The rain had finally stopped during the night, leaving behind a world that was clean and shining, and the lake reflected the sky so precisely that it was difficult to tell where water ended and heaven began.
Jun stood at the window for a long time, simply watching the light shift and change as the sun rose higher, and he felt a quiet anticipation building in his chest.
The sixth day's morning arrived with a clarity that felt almost like a gift.
It would be different today since he would actually open the cafe.
The past few days had been devoted to construction, education, and exploration, transforming an empty building into a seemingly vibrant space. But a cafe needed more than just a building, a bar, and a few pieces of furniture; it also needed people.
It needed the direct exchange of goods and services, the warmth of interpersonal relationships, and the small acts of kindness that created a sense of community.
Examining what he had and what he still needed, Jun strolled around the main floor. The espresso machine was shining, the bar was operational, and the shelves were stocked with simple yet tasteful bowls, plates, and cups.
The table he had constructed was in front of the window. Since then, he has added two more tables, all of which were constructed with the same attention to detail and care as the first, but there were obvious gaps.
The cafe needed chairs, real chairs that people could sit in comfortably for more than a few minutes. It needed lighting that would make the space feel warm and inviting, not just functional.
It needed decorations, small touches that would make the space feel like a home rather than a waiting room.
It also needed a sign, something that would tell people who passed by that this place was open for business.
Jun launched the grocery app and started looking more critically at the furniture section.
He spent almost an hour simply scrolling through the options in the enormous, nearly overwhelming catalog in an attempt to determine what would be best for the space.
From sleek modern designs to rustic wooden pieces that appeared to have been salvaged from an old farmhouse, there were chairs in every conceivable style.
He chose a set of eight sturdy, uncomplicated chairs with warm grey fabric cushions and dark wood construction. Although they were pricey and exceeded his budget, he sensed that they were appropriate for the area.
They arrived in the basement with a gentle chime after he bought them. He descended the stairs and discovered the big, heavy crate containing the chairs he had ordered waiting for him.
One by one, he carried them up and arranged them around the tables until the room started to feel like a place where people might want to sit.
Additionally, he purchased three lamps with warm amber glass that would softly illuminate the space at night.
He bought a woven rug for the center of the main floor in shades of blue and grey that complemented the colors of the lake outside, followed by a small collection of plants, such as ferns, succulents, and a flowering vine that would hang over the edge of a shelf and add some greenery to the space.
Every delivery that came into the basement gave the cafe a sense of completion. The plants brought a subtle vitality that made the room feel alive, the chairs were cozy, and the lamps provided a cozy glow.
As he stood in the center of the main floor and surveyed his surroundings, Jun felt a sense of quiet satisfaction that was unlike anything he had ever known. This was his vision, his creation, the result of his hard work. It was lovely, and he had built it with his hands and his heart.
However, there was still something lacking. The cafe required a sign. A genuine sign that would inform everyone that this location was open for business and welcoming to everyone who came in.
He considered creating one himself, carving the words into wood with his expertise in carpentry. The idea of making something that would hang above the door and declare his presence to the world was appealing to him. He wanted the sign to be flawless, something that would honor his grandfather's legacy, but he lacked the necessary materials.
He opened the app and searched for a custom sign maker, and he found a service that would create a hand-painted wooden sign in any style he wanted.
He uploaded the design he had sketched in his notebook, which included a small picture of a coffee cup and a sleeping cat along with the words "Sazanami" in elegant script.
The app informed him that the sign would be delivered in two days after the order was confirmed. The feeling that something significant was going to happen gave Jun a rush of excitement.
...
The afternoon was filled with minor chores. He swept the floor, cleaned the windows until they shone, arranged the cups and plates on the shelves, and polished the espresso machine until it shone.
He ground and stored fresh coffee beans in airtight containers. He prepared the ingredients for the simple dishes he planned to serve by slicing vegetables, measuring flour, and reserving butter and cream.
The cafe was ready as the sun began to set.
Standing at the bar, Jun gazed out at the deserted space, with the chairs neatly arranged around the tables, the lamps illuminating the polished wood with a warm glow, and the plants bringing their peaceful green life to the corners. It was empty, flawless, and everything he had imagined it could be.
He made an effort to ignore the emptiness. He reminded himself that it was the first day. This location was unknown at the time.
Nobody was aware of its existence, that it was open for business, or that there was a young man inside who was excited to provide them with warm food, excellent coffee, and a place to relax.
He would need to find a way to let the locals know that "Sazanami" was here and ready to welcome them.
As he continued to consider this, a woman emerged in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the last of the sun's light. She was elderly, possibly in her seventies, with a small dog on a leash by her side and silver hair pulled back in a tidy bun.
