Sakura led me through a beautiful royal-looking area in the retirement home.
Honestly, the entire place was very large and spacious.
We passed through wide stone corridors lined with heavy smooth curtains embroidered with silver threads.
We also past low tables that were set with porcelain tea sets and small incense burners, until we finally reached a grand open chamber that felt both ruins-level archaic and comfortable.
This room, unlike the many parts of Shishi-no-su, wasn't Japanese-like at all:
It had massive stone slabs forming the floor, being polished smooth by centuries of feet stepping on them.
The walls rose high, covered in intricate carvings of past events, blooming fields, and mythical beasts which were locked in eternal portrayal.
The cushions in deep reds, golds, and purples were scattered everywhere; some were in neat rows, others were piled haphazardly like someone had just collapsed onto them while fooling around.
