The Weight of Truth

An imaginative composed by Nadine (Year 7)

This story draws inspiration from the Japanese bestseller Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. It centres on a small Tokyo café tucked away in a quiet alley, where the coffee has a magical ability: anyone who drinks it can travel back in time to meet someone from their past, but only until the coffee cools.

The wind breezed past the rusty old sign, hanging on by a thread. Time had chipped away at the frayed edges and bold letters, becoming barely visible now. The walls of the building were worn down, with cobwebs that occupied each corner. Leaves crumpled under the light tread of Jane’s feet as she made her way down the cobbled path towards the cafe. The colour drained out of her face, as a sense of uneasiness lingered in the ominous atmosphere. She skimmed her fingers past the sign, a shiver tingling down her spine. ‘Cupcakes and Lattes,’  it read, with bright images of cupcakes and lattes dancing around it. How ironic, Jane scoffed to herself nervously. She reached for her necklace, kneading it between her shivering hands. She often did that when she was uneasy. 

Jane reached the wooden door, abruptly pausing before reaching the handle. She exhaled just as the door groaned open. Her breath hitched, her eyes shutting suddenly at the thundering sound. A waft of warm vanilla cupcakes flowed into her nose, causing her to peek her eyes open. She let out a slight gasp, taken aback in awe at the sight before her. It was as if she had entered a whole new place. Instead of the worn-down stone building that Jane saw outside, there was a brightly illuminated room welcoming her in warmly like a cosy embrace. Faux vines hung from the wooden shelves, where ancient trinkets and souvenirs rested. Plaid tablecloths spread across the dark tabletops, along with silverware that gleamed under the vintage chandelier. A sense of comfort filled Jane’s heart as she slowly let go of her necklace. 

“Hello there,” a voice boomed across the room, startling Jane as she jumped back, bumping into one of the tables.

A man, around his forties, leaned against the doorframe, a wide smirk plastered across his face. His thick moustache twitched along with the movement of his mouth, his coat trailing behind him with each long stride. Each step he took was filled with the clattering of his many bracelets and rings. His hair was as white as snow, and stood up as if he had been electrocuted. Jane’s eyes flickered to his chest, where a badge that read ‘owner’ lay. She wondered why it didn’t have his name. 

“What brings you here, young lady?” the mysterious figure questioned, his booming voice filling the silence of the still room. It seemed like he already knew, though. 

The simple question flooded Jane’s mind with buried memories and thousands of thoughts. Yet, a single image of her father flickered in her mind, like a damaged lightbulb struggling to keep shining. She shut her eyes, the years of anger and grief and questions of why all coming back to her. She could picture the day her dad had left her without a word, as clear as day, like it had been yesterday. People told her repeatedly that time heals everything, yet Jane still wasn’t content after all these years. There was not a single night when she hadn’t gone to sleep thinking about why her father left, or blaming herself for his disappearance. She had come to the cafe, hoping for answers. The man set down a cup of steaming hot coffee, snapping Jane out of her pondering. She looked up at him in confusion. 

“Drink up,” the man whispered, nudging the cup towards her, “It’ll help you feel better.”

“Make sure to drink it before it gets cold, though, or you’ll get stuck in the past,” he shouted with a sly wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

Jane held the clay mug, the warmth running up her fingertips and into her heart. She watched the steam flow into the air, like musical notes being played on an instrument. She took a small sip, the bittersweet taste lingering on her pale lips. The heat of the drink filled her mouth, a feeling of comfort rising within her again. Jane closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt into the leather chair she was sitting upon. She no longer felt the cold of the outside world or the raging storm within her soul. Jane’s mind stilled, along with her surroundings. 

A wave of nausea suddenly overcame Jane and startled, her eyes opened suddenly. Her body felt limp as if she had just woken up from a deep slumber and a pounding began in her head as she tried to glance around the room with her hazy vision. She froze. Sitting right across the table from her was her father. 

The man who had left her by herself for years. 

The man who left with no explanation. 

The man who allowed Jane to suffer the consequences of his disappearance. 

Her father cleared his throat. 

An unsettling silence bridged the gap between Jane and her father. Both of them sat there without a word, an uncertainty beginning to weigh down the air. Her father shuffled in his seat before speaking. 

“So, how are you, Jane?” Those words weighed down the air even more, along with Jane’s heart. She sat there without moving an inch, still recovering from the shock. Her words got tangled up in her throat, not able to make it out. 

“I’m good, thanks,” she whispered, barely any sound coming out of her mouth. A complete lie that was. Jane’s eyes were still wide, her fingers reaching for her necklace once again. 

The same necklace her father had given her, just before he left. 

