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“Okay bunny, where to next?”
Dry leaves, strewn tickets, and spilled soda coat the dirt path, compact from being trodden by thousands of others. The soles of their shoes peel off the tacky ground in a steady crunch-rip rhythm as they walk past rows of tents and stalls. Save for Seungmin, whose squeaky shoes sit pristinely pink on his socked feet, the boy bundled in a onesie, overalls, and his favourite tan puppy hoodie in Minho’s strong arms while Chan lugs a backpack of essentials beside them.
The carnival is in town. Chan and Minho fought for the opportunity to take their baby out amidst their busy lives, managing to get a collective day off in which they could spoil their Little rotten. He deserved it after too many days of “next time, I promise,” in the car after difficult lessons or tiring schedules, leaving him fuzzy and longing for some time alone with his caregivers that wasn’t restricted to their dorms. They had turned down numerous park visits and ice cream date requests to please their management, surely they had every right to make the most of the once-in-a-year opportunity without cameras, staff, or crowds of fans preventing them from being truly authentic in their displays of affection.
The frown that paints Seungmin’s face contrasts the yellow smiley-face drying on his cheek from the face painting stand he had puppy-eye-pleaded his way into, the third event following the beanbag toss and ducky pond that MinChan had checked out. They had gained a few pieces of candy and a mini toy car from them, but Seungmin can’t focus on any of that when Minho has just called him a bunny. He’s a puppy!
He thinks of Cinnamoroll and Pompompurin, doggies like him who were often mistaken for bunnies. (Although he’s more of a Pochacco aficionado, he can appreciate all the Sanrio characters.)
“Minnie?”
He lacks so many words to verbalize his thoughts, losing them in the fuzziness of his mind akin to the one he is encased in. Settling on a pout, he reaches for the ears on his hood.
“Not bunny, Bubba. I pubby. Long ears pubby,” he clarifies, holding them out so Bubba can see that they are indeed dog ears.
“Lee Know’s so silly, he thinks everything is a bunny because he is one.”
Minho rolls his eyes at Chan’s teasing grin. “Says Mr. Wolf himself. You canines are conspiring against me.”
Chan smirks. “Well the pack has to stick together. It’s natural for our puppy to be drawn to a big, strong leader like me who can protect him. Isn’t that right Minnie?”
Seungmin is no longer listening, his attention directed at the colourful stalls ahead.
Minho snorts. “Leader of the pack can’t get his only pup to pay attention.”
Chan rolls his eyes. “As if you’re any better.”
Minho sticks his tongue out.
“Oooh! Bubba, Woofy, lookit!”
Seungmin points at a nearby stall, his gaze fixated on the enormous plush toys dangling from the top. As they approach it, Seungmin leans forward to take a closer look and gasps in awe.
“Pwetty pwushies!”
He wiggles in Minho’s grasp, unable to contain his joy.
“Someone’s excited.” Chan pats his head.
Upon reaching the booth, the trio can see what the game is, plain as day. Ring toss.
Seungmin’s feet squirm as he marvels at the stuffed animals decorating the stall’s perimeter. Smaller toys sit on shelves lined with fairy lights, perfectly pocket-sized.
“Step right up! Land the rings on the stakes, you take the cake! Win prizes for the whole family!” The operator gathers a handful of bright plastic rings that draw Seungmin’s eyes to them like magnets. “You, sirs! How about you get a little something for your little one?”
They are briefed on the rules of the game and shown a demonstration of the rings being tossed onto an array of wooden pegs. They confirm it isn’t rigged, seeing how the pegs are substantially narrower than the inside of the rings. Each round gives them five rings, of which three need to land on any of the pegs to win them a small toy. Five in a row brings home the grand prize plushies.
“Seems easy enough.” Chan sets down their bag.
“You think we can win him something?” Minho adjusts his hold, keeping Seungmin stable on his hip.
“Oh absolutely. I bet I could win him one of the giant ones.” Chan already has his wallet out, forking over a wad of cash that can only be considered a reasonable price at a funfair. Anything for their baby. “Two rounds, please.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean we can win him one?”
