was reckless enough to venture out to the currents at such conditions and even if someone was, they had no reason to be there.

Luckily, the ship made a safe stop at the docks before even a splash of water fell to the ground. Wheein sighed in relief, feeling almost silly for immediately assuming the worst was about to happen.

The fishermen set down the gates, bearing a bridge supported by chains that allowed them to cross over. They carried the freight over their shoulders, careful to not drop the fish and risk damaging its quality. Wheein was paired with Chandong to carry one of the last loads, but the duo struggled for this haul was heavier than the others. Right when Wheein was about to complain about her shoulders giving out, a pair of hands raised the net and eased a considerable amount of weight.

Wheein turned and saw the captain’s ragged, but otherwise welcome, face. A scar jutted down from his left cheek to his bottom lip, but the sight didn’t alarm her. He was as familiar as the waves that isolated the island from the rest of civilization. “Watch your step, you two,” he said. “We’ll all tip over otherwise and reek even more of fish.”

“Oh, thank you Mr.Jinho!” Chandong cheered and Wheein nodded in agreement, relieved.

The captain scoffed as they slowly walked across the plank and their feet safely landed on the harbor. “I told you to stop referring to me as ‘Mister,’” he said. “Jinho is fine. I feel like an old man when you call me anything else.”

“But you are kind of old,” Wheein said. “In fact, haven’t you lived two of my lifetimes so far?”

Jinho halted and the younger duo followed his movements. Chandong couldn’t help but snicker, whipping his head to the side. Jinho didn’t bother to hide his reaction, their cargo shaking with his hearty laughter. “Another comment like that and you’ll be walking the plank,” he joked.

Wheein faced forward with a small smile, rolling her eyes. Despite the occupations being distinctly different, Jinho loved to act as if they were pirates rather than people who sold fish for a living. Maybe it was his way of making light of his scar. “Aye aye, captain,” she responded weakly.

They settled the fish in front of the coolers, leaving it to the workers in charge of preserving the goods. Wheein groaned, rolling back her shoulders. “Finally,” she said.

“Make sure to get your pay before you leave today,” Jinho said. He hurried to the captain’s quarters, where a line was already forming at the entrance.

Chandong hummed. “That’s right, we don’t have work tomorrow.” He grinned, stuffing his gloves into his pockets and rested his hands behind his head. “Time went by quick, don’t you think so Wheein?”

If she was honest, the week went terribly slow for her. However, it was like that for her every week. She only shrugged. It wasn’t exactly lying.

Hyunkyu beckoned them over with a wave, telling them to pick up the pace or they would lose their place in line.

“What are you going to do with your money, Hyunkyu?” Chandong asked.

The man tilted his head, deep in thought. “I’ll probably go drinking tonight,” he said.

“Same here,” Chandong asked. He turned to Wheein. “What about you, Wheein? Wanna go to the saloon with us?”

Wheein shook her head. “I think I’ll pass,” she said. “I’m going to save what I have.”

“What?” Hyunkyu drawled, his arms slumping. “This is the fourth time. I feel like we barely see each other nowadays.”

“What are you talking about?” Wheein retorted. “I always see you guys at work.”

“Oh, you know that’s not what I meant. You barely have fun with us anymore.”

Wheein frowned. “I’m sorry, maybe next time.”

Sighing, Hyunkyu relented. They both knew that was a lie. “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “Make sure to take a break when you can, alright?”

“Why are you saving your money anyway?” Chandong interrupted. “Are you planning to buy a new hat or something?”

Hyunkyu perked up at the change of topic. “Maybe she's planning to buy a present for a special someone,” he suggested with a smirk.

Wheein snorted. “Yeah right,” she said. “I don't want to court anyone in this island.”

“Don't say that out loud or you'll end up alone,” Chandong teased. “What about that city girl?”

Wheein’s eyes widened at that. “Yongsun-unnie? Why would you assume that?”

Chandong shrugged. “She’s the only one you’re close to besides us. Unless—” He turned suddenly, flexing his arms. “You finally realized how much of a catch I am.”

Wheein spared him a moment’s glance before purposely raising her hand to cover her view. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather not.”

A faux gasp elicited from Chandong as he clutched his chest. “You wound me, Wheein! How can you do this to me?”

Wheein chuckled. “Oh, don't act like it's the end of the world. We both know that you’re going to flirt with someone else the next day.”

“Okay, if it’s not us nor that city girl,” Hyunkyu piped up. “Then you must have met someone new without letting anyone know! A secret lover!” He jabbed Wheein’s arm lightly with his finger. “They could be hiding from us right now, I can feel it.”

Wheein furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re reading a dramatic novel again, I can tell.”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Hyunkyu said in a jolly tone.

“You’re also not hearing a yes,” Wheein countered in the same pitch.

Hyunkyu huffed. “Then what’s the point of saving?”

“Maybe she’s thinking about the future, unlike you two.”

