Toshikazu Kawaguchi - Before the Coffee Gets Cold

‘What’s this?’

‘This sounds an alarm just before the coffee gets cold. So if the alarm sounds—’

‘OK. I know. I understand, OK?’

The vagueness of the deadline ‘just before the coffee gets cold’ worried Hirai. Even if she thought the coffee was cold, there still might be time remaining. Or she might think the coffee still had enough heat in it and make the mistake of staying too long and never making it back. An alarm made things much simpler and calmed her anxiety.

All she wanted to do was apologize. Kumi had made the effort to come to visit her time and time again but Hirai saw it only as a nuisance.

Apart from the matter of how she had treated Kumi so unkindly, there was also the matter of Kumi being made the successor to Takakura.

When Hirai left home and was cut off from the family, Kumi automatically became the successor. She was too obliging to betray the expectations of their parents, as Hirai had done.

But what if this had shattered a dream that she held?

If she once had a dream, ruined by Hirai’s selfish decision to run away, it would explain why she had so often visited Hirai to beg her to return home – she would want Hirai to come back so that she could have the freedom to pursue her own ambitions.

If Hirai had found her freedom at Kumi’s expense, then it would only be natural for her to feel resentful. Now there was no way of ending Hirai’s regret.

This was all the more reason for her to apologize. If she could not change the present, then at least she could say, ‘ Sorry, please forgive your selfish big sis. ’

Hirai looked into Kazu’s eyes and gave a firm, definite nod.

Kazu put the coffee in front of Hirai. She picked up the silver kettle from the tray with her right hand and looked at Hirai from underneath her lowered brow. This was the ceremony. The ceremony did not change, no matter who was sitting in that seat. Kazu’s expressions were part of it.

‘Just remember…’ Kazu paused and then whispered, ‘Drink the coffee before it goes cold.’

She began to slowly pour the coffee, which flowed soundlessly from the silver kettle’s narrow spout, like a single black thread. Hirai watched the surface of the liquid as it rose. The longer the coffee took to fill the cup, the more impatient she became. She wanted to go back and meet her little sister without delay. She wanted to see her, to apologize. But the coffee would start cooling the moment the cup was filled – she had precious little time.

Shimmering steam rose from the filled cup. Looking at it, Hirai began to experience an overwhelming dizziness. Her body became one with the steam that engulfed her, and she felt like she was beginning to rise. Although it was the first time experiencing this, she didn’t find it at all frightening. Feeling her impatience subside, she gently closed her eyes.

Hirai first visited the cafe seven years before. She was twenty-four and had been running her bar for about three months. One Sunday at the end of autumn she was strolling around the neighbourhood and casually popped into the cafe to check it out. The only customers were a woman in a white dress and herself. It was the time of the year when people started wearing scarves, but the woman in the dress was in short sleeves. Thinking that she must be a little chilly, even if she was inside, Hirai sat down at the counter.

She looked around the room, but there were no staff members in sight. When the bell had rung as she entered the cafe, she hadn’t heard anyone call out ‘Hello, welcome!’ as she might have expected. She got the impression that this cafe was not big on customer service, but this didn’t put her off. The kind of place that didn’t follow conventions appealed to her. She decided to wait to see if anyone who worked there would make an appearance. Perhaps sometimes the bell went unnoticed? She was suddenly curious as to whether this often happened. Also, the woman in the dress had not even noticed her; she just kept on reading her book. Hirai got the feeling that she had mistakenly stumbled into the cafe on a day when it was closed. After about five minutes, the bell rang and in came a girl who looked like she might be in junior high school. She casually said, ‘Hello, welcome,’ without any sense of urgency and walked off into the back room. Hirai was overjoyed by this: she had found a cafe that didn’t pander to customers. That meant freedom. There was no way of anticipating just when one would get served. She liked this kind of cafe – it was a refreshing change from the places that treated you in the same old predictable way. She lit a cigarette and waited leisurely.

After a short while, a woman appeared from the back room. By this time, Hirai was smoking her second cigarette. The woman was wearing a beige knit cardigan and a long white skirt with a wine-red apron over it. She had big round eyes.

The schoolgirl must have told her that they had a customer, but she entered the room in a laid-back, casual manner.

The woman with the big round eyes showed no sense of hurry. She poured some water into a glass and set it in front of Hirai. ‘Hello, welcome.’ She smiled as if everything was normal. A customer who expected to be treated in a special manner might have expected an apology for the slow service at least. But Hirai didn’t want or expect such service. The woman didn’t show any sign that she had behaved wrongly but instead smiled warmly. Hirai had never met another uninhibited woman who did things at her own pace, as she always did herself. She took an instant liking to her. Treat them mean, keep them keen , that was Hirai’s motto.

From then on, Hirai started visiting Funiculi Funicula every day. During that winter she discovered that the cafe could return you to the past . She thought it was odd that the woman in the dress was always in short sleeves. When she asked, ‘She must be cold, don’t you think?’ Kei explained about the woman in the dress, and how you could return to the past if you sat in that seat.

Hirai replied, ‘You don’t say?’ though it sounded unbelievable to her. But as she didn’t think Kei would tell a lie like that, she let it go for the time being. It was about six months later that the urban legend surrounding the cafe spread and its popularity grew.

But even once Hirai knew about travelling to the past, she never once considered doing so herself. She lived life in the fast lane and had no regrets. And what was the point anyway, she thought, if the rules meant that you couldn’t change the present, no matter how hard you tried?

That was, until Kumi died in a traffic accident.

Amidst the shimmering, Hirai suddenly heard her name being called. When she heard this familiar voice, she opened her eyes with a start. Looking in the direction of the voice, she saw Kei standing there, wearing a wine-red apron. Her big round eyes showed she was surprised to see Hirai. Fusagi was in the cafe, sitting at the table closest to the entrance. It was exactly the scene that Hirai remembered. She had returned to that day – the day when Kumi was still alive.

Hirai felt her heartbeat quicken. She had to relax. The tension felt like cords stretched as far as they would go as she struggled to maintain her fragile composure. She pictured her eyes becoming red and swollen with tears and becoming choked up. That was not at all how she wanted to look when she met Kumi. She placed her hand on her heart, inhaled slowly and deeply to settle herself.

‘Hello…’ she greeted Kei.

Kei was caught by surprise at having someone she knew suddenly appear in that seat. Looking both startled and intrigued, she addressed Hirai as if it was the first time she had had such a visitor.

‘What… You came from the future?’