Fusagi Quotes in Before the Coffee Gets Cold
Chapter 2 Quotes
It wasn’t until later that [Kohtake] learned that [Fusagi] could barely read or write. When she found out, she asked him how he managed to read all the long letters she wrote to him. Apparently, he just allowed his eyes to wander over them. Then he just wrote in his reply the vague impression he got from this gazing. But with the last letter, after casting his eyes over it, he was overcome with a feeling that he had missed something important. He read it word for word while asking different people to tell him what the words meant—hence the long time it took to reply.
“So I ask you never to forget one thing. You are my wife, and if life becomes too hard for you as my wife, I want you to leave me.
“You don’t have to stay by me as a nurse. If I am no good as a husband, then I want you to leave me. All I ask is that you can do what you can as my wife. We are husband and wife after all. Even if I lose my memory, I want to be together as husband and wife. I cannot stand the idea of us staying together only out of sympathy.
“This is something I cannot say to your face, so I wrote it in a letter.”
Amid the anxiety and fear of losing his memory, he was hoping that she would continue to be his wife. She was always in his heart.
There was more proof of this to be found. Even after losing his memory, he could content himself by looking at travel magazines, opening his notebook, and jotting something down. She had once looked at what he wrote. He had been listing the destinations that he had traveled to in order to visit gardens. She had simply assumed his actions were a hangover from his love of his work as a landscape gardener. But she was wrong. The destinations he made a note of were all the places that he had visited with her. She didn’t notice at the time. She couldn’t see. These notes were the last handhold for Fusagi, who was gradually forgetting who she was.
Chapter 3 Quotes
[Hirai’s] walk was the same as normal, but she was dressed rather differently. Rather than wearing her usual loud clothes in red and pink, she was in mourning dress. Rather than a head full of curlers, her hair was done up in a tight bun. Anyone would agree that she looked like a different person.
[…]
The crease deepened on Kohtake’s brow as she leaned forward.
“Was it today?”
“What today?”
“The funeral, of course,” Kohtake replied, betraying her uneasiness with Hirai’s attitude.
“Yeah. Look,” Hirai said as she stood up and spun round to show her funeral attire. “It kind of suits me, don’t you think? Do you think it makes me look a bit subdued?” Hirai made some model-like poses, adopting a proud face.
Her sister was dead. Unless the people in the café were mistaken about that, her irreverence seemed over the top.