Chuckling, Chan turns to him. “You can probably get him a small plush or two.”
The scoff that leaves Minho’s lips is mock offense, playful banter that the both of them enjoy. Bickering like a married couple, fathers of one. “Excuse you, I rock at precision-based activities. Are you forgetting who broke the bullseye camera in an archery competition?”
“And yet you suck at games.”
Fascinated by the fluffy, colourful items, Seungmin misses the competitive look that Chan and Minho share.
“Let’s see who can get him the most toys.” Minho flashes his trademark catlike grin. “Loser pays the winner’s share.”
“You’re on.” Chan assesses the wooden arrangement before glancing at the neat stack of rings provided to him.
He’s got this.
Chan does not, in fact, got this. He pays his way through a third round, throwing one, two, ten, twelve rings. They clatter and bounce away from the pegs one after another.
Meanwhile Seungmin is having the time of his life, clapping each time the missed throws rattle crookedly between the sticks of wood. The boring beige is adorned with colour now, all thanks to Woofy.
“Gee hyung, you’re such a prodigy. You should go for the world record. Most failed attempts at ring toss.”
Minho’s teasing goes unpunished only because the risk of him dropping Seungmin is too high for Chan to jab an elbow into his ribs.
“Quiet, you.” He rubs his face with a hand. He only has two measly plastic circles on pegs to show for his efforts by the time he’s down to his last ring. From two different rounds. He lets out a defeated groan without even watching his fifteenth attempt land. He doesn’t need to, he’s suffered enough.
“Ding ding ding! You win nothing!” Minho cackles. “I think we’ve found something you’re even worse at than bowling.”
“I’d like to see you do better.”
Chan’s scowl is short-lived, the sight of Seungmin making grabby hands at him replacing his frustration with fondness.
“Fun!” The regressor exclaims.
“That makes one of us.” He fixes Seungmin’s hood, gesturing for Minho to go up with a jerk of his head. “Your turn.”
Minho whispers to Seungmin to keep an eye out for the most extra-special stuffie there is before passing him to Chan. To make things even, he pays for three rounds upfront. Three chances to get three out of five and surprise their puppy.
A squint here, a swing there, he gauges the weight of the little plastic hoops and makes an estimate of how much power he needs for them to land in the right spots. His first two throws fly in a neat arc, falling centered around the same peg.
“Yes!”
“Beginner’s luck,” Chan mutters.
His subsequent tries, however, fail to do the same. His first round ends with his fist hitting the counter top. “I almost had that last one!”
“You’re doing better than I did. You’ll get it.” The leader’s consolation is met with a smile.
In the midst of Minho’s second round of throws, Seungmin musters the courage to do something about his interest in their colourful surroundings. Fingers hidden in sweater paws tap Chan’s cheek. Once he has his attention, the little points at a stray red ring in the corner. If Bubba and Woofy can get their own sets, he should be allowed to have this one.
“You want it?” Chan asks, motioning to the staff.
Seungmin nods, pressing his face to Chan’s side as the stall operator approaches them.
“What can I do for you?”
Chan bounces Seungmin slightly to ease him. “Go on.”
“Um, ‘scuse me, I hold dat please?” He again lifts a finger towards the piece of plastic, raising his head when it’s placed in his palm. “Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome. What a polite puppy.”
He whips his head around to face Chan, ready to say “See? I puppy!” and question Bubba’s eyesight. He doesn’t get that far, breaking into a wide smile at Woofy’s proud expression instead.
“Good job asking!”
He waves the ring around, liking how the thick, sturdy material feels in his grip. Swinging it quickly makes a whooshing sound, the discovery entertaining him through Minho’s dwindling pile of plastic.
“I can’t get more than two in per round,” he complains, one more ring remaining. He has two rings secured, needing to make this last try count. So much pressure hangs on his final throw, causing it to plummet prematurely. It completely misses the wooden arrangement.
“What?” He splutters. There goes his last chance to get Seungmin a prize and shove a stuffed toy in Chan’s face.
“Should we have another go at it?” Chan waves an aimless hand at the general area.
