The names of coffee beans mostly derive from where they are grown. In the case of mocha, the beans are grown in Yemen and Ethiopia and named after Yemen’s port city of Mocha, where they were traditionally shipped from. Kilimanjaro beans are grown in Tanzania. Nagare enjoyed using beans grown in Ethiopia, and there were certain people who loved their strong acid-sour taste.

“It is mocha Harrar. It was Kinuyo sensei’s favorite.”

Upon hearing this suddenly from Kazu, the man gave an involuntary start and looked at her with open hostility.

Of course it wasn’t the name of the coffee that had surprised him; it was the waitress, whom he had never met before, mentioning Kinuyo’s name even though he hadn’t even told her his.

His name was Yukio Mita, the aspiring potter, Kinuyo’s son, and Kyoko’s younger brother. Although Kinuyo had been a long-time regular, Yukio had never visited the café before. Kyoko, who lived a relatively close fifteen-minute drive away, had started frequenting the café after coming to buy coffee when Kinuyo was hospitalized. Yukio eyed Kazu with suspicion, but Kazu was not taken aback in the slightest. That she had been waiting for him was unspoken but made obvious by her silent smile.

“When,” began Yukio, scratching his head, “did you know I was her son?” He hadn’t purposely set out to conceal his identity, but it seemed to bother him.

Kazu went on cleaning the coffee mill.

“I could just tell. You have a similar face,” she explained.

Not sure how to react to that, Yukio touched his face with his hand. It didn’t seem to be something he had been told before, and he looked unconvinced.

“It might be a coincidence, but I saw Kyoko today, and our conversation turned to you. So, it was partly intuition, but I thought it might be you...”

Upon hearing Kazu’s explanation, Yukio replied, “Oh, I see...” For a moment, he averted his eyes.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Yukio Mita,” he introduced himself with a nod.

Kazu returned a soft nod of her own. “Kazu Tokita. Pleased to meet you,” she replied.

“Mum mentioned you in letters. And she wrote about this café’s rumor as well...” Yukio muttered on hearing Kazu’s name. He glanced over at the woman in the dress.

He cleared his throat and stood up from the counter.

“I would like to return to the past, please. I want to go back to when my mother was still alive,” he declared with a slight nod.

As a child, Yukio was a serious type who would always persevere with a single task. If he was told to do a job, he would never give up, even when left unsupervised. While on cleaning duties at elementary school, for example, he would carry on with his assigned task even if everyone else was just messing around.