From the glass corridor, we walked along the seventh‑deck passage towards the lifts. The sky shifted from honey to deep orange, the sea breeze cooling as it blew across the deck and pulled our skirts back. I pressed the lift button. The doors opened, and the light for the fourteenth deck was already lit.
The lift rose. Dianzi took the squirrel out of her bag and held it in her arms. The squirrel's black‑bean eyes watched the floor numbers tick upward, its tail hanging from the crook of her arm.
"I want to play games," she said.
"Then play."
The lift doors opened. I pushed the door to the arcade. Neon light in purple and green leaked through the gap, scattering coloured fragments on the dark red carpet. The arcade was on the fourteenth deck. It wasn't crowded at this hour, but the bass from the dance machines still thumped through the walls, hitting our chests.
Dianzi followed me inside. The air smelled of sweat, popcorn, and old machine oil. She touched the fine chain around her neck. A faint blue glow flickered, and a semi‑transparent floating interface projected in front of her. The lens – embedded in the crystal on her choker – shifted with her movement.
She raised the lens high, letting it sweep across the neon sign. Purple, green, blue tubes bent into the letters A R C A D E. A few tubes flickered, their light uneven.
[chat] An arcade!
[chat] I loved these places as a kid 🎮
[chat] What are you playing today?
The claw machine area was at the back. A row of machines stood against the wall, their glass cases lit warmly from within. Stuffed animals sat inside – penguins, rabbits, a shiba inu, and a round squirrel holding an acorn, its fluffy tail curled up.
Dianzi stopped in front of the squirrel machine.
"I want that one."
I looked at her. "Put your own coins in."
"You catch it for me. I never win."
I took a few tokens from the Lingguang Xihuan on my left wrist – the wristband that glowed faintly and could store small items. A soft hum vibrated against my skin, and a faint silver‑white light flickered as the tokens materialised in my palm. I dropped one into the slot. The machine lit up. The claw clicked and moved to the start position. I held the joystick, eyes on the squirrel through the glass, adjusted the position, and pressed the button. The claw dropped, opened, grabbed the squirrel by its body, and lifted. Halfway up, it loosened. The squirrel fell back and rolled to the side of the chute.
"So close," Dianzi said, biting her lower lip.
"It's fine. Second try. Watch carefully this time." I put in another token. I adjusted several times – forward a little, left a little – then pressed the button. The claw dropped, closed firmly around the squirrel's waist, lifted, moved sideways, and released above the chute. The squirrel fell into the dispenser with a soft plastic thud.
Dianzi bent down, pulled the squirrel out, and held it up. Her eyes sparkled. As she bent, her skirt rode up slightly, revealing a strip of bare skin between the hem and the edge of her white over‑the‑knee stockings – pale as porcelain, catching the purple‑green neon light. When she straightened, the skirt fell back, hiding it again. The squirrel's fur was soft, her fingers pressing a shallow dent into its belly. She held it up to her eyes and looked into its black‑bean eyes for a moment.
"Sister is amazing."
[chat] Big sister is too strong 👏
[chat] Little sister just knows how to beg
[chat] That squirrel is so cute 🐿️
She turned the squirrel over and looked at the acorn it held – brown, with a small white spot. She rubbed the spot with her fingertip, then turned the squirrel back to face herself.
"I love lychees. I'll call you Lychee from now on."
She tucked Lychee into her bag, leaving only its head visible. The squirrel's black‑bean eyes stared out at the ceiling, watching the neon tubes flicker.
I stood beside her, tapping a finger on the joystick. "What next?"
"I also want that pink dolphin."
I looked at the pink dolphin machine in the corner. The dolphin sat in the centre of the turntable, surrounded by other toys.
The arcade wasn't crowded. The VR deep‑sea area had a queue that hadn't moved. A young man in a plaid shirt danced on the dance machine, his rhythm completely off. A few people watched and laughed. He laughed too, then kept dancing with the wrong beat.
Dianzi and I walked through the middle aisle towards the claw machine corner. A group of tourists walked past us – backpacks, cameras around their necks. They talked loudly.
"This place is smaller than I expected," one said.
"All ship arcades are like this," another answered.
"The pool was nice, just too crowded." A third tossed his drink cup into a nearby bin.
One of them brushed against Dianzi's bag as they passed. Lychee's tail swung.
"Oh, sorry." He glanced back at her.
"It's fine," Dianzi said.
He nodded, turned, and disappeared into the dance machine noise. I glanced at Dianzi but said nothing.
At the corner of the claw machine area, I put in a token and reached for the joystick. But my gaze had shifted.