“And blow the rest of our budget here? We have a plan, hyung. None of this will be worth it if we don’t have anything left over for you-know-what. We’ve already thrown enough money down the drain.” Minho sighs.
“Shredded in the garbage disposal.” Chan shakes his head. “I guess we should go then. Minnie, put that back. We’re leaving.”
Wide, perplexed eyes stare back at him. “We can’t go!”
“We have tons of games and rides to visit, we can’t spend all day here trying to win something,” Minho tells him, assuming his refusal to leave stems from wanting a toy. “We could probably buy you a new stuffed animal with the money we’ve spent here anyways. At least the return on investment would be worthwhile then.”
Seungmin tilts his head, struggling to understand Bubba’s long sentences. What he does understand is Woofy tugging at his red ring. He curls his fingers tighter and whines.
“No! I play too!”
“Oh honey, it’s a hard game,” Minho warns. He glances at Chan and finds him mirroring his own reluctance. They want to avoid the possible tantrum that could ensue if Seungmin were to lose and walk away empty-handed. A sour mood could ruin their enjoyment of the day’s festivities.
“Woofy an’ Bubba had lotsa fun. Why no me?” Seungmin pouts, clutching his small red piece of plastic to his chest. He had watched them all this time, he deserves a chance to play. “S’not fair. Woofy got turn, Bubba got turn, now my turn. Please? Pwetty please?”
“You just want to play?” Chan asks.
Seungmin nods. He simply wants to fling the ring in his hand and watch it soar.
“Let the kid play a round. The carnival’s fun for the whole family.” The person running the stall persuades them to overspend, of course, intending to milk them of as much money as possible to make a profit.
“Fun fo’ da famiwy,” Seungmin parrots softly.
Chan is a weak, weak man.
“Lee Know?”
The other caregiver shrugs. “It’s only fair.”
“Fine. You’re right Minnie, you deserve a turn. Go ahead and play,” Chan relents.
The squeal Seungmin lets out reminds them that this is what they set out to achieve today. To spend time making precious memories.
“Woofy, down down!”
Seungmin squirms all the way down until Chan plants his feet on the ground. Taking eager steps, he toddles forth, pressing himself right up to the counter as Minho pays for one more play.
“You toss the ring onto the sticks,” Chan explains. The rest of the rules have too many numbers and things to remember, so Seungmin focuses on finding the sticks, poking his free thumb between his lips to concentrate.
“S’ihs,” he mumbles, wiggling when he lays eyes on the target.
“Yeah, sticks.” Chan chuckles. His baby is so excited about everything, finding joy in the mundane. Maybe his goal all along hadn’t been to win, Chan realizes, as Seungmin stamps his feet with tiny squeaks while waving his ring around.
“We misjudged him.” Chan whispers in Minho’s ear, stifling a laugh. “I don’t think he’s trying to win, he just wants to throw something.”
Presented with a neat stack of four additional rings, Seungmin’s mouth falls open in a small ‘o’. He gets to throw more things with no repercussions? It’s like Christmas came early.
Minho sees the glint of mischief in his eyes, the same one he gets moments before demolishing a large block tower in the living room, or rolling water bottles off the edge of the dining table. “Our little chaos demon. Go wreak havoc!”
The words are lost on Seungmin, regressed far too young to remember what they mean. All he knows is Bubba and Woofy are smiling at him, cheering him on. He’s pretty sure they’re telling him to have fun.
He digs his heels for stability and practices his pitch, swinging his arm to and fro.
“Rah!”
His red ring sails in the air.
Clack!
It lands on a peg. First try.
“Did he just do that?” Chan rubs his eyes, questioning his own eyesight.
Seungmin jumps with glee and flings a second one. He likes how this one flips over in midair, his squeaky stomps accompanying the clatter of plastic against wood.
“Twice.” Equally incredulous, Minho peers over at the assemblage of pieces. “Can you do better than me? Make one more land?”
All of Bubba’s rings landed, Seungmin thinks, confused. Some on the ground and some between the pegs. What difference does it make?
“Do it again,” Chan encourages him.
“I do.”
He does.
