clang-dong

“They were rather odd,” Fumiko muttered.

Kazu cleared the table where Fusagi had sat and disappeared once more into the kitchen.

The sudden appearance of a rival had upset Fumiko, but now that only she and the woman in the dress remained, she felt sure that victory would be hers.

Right, the competition’s gone. Now I just need to wait for her to vacate the seat , she thought. Yet the café had no windows and the three wall clocks each showed different times. Without customers coming and going, her sense of time was becoming frozen.

Starting to doze off a little, she reeled off the rules for returning to the past.

The first rule— the only people one may meet while back in the past are those who have visited the café . Fumiko’s parting conversation with Goro just happened to have taken place in this café.

The second rule— no matter how hard one tries while back in the past, one cannot change the present . In other words, even if Fumiko returned to that day one week earlier and pleaded for Goro not to go, the fact that he had left for America would not change. She didn’t understand why it should be so, and she could feel herself getting upset again thinking about it. But, resigned, she accepted it, given it was the rule.

The third rule— in order to return to the past, you have to sit in that seat and that seat alone . This was the seat occupied by the woman in the dress. If you try to sit there by force, you get cursed.

The fourth rule— while back in the past, you must stay in the seat and never move from it . In other words, for some reason or other, you couldn’t go to the bathroom while back in the past.

The fifth rule— there is a time limit . Now that she thought about it, Fumiko still hadn’t been told the details of this one. She had no idea how long or short this time was. Fumiko thought about these rules over and over. Her thoughts went back and forth. She went from thinking that going back in time was going to be rather pointless to thinking that she may as well take charge of that conversation and say everything she wanted to—after all, it couldn’t hurt, could it, if it was not going to change the present? Fumiko went over each rule again and again until finally, slumped on the table, she drifted off to sleep.

The first time Fumiko learned of Goro’s dream future was when she dragged him out on their third date. Goro was a gaming geek. He loved those MMORPG (massively multi-player online role-playing games), which he played on a PC. His uncle was one of the developers of an MMORPG called Arm of Magic— a game that was popular around the world. Ever since he was a boy, Goro had looked up to his uncle. It was Goro’s dream to join the game company his uncle ran: TIP-G. To qualify for the selection exam for TIP-G, it was mandatory to have two things: (1) at least five years’ experience working as a systems engineer in the medical industry, and (2) a new unreleased game program that you had personally developed. Human lives depend on the reliability of systems in the medical industry and bugs are not tolerated. In the online gaming industry, on the other hand, people put up with bugs, as it’s possible to apply updates even after the release.

TIP-G was different. It only recruited candidates with experience in the medical industry to ensure that only the best programmers were hired. When Goro was telling Fumiko about this, she thought it was a wonderful dream. But what she didn’t know was that TIP-G had its headquarters in America.

On their seventh date, Fumiko was waiting for Goro to arrive at their meeting point when a couple of men started talking to her. They were chatting her up. They were good-looking, but she was not interested. Men were always trying to pick her up and so she had developed a technique for dealing with this. Before she could put it to use, Goro arrived and stood there, looking uncomfortable. Fumiko rushed up to him, but the two men reacted, sneered at Goro, and asked her why she was with that dweeb . She had no choice but to begin her spiel.

Goro lowered his head and didn’t say anything. But she faced the two men and said (in English), “You guys don’t know his appeal,” (in Russian) “He’s brave enough to take on difficult tasks at work,” (in French) “He has the mental discipline not to give up,” (in Greek) “He has the skill to render the impossible possible,” (in Italian) “I also know he has put in extraordinary effort to be able to gain this ability,” (and in Spanish) “His appeal is far greater than any other man I know.” Then in Japanese, she said, “If you understood what I just said, I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you.”

Visibly stunned, the two men at first stood motionless.

Then they looked at each other, and moved on awkwardly.

Fumiko smiled broadly at Goro. “Naturally, I suppose you understood everything I said,” she said, this time in Portuguese.

Showing his embarrassment, Goro gave a small nod.

On the tenth date, Goro confessed that he had never been in a relationship with a woman before.

“Oh, so I’m the first woman who you’ve gone out with,” Fumiko said happily. It was the first time she had confirmed that they were actually an item, and Goro’s eyes widened at the news.

You could say that night marked the start of their relationship.

Fumiko had been asleep for a while now. Suddenly, the woman in the dress slammed shut the book she was reading and sighed. After pulling out a white handkerchief from her handbag, she slowly stood up, and began walking toward the bathroom.

Still asleep, Fumiko hadn’t noticed that she had left. Kazu appeared from the back room. She was still wearing her uniform: a white shirt, black bow tie, waistcoat, black trousers, and an apron. While she was clearing the table, she called out to Fumiko.

