To Ryo Yamanouchi of the Jun-Kissa Preservation Society

2023/07/22
Lately, I've been struggling with the work right in front of me.
I knew my body was fine, but my heart was tired.
At 30, I'm still the type who loses his way the moment I stop taking time to look at myself.

Yesterday, I learned that a friend's band was holding an indefinite hiatus concert
to mark their 10th anniversary.
This is it! I thought.
Of course, I respect that they spent their entire twenties—all ten years—continuing their band activities,
but I was curious about what kind of thoughts my friend would express. I thought it might be a hint for me, too.


Two hours from Tokyo,
I arrived at Chiba Station.

The concert starts at 18:00.
Since I arrived about two hours early,
I wandered around the area.
It's a habit of mine to look for a turning point
by doing something out of the ordinary.

My eyes caught sight of
the spicy ramen shop Nakamoto, which whetted my appetite,
so I finished my lunch.
In the end, I came all the way to Chiba only to eat at a chain restaurant, I thought, feeling inwardly disappointed as I looked for a cafe I could easily enter to quench my thirst.

A quick search on Google Maps
led me to the traditional coffee shop "European" within a 10-second walk.
The exterior is a corner of an old two-story building covered in a green curtain, but it radiates a charm amidst the standardized designs surrounding it.

The round, ochre-colored knob,
worn smooth by the many people who have gripped it, tells the story of how it is rooted in the community.

When I stepped inside, there was a somewhat nostalgic scent of mixed tobacco and coffee.

The interior has a wooden counter with 7 seats and 3 tables,
and though it is cozy,
the varnish on the woodwork is illuminated by a soft light,
making it a quiet place that feels isolated from the outside world.
The background music is understated, and the sounds of people talking, spoons stirring, coffee being ground, and ice clinking resonate together.

When I sat at the counter where I was guided,
several aged, brown books were lined up in front of me.
I happened to notice a book titled "Jun-Kissa of the 47 Prefectures" and picked it up out of curiosity.
It seems this shop was also featured,
as there was a red sticky note attached to it.

Curious about who wrote it, I read the very last page.

The author is Ryo Yamanouchi.
He seems to have been an eccentric office worker who visited a total of 4,000 traditional coffee shops and ran the Jun-Kissa Preservation Society.
He had the title of copywriter, so he seems to have been in an industry close to mine.
Born in 1984, he was nine years older than me,
and he published the book at 29. The same age as me.

Huh. He had such refined, cool hobbies.
With nothing else to do while waiting for my coffee,
I searched for him on Twitter.

Huh?
The updates stopped in 2013, the year he published the book.
He had just published the book and was just getting started,
so was it difficult to continue this activity?

I tried searching on Google.
Then, a general blog post popped up.

It seems he passed away in a traffic accident one week after publishing this book.

A book I happened to pick up in a coffee shop I happened to enter.
I didn't feel sad.
I just honestly thought Mr. Yamanouchi was cool.

He published a book about the coffee shops he loved,
the book was placed in his favorite coffee shop,
and a coffee lover who happened to see the book
is now taking notes on the next coffee shop to visit,
or creating time to enjoy
Mr. Yamanouchi's words.
It might be small,
but he is still having an impact even after death.

If I keep putting off what I want to do,
I will die.
Because you only live once.

It feels like Mr. Yamanouchi taught me that all over again.

While drinking the cold-brewed Dutch coffee
recommended in the book,
I finished writing this piece in the shop.

Now, let's go watch my cool friend who has continued the band he loves for 10 years.

Thank you, Mr. Yamanouchi.
Let's meet again at some traditional coffee shop.

I left the shop
and headed to the live music venue.