A bright, sunny circle falls smack center on the setup, spinning round and round as it descends. To him, it’s not as impressive as the last one. His caregivers seem to think otherwise, judging from their loud gasps.
“You’re a natural, kid!”
He beams a gummy smile at the praise, grabbing his remaining rings and hitting them together to clap. The funny smacking sounds paired with his squeaky stomps make for an addictive beat. Caught up in his own world, Minho has to lightly flick his fake furry ears to regain his attention.
“Game over Minnie. You won!” He pulls Seungmin into a hug.
Chan ruffles his hair, knocking his hood off. “That was amazing!”
Seungmin giggles. “Woofy, Bubba, game no done. Siwy. Has more.”
“Uh?” Chan blinks at the rings on pegs indicating his achievement, then two coloured plastic hoops obscure his vision as Seungmin pushes them in his face. “Ah. We are silly.”
“Done when all gone!”
“You’re absolutely right.” Minho releases him and gives him a gentle nudge forward. “Finish up, then.”
Seungmin tosses his last rings in succession. “Yah!”
Minho and Chan clasp each other’s hands, watching as they fly across. The first one lands on an occupied peg. The other seems to have too much power, soaring a bit too far.
“It won’t-”
The clatter of the final ring snagging on the farthest corner peg cuts Minho off.
“Yay!”
Unaware of the feat he has accomplished but ecstatic at having finished the fun throwing game, Seungmin hops, small squeaks and pit-pats of his shoes prompting him to do a victory dance. He twirls, catching a glimpse of his most favourite hyungs in the whole wide world.
MinChan have their jaws on the floor, processing the win in stunned silence. Their brains short-circuit on the verge of hysterics, unsure of whether to laugh or cry.
How did Seungmin manage to get five in a row?
“I done!” He brightly informs them, shaking his fists and swaying side-to-side. He does his dancey dance on his way to them, each squeaky step sparking joy in him. He loves those shoes. He loves the carnival. He loves Woofy and Bubba more than he can express it with his body.
“Excuse me, little mister!”
He pauses, swivelling when the operator beckons him over. “Hey there. You see all the big stuffed animals?”
They’re hard to miss. “Ya! Dey so big. Saw f’om all way der.”
He points to where they had been walking earlier.
“Cute dec’lashuns,” he adds.
Minho slips his hand out of Chan’s to swat his shoulder repeatedly.
“Ow! What? I’m right here!” The leader bats him away.
“He doesn’t know, hyung!” Minho hisses. “He thinks they’re for show!”
“He…oh! Aww. Goodness.”
Seungmin was in for a surprise.
“They aren’t just for decoration, little one. See how you made your rings fall with the sticks in the middle?”
“Mhm! Looks nice.” He beams at his handiwork.
“They do. It’s very hard for people to do that, even grown-ups. When you get all five on like that, you win the grand prize. That means you can have any of the big plushies!”
He stares at the seemingly unreachable toys, dumbfounded. “I can?”
“Anything from up there is all yours.”
The entire world’s oxygen supply seems to get sucked into Seungmin’s lungs with how deeply he gasps, flapping his arms about. Torn between searching for the right prize and running to Woofy and Bubba, he twists his body in alternate directions. A chain of tiny stomps squeak out beneath his feet.
“Wow! Wow wow wow! Thank you!”
The decision is no longer up to him when Woofy and Bubba engulf him in the biggest, tightest hug of the day. Woofy pretends to toss him in the air, causing him to erupt in a fit of giggles.
“Baby! You did so well!” A light, ticklish Bubba kiss graces his forehead. His hood is pulled over it to keep it safely tucked in place, the way Bubba always does when he’s put in a sleepytime swaddle. “Let’s pick out your new friend, shall we?”
Woofy lifts him high enough to inspect the stuffed animals arranged at the top of the stall.
“Which one?” Seungmin’s fingers graze the fur of those within reach.
“Whichever you want, champ.”
Sifting through the unicorns, bears, and other enticing merchandise, he discerns a texture that must hit a thousand on the fluff-o-meter, soft beyond compare.
“Woah,” he mouths, uncaring of what animal it is. “Dis please.”
