MORIOKA—The mewing of Mimi-chan, a one-eyed black cat, echoed through the old wooden interior of a small liquor shop here on the evening of Dec. 7.

Usually in winter, the feline slipped under the “kotatsu” table in the cluttered but cozy shop and remained silent, soaking in the warmth from the electric heater.

But Mimi-chan, whose image appears on the store’s souvenir T-shirts, seemed to sense that this evening was different.

“You came out to say goodbye to all of them, didn’t you?” Mineko Hirai, 78, said while stroking the cat’s body in the shop.

It was the night before the store, Hirako Shoten, would close for good, ending its 80-year history of serving sake and providing precious “life lessons” to both staff and patrons.

STARTED DURING WAR

Hirai’s father-in-law, Kosaku, opened Hirako Shoten in Morioka’s Konyacho district in 1943 during World War II.

It was known as a paradise for “kaku-uchi,” (called “mokkiri” in Morioka), the culture of buying alcohol at a liquor store or brewery and drinking it at the site, typically while standing in a corner.

On a typical evening, Hirai would pour sake into a cup on a table until the surface tension rose about a millimeter above the edge.

“Here you go. Drink it with your lips, please,” she would say.

Customers would carefully bring their mouths close to the cup and take a light sip, trying desperately not to allow a single drop to spill out.

The shop also offered snacks that included rice crackers for 25 yen ($0.17), cucumbers with miso for 50 yen and tofu cut into square pieces for 80 yen.

For the tofu dish, Hirai heated it in boiling water in a tub on the stove.

Hirako Shoten was connected to the founding family of Kikunotsukasa Shuzo, the oldest sake brewery in Iwate Prefecture. It supplied Hirako Shoten all of its sake.

A glass of sake cost from 270 yen to 470 yen, prices kept low because the drinks came directly from the brewery.

Hirako Shoten was always bustling with people from all walks of life and all corners of the country. At dusk, regulars and “ichigen-san” (first-timers) could be counted on to enter the premises.

But it wasn’t just the low prices that attracted newcomers and kept regulars happy for decades.

“This place has been called ‘Hirako School’ since the days (when the late Kosaku) was running it,” Hirai said. “That’s because people from different professions got together and learned from each other. It all started when customers who wanted a drink said, ‘I’m going to the school.’”

FAMILY PESSIMISM

Hirai was born in Oshu, a city in the southern part of Iwate Prefecture. She moved around as her father, a government employee, was often transferred.

After graduating from high school in Morioka, Hirai got a job at the prefectural education board and later at the Morioka District Public Prosecutors Office.

She also learned flower arrangement at Hirako Shoten, and her instructor was the mother of Kotaro Hirai, whom she later married.

Kotaro, now 83, worked at the Bank of Iwate, and the couple moved around in the prefecture for his transfers.

When they were living in Miyako during the 11th year of their marriage, Kosaku asked her to help him run Hirako Shoten.

Hirai’s parents were opposed to the idea, saying “business” did not run in their family and that she would never be able to do it.

However, the opposition motivated her.

The work kept her busy until 8 p.m., when the shop closed. Her only day off during the year was New Year’s Day.

Hirai said she had never attended Sansa Odori, a famous summer dance festival in Morioka.

“It has been nearly 45 years since (I started work),” Hirai recalled. “I am really blessed with meeting excellent people, and I have never regretted running the store. I have many good memories. I am very grateful.”

DECADES-LONG REGULARS

The shop’s walls were covered in newspaper articles, letters, photos, drawings and other information. There was no shortage of materials for patrons learn things.

And just like in real schools, Hirako Shoten had a “principal”—Kengo Kondo, 86.

He started frequenting Hirako Shoten when he was about 45 years old and working in advertising at Kawatoku, a department store in Morioka.

Kondo consistently wore a baseball cap and would sip his drinks quietly at a corner of a shiny black wooden table.

In the early years, he drank sake, but he switched to shochu when a client warned him about the lingering odor from sake consumed on the previous night.

“This place is a social club for adults,” Kondo said. “There are all kinds of customers, and it’s interesting to receive all kinds of information.”

Kaori Odashima, a 41-year-old cafe worker, said she was surprised when she first came to Hirako Shoten about a year and a half ago and saw people introducing themselves and starting conversations with total strangers.

“I felt like I was in safe hands,” she said.

Masanori Kumagai, a 56-year-old government employee who started frequenting Hirako Shoten about seven years ago, said Hirai has been like a substitute for his mother who died five years ago.

Kumagai, an avid fisherman, was happy to share with Hirai the sea bream and other fish that he caught.

Hisashi Oikawa, 91, was the oldest regular of Hirako Shoten, and he said the shop has been the key to his longevity.

“Thanks to drinking here, I have lived to 91,” the former designer said, cracking up with laughter.

But the supposed elixirs of life were not the primary motivation to frequent the joint.

“The reason I come here is because of everyone’s faces. I want to meet humans,” he said.

TEARFUL GOODBYES

On Dec. 8, Hirako Shoten brought down the curtain on its 80 years of history.

The store was filled with regulars saying goodbye.

Takashi Kawashiro, 44, took the afternoon off from work to attend the “school” one last time.

“I had a once-in-a-lifetime encounter here, and I have so many memories,” he said as tears welled up in his eyes.

Tetsuo Matsushima, a 72-year-old photographer, said what was on so many people’s minds.

“It feels very sad,” he said. “I will miss this place.”

Ten minutes before closing, about 30 customers sang “Aogeba Toutoshi” and “Hotaru no Hikari,” two folk songs commonly heard at graduation ceremonies in Japan, accompanied by a guitar.

Hirai’s daughter, Yoshiko, 53, who had helped run the store, told the patrons in a speech, “Your final education is to graduate from Hirako School.”

Bowing her head repeatedly, Hirai told her customers: “I am so touched that so many of you have gathered here. Thank you so much.”

For her next life, Hirai said she was looking forward to spending time in a field growing vegetables.

The landowner is expected to use the Hirako Shoten site for an apartment complex.