‘Well, maybe,’ Kazu answered, in a manner that suggested she did not fully agree.
‘Hey, Mum, isn’t your coffee going to get cold?’ muttered the boy, who was starting to fidget now his glass of orange juice was empty. His name was Yohsuke Kijima. He was Kyoko’s son, and beginning this spring, he would be in grade four. His hair was mid-length and arranged untidily, he had a sunburnt face and he was wearing a sports strip that read ‘MEITOKU FC’ with the number 9 printed on the back. He was a football nut.
He was talking about the takeaway coffee in the paper bag on the counter beside Kyoko.
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. Grandma hates hot drinks anyway,’ Kyoko said as she moved her face up to Yohsuke’s ear and whispered, ‘Just wait a little longer and we’ll go, OK?’
She glanced over at Gohtaro, anticipating a response of some kind.
Gohtaro was sitting up again, looking recomposed.
‘Yeah, I guess it would freak him out,’ he admitted.
‘Uh huh,’ responded Kyoko, nodding knowingly. While listening to this exchange, Kazu handed Yohsuke a new orange juice, which he silently accepted, with a quick nod of thanks.
‘If it is the honest truth that you can go back in time, then there is something I really want to tell Shuichi.’
Though Kyoko had asked him the question, Gohtaro had answered looking at Kazu. His words had no effect on her expression.
Looking as nonchalant as always, she came out from behind the counter and stood in front of him.
Every now and then, a customer like Gohtaro would come to the cafe after hearing the rumour that you could travel back in time, and the way Kazu responded to each of them never changed.
‘Are you familiar with the rules?’ she asked briefly – there were customers who rolled up at the cafe with no idea of them.
‘More or less…’ he replied hesitantly.
‘More or less?’ Kyoko shouted. Of everyone in the cafe right now, she alone was a little excited. Kazu glanced at Kyoko without comment and then looked back at Gohtaro and stared. Answer the question.
Gohtaro shrugged apologetically. ‘You sit in a chair, someone makes you a coffee, and you return to the past… that’s all I’ve heard,’ he replied awkwardly. His nervousness must have left him dry-mouthed as he reached for the glass in front of him.
‘That’s a bit simplistic… Who’d you hear that from?’ Kyoko quizzed him.
‘From Shuichi.’
‘If you heard it from Shuichi… eh? You mean you heard about it twenty-two years ago?’
‘Yes, when we first came to this cafe, I heard it from Shuichi. He must have known of the legend.’
‘I see…’
‘So, even if a much-older version of me were to suddenly appear, apart from giving Shuichi a fright, I think it would be OK,’ he said, returning to Kyoko’s question.
‘What do you think, Kazu?’
Kyoko spoke as if the right to decide for returning to the past belonged to her and Kazu alone. But Kazu did not comment. Instead, she spoke in a cool, stern manner.
‘You know that even if you return to the past, reality won’t change, right?’
What she meant was, You know you can’t stop your friend from dying!
So many customers had come to the cafe hoping to go back and prevent someone from dying. Each time, Kazu explained this rule.
It wasn’t that she was impervious to the grief that people felt from losing someone precious to them. There was just no getting around this rule – no matter who you were, regardless of your reason.
Having heard Kazu’s words, Gohtaro showed no sign of agitation.
‘I am aware of that,’ he replied in an even-tempered, soft voice.
The doorbell rang. A girl. When Kazu saw her, instead of saying, Hello, welcome, she said, ‘Welcome home!’
The girl’s name was Miki Tokita, daughter of the cafe’s owner, Nagare Tokita. She was proudly bearing a bright red randoseru elementary-school backpack.
‘Moi is back, darlings!’ Miki announced in a voice that reverberated loudly throughout the cafe.
‘Hello, Miki darling! Where did you get that wonderful randoseru?’ Kyoko asked.
‘She bought it for moi!’ Miki said smiling broadly, pointing at Kazu.
‘Wow! It looks fantastic!’ complimented Kyoko.
Kyoko looked at Kazu. ‘Doesn’t school start tomorrow?’ she asked in a quiet whisper.
She didn’t mean to criticize Miki’s conduct, nor did she mean to poke fun at her. In fact, it genuinely brought a smile to her face that Miki was so happy to have received a brand-new randoseru that she had been parading around the neighbourhood with it on her back.
‘Yes, it’s tomorrow,’ Kazu said, also pursing the beginnings of a smile in the corners of her lips.
‘How is Madame Kinuyo? Is she well?’ Miki asked, still carrying on the conversation in a voice loud enough to reverberate through the cafe.
‘Mrs Kinuyo is well! We’ve come into the cafe again today to pick her up another coffee and sandwich made by your daddy,’ Kyoko said while holding up the paper bag holding the takeaway beside her. Sitting on the next stool along, Yohsuke kept his back to Miki, and slowly sipped his second glass of orange juice.
‘Isn’t Mrs Kinuyo tired of eating Daddy’s sandwiches yet? That’s all she’s been eating every day.’
‘Mrs Kinuyo says she loves your daddy’s sandwiches and coffee.’
‘I don’t know why. Daddy’s sandwiches are not that tasty,’ remarked Miki, still in a loud voice.
Overhearing the conversation, a towering figure appeared from the kitchen.
‘Hey, hey! Whose sandwiches did you say were yucky?’ It was Nagare, the cafe’s owner and Miki’s father. Miki’s mother Kei was no longer with them. She had a weak heart and passed away after giving birth to Miki six years ago.
‘Oops-a-daisy, well, darlings, I think moi will go now,’ said Miki in her camp way. She bowed her head to Kyoko and scampered off to the back room.
‘Moi…?’
Kyoko looked at Nagare as if to ask, Where did she learn that?
Nagare shrugged. ‘Beats me.’
Giving a sideways glance at Kyoko and Nagare, Yohsuke started poking at Kyoko’s upper arm.
‘Can we go now?’ he asked, sounding like he was fed up with waiting around.
‘Oh, we were about to go, weren’t we,’ Kyoko said, acknowledging that they should get a move on, and got up from the counter stool.
‘Well, it’s time for moi to go too, darlings,’ Kyoko said, mimicking Miki.
She gave the paper bag to Yohsuke and without looking at a bill, she placed the money for the sandwich and coffee and for Yohsuke’s drink on the counter, including the second orange juice that Kazu poured him.
‘The second orange juice is on the house,’ said Kazu as she took the money from the counter minus the price of the second orange juice and started to press the cash register keys loudly.
‘No, no. I’ll pay.’
‘You don’t pay for what you don’t order. I just gave it to him.’
Kyoko didn’t want to pick up the money remaining on the counter, but Kazu had already put the rest in the till and handed Kyoko a receipt.
‘Oh… OK.’
Kyoko wasn’t comfortable not paying for the drink, but she knew there was no way Kazu was going to accept payment.
‘Well, if you say so,’ she said as she picked up the money for one orange juice from the counter. ‘Thank you.’ She returned the money to her purse.
‘Send my regards to Kinuyo sensei,’ said Kazu, politely bowing to Kyoko.
Kinuyo had taught Kazu painting since she was seven. It was Kinuyo who had encouraged her to study to get into a fine arts university. After graduating, Kazu had begun working part-time at Kinuyo’s painting school. Now Kinuyo was hospitalized, Kazu was teaching all the classes.