I recently finished Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi, and it’s been sitting with me in that quiet, lingering way certain books do. It’s not a flashy story. In fact, it’s incredibly simple on the surface—but that’s kind of the beauty of it.

The story is set in a little café in Tokyo where, under very specific and honestly kind of bizarre rules, you can travel back in time. The twist is that nothing you do in the past can change the present. You’re just… there. Watching. Talking. Revisiting. And you have to finish your coffee before it gets cold or you’re stuck. (Don’t worry, the consequences are more symbolic than scary.)

The book is made up of four stories, each one focusing on someone who wants to go back—whether to say goodbye, to get answers, or just to be with someone they miss. I won’t spoil anything, but some of the moments are really touching. Not in a dramatic, tearjerker kind of way, but in that quiet ache you feel when someone says something real. I think what hit me hardest is how often we assume we’ll get another chance to say what we really feel—and how rarely that’s true.

It’s definitely not for everyone. The writing is very matter-of-fact, and the time travel rules get repeated a lot, which can feel a little clunky. Some of the dialogue is a bit stiff too, probably because it’s a translation. But honestly, I didn’t mind. It almost made it feel more grounded—like a simple folktale or a story being passed around.

If you’re looking for a fast-paced plot or lots of twists, this probably isn’t the book. But if you’re in the mood for something gentle and introspective, this might be exactly what you need. It’s short, strange, and quietly powerful.

Would I read it again? Maybe not right away. But I’m glad I read it, and I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoys reflective stories with a little bit of magic.