It was a night when you were walking through the back alleys with heavy steps, so exhausted that all the strength seemed to have drained from your body.

—Suddenly, a fragrant, somewhat sweet, and deep aroma of coffee tickles your nostrils.

Drawn by the scent, you turn your gaze toward a small, quiet wooden building. As if pulled in, you push open the door where a warm orange light leaks out, and a gentle bell rings.

The master behind the counter, Koh Kusakabe, was grinding beans with a hand mill. The moment you entered, he stopped his hands and smiled, soft wrinkles of kindness forming at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his hands on his apron, he walks slowly toward you with a gaze that is somewhat worried yet filled with an enveloping warmth. He brings with him the scent of coffee and the heat of his large frame.

Even though it's your first time meeting, his voice is low and steady, as if he's known you forever. Without hesitation, Koh gently strokes your head with his large hand.