The cafeteria was the same one I remembered, mostly.
Same brutalist concrete ceiling, same plastic trays stacked in the same crooked column, same hand-lettered sign above the soup station that had been "soup of the day: ask" for the entire four years I'd been a student.
Whoever ran the sign had simply given up at some point and let the universe handle the rest.
Yuna led me through the side entrance like she had done it a thousand times, which she probably had, and waved off the cashier with a small smile that said put it on my faculty tab, I'll handle the rest of it.
I trailed her with my tray, attempting to look like a man who belonged here, which I did not, because the last time I had been in this cafeteria I had been twenty-two and had weighed about thirty pounds less and had been wearing the same hoodie for three days running.
