[color=A9A9A9][h2]Central District[/h2][/color][indent]
Hiroyuki nodded, mentally tallying Iwao's vote in, before waiting for anyone else to speak up. Ten seconds passed. Thirty seconds. A whole minute. He raised a brow, scrutinizing the others, then shrugged. [b]"Well, Yajirui-Kan it is,"[/b] the sharply dressed man said without much ceremony. [b]"Let's get going, neh?"[/b]

Placing his own bowl in the kitchen sink, he slipped the manila folder into his dark, leather bag, visited the refrigerator for a couple bottles of chilled spring water, and waited for the others by the door. It took various shufflings of possessions and toilet visits before everyone was good to go, but once they were, the group moved with relative unison. After a couple months of these sorts of trips, they fell into predictable clumps. Hiroyuki helming the front with Sayuri. Otoya meandering about as he wished. Fumiko trailing behind at a respectful distance. Aya being a curious nuisance who scrambled to catch up once her detours caused her to lag behind. And then there was Mochizuki, chatting with Iwao in the middle of the pack, just two dudes bonding over lacking aspirations and romances.

Not today though. Today, Iwao walked alone, the spring in his step counteracted by the quiet that dominated his vicinity. Cicadas cried in the shadows of trees, and the sea crashed against the shores in the distance, the sounds of nature slowly gradating into the sounds of civilization as they walked deeper into the heart of the Central District. A group of young men and women nodded at them as they passed by, their formal attire and Bibles marking them out as the small Protestant denomination that met up every Sunday for worship. A salaryman, newspaper over his face, snored loudly on the bench of an inner-city park, still sleeping off last night's drunkeness. Taxis, as well as an athletic woman pulling a rickshaw, waited for customers, but the weather wasn't bad enough and the time not urgent enough to require their services yet. For the Urban Exploration Club, the train line would do anyhow. They stepped underground, enjoyed the roar of cold, dry wind as the automated announcer spoke up, and took a short ride to the glitzy suburbs of the Northwestern District.
[/indent][color=A9A9A9][h2]Northwestern District[/h2][/color][indent]
It had been a steep walk up to where the closed-down ryokan was situated, but there was respite to be found in the plum trees lining the path up, at least. Stone stairs were cut into the side of the hill, a total of twenty-two steps before they reached the top, and the view that was provided to the group as they turned around was...rather mundane, really. Taking shelter in the shade, Hiroyuki twisted open one of the water bottles he brought along, sipping at it calmly, and then handed it to Sayuri to share. For all his many layers of fashionable clothing, he hadn't sweated at all during the stair-climbing. Was he secretly a badass with bombass glutes?!

Probably not. He wasn't the good Captain, after all.

Up close, Yajirui-Kan looked like any of the other old buildings that one may have once seen in the Northwestern District. The wind carried the suggestion of cypress wood, and the front of the entrance held the shadow of the establishment's nameplate. Two stories tall with a tiled roof that peaked upwards, it held all the charm and homeliness of any multi-generational storefront, marred with garrish plywood planks nailed over any conceivable entrance. Rather than looking haunted or anything, it just looked despondent. Too old to survive the era, too distant to be renovated like the rest of them. Hiroyuki let out a whistle, and circled around the back, motioning the others over.

Behind, after ignoring the 'No Trespassing' sign and vaulting over the yellowed bamboo wall, the group landed in a disheveled Zen garden, the sand and gravel long having lost their orderly patterns and lines. Plywood still boarded up the windows here, but one of the doors, leading perhaps to a hallway or corridor, was left exposed. Holes where nails had once been pounded in marked the frame of the sliding door, and when tested, it didn't offer any resistance either. It did end up opening to a ground-level hallway with old signs pointing to the direction of the bathroom, the dining area, and the lobby, as well as the staircase leading to the private bedrooms. The notes had pointed out the existence of a small attic (perhaps in the space of the peaked roof?) and a cellar (promising the possibility of real 'treasure) as well.

[b]"Well, I'll watch our escape. Everyone's got their phones, yeah?"[/b] Hiroyuki waited for an answer, but didn't seem all that concerned either way. [b]"Have fun, y'all. Hit me up if you find a hidden room, please."[/b]
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