The front door towered over me, carved from a pale wood so pristine it practically glowed. Thin gold inlays formed delicate branches that twisted outward like veins of sunlight. It slid open with the quiet elegance of a paper fan, revealing a narrow entrance hall polished to a mirror finish. I half expected my reflection to start bowing in greeting.
The atmosphere shifted the moment I stepped inside. It was cooler, calmer, as though the building itself exhaled silence and control. Immediately beyond the threshold lay the reception room, and it was... spring.
That was truly the only way I could describe it. The walls were painted in soft pink hues, meticulously mimicking cherry blossoms in bloom. Actual petals floated gently in shallow trays of water set between polished floor panels, and translucent silk drapes swayed faintly, catching a gentle breeze from an unseen source. The natural lighting was delicate, warm, and bright without casting harsh shadows, and the subtle, unmistakable scent of plum blossom filled the air. Somewhere, hidden from view, a shamisen played a soft melodic scale, as if the room needed musical confirmation of its seasonal theme.
I was completely blown away. For the first time in both my lives, I was witnessing such authentic elegance. My mind kept returning to this peculiar feeling, this world's beauty felt more genuine, more alive. It had more... soul.
I stood, utterly engrossed in the intricate atmosphere and refined beauty of the most sophisticated room I'd ever encountered. Every tiny detail had been thoughtfully arranged, each element meticulously placed to ensure absolute perfection. It felt less like a living space and more like a carefully constructed masterpiece, an immersive work of art.
Chuckling softly to myself out of sheer awe, I suddenly noticed the butler standing silently behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin, barely managing to stifle a startled scream. I quickly regained control of my emotions, though my internal monologue ran rampant. "Damn it, why does a butler know how to mask his chakra signature? He's definitely not an ordinary butler, that's for sure."
The impression I got from him was caution, quiet power, and readiness for anything. A great combination to have in your household staff if you ask me. Gathering myself, I turned back to admire the magnificent room, once more pulled deeply into its beauty.
A delicate sound drifted to my ears, but I was still too distracted to register it. The butler cleared his throat sharply right next to me, making me recoil in surprise. I glanced at him accusingly. "Bro, personal space and proper hygiene. Don't cough into someone's ear!"
He stared at me briefly, scanning me from head to toe with mild judgment in his eyes. However, professionalism quickly overcame him, and he said with a respectful tone, "The young lady of the house is standing in front of you."
Raising my eyebrows, I turned around slowly. "What do you mean, the young lady of the house?" Then, I saw Sena standing there, clearly irritated.
She stood near the center of the room, her posture composed as always, but her appearance today was anything but ordinary. She wore a light kimono dyed in gentle gradients of pink and white, the colors blending softly like watercolor across delicate silk. The fabric shimmered subtly in the gentle light, catching faint reflections from the shallow water trays and the polished floor beneath her feet.
Intricate cherry blossom embroidery trailed gracefully from her shoulder down to the hem, each petal sewn with exquisite detail that seemed to shift slightly with her movements. A thin golden sash wrapped around her waist, tied into a carefully layered knot that looked more decorative than practical, clearly tailored for presence rather than combat.
Her sleeves flowed long and loose, each movement she made caused the fabric to sway elegantly, like petals drifting in a gentle breeze. Around her neck was a slim silver choker holding a single jade bead, understated yet unmistakably valuable.
What stood out most was her hair. Usually simple and neat, today it was carefully swept into an elegant style, secured by a floral kanzashi hairpin. The kind worn by noble daughters at festivals. The blossoms on it matched those embroidered on her kimono exactly.
It wasn't flashy or overly loud, yet it made one thing abundantly clear. Sena didn't merely belong here. She ruled here.
I was taken aback by her appearance. Yes, I was used to her always looking incredibly well-dressed and refined, but today felt distinctly different, as if she were putting on a show for someone. I just wasn't sure for whom. Noticing my obvious distraction, Sena poked me firmly on the forehead, making me flinch slightly.
Leaning close, she whispered sharply, "Be extremely careful around my mother. Act respectfully, and treat her like she's Daiken-sensei but with even higher status. As for my father, just be yourself."
I was still processing this crucial information when a delicate yet commanding female voice rang out clearly. "Sena, it's not ladylike to greet our guest before the head of the household does."
Her parents entered the room gracefully, and suddenly the dynamic shifted once more.
A warm, booming laugh filled the hall, comfortably rich and entirely self-assured. "You must be Noa-kun!" exclaimed the man who walked in next, his voice resonating like a celebratory festival drum.
He was enormous, not from muscle, but from the sheer presence of wealth that radiated off him in pleasant waves. His round face was all warmth and mirth, rosy cheeks suggesting every day began with sake and a generous feast. Yet, despite his size, there was absolutely nothing sloppy about him. His robe, a masterwork of understated luxury, was deep navy trimmed with subtle gold embroidery, patterned with delicate brush motifs of wind and water. It quietly communicated immense wealth rather than screaming it, draping flawlessly over his broad frame.
"I am Yamanaka Hirotaka," he announced cheerfully, opening an exquisite lacquered folding fan with a practiced flick. "And this beautiful, elegant lady beside me is my wife, Sumire."
As if summoned by her introduction, Sumire stepped forward gracefully. A stark contrast to her exuberant husband. Where Hirotaka radiated warmth and openness, Sumire exuded poised elegance and subtle authority. Her refined violet kimono bore an elegant silver pattern of sakura petals that cascaded delicately across the sleeves. Her posture was impeccable, and her slight nod felt more like granting approval rather than simply offering a greeting.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet the guest our daughter insisted we welcome personally," she said. Her voice was soft yet commanding, as precise and sharp as the edge of a finely crafted blade.
I bowed reflexively, still uncertain whether I was being greeted or thoroughly evaluated, probably both. She was smiling politely, yet I could easily sense that it wasn't genuine. She clearly wasn't pleased someone like me was inside her carefully curated environment, viewing me as nothing more than a dirty, wet rat contaminating her immaculate world. However, her mastery over her emotions revealed nothing outwardly.
Suddenly, a realization dawned on me. So that's where Sena got her impeccable control from. I recalled her earlier warning and tried to behave, really, I did. But the look she gave me lit a fire under my rebellious streak. I couldn't help myself. With exaggerated hesitation and the politest voice I could muster, I offered a thinly veiled tease. "It is an honor to meet you, your... Headmistress Supreme?"
I glanced between Sena and her mother uncertainly. Sena gave me a deadpan expression, clearly wishing she could facepalm openly. However, her father immediately burst into hearty laughter, eyes watering slightly as he wiped away tears of genuine amusement. "That," he managed between laughs, "is definitely a new one!"
I stood there, fighting back a satisfied smirk, already anticipating an eventful evening in the extravagant and unpredictable Yamanaka household.