On the way back from lunch at a family restaurant near our local station, we stopped at Yuji’s place to secure our weapons. His home sat at the edge of a residential neighborhood, enclosed by two-meter-high stone walls and white-plastered fences. I visited here often, but the sight always struck me the same way: those massive double-leafed gates—built of heavy, solid wood in the style of an old samurai mansion—never failed to intimidate me. While I was lost in thought, Yuji used the intercom built into the gatepost to contact the house and have them let us in. Since manually hauling open a gate of this weight was a grueling task, it was rigged to open electronically from the inside. We had to wait a moment for the mechanism to finish its work.
"Just getting inside is a chore, isn't it? I mean, look at this gate."
I still vividly remembered the first time Yuji brought me here, claiming it was his house. Given the sheer scale of the entrance, my immediate impression had been: What kind of yakuza estate is this? I was genuinely terrified back then. It felt nostalgic now to recall how I’d cringed and looked for an escape route while acting completely suspicious. That was exactly why I spoke as gently as possible to Hiiragi-san, who stood beside me, rigid with tension and swallowing hard. I kept my voice low so Yuji wouldn't overhear.
"Hiiragi-san. I know it’s probably asking too much, but you really don't need to be so nervous. No one from any 'Ya'-related professions is going to walk out of there."
"……I-I see. R-Right, of course."
"Just try to think of it as visiting a historical landmark turned tourist attraction. It might put your mind at ease."
Hmm, she wasn't relaxing at all. It seemed my words weren't doing much to help. Then again, it took me several visits to get used to this place myself, so I suppose I couldn't expect her to be fine on her first try.
As we waited, the gate began to swing inward with a heavy thud and the faint hum of a motor.
"What are you two doing? Hurry up and get in here!" Yuji called out from inside.
"Yeah, we're coming!"
I answered Yuji and then gave a light nudge to the back of Hiiragi-san, who was still too paralyzed by nerves to move. The push seemed to break her trance; though her steps were a bit shaky, she finally moved forward.
"Hey! Don't push me, Kokonoe-kun!"
"Sorry, sorry. But it didn't look like you were going to move unless I gave you a little nudge, Hiiragi-san."
"T-That’s not true!"
Hiiragi-san and I exchanged whispers as we stepped onto the grounds. Stepping stones and gravel were meticulously laid out along the path to the entrance, with ornamental pines and azaleas lining the way. The wide space, which doubled as a driveway, was a perfectly manicured display of traditional Japanese landscaping.
"……Is this really a private residence?"
"I don't blame you for asking, but unfortunately, this is definitely Yuji’s house."
"……I see."
Faced with the reality of Yuji’s family circumstances—which felt like a world apart from our own—Hiiragi-san let her gaze wander in a daze. I looked back on my own past reaction, which had been identical to hers, with a touch of weary nostalgia.
After walking down an entrance approach that stretched for over a dozen meters, we reached the one-story main house. We slid open the lattice-style doors and entered the foyer in a line: Yuji first, then me, then Hiiragi-san. We removed our shoes in the spacious entrance and followed Yuji toward his room, but even that was a trek. We traveled down a long wooden hallway for dozens of meters and crossed a covered walkway to a separate wing before finally reaching our destination.
Yuji slid open the paper-covered doors. Unlike the pure Japanese aesthetic of the rest of the estate, his room was a Western-style space of about ten tatami mats with wooden flooring.
"Well, make yourselves at home. I'll go grab some drinks."
Yuji dropped his bag on the desk and gestured for us to sit on the sofa before stepping out.
"……Who exactly is Hirose-kun?" Hiiragi-san asked in a dazed tone, still standing by the door.
"……According to him, he’s the heir to a long line of classical martial arts. Why?"
"……"
When I sat on the edge of the L-shaped sofa, she turned a silent, somewhat accusatory look toward me. I understood how she felt, but honestly, I didn't know much more than that myself.
We exchanged a long, awkward silence until Hiiragi-san finally gave in. Letting out a heavy sigh, she sat down next to me.
"……"
"……"
The silence was stifling. I wanted to break the tension, but I had no idea how to start. Hiiragi-san looked either displeased or entirely expressionless, and she seemed to be shutting down any attempt at conversation. We sat there in a stalemate of silence until our host finally returned.
"……What’s with you two? Why so quiet? It was so still I thought you’d gone home for a second."
Yuji entered with a tray of drinks. From the steam and the toasty aroma, I guessed it was hojicha. I was just glad his arrival gave me an opening to speak.
"No, it's nothing. Right, Hiiragi-san?"
"Yes. Nothing worth mentioning."
We both gave noncommittal replies. Yuji tilted his head in confusion but set the tea and some snacks on the table before sitting down. We thanked him and reached for the hojicha. The scent of the roasted leaves was incredibly soothing. After blowing on it a few times, I took a small sip.
"This tea is excellent."
"It is. The roasting is superb."
We both genuinely praised the drink. As Hiiragi-san noted, the roasting was the highlight; it hit that perfect, razor-thin line where the leaves were roasted right to the brink of charring. More than anything, the flavor was grounding. Hiiragi-san’s expression finally began to soften.
I wondered if a housekeeper had prepared this.
"Glad you like it. Makes the effort of brewing it worth it."
Wait, "effort of brewing it"? Did Yuji make this himself? If so, that was a massive surprise. Hiiragi-san looked just as stunned as I felt.
"You brewed this, Yuji?"
"Yeah. I roasted the leaves in a frying pan."
He answered so casually that it had to be the truth. The guy had some strange talents.