The three jolted, turning around to face Jinho. They didn’t realize that they were now in front of the line. The older man quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the open doorway.

“Do you want to go drinking with us, boss?” Hyunkyu asked. Chandong dug his elbow into Hyunkyu’s stomach, causing the latter to wince. “Ow!” he whined, rubbing the ache. “What was that for?”

“Actually, I’m thinking of spending the night at my own home.” Jinho rubbed the stubble on his chin and held out the checks to the men. “Don’t overdo it and get yourselves alcohol poisoning,” he warned. “Don’t stay out too late either, it’s going to rain pretty hard soon and I don’t want any of my employees stumbling in that kind of weather.”

Chandong and Hyunkyu graciously took their pay from him. “You have nothing to worry about Mr.Jinho,” Chandong insisted. “We’re not the type to do that sort of thing anyway.”

“Well, you better prove me wrong then.” Jinho smiled, but then realized that he was being called with formalities again. “And just call me Jinho.”

“Oh, right.” Chandong chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hyunkyu took hold of Chandong’s wrist. “We’ll be going now bo— Jinho. See ya later, Wheein!” They ran off, the wood creaking with their steps.

Jinho chuckled and shook his head before turning to Wheein. “And here’s your week’s pay,” he said, holding out the small envelope.

She took the money from Jinho, trying not too excited. “Thank you very much,” Wheein said. She unsealed the opening and peeked inside.

The man leaned in and cupped his hand around Wheein’s ear. “I added a little extra,” he whispered. “Just this once.”

“Huh, why?” Wheein asked. “Not that I don't appreciate it, but I don't think—”

“Don't think you deserve it?” Jinho guessed, returning to his original position. “That's nonsense! You've been working hard all week. And now you're closer to whatever you're saving for, right?”

Looking down, Wheein counted the bills. Anything helped her get closer to her goal. She grinned, nodding. “Yes this does help me a little,” she said. “Thank you.”

“No problem!” He smacked Wheein’s shoulder and she winced, but tried her best to hide it. Jinho was sometimes too strong for his own good. “Now run along before it starts raining and you catch a cold.”

“Thank you again, Jinho!” She spun around on the soles her feet and took off, waving goodbye. The man let out a chuckle and waved back as her figure became distant.

Wheein descended the wooden steps and ran along the shoreline, the wet sand dipping as it adjusted to her weight. Despite the chilled air, Wheein was slightly panting by the time she reached her cottage at the end of the beach. She rummaged inside her coat for her rusted key and unlocked the door.

“I'm home!” she called out. She stepped inside and shut the door, her eyes meeting complete darkness. She sat down and untied her laces, shimmying off her sand-encrusted boots. Wheein rubbed at the sores that appeared from walking all day for a moment before making her way to the kitchen. “Hello?” She flicked open the lightswitch, her eyes squinting at the brightness. “You didn’t wander off, did you?”

A mewling sound reached her ears and a fond smile grew on Wheein’s face when she peeked down to find white and orange fur. “There you are, Ggomo!” she gushed, kneeling down in front of the cat. “Did you miss me?”

The pet his own paw and dodged Wheein’s hand when she reached down to pet him. She pouted. “I see how it is,” she said. “You want a little bribe before you acknowledge me.”

She sauntered over to the counter and stood on her tiptoes to open the cabinet, grabbing a can of cat food and a can opener. She cut through the metal with ease and patted the container’s bottom, spilling the chow into a pink bowl.

Ggomo scurried towards the scent, nipping at Wheein’s pants. She laughed and set the bowl in front of him, scratching behind his ear delicately. “You must’ve been hungry, huh?” She stood up from her position, grunting as she placed her hand on her knee.

Now there was only one thing left to do, Wheein thought to herself. She exited the kitchen and made her way across the hall. She glanced at one particular door, but passed by without a second thought for it was unused for years. She stopped in front of her own bedroom, the entrance slightly ajar from when she left it.

The room was plain, a simple untidied bed and nightstand decorating the area. Wheein took a seat on the edge of her bed and leaned down to open the drawer of her bedside table, revealing a jar filled halfway with money.

Wheein set down her week’s pay atop of her blanket while the container rested in the space between her crossed legs. She organized the funds she would need to feed her and Ggomo and the extra that would be stored away. She sighed when she saw that the pile she needed to survive the week beat the excess pile by a tremendous amount. Oh well, better than nothing.

Saving became a routine as well ever since she made the decision to do so a few months ago. But this pattern would soon change her life when she finally reached her goal. Soon, she would finally be able to stop wondering if everything would seem stagnant to her. She was close to being free.

She froze when a crack of thunder resounded outside, turning around to peer outside her window. The sky was angry, the clouds almost black as the tides churned with fervor. She reminded herself that there was nothing to worry about. Nobody was brave enough to take on the ocean at its worst and had no reason to try.