Festivals. There are many different sorts of them scattered across the world, especially on Earth. Some are grand, stretching across entire cities, while others are small, intimate gatherings in a local neighborhood shrine or town square. America, for instance, has its festivals that lean more toward being massive parties than truly traditional celebrations. The festival featured flashy lights, loud music, endless food trucks, and people drinking and dancing in the streets until dawn; it was more about energy than meaning.
Japan, on the other hand, with its countless shrines and long stretches of traditions, held festivals that carried centuries of history in each carefully practiced ritual. Lanterns swaying in the night air, yukata rustling as people wandered through crowds, the smell of grilled food mingling with incense—it was less of a party and more of an experience woven into culture.
China could be compared to Japan in that sense. Both were deeply traditional countries, though the ways they celebrated were different. Both carried their past proudly, wearing it like armor. Though, well... those two countries weren't exactly on the best of terms historically. Not my problem. I definitely did not want to think about that while I was standing in the middle of a snow-dusted festival in a demon realm.
Sadly—or maybe fortunately—I had only ever seen Japanese festivals in person. The ones I remembered most vividly were the nights I went alone. I found myself roaming from stall to stall, sporadically stopping to observe fireworks bursting in the sky or take in the melodies emanating from a stage. There was comfort in the noise, in blending into the crowd, even when my hands were empty and my heart ached. The one time I hadn't been alone was when my teacher had taken me. Just once. Even that memory was hazy now, but it still existed as something warm buried in the coldness of my past.
And now? I guess I could add Kayda to that tiny list.
"Kitsu, I can't hit anything!" Kayda whined beside me, her tone dripping with childlike frustration. She held a small air gun awkwardly in both hands, her grip clumsy, shoulders hunched forward as she squinted down the firing range. Thirty-two small boxes were stacked on shelves of different heights, arranged in rows like a miniature fortress daring her to knock it down.
Her wings twitched with annoyance, her tail flicking behind her as she looked back at me for reassurance.
"Hmm, yeah, I can see that. You grazed only one out of your twelve shots, rawr," I said flatly, my voice monotone, carefully void of sympathy.
Kayda's jaw dropped. "Tch, can't you care a bit more?" She pouted, puffing her cheeks out like some sort of angry squirrel, her eyes narrowing at my lack of enthusiasm.
"I do care," I said, my tone still flat. "But it's not like it'll fall even if you hit it, rawr." My voice lowered, almost a whisper.
Kayda let out an irritated sigh. "I know that. I can feel the mana holding the blocks in place." Her tail lashed once, clearly irritated at the unfairness of it all.
"Well, it's not impossible to win," I explained, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You just need to hit the right spots. But with your aim? Impossible, rawr."
Her glare sharpened, and she jabbed a finger into my shoulder. "Hey, don't be mean! It's these guns. They're so shitty. So how should it be done, then?" she pressed, her voice tilting into a whine again.
"Ha-ha," I mocked without humor, tilting my head toward the stacked boxes. "It's a magnetic mana trick or whatever he's using. There aren't many of the nodes, though, so they're spaced out. If you nail the sides first and then aim at the upper corners, you can make the boxes collapse. It's about angles, not brute force."
Kayda's ears perked. "Oh excellent, so you can do it. Hey, owner! Twenty shots for Miss Foxy here." She bumped my shoulder with hers, smirking as she handed the stall owner payment.
The man's lips curved into a grin that was just a little too devilish. "Oh, I see you are going for the big prize."
Kayda nodded eagerly, her smile bright. "Of course. She better win it for me. Remember this—I want that teddy, okay?" She pointed dramatically at a massive human-sized bear behind the stall owner, its button eyes reflecting lamplight.
"Hey! Why do I have to win something for you? I want one of these." I jabbed a finger toward the back shelf, where a standing dragon teddy loomed like a guardian beast.
"..."
"..."
"Because I'm your date," Kayda said plainly, with a face so serious it made my stomach twist.
"But I'm also your date, rawr." I replied sharply, my tone filled with irritation.
"Kitsu," Kayda said again, softer this time, but with an edge of dissatisfaction that made me feel like I had already lost.
The stall owner raised his hands quickly, stepping in before things could escalate further. "Woah, woah, no need to start a fight now, ladies. Since you're today's first same-sex couple, why don't we make the situation interesting with a deal?"
The way he said it made my eyes narrow immediately.
Kayda and I turned toward him in unison. "I'm listening," we both said.
"Okay. If you can hit all twenty shots and knock the boxes over, I'll give you both teddies," he said, flashing another devilish grin.
I crossed my arms. "Okay, but I get two test shots. They won't count if I knock anything over. Obviously."
"Hmm. Alright, deal." The stall owner nodded, though the flicker in his eyes told me he thought he had the upper hand.