Startled, Jun looked up, and the woman grinned at him.
"Oh," she uttered in a soft, kind voice. "You're available. I didn't know if anyone had arrived yet.
Jun discovered his voice. "We're available. Come in, please.
The dog trotted beside the woman as she entered, sniffing at the rug's edges. With a look of pleasant surprise, she surveyed the room, taking in the tables, chairs, and bar with its shiny espresso machine.
"This is lovely," she remarked. "Very beautiful. Your grandfather would be extremely pleased.
A knot appeared in Jun's throat. "You knew my grandfather?"
The woman grinned more broadly. "Your grandfather was well-known to everyone in Mizumi-cho. He was an amazing man. Kind. Giving. On chilly afternoons, he would make me tea and listen to my tales about my grandchildren."
The dog curled up at her feet as she took a seat in one of the chairs. "I'm Mrs. Tanaka," she introduced herself. "I'm right next door. I decided to check if anyone was present after noticing that the lights were on."
Jun went over to the bar. Do you want a cup of tea? Coffee? I can provide a couple of things.
"Tea would be lovely," Mrs. Tanaka remarked. "Your grandfather used honey to make it every time. It was his secret, he claimed."
With a nod, Jun made the tea using a mixture of black tea and a small amount of honey that he had discovered on the app. He brought a small plate of the honey cake he had prepared the day before to Mrs. Tanaka's table, and the aroma that emanated from the cup was cozy and reassuring.
She closed her eyes and took a sip. "Oh my. This is exactly the same as his.
A feeling of warmth coursed through Jun's chest. "I inherited his recipes from him. I've been studying them."
Mrs. Tanaka opened her eyes and gave him a knowing yet compassionate look. "He said you would come every time."
He always said, "You'll find your way here. I didn't trust him at first, but he kept his word with such assurance."
She sighed contentedly and took another sip of her tea. "You are aware of how much he loved you. He was always talking about you. He was never able to meet the grandson. He was reserving this space for his grandson."
Suddenly overcome by the weight of her words, Jun took a seat across from her. "I never knew him," he remarked. "He was gone before I was born."
Mrs. Tanaka gave a slow nod. However, he was familiar with you. From somewhere, he observed you. He once told me that he could see you, that he could sense your suffering, your struggle, and your loneliness.
He declared that he would take action, even if it meant losing everything.
She grabbed his hand from across the table. "Dear, he saved you. You have this life and this opportunity because of him. Don't waste it, then."
For a long time, Jun sat with Mrs. Tanaka's hand in his, feeling a connection to his grandfather that was stronger than anything he had ever experienced.
"I won't," he muttered. "I promise."
With a smile, Mrs. Tanaka let go of his hand. "Excellent. Tell me about this cake now. It has a lovely scent."
...
The evening went by in a cozy blur of small gestures and conversation. For almost two hours, Mrs. Tanaka stayed, eating cake, drinking tea, and telling Jun stories about his grandfather that made him laugh, cry, and feel as though he was finally getting to know the man who had given him everything for this second life.
She described to him the day Haruki, a young man with nothing but a dream and the love of a woman who had believed in him, had arrived in Mizumi-cho.
She told him about the cafe he had created, the neighborhood he had fostered, and the lives his cooking and kindness had impacted.
She described to him the calm day of Haruki's death, when he was surrounded by his loved ones. She said he had whispered a name and grinned. He had closed his eyes and gone to join the woman he had loved after whispering Jun's name.
"He was thinking of you," Mrs. Tanaka remarked. "At the very end, he was thinking of you."
Jun was at a loss for words. He simply sat there, allowing himself to feel the warm blanket of his grandfather's love bearing down on him. Everything. The thankfulness, the sorrow, and the overpowering feeling of being desired by a stranger.
Jun was surprised to feel a twinge of loneliness when Mrs. Tanaka finally got up to go, the dog stretching and stirring at her feet with a little yelp.
"Will you return?" he inquired.
Mrs. Tanaka grinned. "If you'll have me, every day. Your grandfather's cafe is the greatest place in town to spend time when I'm old and have nothing else to do."
Jun watched her leave, the dog trotting beside her like a devoted friend, as she patted his arm and headed for the door. At the threshold, she stopped and turned back to face him.
She said, "Oh, and Jun?" "You know, there are more of us. Those who were waiting for you because they loved your grandfather. We'll be here, and we always will be."
Then she vanished, leaving Jun by herself once more, standing in the center of the cafe while the aroma of tea and honey cake continued to permeate the space.
He pondered over what she had said for a considerable amount of time. More of them. Those who had known his grandfather, loved him, grieved for him, and anticipated the arrival of the grandson he had promised.
