Toshikazu Kawaguchi - Before the Coffee Gets Cold

So I ask you never to forget one thing. You are my wife, and if life becomes too hard for you as my wife, I want you to leave me.

You don’t have to stay by me as a nurse. If I am no good as a husband, then I want you to leave me. All I ask is that you can do what you can as my wife. We are husband and wife after all. Even if I lose my memory, I want to be together as husband and wife. I cannot stand the idea of us staying together only out of sympathy.

This is something I cannot say to your face, so I wrote it in a letter.

When Kazu finished reading, Kohtake and Kei looked up at the ceiling and began to cry loudly. Kohtake understood why Fusagi had handed this letter to her, his wife from the future. From the letter, it was clear that he had guessed what she would do after she found out about his illness. And then, when he came from the future, it became clear to him that, just as he predicted, in the future she was caring for him like a nurse.

Amid the anxiety and fear of losing his memory, he was hoping that she would continue to be his wife. She was always in his heart.

There was more proof of this to be found. Even after losing his memory, he could content himself by looking at travel magazines, opening his notebook, and jotting something down. She had once looked at what he wrote. He had been listing the destinations that he had travelled to in order to visit gardens. She had simply assumed his actions were a hangover from his love of his work as a landscape gardener. But she was wrong. The destinations he made a note of were all the places that he had visited with her. She didn’t notice at the time. She couldn’t see. These notes were the last hand-hold for Fusagi, who was gradually forgetting who she was.

Of course, that she had looked after him as a nurse didn’t feel like a mistake to her. She had believed that it was for the best. And he didn’t write the letter to blame her in any way either. It seemed to her that he knew that her talk about him getting healed was a lie, but it was a lie he wanted to believe. Otherwise , she thought, he wouldn’t have said ‘thank you’.

After her crying had stopped, the woman in the dress returned from the toilet, stood in front of her and spoke just one word.

‘Move!’ she said in a low voice.

‘Sure,’ she said, leaping up and relinquishing the seat.

The woman in the dress’s reappearance was impeccably timed, coinciding with a switch in Kohtake’s mood. Eyes swollen from crying, she looked at Kazu and Kei. She held up the letter that Kazu had just read, and waved it.

‘So there you have it,’ she said with a grin.

Kei responded by nodding, her round bright eyes still streaming tears like a waterfall.

‘What have I been doing?’ Kohtake mumbled, looking at the letter.

‘Kohtake,’ Kei sniffled, looking worried.

Kohtake neatly folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. ‘I’m going home,’ she said, in a bold, confident voice.

Kazu gave a small nod. Kei was still sniffing. Kohtake looked at the still-teary Kei, who had cried longer than she had. She smiled as she thought that Kei must be getting pretty dehydrated, and let out a deep breath. No longer looking lost, she seemed empowered. She pulled out her purse from her shoulder bag on the counter and handed Kazu 380 yen in coins.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

With a calm expression, Kazu returned her smile.

Kohtake gave a quick nod and walked towards the entrance. She stepped lightly. She was in a hurry to see Fusagi’s face.

She passed through the doorway and out of sight.

‘Ah!’ she said and doubled back into the cafe. Kazu and Kei looked at her enquiringly.

‘One more thing,’ she said. ‘Starting tomorrow, no more calling me by my maiden name, OK?’

She grinned broadly.

It was Kohtake who originally requested that she be called by her maiden name. When Fusagi had started calling her Kohtake, she wanted to avoid confusion. But such consideration was not necessary now. A smile returned to Kei’s face and her bright eyes opened widely.

‘OK, got you,’ she said happily.

‘Tell everyone else too,’ said Kohtake, and without waiting for a reply, she waved and left.

‘OK,’ said Kazu, as if speaking to herself, and put the money from Kohtake in the till.

Kei cleaned away the cup that Kohtake had drunk from and went into the kitchen to get a refill for the woman in the dress. The clank, clank sound of the keys of the cash register reverberated through the cool room. The ceiling fan continued to rotate silently. Kei returned and poured a new coffee for the woman in the dress. ‘We appreciate your presence again this summer,’ she whispered.

The woman in the dress continued to read her novel and did not reply. Kei placed her hand on her own stomach and smiled.

Summer was just getting started.

A girl was sitting quietly in that seat.

She looked old enough to be in high school. She had large, sweet eyes. She was wearing a beige turtleneck with a tartan-check miniskirt, black tights, and moss-brown boots. A duffel coat hung on the back of her chair. Her clothes could have been worn by an adult but there was something childlike about her expression. Her hair was cut in a bob to her jawline. She wore no make-up but her naturally long eyelashes accentuated her pretty features. Although she came from the future, there was nothing that would have prevented her from passing in public as someone from the present – if it hadn’t been for that rule that said that anyone visiting from the future must stay in that seat. As it was early August, her clothes would, however, have looked terribly out of season.

It was still a mystery as to who she had come to meet. Right now, the only person in the cafe was Nagare Tokita. The large-framed man with narrow eyes was wearing a cook’s uniform and standing behind the counter.

But the cafe proprietor didn’t seem to be who the girl had come to meet. Although her eyes were looking at Nagare, they showed no sign of emotion towards him. She seemed to be totally indifferent to his existence. But at the same time, no one else was in the cafe. Nagare stood there looking at her with his arms crossed.

Nagare was a large man. Any ordinary girl, or woman for that matter, might have felt a little threatened sitting in that small cafe alone with him. But the untroubled expression on this girl’s face suggested that she couldn’t care less.

The girl and Nagare had exchanged no words. The girl had been doing nothing except occasionally glancing at one of the clocks on the wall, as if she was worried about the time.

Suddenly Nagare’s nose twitched and his right eye opened wider. A ching from the toaster in the kitchen rang out. Food was ready. He went into the kitchen and began busily preparing something. The girl didn’t pay any attention to the noise and took a sip of her coffee. She nodded as if to say yes. The coffee must have still been warm as her expression suggested that she had plenty of time. Nagare came out from the kitchen. He was carrying a rectangular tray with toast and butter, salad, and fruit yogurt on it. The butter was home-made – his speciality. His butter was so good that the woman in curlers, Yaeko Hirai, would come in for some, armed with a plastic container.

Nagare got a lot of joy from watching the customers’ delight as they ate his delicious butter. The problem was that although he used the most expensive ingredients, the butter was free for customers. He didn’t charge for condiments; he was very particular about that. These high standards of his were quite a problem.

Still holding the tray, he stood in front of the girl. His large frame must have seemed like a giant wall to the petite girl seated there.