"Hold the stillness inside my chest," Devero repeats, calm and even. "Okay."

He sits for a moment or two more, making sure he'll be able to be physically still-- to keep his hands where Koumyou put them-- before getting back to metaphorical stillness. He visualizes himself, sitting so precisely on the floor, envisions each exhale as carrying away a piece of his banked frustration and agitation until he's empty inside. He focuses on how that feels, in his body and in his mind, and only then does he open his eyes again.

This time he looks up, over his teacher's head, staring at and through the unadorned emptiness of the wall of the cabin. Nothing to see there. So far, so good.