This home is not built — it is crafted. Shaped by a Miyadaiku, a master carpenter devoted to the sacred art of Japanese wooden architecture. Their work demands harmony rather than force; each joint, each grain of wood, chosen with reverence. Without relying on nails, they weave strength through precision — a dialogue between wood and spirit that has endured for centuries.

Step through the grand entrance — rare in modern homes — and you’ll sense the same scale once reserved for temples and shrines. Beneath your feet, uguisubari floors sing softly with each step, echoing the whispers of Kyoto’s Nijo Castle.

Above, the transom — carved from a single piece of wood — bears the mark of an artisan’s soul. Every beam, every fragrance of cedar and cypress, is a hymn to Fukui’s craft and the beauty of restraint.

Long ago, this land was a koi farm during the Edo period — a place where life moved gently with the flow of spring water. Each koi was raised with care and intention, embodying the patience of those who tended them.

Echoes of that past remain within these walls. Look closely — you’ll find koi motifs in the roof tiles, in carved wooden details, and in the quiet corners of the house. They are traces of time, a silent bridge between what was and what is.

In Japanese folklore, the koi is not merely a fish — it is the being that dares to ascend the Dragon Gate. Through struggle and flow, it becomes the dragon — a symbol of transformation and transcendence.

SOLAGOI — 宙鯉 — inherits that spirit. It is a home for transitions: a place to pause, reflect, and rise toward the next chapter of your life with calm determination. Where tradition meets intention, and where the koi, once bound to water, begins its quiet ascent into the sky.