Toshikazu Kawaguchi - Before the Coffee Gets Cold

‘I haven’t gone back, have I?’ she muttered. Don’t tell me I’ve been a fool believing this nonsense about returning to the past.

Just as she was showing signs of falling apart, Kazu appeared next to her carrying a silver tray, upon which was a silver kettle and a white coffee cup.

‘I haven’t gone back yet,’ Fumiko blurted out.

Kazu’s expression was deadpan as always. ‘There is one more rule,’ she said coolly.

Damn! There was another one. It would take more than simply sitting in the chair.

Fumiko was beginning to get fed up. ‘There are still more rules?’ she said, yet at the same time, she felt relieved. It meant that going back to the past was still on the cards.

Kazu continued her explanation without showing the slightest interest in how Fumiko was feeling. ‘In a moment, I am going to pour you a cup of coffee,’ she said as she set a cup in front of Fumiko.

‘Coffee? Why coffee?’

‘Your time in the past will begin from the time the coffee is poured…’ Kazu said, ignoring the question from Fumiko, who was nevertheless reassured by the news it would be happening soon. ‘And you must return before the coffee goes cold.’

Fumiko’s confidence vanished in a flash. ‘What? That soon?’

‘The last and the most important rule…’

The talking never ends. Fumiko was itching to go. ‘Too many rules…’ she muttered as she gripped the coffee cup placed before her. The vessel was quite unremarkable: just a cup which had not yet had coffee poured into it. But she thought it felt noticeably cooler than the usual porcelain.

‘Are you listening?’ Kazu continued. ‘When you return to the past, you must drink the entire cup before the coffee goes cold.’

‘Uh. I don’t actually like coffee that much.’

Kazu opened her eyes wider and brought her face an inch or so from the tip of Fumiko’s nose.

‘This is the one rule you have to absolutely obey,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Really?’

‘If you don’t, something terrible will happen to you…’

‘Wh-what?’

Fumiko felt uneasy. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been expecting something like this. Travelling in time meant violating the laws of nature – which obviously entails risk. But she couldn’t believe the timing of Kazu’s announcement. A sinkhole had just opened up on the final strait to the finish line. Not that she was going to get cold feet – not after she had come this far. She looked apprehensively into Kazu’s eyes.

‘What? What will happen?’

‘If you don’t drink all the coffee before it gets cold…’

‘… If I don’t drink the coffee?’

‘It will be your turn to be the ghost sitting in this seat.’

A bolt of lightning went off inside Fumiko’s head. ‘Seriously?’

‘The woman who was sitting there just now…’

‘Broke that rule?’

‘Yes. She had gone to meet her dead husband. She must have lost track of the time. When she finally noticed, the coffee had gone cold.’

‘… and she became a ghost?’

‘Yes.’

This is riskier than I imagined , Fumiko thought. There were lots of annoying rules. To have met a ghost and to have been cursed was extraordinary. But now the stakes were even higher.

OK, I can return to the past. Yet, I only have until just before my coffee goes cold. I have no idea how long it takes for a hot coffee to go cold – it’s not going to be that long, though. At least it will be long enough to drink my coffee, even if it tastes awful. So, I don’t have to worry about that. But say I don’t drink it, and I turn into a ghost – that’s pretty worrying. Now let’s assume I am not going to change the present by going back to the past, no matter how much I try – there’s no risk there… There are probably no pluses, but there are no minuses either.

Turning into a ghost, on the other hand, is a definite minus.

Fumiko felt herself wavering. She was assailed by countless worries – the most immediate of which was that the coffee that Kazu poured would be revolting. She felt she should be able to handle the taste of coffee. But what if it is really peppery? What if it is wasabi-flavoured coffee? How could I possibly drink an entire cup of that?

Realizing her thoughts were becoming paranoid, she shook her head to try to dispel the wave of anxiety that had come over her.

‘Fine. I just have to drink the coffee before it goes cold, right?’

‘Yes.’

Her mind was made up. Or, more accurately, a stubborn resolve had taken root.

Kazu just stood there impassively. Fumiko could imagine that if she had instead told her, Sorry, I can’t go through with this , her reaction would have been the same. She briefly closed her eyes, placed her clenched fists on her lap, and drew in a deep breath through her nostrils as if trying to centre herself.

‘I’m ready,’ she announced. She looked Kazu in the eye. ‘Please pour the coffee.’

Giving a small nod, Kazu picked up the silver kettle from the tray with her right hand. She looked at Fumiko demurely. ‘Just remember. Drink the coffee before it goes cold,’ she whispered.

Kazu began to pour the coffee into the cup. She gave off an air of nonchalance, but her fluid and graceful movements made Fumiko feel like she was observing an ancient ceremony.

Just as Fumiko noticed the shimmering steam rising from the coffee that filled the cup, everything around the table also began to curl up and become indistinguishable from the swirling vapour. She began to feel fear and closed her eyes. The sensation that she was shimmering and becoming distorted, like the rising steam, became even more powerful. She clenched her fists tighter. If this continues, I won’t find myself in the present or past; I’ll simply vanish in a wisp of smoke. As this anxiety engulfed her, she brought to mind the first time she met Goro.

Fumiko first met Goro two years ago, in the spring. She was twenty-six, three years older than him, and stationed at a client company. Goro had been posted to the same place, but worked for another company. Fumiko was the project director and in charge of all visiting employees.

Fumiko never held back if she had something critical to say, even if it was to a superior. She had even gone as far as to get into arguments with senior colleagues. But no one ever spoke critically of her. She was always honest and direct, and her willingness to spare no effort in her work was well admired.

Although Goro was three years her junior, he gave the impression of someone in their thirties. To be blunt, he looked much older than he was. At first Fumiko had felt junior to him and spoke to him in a polite manner accordingly. Furthermore, even though Goro was the youngest in the team, he was the most competent. He was a highly skilled engineer who went about his work silently, and Fumiko saw she could depend on him.

The project Fumiko was leading was almost finished. But just before the delivery date, a serious bug was discovered. There was an error or flaw in the program, and when programming for medical systems, even seemingly trivial bugs are serious. Delivery of the system in this state was impossible. But finding the cause of a bug is like distilling and removing a drop of ink that has fallen in a twenty-five-metre swimming pool. Not only were they facing a daunting and enormous task, they didn’t have enough time to do it.

As she was the project director, the responsibility to fulfil the conditions of delivery fell on her shoulders. Delivery was due in one week. As the general consensus was that it would take at least a month to fix the bug, everyone was resigned to missing the deadline. Fumiko thought she would have to tender her resignation. Amid this turmoil, Goro disappeared from the project worksite without telling anyone, and no one could get hold of him. One snide comment led to another and soon everyone suspected that the bug was his fault. People speculated that he must be feeling so ashamed that he couldn’t show his face.