Local fool wastes hundreds on useless plastic (Not Clickbait)

Yoshino’s carats clattered softly as they pushed them one by one into the slot on the gacha machine. That noise was followed by the click of the machine’s knob as they turned it, then the sound of a plastic capsule bouncing down into the prize tray.

They snatched the capsule up almost the second it popped out and swiftly opened it, only for their mouth to twist in disappointment. A small, plain pink bun figurine with a slightly lopsided painted face smiled up at them.

“It’s the same one as last time,” they announced unnecessarily, snapping the capsule closed again and dropping into their shopping bag, where it landed in a pile of similar ones. The contents of the bag were more gacha toy than groceries by volume at this point; it was a good thing they hadn’t picked up anything perishable, considering the time they’d wasted at Holland’s gachapon machine already. This nonsense wasn’t even remotely what they’d come into Harlequin to buy.

Holland, for his part, had been watching all of this with his typical half-lidded expression barely budging. He wasn’t gagged right now, though that didn’t mean he’d had much to say either as Yoshino sacrificed handful after handful of carats upon the unfeeling altar of the gachapon.

“One more,” Yoshino muttered, fishing more out of their purse, which did prompt Holland to finally speak up.

“That’s what you said the last five times.”

“Those don’t count,” Yoshino retorted with uncharacteristic vehemence. This kind of thing ought to be easy, right? You play enough times, you get the figure you want. It was basic math. The math was not working out in their favor right now, though.

Yoshino wasn’t even a particularly big collector of figurines like the ones the machine currently dispensed. They’d just happened to see a poster outside featuring a set of admittedly adorable pastel figures, and the rarest ones were themed after fruits, and they had known that the back room of Harlequin was one of the best places to try winning one of the silly little things. It was stupid and they knew it was stupid, but Yoshino wanted one. Ideally the blueberry one they’d been gunning for this whole time, but honestly at this point, they would take any of the rare figures. Yoshino was not a bun accustomed to not getting what they wanted, and it was really grinding their gears. Much the way the gears inside the machine ground when they next spun the crank with unnecessary force.

When the next capsule deposited into the tray popped open to reveal the same pink figurine for the third time in a row, they could have screamed.

“You’re getting kind of bent out of shape over this,” Holland muttered, and yes, okay, that was true. There was no reason for them to be this irritated over a cheap plastic toy. Ignoring the fact that it wasn’t cheap at this point, considering all the money they’d sunk into the gachapon trying to win one of the figurines that they actually wanted. Yoshino wasn’t a bun given to strong displays of emotions, either, and that was at war with the fact their previously mentioned lack of experience with things like delayed gratification.

There was probably a joke that could be made about having this mini meltdown over the delayed gratification in front of Holland, of all people. Yoshino also had a firm “no jokes” policy, however, so they were going to ignore it.

“One more,” they said again, mostly to themselves, but Holland evidently felt the need to respond.

“Okay.” Under other circumstances, they could have appreciated the amount of sarcasm he managed to pack into one quiet word.

“I don’t need your sass, either.” They shot him a sidelong look. The faintest trace of a smile crossed Holland’s face.

“Are you going to do something about it?” Was he teasing them? Harley really was rubbing off on him. (No jokes about “rubbing off,” either. They weren't doing it.)

“No,” Yoshino replied loftily, turning back to the machine and shoving more carats into it.

“Killjoy.” Despite that, Holland sounded the slightest bit amused. 

“You’re getting enough entertainment watching me suffer, aren’t you?” They turned the crank. This time the figurine that popped out was plain green - not one of the ones that they wanted, but not the pink one again, at the very least. If it was the pink one again, Yoshino might have unlocked a new emotion. They didn’t think they’d ever really been deeply furious before, but they could see the potential for it in this stupid little machine.

They tossed the green figurine and its capsule into their bag with an annoyed sigh. “I’m starting to think that I should cut you off,” Holland remarked, peering into the bag to look at how the plastic capsules and their contents all but buried the other things they’d bought. (This was supposed to be a quick and easy errand run. They weren’t about to ask how long they’d spent fighting with the gachapon.)

“One more, and then you can cut me off, okay? Just one more.”

“Okay, but actually just one more,” Holland agreed. He had a look on his face that suggested he might be considering asking whether Yoshino could even afford to waste this much money, but that sort of personal probing was beyond his social prowess. (It was fine, they were fine. They had paying clients and a littermate they could always hit up for spare carats if they were short on something. It. Was. Fine.)

The carats went in. The crank turned. Yoshino almost felt compelled to hold their breath as the capsule clattered out, but that was a bridge too far even with the way they’d worked themselves up over this.

They retrieved the capsule and popped it open. A tiny yellow bun with a white floral pattern smiled vacantly up at them.

“Hey, that’s one of the rare drops. Just regular rare and not super rare, but-” The rest of Holland’s explanation was lost in Yoshino groaning and letting their forehead thunk against the front of the gacha.

“I hate this. This is so stupid. I want my money back,” they groused.

“I’m cutting you off now,” Holland said, instead of addressing their futile complaint about the money. The gachapon remained as cold and unfeeling as ever. Something to aspire to, honestly.

That was… fine. Honestly it was for the best. They were going to shove all of this plastic nonsense off on the first person they could, and that meant that there would be no evidence left behind in their own possession of just how much time and money they’d wasted on this fruitless endeavor. This was worse than gambling. At least gambling could get you something useful.

Yoshino gathered their bag with much grumbling, trying to pretend they couldn’t hear all of the capsules and figurines rustling around inside, and made a beeline for the exit.

Behind them, Holland raised his voice just enough to be heard as he called after them. “If you stop by again when I get more of these, you might actually win one of the super rares!”

Yoshino pretended not to hear. They were above this kind of thing, anyway.