The toy is lowered at the same time as he is. Now that he has a better view of the plushie, he can tell he’s made the perfect choice.
“BUN!”
Screeching, he scrunches his face and hops and flaps his arms and oh, maybe this is why Bubba called him a bunny. The way he bounces off the walls when thrilled. Happy feet, Woofy calls it. Puppy zoomies—running from one room to the next to show off his latest crayon masterpiece or the shiny new toy he’s been gifted.
Soothing brown fur complements his hoodie, with long, floppy ears to match. The baby pink embroidered nose begs him to boop it, which he does with his own nose the moment the toy is placed in his arms, so large he needs both to hug it. He knows it’ll be his new cuddle buddy, or rather cuddle bunny, a friend to help him sleep when he needs the comforting weight atop his back.
“Thank you,” he whispers to the plush bunny, too awestruck to cast his glued gaze anywhere else.
As he’s guided to the walking path by his caregivers, the ones who take such good care of him, who spent so long at the fun game only to have received nothing in return, his eyes overflow with sadness.
His hand yanked back by the sudden stoppage, Chan too halts. Swivelling, he faces a sniffling Seungmin.
“What’s wrong baby?” His tender hands cup Seungmin’s face to thumb away his tears. “Do you not like your prize?”
The regressor shakes his head. “Got one, bu’ Bubba ‘n Woofy make two.”
“We can always try to win more in other games,” Minho says, dabbing at his face with tissues before the wetness irritates his delicate skin.
“Bu’ Bubba ‘n Woofy try so so hard!”
Knowing now that the game had a point, Seungmin wishes that his caregivers could have been rewarded too. He holds out his stuffie for them.
Chan coos. “We tried hard because we wanted to get you a prize. We aren’t disappointed that we lost, we had a lot of fun.”
“Honey, you’re the sweetest for wanting to share your new friend with us, but you won it all on your own.” Minho coaxes the plushie into his grasp again. “We want you to have it. It’s yours.”
Their sincere smiles reassure Seungmin, his grip tightening in the heavenly fluff.
“Okie.”
He resolves to take the best care of it, the way they do for him.
Resuming their carnival date, Chan and Minho whisk him away to a very special ride, one they know he adores, timing it so that the line is short when they arrive. It’s what they set aside a portion of their budget for, to ensure it would be crossed off the to-do list. Seungmin barely notices where they are, preoccupied with petting the plushie he has.
“Do you know what we’re about to go on, love?” Chan taps Seungmin’s hand, melting like chocolate in the sun when he lifts his head and screeches gleefully.
“Bumper cars! We go? We go we go?”
“Yes puppy, we’re going.” Minho chuckles at his enthusiasm.
Seungmin and Chan settle in one car, Minho and Seungmin’s newly acquired plushie in the other. Because it has to be doggies against bunnies, and Minnie is far too small to be allowed to drive without supervision even if he is The Best Driver.
Shades of pink and purple paint the sky, the sun dipping below the horizon by the time they prepare to head back home. Seungmin gets buckled into a car seat, a whine escaping him as his mouth is wet-wiped of cotton candy stickiness, his bunny tucked in the crook of his arm and his pink pacifier pushed between his lips.
Squinting at his caregivers, he yawns, the reflection in his eyes seemingly holding a galaxy. His trust, his vulnerability, as complex and vast as the universe itself.
Chan and Minho gaze at him fondly, honoured that they are the ones chosen to navigate that space, astronauts exploring the expanse of Seungmin’s headspace.
Not all days have been kind to their Little, but they vow to fill his life with as many kind days as possible. Like today.
“So, he totally won that bunny because of his baseball skills, right?” Minho clicks his seatbelt in place.
Chan’s hands rest on the steering wheel. “You know, you might be onto something. Sure, let’s go with that.”
“We should take him to a baseball game sometime,” Minho muses.
“You don’t like ball sports.”
“Seungmin does.”
Backing out of the parking lot, Chan drops his raised eyebrow and glances at their sleeping baby through the rearview mirror.
It really doesn’t matter what they choose to do. They’d do anything for those they love.
“Yeah, he does.”
They love Seungmin.