The morning in Kyoto was crisp and clear, the sunlight casting soft golden hues on the quiet streets of Uji. Phuby stood just outside the modest farmhouse nestled on the recently purchased countryside land parcel. The structure was humble—aged wood panels, a weather-worn tiled roof, and a soft layer of moss clinging to the sides. But to Phuby, it was a canvas.
He was not alone. Om Luky and Mr. Haruki, Hana's father, joined him after breakfast. With folders tucked under their arms and purpose in their stride, the three men headed toward the Uji Town Hall, ready to finalize the official documents regarding the land and begin the next phase—job postings and renovations.
Inside the town hall, the process moved swiftly thanks to Haruki's fluent Japanese and familiarity with the local bureaucracy. Phuby, sitting beside him, listened carefully and signed every form with focused attention. Since the people involved here weren't part of the system, all legal procedures had to be done manually—no documents appeared magically. This was real-world work.
They registered the land parcel under Phuby's name, documented the plan to renovate the farmhouse, and outlined the future agricultural activities. More importantly, they filled out and submitted forms to open several local job vacancies. These included:
Two full-time caretaker positions for the farmhouse after renovation.
Two to three farmhands to manage the tea or vegetable garden they planned to establish.
Optional part-time maid services to help with cleaning and seasonal tasks.
A clerk kindly offered to publish the listings on the town's community job board and circulate them in nearby towns. The process, all done in-person with traditional bureaucracy, took hours but concluded with warm smiles and polite bows.
From the town hall, the trio traveled across the city to the edge of Uji, where modern design studios and heritage renovation companies coexisted. Haruki led them into a cozy, modern building with a bamboo-lined path leading to the front door. On the glass plaque: Tanaka Architecture & Restoration.
They were greeted by a middle-aged man with sharp features, silver-streaked hair tied neatly, and a calm but firm demeanor. Haruki greeted him warmly.
"Atsushi Tanaka," Haruki introduced, turning to Phuby and Luky. "Old friend. We were in university together. He specializes in traditional homes."
"It's a pleasure," Tanaka said, bowing slightly. "Haruki has told me about your project. A countryside retreat that blends the modern and the traditional. That's my favorite kind of work."
Phuby smiled, grateful for the instant rapport. "I'd like to preserve the soul of the farmhouse, but I also want it to be fully off-grid. Solar panels, battery backup, maybe a water well. Internet, soundproofed rooms, and even a cozy entertainment area in the basement."
Tanaka's eyes glinted with interest. "Ambitious. But very doable. Especially in this part of Uji, where you have space to work with."
They spent the next hour going through sketches and discussing what needed to be done: structural reinforcement, full electrical rework, plumbing overhaul, interior redesign, traditional roof repairs, and the addition of an entertainment basement with a karaoke section and soundproofing.
"I'll draw up the schematics and provide a detailed renovation estimate by tomorrow," Tanaka promised. "But off the top of my head, for all of that… somewhere around ¥18 million. Around Rp 2.035.000.000."
Phuby nodded. He had expected the amount. "That's within my budget. Once I review the estimate, I'll give the green light."
Om Luky, who had remained mostly quiet, smiled. "From a simple bakery to buying land in Japan… kid, you've come a long way."
Phuby chuckled. "It's all thanks to good people around me."
Tanaka then offered to visit the farmhouse site the next day to take measurements and do a site inspection. The appointment was locked in, and with all the necessary local paperwork now filed, the men stepped out into the fading afternoon sun with light hearts.
As they walked back to the parking area, Haruki nudged Phuby.
"You know," he said, "you're starting to think like someone who's building not just a home… but a legacy."
Phuby didn't answer immediately. He simply looked toward the hills of Uji in the distance, imagining the land a year from now—bustling with green life, a modern farmhouse, and family memories growing like the crops they would plant.
He smiled. "Let's make it happen."