The cool, familiar touch of the emerald necklace sparked a buried memory in Jane’s mind. She could feel the warmth of her father’s hug, the smoothness of his jacket and the woody scent of his cologne clinging to his skin. She could hear the soft shut of the door as her father slipped out with a wave of his hand, like the air conditioning escaping when a window is opened. Jane waited for hours that night, her hopes of her father returning decreasing with each tick of the clock. She ended up going to bed late, not able to sleep properly with her heavy mind filled with worry. Days had eventually turned into months, and months turned into years. Everyone assumed that she had stopped believing in her father’s return, but there was a tiny sliver of hope that Jane carried with her throughout all those years. That hope had paid off, as she sat face to face with him at last. Her father cleared his throat once again, bringing Jane out of her musing. 

“That’s good,” her father replied, his hands rubbing his knees nervously. His mouth opened a few times, then closed again, as if he was trying to keep the uneasy conversation going. Jane watched her father’s leg tap against the wooden floor frantically as she decided to ease the awkward atmosphere.

Jane tried to speak once more. She finally managed to push a few words out. It was the question which had stuck in her mind for years, the one to which she had come looking for an answer: “Why did you leave?”

Her father shifted. Behind the hesitancy visible in his eyes was a darkness. A sadness of sorts which seemed to fill that void. He inhaled a long, deep breath. After a pause that felt like a lifetime, he broke the silence. 

“I was coming back to you, Jane, I really was.” He took another breath before continuing, “I didn’t mean to leave without a proper goodbye, I promise.”

Jane froze in her spot. She wanted to ask what he meant, but was unsure of how to. She replayed the questions she had memorised ages ago, in case she had met her father again. Jane thought she would have been able to talk with ease. Now, sitting across from him, her mind went blank, the words choked in her throat as she tried to speak.

Her father read Jane’s face, realising instantly what was on her mind, even after all these years. He winced at the memory, not wanting to remember the painful moment. 

“It was a car crash,” he revealed slowly.

Jane’s eyes widened. A knot tightened in her chest, an instant coldness stabbing her in her core. That’s when it hit her. She had spent all those years believing her father had abandoned her, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

He was gone. 

From her life and the world. 

Her father watched her face drop into her hands, her quiet sob filling the silence of the room. He reached over for Jane’s hands, his warmth comforting her shivering self. Jane glanced up, her watery eyes peeking through her raven hair. A soft whisper slipped out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

Her father’s face softened, his eyes reflecting pain and sorrow. He pulled Jane into an embrace that seemed to hold solace and grief. He whispered words of gentle soothing into Jane’s ears, tenderly stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her, just like he did when she was a child.

“Don’t be sorry Jane, it’s not your fault,” he reassured her, “focus on the good memories

Jane, don’t live in regret.”

A childhood memory suddenly flashed in front of Jane’s eyes. Silent tears had fallen down Jane’s face, as thick blood gushed down her knee. Young Jane was perched upon the stairs in a dark corner, where she was hidden away from the rest of her family. She didn’t want to bother anybody. That was when her father appeared around the corner, a soft smile emerging on his face. He had walked up to her and just sat with her silently, while he cleaned up her knee gently. Once he was finished, he pulled Jane into a warm embrace, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Her father had whispered words of comfort and reassurance into her ear, as he rocked her back and forth until she slipped into a daze. Just like now. She was in her father’s arms once again, after all the years of wondering and uncertainty. She just couldn’t accept the years she had spent angry, when all this time her father was gone forever

Jane couldn’t handle the heaviness of reality anymore. She slowly reached for the coffee again, hoping it would steady her pacing heart. The mug had lost its steaming warmth that once comforted her shivering hands, it was lukewarm now. 

She was running out of time. 

She took a small sip, unable to look at her father.

A sudden drowsiness struck Jane as if she had just teleported to another realm. Her vision became hazy once again, the pounding in her head beginning to return. She glanced up, ensuring her father was still there. 

He wasn’t.

She clung to her necklace again. The cafe was still warmly lit and overly decorated, holding her in solace. Jane peeked around the corner of the kitchen, looking for the mysterious owner. There was no one. She let out a sigh, unsure of what to do now. Her heart became heavy with sorrow, the memories of her father flashing before her eyes. She crouched down on the wooden floor, hugging her knees close to her chest, a tear sliding down her cheek. The years of anger and blame had transformed into a feeling of grief and mourning.

She had received the answers she had come seeking, but at what cost, she thought to herself. Jane realised then that truth isn’t always joyful, but a form of closure that allows one to heal and grow without regret or blame. That’s what she was going to do, heal and grow, when she was ready to.