Shikamaru sighs and grumbles lowly. "This is such a drag, Anzu."
The older girl sighs and shakes her head. "Shikamaru, I don't care that you don't want to go to the Halloween fair. I do, and it'll be good for you to do something besides watching the clouds all day."
"… I like watching the clouds. They're not troublesome."
"I'll make you a deal." Anzu turns with her hand on her hip. "You pick one game at the fair appropriate for your age level. None of those silly games for three-year-olds. If you can win, then I'll let you watch the clouds for three whole days without saying a word. I'll even make a picnic lunch to bring to you each day so you can stay out."
Shikamaru's brown eyes slide from the blue sky holding fluffy white masterpieces onto the girl who has been taking his lazy attitude off his mother's hands during the day for the last couple of weeks. He studies her for a long moment. "… Do you mean that?"
"Yes. I mean every word."
"… Deal."
"Fine, now pick your game." She gestures around at the various games. Shikamaru's eyes slide around, automatically passing the games for toddlers, such as the fishing game where contestants hang "fishing rods" over a piece of cardboard and a hidden person clothespins a prize to the string then tugs for them to "reel in." He dismisses the usual type Halloween-themed fair games, searching for the easiest, and finally his eyes land upon a barrel with a sign next to it.
"What's that game, Anzu?"
"It looks like the gentleman is filling up the barrel for apple bobbing."
"What's the objective?"
"You simply pull out an apple without using anything but your mouth and face." They watch the shiny apples splash into the barrel and float to the top.
"… I choose that one."
He misses the smirk on his babysitter's face. "Fine. If you can pull out an apple before the fair closes, you win."
Shikamaru walks over with his hands in his pockets and peers into the barrel. With a sigh he leans in and bites at an apple… only for his teeth to slide right over the skin, the apple bobbing down into the water before resurfacing. A frown creases his forehead as he bites at it again with the same results. He'd thought this game would be much simpler; it had sounded easy enough. He withdraws his hands from his pockets and places them on the sides of the barrel, leaning in and nudging his chosen apple to the side, trying to find a way to hold it still long enough to bite. Time and time again, the apple bobs down or spins out of reach, and water splashes over his face and dampens his collar.
It had never occurred to him that he could lose.