He wasn't by himself. He had never been by himself. Around this location, his grandfather had created a network of people who would greet him, encourage him, and assist him in creating the life he was destined to lead.
Jun went to the bar, got a fresh shot of espresso, and drank it while standing by the window and watching the town's lights come to life over the pitch-black water.
The world was calm, serene, and full of possibilities, and the lake was now a sheet of black glass with stars reflected on it like diamonds.
He took out his notebook and wrote:
"The sixth day. first client. Tanaka, Mrs. Grandfather was someone she knew. She told me tales about him. He cherished me. He genuinely cherished me.
"There are others," she said. those who are anticipating my arrival. I'm not by myself.
"The cafe is prepared. In two days, the sign will be delivered. I'll start letting people know that I'm open tomorrow."
A quiet excitement began to build in his chest as he closed the notebook and gazed out at the lake. This marked the start. This marked the beginning of something fresh, lovely, and promising.
He smiled as he went to bed.
...
Jun made a choice the following morning. He would make contact with the locals and inform them that Café Izanami was open for business and prepared to serve them.
He printed a brief sign with the straightforward words "Open for Business" on paper and taped it to the door.
Simple meals, tea, and coffee. Everyone is welcome.
Additionally, he strolled through the neighborhood, making introductions to the locals and business owners who were out and about in the early morning.
A young man with flour on his apron and a happy smile was a baker who had just opened for business.
He was surprised to receive a warm embrace from the woman who owned the small grocery store a few blocks away.
He was waved over by two old men who were sitting on a bench by the lake and asked if he was the grandson that Haruki had always mentioned.
He felt more a part of the community than he had ever felt in his previous life, and by the time he got back to the cafe, his cheeks were hurting from smiling.
Jun spent the leisurely morning getting the cafe ready for the day. He made fresh coffee, baked some honey cake, and set up the tables and chairs to create a welcoming and cozy atmosphere.
He placed one on each table after filling the small wooden crate with menus he had printed out, which were straightforward cards listing the limited assortment of goods he could provide.
No one showed up as the hours went by. Jun made an effort not to give up. Mrs. Tanaka had assured him that others who had loved his grandfather would be waiting for him. However, the waiting was difficult, and with each minute that went by, the cafe's emptiness seemed to close in on him.
Then, shortly before noon, a young man entered through the open door.
His brown hair was disheveled, his eyes betrayed sleepless nights, and he was tall and slender. He had a little notebook in his hands and was wearing a basic jacket and jeans.
With hesitation in his voice, he said, "Is this the new cafe?"
Jun nodded. "Yes. It's precisely Sazanami. Please come in.
With a look of cautious curiosity, the young man entered and surveyed the area. He went to the bar, took a seat on one of the stools, and placed his notebook on the counter in front of him.
He said, "Can I get some coffee?" "Black, with no sugar."
Jun took a shot of espresso and observed the dark, rich, and flawless liquid pour into the cup. He placed the thick, golden crema in front of the young man along with a tiny glass of water.
The young man's eyes grew wide as he took a sip. "This is..." After taking another sip, he put the cup down and gazed at it as if it had just told him a secret. "This is incredible. How did you learn to brew coffee like this?"
Jun smiled. "I just learned. It's a gift, I suppose."
Slowly, the young man shook his head. "This is more than a present. This is not the same thing. His expression softened as he took another sip. "This is the kind of place I've been searching for. Somewhere peaceful and uninterrupted so I can work."
He pointed to his notebook. "Well, I'm an aspiring writer. I've been looking for the ideal location, and I believe this could be it."
A feeling of warmth coursed through Jun's chest. "You can come here at any time. You are free to stay for as long as you like.
The young man's weary face became almost attractive when he grinned. "Thank you. By the way, my name is Ryo. Tanaka Ryo. My grandmother is Mrs. Tanaka."
Jun blinked, startled. "Last night, your grandmother was my first client. I learned about my grandfather from her."
Ryo chuckled softly. "She told me about you as well," asserting that you were special. He said, "I should come see for myself." He took another sip of his coffee. "She was right. Both this place and you are unique.
In addition to a flush of shame, Jun experienced a warm, gentle feeling. "I'm grateful. I'm merely attempting to fulfill my grandfather's wishes."
After giving a nod, Ryo took out his notebook and started writing.
The only sounds for the next few hours were the gentle hum of the espresso machine and the scratch of Ryo's pen. Ryo ate the small plate of honey cake and another cup of coffee that Jun had prepared for him with an expression of deep gratitude.
When he was finished, he said, "Can I pay?"
Jun gave a headshake. "The house is the first stop. I'm just happy you came."
After giving him a long look, Ryo slowly nodded. "I'll return. The following day. as well as the following day. I believe I've discovered my new writing home."
