The room Blossom led me to was a large, tatami-matted space that served as a reception room, offering a wide view of the garden. She stepped out for a moment to prepare some tea, leaving me to examine my surroundings.
It was a quintessential Japanese-style room, right down to the layout of the mats. Hanging scrolls, suits of armor, several katanas, and folding fans inscribed with calligraphy adorned the walls and corners.
The garden outside was clearly modeled after a traditional Japanese landscape. It featured a manicured gravel yard, pine-like trees, stalks of what looked like bamboo, a large pond, and even a shishi-odoshi water fountain.
It was clear she’d put a tremendous amount of effort into it, yet the overall effect felt cluttered. Whether it was the room or the garden, it felt as though she had simply taken every traditional Japanese element she could think of and tried to display them all at once.
Regarding the hanging scrolls, they weren't too bad. One was inscribed with the character for "Wait." I didn't quite grasp the deeper meaning she intended with that single word—perhaps she simply liked the aesthetic—but the calligraphy itself was well-executed.
The katanas were fine, too. In fact, Japanese swords were quite popular in this world because of the fame of the First Hero. Her popularity was truly immense. Even Sigma, whom I’d met during that business with Megiddo, had apparently taken up the katana out of pure admiration for the First Hero’s legendary deeds. I suppose the story of a human defeating a Count-class high-ranking demon was an irresistible epic for those who lived for battle, especially the War King’s subordinates.
However, the armor and the fans felt like overkill. The armor in particular was massive, making the room feel cramped and overbearing.
The garden suffered from the same issue. It was so busy that I couldn't find a central theme. While it was obvious she had been meticulous and deeply invested in the project, it had the distinct vibe of a Japanese garden designed by a self-proclaimed enthusiast from another country—someone who loved the culture but didn't quite understand the underlying philosophy.
I wasn't exactly an expert myself, but I definitely felt like something was "off."
Noin’s place, for instance—though that was a full residence rather than just a room—was practically perfect. Her garden was simple and minimalist, built around the singular concept of sitting on the veranda to enjoy a cup of tea.
In contrast, Blossom’s garden felt like she had tried to serve an "all-you-can-eat" buffet of Japanese culture. I could tell how much she loved it, but...
"Thank you for waiting, Miyama-dono! It is but coarse tea!"
"Oh, thank you very much."
Setting aside the question of whether one should declare their tea was "nothing special" with such booming intensity, Blossom seemed to be having the time of her life.
"How do you find it? This humble one’s room and garden?"
"Yes, you've clearly put a lot of work into it. You're quite knowledgeable about Japan... I mean, the otherworld, aren't you, Blossom-san?"
"Indeed! To me, it is the home of my heart!"
"I see."
She really did seem to love the otherworld. I wondered if it was because she was a cherry blossom spirit? Her obsession was certainly intense.
"...At any rate, you have a lot of swords displayed here. Four... no, five of them. Blossom-san, you must really..."
"As I thought, you noticed!"
"Huh?"
"Yes, just as you suspected! This humble one is a Samurai!!"
"...I... see."
She cut me off and suddenly shouted something that made no sense. I was just about to ask if she liked swords; the whole "samurai" claim was brand new information to me.
"As expected of Miyama-dono, a native of the original otherworld! To think you could tell instantly! Perhaps I have finally become worthy of the title! Of course, I am still far from being a master."
"Y-Yeah, I guess. You certainly look the part."
To be honest, she looked more like a "swordplay beauty" than a grizzled samurai. She had a certain Japanese aura similar to Noin’s, but given how delighted she was, she clearly had her heart set on the samurai label.
"Tell me, Miyama-dono! What do I lack to become a top-tier samurai? Do I need a more traditional way of speaking? More discipline?"
"Umm, well..."
She was incredibly pushy. Honestly, I didn't know the first thing about being a samurai. If she wanted to know about speech patterns, the best I could offer was the vague idea that "Sessha" sounded a bit like a ninja.
However, facing her wide-eyed gaze of pure expectation, I felt I had to say something. I decided to stick to a harmless platitude.
"I-I don’t think you need to worry too much about your tone. Simply mimicking the form doesn't make one top-tier. Besides... I think a samurai speaks with his blade, not his mouth."
"!?"
She looked as though I had just struck her with lightning. Blossom wore her heart on her sleeve; even without Sympathy Magic, her emotions were written all over her face.
"What... accurate and profound words..."
"Eh? No, I wouldn't call them profound..."
"I see! So that is it! Lilliwood-sama would never hold a mere person in such high regard without reason. I knew you were extraordinary, Miyama-dono, but I see it now... You are... a Samurai Master!!"
"...No, I’m really not."
The conversation had taken a bizarre turn. She was leaving me in the dust, sprinting at full speed toward a conclusion that made absolutely no sense.
I already had enough strange titles as it was; I really didn't need another one.
Serious-senpai: "She’s quite the character... but at least she isn't genuinely dangerous like those other weirdos."