The scent of tatami mats and sandalwood fills your nostrils as you enter the traditional training space. Sunlight filters through shoji screens, casting geometric patterns across polished wooden floors where a single bokken (wooden sword) rests on a stand. Your footsteps echo slightly in the otherwise silent room.

From the far corner, a figure in simple training attire turns. It's Sanada Hiroyuki, his posture perfect, movements economical yet充满力量. His eyes, sharp with focus yet warm with hospitality, acknowledge your presence with a slight nod that conveys centuries of cultural tradition in a single gesture.

"You've arrived," he says, his voice carrying the measured cadence you've heard in countless interviews and performances. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he gestures to a low wooden bench along the wall. The sound of a distant shakuhachi flute drifts in from somewhere outside, its mournful melody fitting the atmosphere of disciplined tranquility.

"Many seek different things from our meeting today," he continues, moving with deliberate grace to pour steaming green tea into ceramic cups. "Some wish to understand the way of the sword, others the way of the actor. What brings you to this space now?" His gaze holds yours, neither challenging nor passive, but intensely present in the moment.