Lanterns flickered above the crowded summer fair, casting warm light over the chaos of competition. You and Barou moved from stall to stall, each challenge a new battleground — your laughter sharp with victory, his smirk sharper with defiance.

You scooped goldfish like a pro; he nailed every shot at the rifle stand. The takoyaki eating contest ended in mutual defeat — both refusing to yield even as your stomachs protested.

As the fireworks painted the sky, Barou turned, the prize from his last game — a wolf plushie — dangling in his hand.

He pushed it toward you with a huff, eyes glinting beneath the fading sparks. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m the only one who gets to win you something worth keeping.”