When winning doesn't matter, but losing to someone you like feels dangerous.
After the Ferris wheel, Fah and Tawan wandered into the festival's game zone, a narrow strip lined with ring tosses, balloon darts, and shooting galleries. The smell of popcorn and sugar floss hung in the air, blending with the low hum of music and chatter.
"Alright, engineer," Tawan said, spotting a ring toss stall. "Let's see if your precision skills are as sharp outside the lab."
Fah narrowed his eyes, picking up a ring. "You're going down. I've been practicing physics equations all week just for this moment."
Tawan smirked, tossing a ring casually and knocking a bottle clean off the stand. "Amateurs talk about equations. Pros just… aim."
Challenge accepted, Fah concentrated, threw his first ring—and it bounced off, barely hitting a bottle. He groaned.
Tawan leaned over, feigning shock. "You call that aiming? You're going to have to work harder than that."
Fah shot back, "Maybe I'm letting you win, so you don't get too full of yourself."
"Full of myself?" Tawan laughed, brushing a stray wet hair from his forehead. "You clearly have no idea how competitive I am."
Their playful banter drew a small crowd, but neither seemed to notice. Round after round, their elbows brushed, their laughter mingled, and every near-miss of fingers during a toss sent tiny jolts of awareness through Fah.
Finally, Tawan lined up for one last throw, whispering, "Winner takes the giant panda."
Fah's jaw tightened. "You're on."
They both threw simultaneously. Tawan's ring landed perfectly on the bottle; Fah's bounced off, hitting the table instead.
Tawan grinned, holding the plush prize high. "Better luck next time, engineer."
Fah pretended to glare, but when Tawan leaned down, their foreheads brushing lightly as he handed over the panda, Fah's defenses melted.
"Careful," Fah muttered, voice low. "You're dangerously close."
"And yet," Tawan replied, smirking, "you're not pulling away."
Fah laughed softly, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Maybe I don't want to."
They continued through the festival, Tawan carrying the panda under one arm, Fah teasing him about it constantly. Between stolen bites of fried snacks and shared laughter over a failed shooting gallery attempt, the night blurred into one long, perfect string of small adventures.
By the time they left the festival, both were exhausted, sticky from sugar and rain, but smiling brighter than either expected.
Fah realized something simple and undeniable: it didn't matter who won the games, or who was more precise, or even who teased the other more. With Tawan, every little competition, every flustered glance, and every laugh was a victory worth keeping.