Asami isn't normally much of a recluse, but tonight she's lingering by the windows, having only parted from them long enough to take a glass of what is probably red wine, though in this world she wouldn't know for sure. She's in a short-sleeved red qipao, left arm tucked beneath her right, watching the city lights glinting even out beyond the river in the distance.

Anyone who knew Asami particularly well would also know a sight like this is something likely to light her mind up like a firework. But it's not too obvious otherwise – she watches the cars below and the twinkling of distant windows with an interested but somewhat detached expression, rather than the look of someone surveying what they've never seen before.