"There's a reason I don't accept credit cards," began Mr Yoshida. "Most shops like mine don't open early in the morning. I get a lot of tourists asking for lattes to go, but that's not what I do. Young people may enjoy it now, but we don't have a tradition of walking and drinking coffee in the morning in Japan."

Mr Yoshida goes on to explain that, in a shop like his, coffee is always hand-poured. It's meant to be enjoyed seated from a porcelain cup of just the right proportions—not a disposable takeaway vessel. That's why he named his place CALM. This original 1960s kissaten (喫茶店) sits on the eastern edge of the Akasaka district. The atmosphere, a designated no-laptop zone, is indeed peaceful.

"I don't mind foreigners who want to sit down, but being cash-only gets rid of the latte-to-go crowd, even if it sometimes annoys them. I don't speak much English, so it's hard to explain otherwise" he continues.

Finding an independent kissaten open at 9 AM is indeed uncommon. The others I know of in the Akasaka area don't open until around 11 AM or even noon. In such cases, I might rely on chain establishments like Renoir (ルノアール), known for their earlier opening hours. And occasionally, there is the guilty pleasure of a 7-Eleven coffee paired with a selection of pre-packaged, processed bread—the quintessential konbini breakfast.

I arrived at CALM precisely at 9, just as Mr Yoshida was opening. He had already given me his usual no-credit-cards rebuttal. But over his shoulder, I noticed a row of authentic Thonet bentwood chairs and coffee syphons lined neatly along a blue-tiled bar. The syphons practically called to be fired up, so I persisted, assuring him that cash payment wouldn't be a problem. At an old kissaten, a ¥1000 note usually covers a hand-brewed coffee and a light breakfast, with change to spare.

My morning started roughly five hours earlier. I'd woken suddenly at 4 AM in my compact room at the Hotel Mystays Premier Akasaka. It was still dark outside. I don't surface before 5 AM, even on an unusually early morning. Yet returning to sleep felt futile—I was energised, as one might feel after a late-afternoon nap.