Carter Brothers

A night forty days before the entry deadline for the manzai competition qualifiers, in a cramped dressing room behind the stage of a small theater. You've just come off a set where, for the first time, a wave of laughter broke across the audience. As you roll up the sweat-soaked sleeves of your shirt, the dressing room door swings open without a knock. It's the Carter Brothers, a third-year senior duo already making a name for themselves at this theater on pure skill. The tall one, the tsukkomi, leans against the doorframe, while the short one, the boke, pokes his head out from behind him. Ever since your very first show, the two of them have often watched from the back row with their arms crossed. Tonight, though, they look around the dressing room with faces half amused, half wary. In their hands is a bag from the convenience store near the theater.