“Madam. Madam.”

“What? Yes?” Fumiko sat bolt upright in surprise. She blinked her eyes and looked around the café until finally she spotted the change.

The woman in the dress was gone. “Oh!”

“The seat is free now. Do you wish to sit there?”

“Of course I do!” Fumiko said.

She got up in a hurry and walked over to the seat that promised to transport her to the past. It looked like a normal chair, nothing out of the ordinary about it. As she stood there, staring at it with intense desire, her heartbeat quickened. Finally, after getting over all the rules and the curse, she had her ticket to the past.

“Okay, now take me back in time by one week.”

Fumiko took a deep breath. She calmed her racing heart and carefully squeezed into the gap between the chair and the table. She had it in her mind that she would travel back to a week ago as soon as her bottom landed on the seat, so her nervousness and excitement were reaching peak levels. She sat down so forcefully, she almost bounced back up again.

“Okay. Go back one week!” she exclaimed.

Her heart swelled in anticipation. She looked around the café. As there were no windows, there was no way of telling night from day. The three old wall clocks with their hands pointing in different directions didn’t tell her the time. But something must have changed. She looked desperately around the café, searching for a sign that she had gone back. But she couldn’t spot a single difference. If she had returned to a week earlier, Goro would be there—but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen...

“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 in 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.”

“Um, 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. Traveling 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 stretch 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.

Okay, 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 center 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 vapor. 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 an Olympic 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 fulfill 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.

Of course, there was nothing concrete to suggest that it had been his mistake. It was simply that if the project was going to be liable for a big loss, it was convenient for it to be someone’s fault. As he was the one who was missing, he became the scapegoat, and naturally Fumiko was among those who suspected him. But on the fourth day of no contact, he suddenly appeared with the news that he had found the bug.

He hadn’t shaved, and he didn’t smell very nice, but no one even considered giving him a hard time for that. Judging by his exhausted face, he probably hadn’t even slept. While every other member of the team, including Fumiko, had decided it was too difficult and simply given up, Goro had succeeded in solving the problem. It was nothing less than a miracle. By taking leave without permission and not contacting anyone about it, he had violated basic rules that applied to any company employee. Yet he had demonstrated a commitment to his work that was greater than anyone else’s, and he had succeeded as a programmer where no one else could.

After Fumiko expressed her heartfelt gratitude and apologized for thinking even for an instant that it was his mistake, Goro simply smiled as she bowed her head.

“All right then, perhaps you could buy me a coffee?” he said .

That was the moment Fumiko fell in love.

After successfully delivering the system, their new postings were at different companies, and she hardly saw him. But she believed in getting things done. Whenever she could spare the time, she would take him to different places, each time on the pretext of buying him a coffee.

Goro’s approach to work was obsessive. When he started working toward a goal, he wouldn’t see anything else. Fumiko first learned that TIP-G had its headquarters in America when she visited his home. He talked so enthusiastically about working for TIP-G, and it made her worry. When his dream comes true, which will he choose: his dream or me? I mustn’t think like that, there’s no comparison. But gosh...

Then, little by little, it became clearer to her how big a loss it would be. She could no longer bring herself to try to ascertain how he felt about her. Time passed, and that spring, he finally got an offer to work at TIP-G. His dream had come true. Fumiko’s anxiety was justified. Goro had chosen to go to America. He had chosen his dream. She had learned this a week ago, at this café. Now she opened her eyes feeling disorientated, as if waking from a dream of her own.

The sensation that she was a spirit, shimmering and swirling like steam, now left her, and she began to regain awareness of her limbs. In a panic, she felt her body and face, to make sure it was herself who had appeared. When she came to her senses, a man was there before her, watching her strange behavior, puzzled.

It was Goro, unless she was mistaken. Goro, who was meant to be in America, was there before her eyes. She really had returned to the past. She understood the puzzlement on his face. There was no doubt that she had returned to a week ago. The inside of the café was just how she remembered it.

The man called Fusagi had a magazine spread out on the table closest to the door. Hirai was sitting at the counter, and Kazu was there. And opposite her was Goro, at the same table where they had been. But just one thing was wrong—the seat in which Fumiko sat.

A week ago, she had been sitting facing Goro. Now, however, she was in the seat of the woman in the dress. She was still facing Goro, but they were now one table apart. He’s so far away. His puzzled look was completely justified.

But unnatural or not, she couldn’t leave her seat. That was one of the rules. But what if he asks why I am sitting here? What should I say? Fumiko gulped at the thought.

“Oh gosh, is that the time? Sorry, I have to go.”

