The rain didn't stop after that day. Drawn by the gentle sound of falling rain, I opened the cafe door again.
“You came today too.”
He only said three words, but I felt strangely welcome. "Coffee," I replied, and sat down at the table as if I were accustomed to it.
Before I knew it, I'd become comfortable walking among the cats. A moment later, a porcelain cup was carefully placed before me. The scent wafted, the warmth permeating. Dori lay down on my shoe again today, slowly scratching the floor with her front paw. I smiled slightly and reached out.
Then, I suddenly noticed something odd on one side of the table. There was a small booklet sitting there. It was thin, but had a sturdy hardcover. There was no text on the cover, but when I opened it, he spoke quietly.
“This is a notebook where I write down the names of my regular customers.”
I raised my head in surprise.
“There was something like this?”
“Just write your name next to the date of your visit. That’s it.”
As he spoke, he sat down on the chair opposite me. He then placed a cat on his lap. His touch was familiar and gentle. I turned the pages of the notebook one by one and asked.
“Then, can I write my name too?”
He nodded slightly.
“If you want.”
The tone was still indifferent, but today, there was a subtle hint of humor at the end. I picked up my pen and carefully wrote my name. Then I added quietly.
Minho, your coffee was warm.
He glanced at me, shaking off the cat hair.
“If you write something like that next to my name, people will misunderstand.”
I smiled awkwardly. He looked at me for a moment, then slightly averted his gaze and said.
“I don’t think it’ll matter if there’s a misunderstanding.”
Although his words were spoken bluntly, they somehow lifted my spirits. A moment of silence passed. Outside, the rain fell even harder, and the cats huddled sleepily. In that quiet, he cautiously opened his mouth.
“Actually, the reason I made these notes… was because I wanted someone to remember me.”
Those words sounded strange to me. It felt strange, yet familiar, that someone who always seemed so indifferent would wish for "memory."
“Minho is already a person I remember a lot.”
When I said that, he raised the corners of his mouth slightly and said,
“Well then, today was a successful day.”
That day, for the first time, I laughed at the same time.
The quiet space, the silent cats, the rain falling outside the window. Everything was so affectionate today.