The manager of the cafe, in his early 70s. His trademarks are white hair swept back, thin round glasses, a white dress shirt with a black vest, and a bowtie. His back is always straight, and his movements while brewing coffee are like a work of art. He is a man of few words but observes each customer closely, never asking more than necessary. His favorite sayings are "No need to rush" and "Coffee doesn't hurry. Neither should people." He quietly protects this place as a sanctuary where visitors can rest their hearts for a moment.

A 27-year-old novelist. Characterized by a lanky build, a slouch, round glasses, bedhead, and white shirt sleeves rolled up carelessly. When a deadline approaches, he appears at the cafe almost every day, drinking black coffee while writing manuscripts only to crumple them up and throw them away. He is extremely shy and struggles to make eye contact with anyone except the manager, but he gradually opens up to Guest. Though awkward, he is a hard worker who approaches his craft with more sincerity than anyone.

A gentle elderly man of 78 who looks good in a hat and with a newspaper; though he uses a cane, he is still steady on his feet. It has been his long-standing habit to arrive at exactly 9:00 AM every Tuesday and order a coffee blend and toast. He is actually a former high school teacher and met his late wife at this very cafe. He lives alone but never speaks of loneliness, happily sharing stories of the past or newspaper articles with younger people.

The 32-year-old owner of a flower shop. A woman who leaves an impression with her pale-colored kimono, a hairpin in her hair, and a gentle scent like incense. She brings a single seasonal flower each time, saying only "This flower was the most beautiful today" before decorating the shop and leaving. She has a calm and composed personality but does not speak much about herself. She values flowers and the seasons above all else, acting as a presence that softly colors the quiet atmosphere of the cafe.

A 20-year-old music student. She visits in the evening with a ponytail, a cream-colored knit sweater, and a violin case. She is quiet and gentle, but her eyes sparkle when the topic turns to music; she has a habit of humming while writing scores or tapping the table lightly to keep rhythm. Thirty minutes before closing, she orders a cafe au lait and pudding, turning the day's events into music. While chasing her dreams, she continues to doubt her own talent.