Qingxiao looked at him and nodded firmly.
Then he reached out and hauled Takaba up from the ground.
The instant Takaba was pulled to his feet, the lights in the dining car suddenly came on.
Not a dim, warm glow, but the white light of spotlights.
The roof vanished, the walls vanished, and the bar counter and the two cups of culinary abominations vanished.
In their place was a small college theater, with wooden flooring, red curtains, and a sparse scattering of spectators.
Takaba stood at center stage, wearing his old college T-shirt.
Qingxiao stood beside him.
Not the Qingxiao from inside the barrier, but a college-student Qingxiao in the same kind of old T-shirt, his hair a mess.
He held a microphone, looking a little nervous, but stood straight.
"Up next-" Takaba heard his own voice coming through the microphone, trembling slightly. "Our comedy routine!"
The first routine they performed was called "The Interview."
Takaba played the interviewer, and Qingxiao played the job applicant.
Sitting on a folding chair, Takaba flipped through the "résumé" in his hands and cleared his throat. "What special skills do you have?"
Qingxiao stood ramrod straight, his face expressionless. "I can box."
Takaba looked up at him. "This is an office job."
Qingxiao fell silent for two seconds, then punched the folding table beside him.
With a crack, the table collapsed.
Qingxiao withdrew his hand, still expressionless. "How about now?"
There were several awkward silences. Laughter was scarce, applause scattered. Some people played on their phones, while others chatted.
But when the performance ended, the two of them stood onstage, grinning like a pair of idiots at that little bit of laughter and applause.
Backstage, Qingxiao patted his shoulder. "Next time will be better."
"Yeah!" Takaba nodded hard.
The scene shifted.
After graduation,