"This claw… is way too loose!"
After watching his target plushie slip from the mechanical grip for the sixth consecutive time, Kasumigaoka Touji could only stare in speechless frustration at the indifferent glass. A deep sense of injustice simmered within him. Are they even calibrating these things, or do they just hate seeing customers win?
He glanced over his shoulder at Kani Nayuta. She was still deeply engrossed in her own battle, her brow furrowed in concentration as she maneuvered the claw over the stubborn Pan-san. Seeing she hadn't succeeded yet offered him a sliver of petty relief. At least he wasn't the only one struggling.
Muttering curses about the store's cheapness under his breath, he inserted another token with a resigned sigh. He was in too deep now. The plushie he'd been targeting was practically kissing the edge of the prize chute. Surrendering at this point was unthinkable!
It took two more agonizing attempts—each filled with hopeful tension and crushing disappointment—before the claw finally, mercifully, nudged the prize just right. It teetered on the brink for a heart-stopping second before tumbling down the chute with a soft, victorious thud.
"Fuuu—"
He let out a long, slow exhale, as if purging all the accumulated frustration. A wave of pure, unadulterated satisfaction finally washed over him.
"Here."
Clutching his hard-won spoils—a fluffy, round hamster plushie—he sauntered over to Kani Nayuta's side. He held it up proudly, dangling it before her eyes like a trophy.
Let's be honest, after witnessing their mutual struggles, he was fairly certain they were both equally terrible at this. But that didn't matter. He'd gotten one first. That granted him temporary bragging rights, and he intended to use them.
"Eh? Winter-sensei caught one already? How many tries did it take?" A flicker of genuine surprise lit up her sky-blue eyes as she looked from the plushie to his face.
"Eight," he declared, the number sounding both heroic and slightly pathetic.
He peered into the machine she was commandeering. "Which one are you aiming for? Want some expert assistance?" he offered, riding the high of his minor victory. Having secured one prize, he felt an influx of confidence—a dangerous illusion, perhaps, but a potent one. More than that, he genuinely wanted to help her win her own prize.
"No, thank you. I'll do it myself." Kani Nayuta waved a hand, refusing without taking her eyes off the claw's positioning. A slight, competitive urgency had taken root in her heart. She'd already invested six tokens. If she didn't succeed within the next two, she'd temporarily fall behind in their self-declared tournament.
Kani Nayuta wanted to win. It wasn't just about childish pride. The prize—the "initiative" for the night—carried a thrilling, intimate weight. The thought of freely directing her idol's… attentions… was a powerful motivator.
Seeing her determined refusal, Kasumigaoka Touji felt a twinge of disappointment but didn't press. He glanced around at the neon-lit jungle of machines. "Alright then. I'll go scout for more conquests elsewhere."
"Hai." Kani Nayuta nodded, then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she turned and fixed him with a serious look. "No cheating!"
"Who, me? Cheat?" Kasumigaoka Touji was rendered momentarily speechless by the accusation. There was really no need for such underhanded tactics. Winning was winning, losing was losing. And honestly, losing didn't seem like the worst outcome… letting Kani Nayuta take the 'lead' for once might have its own unique rewards.
"..."
The arcade's UFO catcher section was a diverse ecosystem. It wasn't just plushies; there were machines filled with sealed anime figure boxes, blind bag capsules, snacks, and even specialized variants like scissor-cut machines and lipstick grabbers. The most popular ones seemed to be the blind box and cosmetic machines, each surrounded by a small crowd of hopeful players.
Kasumigaoka Touji drifted over and joined the spectators. He had to admit, watching others play was its own peculiar entertainment. There was a certain schadenfreude in seeing a near-miss, a sympathetic wince when a prize slipped free. And when someone succeeded, a spike of envy mixed with inspiration: I could do that!
Occasionally, he'd watch a player position the claw in a blatantly doomed location and have to physically restrain himself from stepping forward, mentally screaming, You fool! Move it to the left! Let a professional handle this!
After riding this rollercoaster of vicarious emotions for a while, he finally claimed a vacant blind box machine for himself, feeding in a token with renewed, if misguided, confidence. A new cycle of hope and despair began.
