"I want the puffin," Emil announced, pointing towards a large, stuffed toy. It stood on the third shelf, marked by a sign declaring "Third Level Prize". Cheaper, unexciting prizes lay below it; they consisted of little beanie frogs and bears and stuffed flowers. Beyond the prizes, a series of plates were set up in rows, and prices dictated how many balls one would receive in order to break them. Emil leaned on the counter of the game and eyed the plates. His aim wasn't the best, but he was getting that puffin if it killed him.
His date, Li, joined him in staring at the plates. "Have any money?"
"Yeah, Lukas gave me a lot, plus I still have my birthday money."
Li continued to analyze the game. "Have good aim?"
"Not really. You?"
"No, not really." At that moment, a young girl in uniform approached them.
"How much to get the puffin?" he asked.
"It's three plates for a first-level prize, five for a second-level, and seven for a third-level," she replied, her voice sweet. "Care to play?"
Immediately, Emil handed her some money and was granted five balls in return.
"Ugh," Emil grunted, missing his fifteenth throw. None of his previous throws had even come remotely close to hitting a plate. Li watched him, amused. He looked cute when he was frustrated, but he would never admit that. Emil would kill them if he did, especially in his current mood. Li leaned easily on the counter as Emil swore loudly.
"Ready to give up?" he asked, and was met with a glare. Wordlessly, he took more money out of his pocket and handed it to the lady in charge of the game. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
"Shut up! I need to concentrate!" The ball landed in the space between two of the plates. "See what you did?"
Li shrugged. "You can't throw."
"I can throw; it's just that this game is a rip-off! It's designed to make me miss!" Frustrated, Emil shoved one white ball into Li's hand. "If I'm so bad, why don't you try it?" For a moment, Li held the ball firmly, staring ahead at the plates in front of him. Eyes never leaving his target, he released the ball with all of his strength. A plate wobbled a little but remained in one piece.
Emil smirked. "You can't throw either. Stop making fun of me."
"I came close."
"That means nothing." He picked up another ball, hurled it at the plate, and was met with disappointment. Wordlessly, Li joined him, and seconds later a loud whack filled the air.
"Second try," Li bragged, admiring the broken pieces of the plate. Emil groaned.
"That's because you're weird!" he protested. "Nobody normal could do that on the second try."
"You want your puffin, don't you?" His eyes trailed back to the stuffed bird that mocked him. He was investing his money into such a stupid, pointless game because of it. And Li was the only way he was going to get it.
"Win me the puffin and we can move on."
"That was luck, that time you actually broke something. You can't throw for shit."
"You're breaking my concentration!"
"Oh, so when I'm breaking your concentration it's acceptable, but when you break mine I can't throw?"
"How much money do you have left, Emil? We're not going to be able to buy dinner at this rate!" Fifteen minutes later, and only one plate has been broken. Emil's wallet, however, was considerably lighter. The puffin still taunted him and teased him, and Li's lack of success was disappointing.
"I don't care if I have to eat nothing for the next month; that puffin is mine!"
"Why do you want a stuffed puffin so badly?" Emil's cheeks turned violently red. He stared at the ground, avoiding Li's curious gaze.
" . . . It's cute," he stammered, horribly embarrassed. Li didn't usually ask such questions. Normally he would just go with whatever he said, because the two were similar enough to understand each other, and both liked to respect the others' privacy. His awful aim must have prompted the question. "Okay, when I was about six years old, I had this stuffed puffin that I was obsessed with. I took it everywhere: school, the park, the grocery store—I couldn't fall asleep without it. One day, my family and I went on a boat ride, and Lukas knocked Mr. Puffin out of my hands. It fell into the ocean and I cried for a week. I refused a replacement because I thought I would hurt its feelings," Emil explained, missing yet another plate. "It's my childhood, I guess. I only have two years left of it, so . . . yeah." Li refrained from throwing for a minute, focusing only on the rows of large stuffed birds. For a moment, Emil feared his story was too awkward, but a quiet voice interrupted that thought before it could go anywhere.
"You are getting that puffin even if it kills me," he announced, concentration fully intact. Breathing deeply, he hurled the ball at a plate, which shattered upon impact. Without stopping to cheer, he threw three more, one of which smashed another. The lady running the booth offered to give him a first-level prize, but Li refused, locked in his intense determination. One after another, with Emil casually offering more money, balls destroyed the Styrofoam plates. Emil's eyes widened; where had this sudden success come from? Li didn't seem too concerned by it. Calmly, he pointed towards the puffin as the lady handed it to him.
"How did you—"
"Concentration. It's all in the state of mind," Li spoke smoothly. Emil reached for the puffin, but Li tore it away from him. "What do you say?"
"Thank you?" Li pecked him suddenly on the cheek as he rested the puffin in Emil's arms. A little pink from the unexpected display of affection, Emil buried his face in the stuffed toy before looking back at the reason he was even holding a puffin. "I meant it, thanks."
"No problem," Li shrugged, taking Emil's hand in his. "Let's see if we can still afford dinner."