A young man stood by one of the machines. Dark jacket, maybe twenty‑five. He wasn't looking at the machine. He was looking at his phone. The screen light hit his face, revealing dark circles under his eyes – the kind that came from many sleepless nights. His other hand was in his pocket, fingers rubbing against the fabric. The seam of his trousers was wrinkled from the motion.
The arcade was loud. The bass thumped. The dance machine shouted "Perfect!" Someone laughed. But he stood there, isolated in his own world. His phone was his only light. A job listing page, scrolled halfway down.
I looked away and pressed the button. The claw dropped, grabbed the pink dolphin, but it wobbled. The dolphin fell back onto the turntable.
"Missed," Dianzi said.
"Yes, this one is tricky. We'll try again later."
I took a small paper packet from my bag. Pale yellow powder shifted inside. I held the packet in my palm and checked my reflection on the phone screen. Then I walked towards the man.
As I passed him, my fingers loosened. The packet dropped. Pale yellow powder scattered through the air and landed on his collar and the back of his neck. The powder was fine, almost invisible under the neon lights, but he flinched and reached back to scratch.
"Oh, I spilled my powder." My voice was cool, with a touch of apology. "The job on your phone will come. But this itch won't wait. Let me help you pat it off."
Before he could answer, I reached out and lightly patted the powder from his neck with my fingertips. My nails brushed his skin. His shoulder tensed.
He froze, then lowered his scratching hand.
"Thank you," he said. His voice was hoarse.
"Are you waiting for an interview invitation?" I asked.
He nodded. "I've been sending out applications for months. No one replies."
He said he checks his email every day. Then the job app. Then email again. Same interface, same emptiness. Not even an itch comes.
Dianzi came over with Lychee in her arms and held the squirrel up to his face. The squirrel's black‑bean eyes stared at him, its tail hanging from her arm, fluffy.
"Lychee says waiting for news is hard."
He looked down at the round‑headed squirrel holding its acorn, its black‑bean eyes staring back. The corner of his mouth moved – not a smile, but not not a smile.
"I check my email every day. The job app. Same thing over and over," he said.
Dianzi took a token from her bag and held it out to him. The token shone silver in her palm, its edges scratched from previous uses.
"Play one round. Even the machine tells you to try again."
He hesitated, then took the token. He walked to the nearest claw machine. Inside were small colourful octopuses with round eyes and curled tentacles. He put in the token, gripped the joystick. His fingers were stiff. He stopped several times to adjust. Then he pressed the button. The claw dropped and scraped past an octopus. Empty.
He laughed. A real laugh this time.
"It didn't work," he said.
"That's fine. Next time will be better," Dianzi said.
He took his hand off the joystick and put it back in his pocket. This time, his fingers didn't rub.
"Thank you," he said. Then he turned and walked towards the arcade exit. His shoulders were less tight than before. His phone stayed in his pocket. He didn't take it out again.
——Three hundred resumes. She didn't ask about work. She asked about waiting. Because waiting breaks you.
I stood by the claw machine, watching his figure disappear into the purple‑green neon glow.
[chat] What did sister just do?
[chat] Who was that man?
[chat] Daughter is so sweet for giving him a token 🎮
[chat] Hope he finds a job 🙏
I walked to the pink dolphin machine and put in another token. The claw dropped, grabbed the dolphin's tail firmly, lifted, moved sideways, and released. The dolphin fell into the dispenser. I took it out, turned it over, and looked at its belly. A small label on the pink fabric read Made with love.
I tucked it into Dianzi's bag, next to Lychee. The dolphin's tail stuck out from the bag, pink, like a small patch of sunset cloud.
"Let's go," I said.
"All right, let's go." She followed, adjusting the bag strap on her shoulder.
She followed me out of the arcade. The door closed behind us, cutting off the bass. The corridor was quiet now – only our footsteps and the distant sound of waves. Through the glass door, the neon lights flickered – purple, green, blue – like a phone screen waiting for a message.
She looked back once. The pink dolphin machine was still turning, one spot empty on the turntable. In the corner where the man had stood, a few crushed plastic tokens lay on the floor, reflecting the neon light.
I walked half a step ahead and didn't look back. She pushed Lychee and the pink dolphin deeper into her bag. Lychee's tail stuck out, swaying gently in the corridor breeze.
At the end of the corridor, through the porthole, the sky had shifted from deep orange to grey‑blue. The sea had calmed, the sparkling crests fading. In the distance, the shadow of a cargo ship moved, its outline blurred by mist, only a white light visible in the darkness.
I stopped and looked at that light.
"Sister, what are you looking at?"
"That ship."
"Where is it going?"
"I don't know. But it keeps moving."
She didn't ask again. She just leaned her cheek against my arm.