The cafe was silent once more after he left.
...
Slowly, the afternoon went by, and Jun used it to reflect on what he still needed to do.
The cafe now had appliances, furniture, and a growing clientele that seemed to value what he was producing. However, there were still issues that required attention and gaps.
He made a list in his notebook, his handwriting neat and precise:
Things still needed:
- More chairs (at least 4 more)
- Proper lighting for the evening
- Art for the walls
- A proper menu (not just the simple cards)
- More ingredients (especially for the exotic recipes)
- Storage solutions for the kitchen
Additionally, he included something else that had been on his mind for some time:
Clothes. I have to buy clothes. I need to consider what I want to make, but the app can probably provide them. Something uncomplicated, cozy, yet fashionable. I want to look the part because this is my new life.
He was drawn to the idea of creating his own clothing as a means of expanding his skill set. He already knew how to do carpentry, cook, and brew coffee, and if he was willing to try, he knew the app would give him the skills he needed.
He launched the app and browsed through the categories until he came across the section on textiles and apparel.
Everything he would need to make his own wardrobe was there, including sewing machines, fabrics, and patterns.
He filled his cart with a few items to remind himself of what was possible, but not enough to purchase at this time.
As the afternoon went on, Jun started working on little tasks around the cafe.
He rearranged the furniture to make the room feel more airy and welcoming, fixed a loose hinge on the back door, and changed the lighting in the corner to better illuminate a reading area he had planned.
The door opened once more while he was in the middle of this, and a young woman entered. She had long dark hair and eyes that seemed to see everything at once and was tall and slender.
She had a big canvas bag slung over her shoulder and was dressed simply in a dress and tattered boots.
"Hello," she said in a clear, gentle voice. "I've heard that a new cafe is opening."
Wiping his hands on his apron, Jun nodded. "Yes, Sazanami for exactly, Welcome guest."
The young woman smiled as she walked over to the bar and sat elegantly on one of the stools.
"My name is Yuki. I live a few blocks away. When I saw that the lights were on, I made the decision to look into it."
Jun moved behind the bar and used a light floral blend he had discovered on the app to make her a cup of tea.
A faint, pleasant scent wafted from the cup as he set it in front of her.
Yuki closed her eyes and took a sip. "This is very beautiful. What is it?"
"It's a floral blend," Jun remarked. "I just discovered it. I'm still learning about the variety of teas that are available."
Yuki took another sip, nodded slowly, and put down the cup. "I'm an artist," she declared. "I deal with textiles and use eco-friendly materials to create clothing and accessories. I've been searching for a place to display my artwork and perhaps host a small exhibition."
A glimmer of curiosity struck Jun. "I just had clothes on my mind. The walls of the cafe could use some artwork. Perhaps we could find a solution."
Yuki's eyes brightened. "Really? Would you be open to showcasing my work?"
Jun gave a nod. "I want people to be able to come here and share their passions as a community space. It would be a pleasure to have anything you would like to display here."
Yuki's face changed completely when she grinned. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she remarked.
After an hour of conversation about art, textiles, and the difficulties of beginning something new, Jun sensed a different kind of connection developing than the ones he had with Ryo and Mrs. Tanaka.
This was an acknowledgment of common struggle and hope.
Yuki took Jun's hands in hers as she eventually got up to go. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know why I came in today, but I think it was meant to be."
Jun grinned. "I think so too."
With the sun setting behind the hills and the lake changing from silver to gold to deep purple, the evening grew slowly. As he sat at his table and gazed out at the last of the light, Jun experienced a kind of quiet satisfaction he had never experienced before.
In two days, three clients. Three individuals entered his cafe and discovered what they were looking for.
Mrs. Tanaka, with her warmth and recollections.
Ryo, his eyes searching, his writer's notebook in hand.
Yuki's artistic talent, passion, and inner strength.
His grandfather had established a place where people could go to find what they needed.
A place of coziness, friendliness, and small acts of kindness that slightly improved life.
Jun opened his notebook and wrote:
"Day 7. Three customers. Yuki, Mrs. Tanaka, and Ryo Tanaka. They all contributed something unique to the cafe. They all took something they needed with them."
"I think I'm starting to understand what Grandfather was trying to do. There's more than just the food and coffee. The feeling that you belong here and the space itself are crucial."
"I will keep building, to make this the best cafe in the world."
As he closed the notebook and turned to face the lake, he noticed that the stars were starting to appear one by one, dispersed throughout the fading sky like unfulfilled promises.
There would be new chances and challenges tomorrow.
More customers, more tales, and more opportunities to create the life his grandfather had envisioned for him would arrive tomorrow.
Jun's smile warmed his chest and extended to his eyes.