Before the Coffee Gets Cold (Before the Coffee Gets Cold, #1)

by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

If you could go back, who would you want to meet?

The waitress’s name was Kazu Tokita. Kazu was a cousin of the proprietor. She was waitressing while attending Tokyo University of the Arts. She had quite a pretty face, a pale complexion and narrow almond-shaped eyes, yet her features were not memorable. It was the type of face that if you glanced at it, closed your eyes and then tried to remember what you saw, nothing would come to mind. In a word, she was inconspicuous. She had no presence. She didn’t have many friends either. Not that she worried about it—Kazu was the sort of person who found interpersonal relationships rather tedious.

“When you go back, no matter how hard you try, the present won’t change.”

The first rule was: The only people you can meet while in the past are those who have visited the café. This would usually defeat the purpose of going back. Another rule was: There is nothing you can do while in the past that will change the present.

“You can’t meet people who haven’t visited this café. The present cannot change. There is only one seat that takes you to the past, and you cannot move from it. Then, there is the time limit.”

“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.”

Fusagi had early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, and was losing his memory.

Seven Happinesses earned its name from the claim that those who drank it would obtain seven different kinds of happiness.

The café’s name was Funiculi Funicula.

Water flows from high places to low places. That is the nature of gravity. Emotions also seem to act according to gravity. When in the presence of someone with whom you have a bond, and to whom you have entrusted your feelings, it is hard to lie and get away with it. The truth just wants to come flowing out. This is especially the case when you are trying to hide your sadness or vulnerability. It is much easier to conceal sadness from a stranger, or from someone you don’t trust.

A person who has sat on the chair to travel through time once cannot do it a second time. Each person receives only a single chance.

People don’t see things and hear things as objectively as they might think. The visual and auditory information that enters the mind is distorted by experiences, thoughts, circumstances, wild fancies, prejudices, preferences, knowledge, awareness, and countless other workings of the mind.

The present hadn’t changed—but those two people had. Both Kohtake and Hirai returned to the present with a changed heart.

But Kazu still goes on believing that, no matter what difficulties people face, they will always have the strength to overcome them. It just takes heart. And if the chair can change someone’s heart, it clearly has its purpose.