Dagashi Diaries #3: Chicchakunatta Maken Gumi — rock-paper-scissors cola gummy, ¥25

A gummy shaped like a rock-paper-scissors hand. Comes with a lottery ticket. I lost. The gummy was still worth it.

Maken Gumi — literally “don’t lose gummy” — has been made by Sugimotoya Seika since 1990. The original version is hand-sized, shaped like a rock-paper-scissors hand gesture, and designed to be used as a prop during janken. This is the Chicchakunatta version — “chicchakunatta” meaning “got smaller.” Same concept, smaller format. Each piece is roughly the size of a US quarter — small enough to sit in the centre of your palm. One piece costs ¥25 including tax, which is about $0.16 at April 2026 rates (approximately ¥159 per USD).

The shape

A gummy shaped like a janken hand

Janken — rock-paper-scissors — is deeply embedded in Japanese daily life. It resolves disputes, decides who goes first, settles arguments between children and adults alike. Maken Gumi took that cultural shorthand and made it edible. The gummy comes in three shapes: rock (グー, a closed fist), scissors (チョキ, two fingers extended), and paper (パー, an open hand). This one is rock.

“In the early Heisei era, children at dagashi shops would buy one and play janken using the gummy as the hand shape. What happened after — whether the loser handed over their piece or simply ate it themselves — likely varied by group and by region. The gummy was the prop; the rules were whatever the children decided.”

That specific use case — dagashi as janken prop — belongs to a particular moment in Japanese childhood that is fading. Dagashi shops have steadily declined as convenience stores expanded, and the generation of children who played janken with full-sized Maken Gumi at the local candy shop is now adult. The smaller version exists in a different context: bought individually, eaten alone, the game element present more as memory than active practice.

The lottery

Every piece comes with a ticket. I lost.

Attached to each piece is a small lottery ticket — a classic dagashi feature. A winning ticket gets you a free replacement. A losing ticket gets you nothing except the gummy you already bought, which is fine. I lost. The gummy was still worth ¥25.

The lottery element is part of what makes dagashi culture distinct from regular snack buying. There’s a small gamble built into the transaction, which adds a moment of anticipation that a standard purchase doesn’t have. For children, that moment matters. For adults buying this out of nostalgia, it still lands.

The flavour

Cola — sharp, sour, and satisfying

Two flavours are available: cola and grape. I chose cola. The gummy has a firm, bouncy texture — more resistance than a soft European-style gummy, less than a hard candy. It holds its shape well and takes a deliberate chew to get through, which extends the eating experience beyond what the size suggests.

The cola flavour is pronounced and slightly acidic — sharper than a standard cola sweet. For anyone who enjoys sour candy, this sits at the right level: present enough to notice, not so intense that it overwhelms. The sourness fades quickly and leaves a clean cola finish. Grape would likely be sweeter and milder; cola is the better choice for anyone who prefers their gummy with some edge.

Context

A smaller gummy from a smaller world

The Chicchakunatta version arrived in the late 2010s, when both dagashi shops and the child population in Japan had declined significantly. The full-sized Maken Gumi still exists, but the smaller format reflects a shift — fewer children, smaller quantities, individual portions rather than group play. It’s sold at convenience stores and supermarkets now, not just candy shops.

At ¥25, it’s one of the cheapest dagashi still in production. The shape still references janken, the lottery ticket still offers that small moment of possibility, and the gummy itself is still good. The context around it has changed. The candy hasn’t.

Chicchakunatta Maken Gumi is available at convenience stores, supermarkets, and dagashi shops across Japan. Look for the small foil-wrapped pieces near the register or in the dagashi section. At ¥25, it’s hard to think of another snack that carries this much nostalgia in such a small wrapper.