Thin clouds drift between the brass wind chimes hanging all over the ceiling. Wearing a white robe, Maru places a hand to his ear and tilts his head. The small bells attached to his shawl chime against each other until he cups them in his palms, making them fall silent.
He unfolds an empty observation chart on the low table. One side has a diagram of the wind chimes' positions, while the other side has space left for the instruments. The steam rising from the teacup leans down toward the mountain rather than toward the door.