Everyone was always low energy around this time of day. It was a regular weekday, not very long before sunset. Those with jobs were, of course, still at work, while the homemakers were about to start cooking dinner.
Most cafés would be filled with students on their way home from school, but Café LycoReco’s prices were a bit higher than the chain cafés, so there were never many young customers there, regardless of the time. That allowed for a particularly languid atmosphere in those late afternoon hours.
There were three customers, all of them regulars, who didn’t need any fussing over, which only exacerbated the lethargic mood.
“You can take a break, Takina.”
Takina looked past the counter at the café’s owner, Mika, who was pouring a cup of coffee. He set the steaming cup on the corner of the counter for her.
If Mika had asked Takina if she’d like to have a coffee, she’d refuse, saying she couldn’t during business hours, remaining poised with a tray in her hand in the middle of the store, ready to serve anyone who might come in. Anticipating this, Mika had stopped asking recently and skipped straight to pouring one for her.
Takina would feel bad about leaving the fresh coffee untouched on the counter, with gentle wisps of steam rising from it, and it would feel disrespectful to drink the beverage in its stylish cup while standing. This left her no choice but to sit down. It was a perfectly natural way to start her partially involuntary break. Taking an unscheduled break during her shift would normally rack her with guilt, but this wasn’t her choice, so she didn’t need to blame herself.
Takina took the cup in both hands, its gentle warmth calming her. She touched it to her lips and took a sip. The aroma of the hot coffee rose to her nostrils as the liquid danced on her tongue, and then she swallowed. The slight acidity was soon followed by bitter notes, intensely aromatic and rounded off with a final, gentle sweetness.
Takina moved the cup away from her mouth, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. She remembered that, shortly after coming to LycoReco, she had read in a magazine that the experience of drinking coffee began even before it reached your mouth and ended only when you exhaled after taking a sip. It hadn’t made much sense to her at the time, but now she completely understood what that writer meant.
Inside the café, the air was thick with the refreshing smell of freshly roasted coffee beans, while the outside of the building looked like an old-fashioned, wooden Japanese house that oozed a sense of history. The afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass windows, bathing the interior in soft, warm hues. Even the quiet clinking of cups on saucers—not fancy but tastefully selected—added to the pleasant ambience. And the coffee was not too strong but not weak, imparting just the right amount of bitterness and acidity underscored by a subtle sweetness. It was served neither scalding hot nor lukewarm, but at the optimal drinking temperature, which naturally elicited a single heartfelt conclusion: The coffee was delicious.
It was so comforting that Takina could almost swear that the warm breath she let out after her sip of coffee also carried away all the stress that had accumulated within her body.
The delightful experience began even before drinking the coffee, and its magic lasted long after the sip was taken. The mild flavor and warmth brought with it a unique sense of serenity. Takina closed her eyes, savoring the moment.
Good coffee had the power to flip a switch inside people and make them go from “work mode” to “rest mode” in just a few seconds.
Takina didn’t have to open her eyes to know that Mika was working with incredible efficiency, his movements delightfully elegant. The familiar sounds coming from the kitchen all but confirmed it. As her sense of time began to unravel, Takina was starting to daydream when a loud, cheerful voice interrupted her reverie.
“I felt totally bamboozled!”
“You too, Chisato?”
“Well, yeah! The movie’s over three hours long, so, like, you go in prepared for that, right? The ‘intermission’ screen comes up in the middle, and I think to myself, ‘Okay, looks like there’s going to be a break, so I might just as well go to the bathroom,’ you know?”
“Oh yeah. Absolutely.”
“But the ‘intermission’ was only two seconds. What a cruel joke!”
“Yeah! I was already getting up from my seat, in bathroom mode, and like, what was I supposed to do? It was too late! I had to go! For the first time in like a decade of watching movies, I had to suffer the humiliation of taking a bathroom break right in the middle!”
Takina opened her eyes and looked over at the slightly raised tatami area where Chisato Nishikigi was chatting loudly with three regulars.
“In the country the movie’s from, they apparently have a proper intermission.”
“Whaaat?! How’s that fair?!”
“Someone should complain to the Japanese movie theaters so they leave the break in.”
“But theaters over here need to ensure a high daily turnover of viewers to stay afloat…”
As if she weren’t a waitress at the café but a customer herself, Chisato sat relaxing with Gotou, a gentleman of unknown occupation nearing retirement age; Yoneoka, a writer; and Kitamura, a student. In fact, the three regulars seemed to be entertaining Chisato, not the other way around.
Takina thought she should reprimand her. She was irritated that her quiet coffee time had been ruined. Chisato suddenly turned her head, sensing Takina’s glare.
“Oh, you must be feeling left out, Takina. Come join us!”
“No. I don’t go to the movies anyway.”
Time stopped for Chisato. She froze, her eyes open wide and mouth agape. Takina thought her friend looked like a fish freshly pulled out of water, but within an instant, Chisato recovered. Unbelievably fast, she crawled on all fours off the tatami and across the floor to the counter where Takina was sitting. She grabbed Takina’s ankles, then knees, then hips, and finally shoulders as she pulled herself up until the girls were face-to-face.
Chisato’s bizarre movements made her look like something out of a zombie flick. A chill shot down Takina’s spine. If she had a gun on her, she would’ve reflexively aimed it at Chisato.
“You don’t go to the movies?! Why?!”
Chisato shook Takina by the shoulders violently, like someone desperately trying to get the last drop of a beverage out of an empty can, staring at her in utter disbelief.
“…Chisato!” Mika chided from behind the counter, but she didn’t hear him.