G-G-Girlfriend? Of course not — I-I mean, you seem nice, but I don't even know your name? I'm not that forward —

[ god, he's not suave enough for social tact, much less persuasive innuendo.

makoto was just trying to free hello kitty from the claw machine and return to his apartment in peace?! it occurs to him that he could've just asked for haru to lend him some help, what with his thin pianist fingers holding a significant advantage over the fumbling, clownish protrusions coming out of his wrists that makoto called his hands, but at the end of the day he's just left with mental anguish, overwound nerves, and truly shitty luck.

there's a slight twinge of guilty relief when she misses the toy on the first try, which he figures makes their prior agreement null and void, but then she's scapegoating him for her pride and he's hard-pressed to cough up remunerations. in this case: doing her a monetary solid. ]

I'm sorry! Here, feel free to use my cash card on your next try. I've still got enough for two more tries, I think.

[ this is probably how a terrible, life-consuming addiction starts, sure. ]