'He thought smugly that the test shots wouldn't matter, but his smile revealed his true feelings.' 'She won't knock them over anyway.'
"Great. Then let's get started, rawr." I reached for one of the guns on the table, lifting it to inspect closely. The barrel was crudely made, the wooden stock rough beneath my fingers. Looking inside, I noticed something off.
'I see. So that's why Kayda's shots veered left every single time.' My lips curled faintly. It wouldn't be enough to stop me.
"So I just load this here and shoot, right, rawr?" I asked, sliding one of the corks into the barrel.
"Yes, ma'am," the man said with mock cheer. "The guns will create the air pressure on their own."
"Uh-huh." I hummed, pretending to be unimpressed. Aiming at one of the bears in the back row, I squeezed the trigger.
Poof.
The cork sailed slowly, veering low and left before smacking harmlessly near the bear's shoulder.
'Left low, huh? Damn, no wonder Kayda struggled. It's slow, too, rawr.'
I hummed, tapping the side of the gun until I noticed a small circular dial. Curious, I twisted it. Air hissed faintly. I twisted more, then tried again.
Bang!
The cork flew out with much more force this time, though it still missed. Better speed, though. Much better.
"You ready?" the owner asked, a hint of nerves in his voice.
"Yes. Now bring it on, rawr."
I steadied the gun, focusing on the stacked boxes.
Bang!
One toppled.
"Oh, she got one!" someone from the growing crowd shouted.
"Hehe, one down, nineteen to go," Kayda giggled beside me.
Bang!
Another.
Bang!
Another.
Bang!
Another fell. "And another one bites the dust, ptataaa," I muttered, humming an old tune under my breath as I reloaded.
Bang!
"And another one!" the crowd shouted together, startling me.
I winced. "Ugh, please, no," I muttered, refusing to look back.
Reload. Aim. Fire.
Bang!
"And another one!" The chorus rang again, this time louder.
I risked a glance and spotted Kayda egging them on, her grin wicked.
"Kayda, can you not make them do that, rawr?" I snapped, though I already knew her answer.
"But that song you hummed was funny," she said smugly.
"It's embarrassing, Kayda, rawr," I hissed, letting my illusion tint my cheeks faintly red.
"Heh. But it's cute when you blush."
"Tch. How is it adorable when I turn red like a boiled shrimp, rawr?" I said, snapping my head away.
"Don't you think I'm cute when I blush?" she teased, pressing closer.
"...Now that I think about it, Katie and Ann—since their skin is red, how do they blush?" I asked suddenly, shifting the topic as fast as I could.
Kayda blinked. "Wait, that's true. Huh. Never thought about it."
"Exactly." I used her distraction to line up my next shot.
Bang!
Another box toppled.
"And another one!" the crowd bellowed.
"Fuck! That didn't help at all," I growled.
"Haha, you failed," Kayda mocked.
"Tch. Whatever."
One after another, I fired, each cork slamming into the weak spots until the shelves were bare.
"They're all done, rawr," I muttered finally, exhaling.
"Woah!!! She did it!!"
"All twenty targets down!"
The crowd roared.
"Tch, they're so loud, rawr." I covered my ears, frustrated. Even my enchanted earbuds couldn't block them out, so I froze my ears over instead, muffling the din.
The stall owner's face had drained of color. "How... how can this be? I went through so much trouble to—"
"Oi. I won our bet. "Please give us our teddies," I said, with my hand outstretched.
"You... you cheated!" he barked.
"What nonsense are you blabbing now? Tch. I won. Give me my dragon teddy." My eyes narrowed dangerously.
"There's no way you hit twenty in a row and knocked them over so easily!" He ranted, voice shaking.
"Look again, dumbass. I just did, rawr," I shot back, pointing at the scattered boxes.
"I—I had magnets under each one to make it impossible!" he blurted, eyes wide.
The crowd gasped.
"Oh, is that so?" I said smoothly. "So you accuse me of cheating, but you've been cheating from the start?"
His face paled further. "W-what are you talking about?"
"Sigh. I don't care. Please provide us with our rewards, and we will be on our way," I said calmly.
Defeated, he shoved the two massive teddies toward us.
"Thanks, rawr~." I tossed one over Kayda's head, keeping the dragon clutched tightly in my arms. "There's yours. Enjoy, rawr."
"Hehe, thank you, Kitsu," Kayda said, hugging her bear tightly with a smile that could melt glaciers.
Then, from the crowd: "Wait. Didn't he admit it was impossible from the start?"
"Yeah! We wasted our money on his scam!" another voice shouted.
The crowd began to stir angrily, voices rising.
"Ah, let's get out of here before everything goes to shit, rawr," I whispered, shoving Kayda ahead of me as the crowd turned on the cheating stall owner.