My eyes scanned the QR codes printed in the dotted box next to the machine—two codes meant two free attempts. Perfect for a couple of rookies like us.
"Do you want to try it first, Sousuke-kun?" Kana asked, though her fingers were already twitching toward the controls like a gamer eyeing a high-score machine.
"Nah, you go ahead," I said, stepping back with a grin. "This is your thing, after all."
Besides, watching you get all focused and determined is way more entertaining than any claw machine could ever be.
She was practically vibrating with excitement as she fed her ticket into the machine and took control of the joystick. Her entire demeanor shifted into what I could only describe as "serious gamer mode."
"Hmm, maybe if I go a little further to the right?" she muttered to herself, completely absorbed in her strategy. "But if I can hook that tail, then…"
She's talking to herself. That's… actually pretty adorable.
The machine seemed to have no time limit, which was both a blessing and a curse. Kana took full advantage, adjusting the claw's position with the precision of a surgeon performing brain surgery. Every micro-movement was calculated, every angle considered.
But as we all know, preparation time and success rate don't always correlate…
"WHAT?!"
Her cry of outrage echoed through the entire gaming area. Both attempts had ended in spectacular failure, the claw grabbing nothing but air.
"You've got to be kidding me!" She clenched her fists at the machine like it had personally insulted her family. "Why did the joystick suddenly slow down at the end? This has to be rigged!"
Ah, the classic claw machine conspiracy theory. Every frustrated player's go-to explanation.
Before I could offer any consoling words, she spun around with the intensity of a woman on a mission.
"Sousuke-kun, guard this machine! Don't let anyone else take our spots!"
Our spots? When did this become a territorial dispute?
She sprinted off toward the change machine like her life depended on it, leaving me standing there like a confused bodyguard. Within moments, she was back, clutching ten 100-yen coins like they were precious gems.
"I should definitely be able to catch one after a few more tries," she declared with the confidence of a gambling addict on their 'last' bet. "It's only 100 yen per play—basically free! Just watch my technique, Sousuke-kun!"
Oh no. I recognize this look. This is the expression of someone who's about to spend way more money than they should on something that costs a fraction of the investment to buy normally.
But when Kana got that determined gleam in her eyes, she became completely unstoppable. All her attention laser-focused on the machine filled with those colorful lizard figurines.
She gripped the joystick with renewed determination, selected her target with military precision, and slowly lowered the claw…
And then… nothing.
1000 yen later, still no prize.
Without missing a beat, she marched back to the change machine.
At this point, she could probably just buy a similar figurine online for the same price. But try telling that to someone in full claw-machine-conquest mode.
When a woman becomes this fixated on something, reasoning with her is like trying to negotiate with a natural disaster. You just have to ride it out and hope for minimal casualties to your wallet.
Another ten coins, another round of attempts. Five more tries, five more failures. At this rate, we were going to be here until the exhibition closed.
Time for intervention before she bankrupts herself over plastic lizards.
"Kana-chan, take a break and let me try?" I suggested gently, hoping to break her out of the trance.
"Okay, Sousuke-kun," she stepped aside reluctantly, shooting the machine one last accusatory glare. "You better show this thing who's boss."
No pressure at all.
I approached the machine with the casual confidence of someone who definitely wasn't internally panicking about potentially failing in front of the girl he was trying to impress.
First attempt: failure.
Okay, so it really is rigged. Or I just suck at this. Probably both.
But I wasn't about to give up after watching Kana pour her heart and soul (and 1500 yen) into this endeavor. I kept trying, gradually getting a feel for the machine's quirks and timing.
By the fourth attempt, I was getting close. The claw was actually grabbing the figurines now, just not quite firmly enough.
Fifth attempt—my last coin.
Kana was practically hyperventilating beside me, looking like she was afraid to even breathe in case it somehow jinxed my attempt.
Come on, you stupid claw. Don't make me look like an idiot in front of the cute girl.
I positioned the claw carefully, lowered it with surgical precision, and—
"Success! I caught it!"
Not just one—somehow, miraculously, two leopard gecko figurines tumbled down into the prize chute.
Holy crap, I actually did it. And got two! I'm basically a claw machine god now.
"Kyaa! That's incredible, Sousuke-kun! You're amazing!" Kana was practically bouncing as she clutched both figurines, her face glowing with pure joy.
"Two figurines for 2000 yen—it's like getting them for free!" she exclaimed.
I'm not sure that math checks out, but her happiness is definitely worth whatever we spent.
Watching her usually composed, professional demeanor completely dissolve into childlike excitement was surprisingly heart-warming. There was something endearing about seeing this hidden side of her personality.
"Here, Sousuke-kun—one for each of us," she said, pressing one of the figurines into my hands.
"Are you sure? You're the one who loves reptiles so much."
"Of course! You're the one who actually caught them," she smiled warmly. "Besides, this is my first time hanging out with you like this, so it's a very special memento. I'll definitely treasure it forever."
Forever, huh? That's… actually really sweet.
She kept turning her figurine over in her hands, examining every tiny detail like it was made of precious metal instead of painted plastic.
"Sousuke-kun, do you remember when I told you about my college classmate who keeps reptiles?" she asked suddenly.
"Of course. You said that's how you got interested in watching reptile videos, right?"
"Exactly! You have such a good memory," she beamed, still radiating post-victory euphoria.
Well, when the information comes from you, it tends to stick in my brain pretty effectively.
"Actually, I visited her during a business trip to Hokkaido once, and she showed me this really special leopard gecko."
"Special how?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"It was completely snow-white! Absolutely adorable."
"Wait, leopard geckos come in white?"
This is definitely outside my newly-acquired reptile knowledge zone.
"Yes! Apparently it was the offspring of a rare albino lizard and something called a blizzard gecko," she explained enthusiastically. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it? Different leopard geckos have different colors and patterns, and when two different variants mate, they can sometimes produce completely new variants that combine characteristics from both parents."
Okay, this is actually pretty interesting. Reptile genetics sound more complex than I thought.
"The lizards she keeps are really energetic too," Kana continued, her excitement building. "The pairs she likes get along so well together. They mated almost immediately and had a whole bunch of babies last year."
Did she just…?
"Speaking of mating…"
She stopped mid-sentence, and I watched in fascination as the realization of what she'd just said hit her like a freight train. Her cheeks went from pale to pink to full-on crimson in record time.
And there it is. The moment innocent reptile talk becomes accidentally suggestive. Classic light novel timing.
The sudden silence stretched between us as Kana stared at her figurine with the intensity of someone trying to will themselves into disappearing.
Should I say something? Pretend I didn't notice? Make a joke? Why do these situations never come with an instruction manual?