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“We should probably head back soon,” Jimin remarks. The sun is getting low in the sky, and the carnival won’t get any less crowded.
Minjeong hums agreement as she slots a hand through Jimin’s arm.
Suddenly Jimin catches sight of a stall they’re passing. It’s a classic ball toss game. The counter is piled high with prizes. Jimin’s eye catches an adorable puppy figurine with a derpy look that reminds her of Minjeong in the morning as she wakes up.
“Hold that thought,” she stops in her tracks in front of the stall. “I want to play this.”
Minjeong eyes the stall. “You know these games are a scam, right?”
“It’s not a scam if I win,” Jimin counters, digging in her pocket for money and dropping it into the slot.
A hatch opens, revealing five balls. Jimin grins; this will be easy.
She grabs a ball, judges the distance to the hoop bolted on the far wall, and lobs it confidently.
To her surprise, the ball flies right past and bonks against the wall, falling uselessly to the ground.
“Huh, these are lighter than I’m used to,” she mutters to save face. She steals a glance at Minjeong to make sure she didn’t see, but the other girl is fortunately absorbed in the prizes stacked on the counter.
She picks up another ball and tries again. As if on replay, the ball again misses the hoop completely.
Refusing to be daunted, Jimin picks up the third ball and tosses it gently, using next to no strength. This time the ball falls short.
Jimin feels her cheeks start to grow warm. This is not going the way she’s planned. She hopes Minjeong’s not watching.
Despite her attempts, the last two balls don’t go through the hoop.
She clenches her teeth and empties her pockets, coming up with just enough change for another five tries.
The hatch opens again, revealing the next five balls.
“Did you win yet?” The voice comes from behind her, right next to her ear, and Jimin jumps violently, almost losing her grip on the ball.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she snaps, the frustration from the first game seeping into her voice.
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Minjeong teases, ignoring her tone.
Jimin pouts. “This isn’t basketball. These are way too light,” she complains. Without waiting for Minjeong’s response, she turns and throws the ball, which inevitably falls short again.
Barely holding back a curse, she grabs the next ball.
Again, that ball and the next both miss the hoop, making her growl out loud in frustration.
“Why are you so competitive?” Minjeong’s voice comes from behind her again.
“I’m not competitive,” Jimin grits out. “I just want to win.” She stops herself from blurting out why she wants the prize so much.
“That’s called being competitive,” Minjeong deadpans, and Jimin has to refrain from doing something violent.
She turns away and picks up the last ball, turning it over in her hands in an effort to calm down.
“Is that the last one? Can I try?” Minjeong asks over her shoulder.
“It’s mine,” Jimin objects, but hands over the ball after a moment. “It’s really hard,” she informs the younger girl, moving aside to give her space.
Minjeong takes her place at the counter, takes aim, and lets the ball fly without hesitation.
To Jimin’s complete shock, the ball soars through the air in a perfect arc and drops through the middle of the hoop, without even touching the sides.
“I won!” Minjeong throws a fist into the air in celebration. Jimin can only watch, mouth hanging open, as the younger girl swaggers to the prize counter and beelines right for the largest prize, a gray dinosaur plushie with rainbow-colored spikes on its back.
Minjeong picks up the huge stuffed toy and heads back to Jimin, pushing the prize into her hands. “Here.”
“F-for me?” Jimin stutters out.
The stallholder, who’s been watching them with interest, interjects before Minjeong can reply. “You guys look cute together.”
Minjeong turns to him in surprise. “We’re... just friends,” she says.
The guy tilts his head. “Really? You could’ve fooled me. She’s been eyeing this prize all along,” he motions to Jimin, then the puppy figurine. “I see how she looks at you,” he tells Minjeong knowingly. “My gaydar is never wrong.”
Looking past Minjeong to make eye contact with Jimin, he says, “Shoot your shot. I have a feeling you’ll succeed.” He winks at both of them and turns away to attend to another customer.
Minjeong whips around to face Jimin, her gaze unreadable. “He’s messing with us, right?”
Jimin can’t meet her piercing eyes. She looks down at the dinosaur plushie in her hands instead, fingers absentmindedly stroking the soft material.
“Jimin…” Minjeong speaks again, a hint of impatience showing.
“He’s right,” she blurts out impulsively, still staring at the dinosaur.
“Are you confessing to the stupid thing? Look at me,” Minjeong snaps, and Jimin looks up in shock. She’s never heard Minjeong use this tone of voice before.
“Idiot,” Minjeong continues, almost fondly. “If you’re gonna try to be romantic, at least make sure you won’t fail,” she says, referring to Jimin’s nine failed attempts to win the prize.
Embarrassed, Jimin buries her face in the dinosaur, feeling the soft spikes poke against her burning cheeks.
A hand pushes the dinosaur aside, and Jimin catches sight of Minjeong’s soft eyes, before she tiptoes and presses a lopsided kiss on the corner of her mouth.
Jimin can only stand there, mind short-circuiting, as warmth spreads out from the point where Minjeong’s lips touched her skin, filling her entire being with a warm, bubbly feeling.
Minjeong steps back to take in her expression, wearing a satisfied look. She reaches out for Jimin’s hand, who lets her take it, still unable to speak.
At that moment, Aeri appears, pushing through the crowd. “You guys! Where have you been? Yizhuo is—“ she breaks off when she sees their intertwined hands, Jimin’s scarlet cheeks, Minjeong’s satisfied grin, and finally the rainbow dinosaur plushie that Jimin is still clutching.
“Oh hell yeah,” she smirks. “I can’t wait to tell Yizhuo that one of you finally made a move.” She whips around and disappears back into the crowd.
“What do you mean, ‘finally’?!” Minjeong yells at her receding form. When Aeri doesn’t turn around, she sighs and turns to Jimin, swinging their still-connected hands. “Come on, we’d better follow her.”