Toshikazu Kawaguchi - Before the Coffee Gets Cold

Hirai tried in vain to fix her tear-stained face. She let out a big sigh. ‘I’m not sure they will welcome me back with open arms. And I wouldn’t have a clue how to do the work…’ she continued, looking down at Kumi’s final letter in her hands. ‘If I went back like this… it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?’

It seemed that Hirai planned to return to Takakura immediately. Leaving the bar and everything else, just going. It was typical of Hirai to decide on something without feeling the need to think things over first. She had made up her mind and her face showed no trace of doubt.

Kei nodded reassuringly.

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ she answered cheerfully. She didn’t ask Hirai what had happened in the past. She didn’t need to. Hirai took out 380 yen from her purse to pay for the coffee. She gave it to Nagare and walked out of the cafe, light on her feet.

Kei had walked out with Hirai to see her off. Now, she rubbed her stomach gently, and whispered, ‘How wonderful was that…’

While Nagare was entering the coffee money into the cash register, he looked solemnly at Kei rubbing her stomach in that way.

I wonder if she can give it up?

Without Nagare’s expression changing, the bell echoed throughout the cafe.

Clang… Dong…

When it appears in haiku, the higurashi cicada is a term denoting the season, associated with autumn. The mention of the higurashi , therefore, evokes an image of it shrilling at the end of summer. In reality, this insect’s cry can be heard from the beginning of summer. Somehow, though, while the shrills of the abura cicada and the min-min cicada evoke the images of a blazing sun, midsummer, and scorching days, the song of the higurashi evokes images of the evening and the late summer. When the sun begins to set and the dusk gathers, the kana-kana-kana of the higurashi evokes a melancholic mood, and one gets the urge to hurry home.

In the city, the shrill of the higurashi is seldom heard. This is because, unlike the abura cicada and the min-min cicada, the higurashi likes shady places such as the canopy of a forest, or of cypress groves away from the sun. But living near our cafe was a single higurashi cicada. When the sun started to set, a continual kana-kana-kana could be heard coming from somewhere, shrilling fleetingly and weakly. This was sometimes audible in the cafe, though as the cafe was at basement level, you had to strain your ears to hear it – it was that faint.

It was one such August evening. Outside, the abura cicada was loudly shrilling, jee jee jee . The weather office had reported that this day had been the hottest of the year. But in the cafe, it was cool despite the lack of air conditioning. Kazu was reading an email that Hirai had sent to Nagare’s phone.

I have been back at Takakura for two weeks now. There are so many new things to learn. Every day I am nearly reduced to tears, it’s so tough.

‘Oh, she does have it tough…’

Listening to Kazu were Kohtake and Nagare. As neither Kazu nor Kei had a phone, it was Nagare’s phone that received all emails sent to the cafe. Kazu didn’t have a phone because she was not very good at maintaining personal relationships, and saw phones and means of communication as nothing more than a nuisance. Kei didn’t have a phone because she cancelled it when she got married. ‘ One phone is enough for a married couple ,’ she said. In contrast, Hirai had three phones, each for a particular purpose: for customers, for private, and for family. On her family phone, she had saved only her family home number, and her sister Kumi’s number. Although no one from the cafe knew it, now she had added two extra contacts in her phone reserved for family: the cafe and Nagare’s mobile. Kazu continued to read out the email.

Things are still a bit awkward with my parents, but I feel returning home was for the best. I just think that if Kumi’s death had led to unhappiness for both me and my parents, then that unhappiness would have been her only legacy.

So that’s why I intend to lead a life that creates a more wonderful legacy for Kumi’s life. I guess you never thought I could be so serious.

So anyway, I’m happy and well. If you get a chance please come and visit. Although it’s already come and gone this year, I highly recommend the Tanabata Festival. Please send my regards to everyone.

Nagare, listening at the entrance to the kitchen with his arms folded, narrowed his eyes even more than usual. He was probably smiling – it was always difficult to know when he was smiling.

‘Oh, isn’t that wonderful,’ Kohtake said, smiling happily. She must have been on a break between shifts as she was wearing her nurse’s uniform. ‘Hey, check out the photo,’ Kazu said, showing Kohtake the photo attached to the email. Kohtake took the phone in her hands so that she could get a good look.

‘Wow, she already looks the part… for sure,’ she said, with a hint of surprise.

‘Doesn’t she!’ Kazu agreed, smiling.

In the photo, Hirai was standing in front of the inn. With her hair in a bun, she was wearing a pink kimono, indicating her status as the owner of Takakura.

‘She looks happy.’

‘She does.’

Hirai was smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world. She had written that things were still awkward between her and her parents but standing next to her were her father Yasuo and mother Michiko.

‘And Kumi too…’ muttered Nagare, peering at the photo from behind.

‘Kumi’s no doubt happy as well.’

‘Yes, I’m sure she is,’ Kohtake said, looking at the photo. Kazu standing beside her also gave a small nod. She no longer had the cool demeanour she had while conducting the ritual for returning to the past. Her face was gentle and kind.

‘By the way,’ Kohtake said as she returned the phone to Kazu. She turned and looked over dubiously to where the woman in the dress was sitting. ‘What’s she doing over there?’

It was not the woman in the dress she was looking at, but Fumiko Kiyokawa, who was sitting on the chair opposite her. It was Fumiko who had travelled back to the past in the cafe that spring. Normally the epitome of a working woman, today must have been her day off as she was dressed casually in a black T-shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves and white leggings. On her feet were cord sandals.

Fumiko had showed no interest in Hirai’s email. Instead, she was staring at the face of the woman in the dress. Just what she wanted was a mystery. Kazu had no idea either.

‘I wonder too,’ was all that Kazu could reply.

Since spring, Fumiko had occasionally visited the cafe. When she did, she sat there opposite the woman in the dress.

Suddenly Fumiko looked at Kazu. ‘Um, excuse me,’ she said.

‘Yes?’

‘There is something that’s been bothering me.’

‘What is it?’

‘This whole thing, where you get transported through time. Could you visit the future too?’

‘The future?’

‘Yes, the future.’

Hearing Fumiko’s question, Kohtake’s curiosity was piqued. ‘Yes, I’d be interested to know that too.’

‘I know, right?!’ Fumiko agreed.

‘Going back to the past or going to the future are both about being able to travel through time. So I thought maybe it’s possible?’ Fumiko continued.

Kohtake nodded in agreement.

‘So is it possible?’ Fumiko asked with eyes full of expectation and curiosity.

‘Yeah, of course you can go to the future,’ Kazu bluntly replied.