Goro may have looked perplexed, but despite their now unnatural seating positions, he had said the exact words she had heard a week ago. This must be an unspoken rule when traveling back to the past , she thought.

“Ah, that’s okay. That’s okay. You don’t have any more time, do you? I don’t have much time either.”

“What?”

“Sorry.”

They weren’t on the same page and the conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Although she knew the moment she had returned to, Fumiko was still confused—it was, after all, the first time she had returned to the past.

To give herself time to settle, she took a sip of the coffee while looking up from under her brows to observe Goro’s expression.

Oh no! The coffee is already lukewarm! It will be cold in no time!

Fumiko was dismayed. At this temperature, she could already have gulped it down. This was an unexpected setback. She scowled at Kazu. She hated the way Kazu permanently wore such a deadpan expression. But that was not all...

“Ugh... So bitter.”

The taste was even bitterer than she had anticipated. It was the bitterest coffee she had ever drunk. Goro looked confused at hearing Fumiko’s strange utterance.

Rubbing above his right eyebrow, Goro looked at his watch. He was worried about the time. Fumiko understood that. She was in a hurry too.

“Um... I have something important to say,” she said hurriedly.

Fumiko shoveled sugar into her cup from the sugar pot placed in front of her. Then, after adding a fair amount of milk, she clinked and clanged her cup with her spoon with her vigorous stirring.

“What?” Goro frowned.

Fumiko wasn’t sure if the frown was because she was adding too much sugar, or because he didn’t want to talk about anything important just then.

“What I mean is... I want to talk about this properly.” Goro looked at his watch.

“Hang on a sec...” Fumiko took a sip of the coffee that she had sweetened. She nodded in approval. She hadn’t drunk coffee until she met Goro. It had been the pretext of buying him a coffee that led to their dates. The curious sight of Fumiko, who hated coffee, frantically adding a tremendous amount of sugar and milk earned her a wry smile from Goro.

“Hey, this is a serious situation, and you’re just smirking at me drinking coffee.”

“No I’m not.”

“You blatantly are! You can’t deny it, I can tell by looking at your face.”

Fumiko regretted interrupting the flow of the conversation. She had gone to the effort of returning to the past, and now it was going the same way as a week earlier. She was again chasing him away with her childish talk.

Goro got up from his seat, looking agitated. He called to Kazu behind the counter.

“Excuse me... How much, please?” He reached for the bill.

Fumiko knew that if she didn’t do something, Goro would pay and then leave. “Wait!”

“It’s fine, let’s leave it at that.”

“This isn’t what I came to say.”

“What?”

Don’t go.

“Why didn’t you talk about it with me?”

I don’t want you to go.

“Well, that’s...”

“I know how much your work means to you. I don’t necessarily mind if you go to America. I won’t stand in the way.”

I thought we were going to be together forever. “ But, at least...”

Was it only me thinking that ?

“I wanted you to discuss it with me. You know, it’s pretty despicable just deciding without talking about it...”

I really, truly...

“ That’s just...well, you know...”

...loved you.

“It made me feel forgotten. What I wanted to say was...”

Not that it’s going to change anything...

“ Well... I just wanted to say that.”

Fumiko had planned to speak honestly—after all, it wouldn’t change the present. But she couldn’t say it. She felt that saying it would be to admit defeat. She would have hated herself for saying anything like, Which do you choose—work or me? Until she had met Goro, she had always put work first. It was the last thing that she wanted to say. She also didn’t want to be talking like a parody of a woman, especially to a boyfriend three years her junior—she had her pride. She also was perhaps jealous that his career had overtaken her own. So she hadn’t spoken honestly. Anyhow...it was too late.

“Fine then, go... Whatever... It’s not as if anything I say will stop you going to America.”

After saying this, Fumiko gulped down the rest of her coffee. “Whoa.”

When the cup was empty, the dizziness started again. She was once more swallowed up by a wavering and shimmering world.

She began pondering. What did I come back for, exactly?

“I never thought that I was the right man for you. ”

She didn’t know why Goro would be saying this.

“When you invited me for coffee,” he continued, “I always said to myself that I mustn’t fall for you...”

“What?”

“Because I have this...” He ran his fingers through his fringe, which had been combed down to cover the right side of his forehead. He revealed the large burn scar that spread from his right eyebrow to his right ear. “Before I met you, I always thought women found me repulsive, and I couldn’t even talk to them.”

“I...”

“Even after we had started dating.”

“ It never even bothered me!” shouted Fumiko, but she had become one with the vapor and her words didn’t reach him.

“I thought that it was only a matter of time before you started liking other, better-looking guys.”

Never... How can you think that!

“I always thought that...”