"..."
"Winter-sensei… is that all you caught?"
Roughly half an hour later, they reconvened at a designated spot near the prize exchange counter. Kani Nayuta stood before him, but she was almost unrecognizable. In her hands, she held not one, but two large, transparent plastic bags, both bulging with a colorful avalanche of plush toys.
She glanced at the meager haul in Kasumigaoka Touji's hand—three small blind box figures and his original hamster—and the corners of her rosy lips curled upward into a smile of pure, unadulterated triumph. She puffed out her chest, the movement exaggerated by her pride. "It would appear… the victory is mine! This is a glorious triumph for Kani Nayuta!"
"What kind of 'victory' are you even talking about?!" Kasumigaoka Touji stared, dumbfounded, at the two sacks of plushie hostages. His brain took a full three seconds to process the scene before his eyes narrowed in dawning realization. Oh, you've got to be kidding me. He'd warned her not to cheat, and she'd gone and orchestrated the mother of all cheats instead? Where was her sense of sportsmanship!?
"Did you… did you just buy these from the staff?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he gestured at the bounty. Their parting not long ago was clear in his memory: Kani Nayuta had been down to her last few tokens and held only two or three plushies. This staggering haul materialized in a impossibly short time. The math didn't add up.
"I didn't buy anything," Kani Nayuta shook her head, her silver hair swaying. "These were all legitimately acquired using my fifty tokens."
"Is that so?" Kasumigaoka Touji raised a skeptical eyebrow. There was only one other logical explanation. "You called in a ringer, didn't you? Outside help."
It was the only possibility, yet it was still bizarre. Those two bags combined likely held over fifteen plushies. What kind of 'help' could achieve that with the limited coins she'd had left?
"Iie, I did not," she insisted, widening her big, blue eyes to project an image of pristine innocence. "I merely… happened to run into a friend. And my friend was kind enough to play a few rounds using my remaining tokens…"
She paused for dramatic effect, letting the implications sink in. "So… technically, the spoils from my tokens belong to me. That's perfectly logical, isn't it? There's no flaw in that reasoning, right?"
"Alright, you're out!" Kasumigaoka Touji declared, miming the pulling of a red card from an imaginary pocket. "Disqualified!"
"Eh? Huh?"
"What do you mean 'huh'?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with mock outrage. "We were having a one-on-one competition, and you brought in a professional substitute! If you're not disqualified, then who is? Therefore, by default, I am the uncontested winner of this round!" He finished by thumping a fist against his own chest in a gesture of self-proclaimed victory.
"Winter-sensei, that's so sly! I didn't ask her to help per se, it was a chance encounter…" Kani Nayuta tried to argue, her lower lip jutting out in a pout.
"Sophistry. It won't work on this judge," he said flatly, crossing his arms. His curiosity, however, was now thoroughly piqued. He looked around the bustling arcade. "So… where is this legendary friend of yours? Did she leave after single-handedly funding your plushie empire?"
A friend who was a master at claw machines… In this world, that description could really only point to one person.
Having 'lost' her claim to the night's coveted initiative, a slightly deflated Kani Nayuta shifted the heavy bag in her right hand to join the one in her left. She then turned and pointed a finger toward a cluster of rhythm game cabinets. "She didn't leave. She's right over there."
Kasumigaoka Touji followed her gesture.
And there she was.
A girl dressed in an outfit so suspicious it would likely warrant a concerned phone call to the police even in broad daylight. A oversized, worn-out blue hoodie drowned her frame, the hood pulled up over a cap whose brim was pulled low. The cap itself was the giveaway—emblazoned across the front in bold, white letters were the triumphant words: 'VICTORY! UMR!'
It was unmistakable. That was Doma Umaru. Or rather, her legendary gaming alter-ego.
As if sensing their attention, the hooded figure raised a hand and gave a casual, two-fingered wave. Then, hoisting a large bag of her own plushie conquests onto her shoulder, she began ambling toward them with the relaxed, confident stride of a champion returning from the field. The mystery ringer was approaching.