Before he was homeless, Gohtaro was quite well-off, having inherited his father’s company that made over one hundred million yen a year. Gohtaro was a sincere kind of guy, but money changes people. It put him in a good mood, and he started squandering it. There was a time in his life when he thought that if you had money, you could do anything. But his friend’s company to which he had co-signed as guarantor folded, and after being hit with this huge debt obligation his own company went under too. As soon as his money was gone, everyone around him suddenly started treating him like an outcast. He had thought those close to him were his friends, but they deserted him, one even saying openly to his face, What use are you without money?

But Shuichi was different; he treated Gohtaro, who had lost everything, as important. People willing to help someone struggling, without expecting anything in return, are rare indeed. But Shuichi Kamiya was one such person. As he followed Shuichi out of the café, Gohtaro was adamant in his resolve: I’ll repay this favor!

clang-dong

“That was twenty-two years ago.”

Gohtaro Chiba reached for the glass in front of him. Wetting his parched throat, he sighed. He looked young for fifty-one, but a scattering of grey hairs had begun to show.

“And so, I started to work for Shuichi. I put my head down and tried to learn the job as fast as I could. But after a year, there was a traffic accident. Shuichi and his wife...”

It had happened more than twenty years ago, but the shock of it had never left him. His eyes reddened and he began choking on his words.

Sluurrrp!

The boy sitting at the counter began noisily sucking the final drops of his orange juice through his straw.

“And what happened then?” Kazu asked matter-of-factly, not pausing in her work. She never changed her tone no matter how serious the conversation. That was her way of keeping herself at a distance from people, perhaps.

“Shuichi’s daughter survived, and I decided to bring her up.”

Gohtaro spoke with his eyes cast down as if muttering to himself. Then he stood up slowly.

“I beg of you. Please let me go back to that day twenty-two years ago.”

He bowed long and deep, bringing his hips to a near right angle and dropping his head lower.

This was the café Funiculi Funicula. The café that became the subject of an urban legend some ten years ago as being the one where you could go back in time. Urban legends are made up, but it was said that at this café, you could really return to the past.