"Anyway, that doesn't matter. It looks like my gramps is over at the dojo right now. Once we finish our tea, let's go talk to him about getting those weapons."
"That’s why we’re here, so that works for me."
"I agree."
We finished our tea and followed Yuji’s lead. It was best to handle the difficult part of the day as quickly as possible.
Past a circular Japanese garden at the corner of the yard stood a magnificent earthen storehouse and an attached wooden dojo. The buildings felt heavy with history, boasting a scale that could easily accommodate a dozen practitioners without them bumping into one another. I had been to the house before, but this was the first time I'd ever stepped into this specific area.
"I'm home! Gramps, you in there!?"
Yuji called out, and a few seconds later, the sliding door to the dojo opened. A white-haired old man with a sharp, piercing gaze stood there, dressed in traditional work clothes.
"Oh, Yuji. You're back already?"
"Yeah."
"……Hm? Guests?"
The old man shifted his gaze toward Hiiragi-san and me. Even though I’d met him before, Juzo-san’s presence was as overwhelming as ever.
"It's been a while, sir."
"Um, hello... nice to meet you."
I gave a polite nod, while Hiiragi-san bowed deeply, her voice tight with nerves.
"Ah, the Kokonoe boy. It has been a long time. And…… Yuji, who is this young lady?"
"Let me introduce her. You know Daiki already, right, Gramps? This is Yukino Hiiragi-san. She's a classmate and a comrade who'll be exploring dungeons with me. And Hiiragi-san, this is my grandfather, Juzo Hirose. He's the grandmaster of our style and the reason I'm stuck going into dungeons."
"To call me the 'reason' is a bit ungrateful. But very well. A pleasure to meet you, Hiiragi girl. I am Hirose Juzo, the grandfather of this foolish boy."
Juzo-san gave a slight nod as he introduced himself. Yuji didn't seem to mind the "foolish boy" comment, clearly used to the treatment.
"So, what is it? Why bring them all the way to the dojo?"
"Actually, I have a favor to ask, Gramps."
"A favor?"
"Could you let us have some of the unused weapons from the storehouse?"
"……"
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Juzo-san’s already sharp eyes narrowed further. Yuji didn't flinch, meeting his grandfather’s gaze head-on. After a heavy silence, Juzo-san spoke.
"It seems you aren't asking on a whim. Tell me why."
"We can't buy weapons for the dungeon because we're under eighteen. But a private transfer of ownership is perfectly legal, so I want to take some of the gear from the storehouse."
" "……" "
The two stared each other down again. After an even longer silence, Juzo-san’s expression finally relaxed.
"Fine. Is it for these two as well?"
"Yeah. They're in the same boat."
"……Very well. Wait here."
Juzo-san turned and went back into the dojo.
The negotiation was a success. Yuji let out a quiet sigh of relief. Honestly, I was impressed he hadn't buckled under Juzo-san’s stare. Good work, Yuji.
A few minutes later, Juzo-san returned with a heavy ring of keys.
"Come. Follow me."
He led us to the storehouse next to the dojo. It was an old structure with white-plastered walls, looking incredibly solid and reinforced. The iron-plated door was secured with a massive padlock that looked like it would laugh at any common tool. Juzo-san selected a key, but instead of using the obvious keyhole on the front, he flipped the padlock over, slid back a decorative cover, and inserted the key there.
As Hiiragi-san and I watched in awe, Yuji whispered an explanation.
"It’s a trick lock. The front keyhole is a dummy. No matter how long a thief spends trying to pick it, they’ll never get anywhere. Old-school security, basically."
We were both impressed. It was a simple but effective trick; anyone would naturally try to use the most obvious opening. People in the past were surprisingly clever.
The padlock clicked open, and the thick, iron-plated door swung outward.
"Go on, get inside."
Following Juzo-san’s lead, we entered the storehouse. It was pitch black at first, but once the fluorescent lights hummed to life, the interior proved to be surprisingly spacious. Shelves and wooden boxes were meticulously organized, and the space was packed with items that looked like museum-quality antiques. As we looked around in wonder, Juzo-san spoke up from behind us.
"Well? What do you think?"
"It’s incredible. That’s all I can really say."
"Yes, me too."
Juzo-san chuckled at our stunned reactions. I felt like anyone would react that way if they were suddenly shown a place like this.
"Never mind that. The weaponry is on the second floor. Head up those stairs."
He pointed to a corner where a wooden staircase sat at a dangerously steep angle—it was practically a ladder. Yuji went up first, followed by me, Hiiragi-san, and finally Juzo-san. I felt like I might slip at any moment, but we made it to the second floor, which was filled with boxes and a wall covered by a large cloth. Yuji moved with practiced ease to pull the cloth away.
"Whoa..."
"Oh my..."
A massive array of weaponry was revealed, lining the entire wall. There were swords and spears, bows, matchlock guns, and even foreign armaments. We both stared, breathless, as the various weapons reflected the fluorescent light with a cold, dull gleam. It was a literal exhibition of arms from every era and region.
"So? What do you think of the collection I’ve been building all these years?"
Juzo-san appeared at the top of the stairs with a triumphant grin. It seemed the sheer variety here was entirely his doing. As a personal collection, it was staggering.
"Our school's roots are in battlefield arts, so we must be able to counter an enemy no matter what they carry. 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will never be defeated.' As part of my research, I’ve gathered almost everything I could get my hands on. Now, tell me—which ones are you taking?"
As Juzo-san asked the question, the weight of the weapons surrounding us seemed to grow even heavier.