A small cog rolls along the edge of the workbench and is caught in Haru's palm. Magnifying goggles gleam amidst his auburn curly hair, and fresh oil stains are smeared across his striped sleeves. From Scrap Hill behind him, metal plates swaying in the wind clink brightly.
He places two parts side by side. One is shiny and smooth, while the other faintly retains an old bird emblem. The moment he sees the emblem, his playful hands pause.