"Are you a comedian?" Qingxiao asked.
Takaba's eyes lit up at once, as if someone had flipped a switch, and he leaned half a step closer:
"You've seen my act?!"
"No." Qingxiao screwed the bottle cap back on, his tone flat. "But you've got performance written all over you."
Takaba froze for a moment, then gave him a deeply earnest bow, the half of his outfit swaying with him:
"Thank you! That's the highest praise a comedian can get!"
Qingxiao said nothing.
He had meant to ask whether this guy had something wrong with his head. He hadn't expected Takaba to actually be a comedian.
Qingxiao still had business to attend to. Hiromi Higuruma was waiting inside the barrier, and he had no time to waste on a comedian.
He turned to leave.
He had barely taken two steps when hurried footsteps sounded behind him.
Takaba darted forward and blocked his path, looking as serious as if he were cutting off an enemy's retreat.
"Wait! You haven't laughed yet!"
"Why should I laugh?"
"Because I'm a comedian! The whole point of a comedian is to make people laugh!"
Takaba gestured frantically:
"You sprayed water just now, but that wasn't laughing! Spraying water means you choked. Laughter is joy from the heart. They're two different things!"
Qingxiao looked at Takaba, utterly exasperated.
"Fine." He folded his arms and leaned against a broken wall beside him. "Do your act."
Seeing that he wasn't leaving, Takaba thought he had a chance and immediately got into character.
He cleared his throat and planted his feet, his expression as solemn as if he were opening a domain. "First move! A cold joke!"
"Do you know why ghosts never catch colds?
Because they're already at sub-ghost temperatures!"
After delivering the joke, Takaba looked at him expectantly.