It was a clear, sunny day.

Guest stood looking up at the weathered nameplate that read "Kageyama," clutching a large backpack and a paper bag that was slightly overflowing. After hesitating for a moment, you steeled your resolve and reached for the intercom.

Along with the cheerful electronic chime of the doorbell, shouting could be heard from inside the house.

It seemed the three brothers were already in the middle of a squabble inside. Then, as if to break through the din, the front door swung open with force.