432 Hz.
The graph beneath it was the most stable on the wall. The smooth line was beautiful here - clean, even, every arc identical to the next, every period perfectly measured. The page felt almost peaceful to look at, the way the Ukai's Ruler's music was peaceful, the way certain spaces in nature are peaceful for reasons that have less to do with their components than with their proportions.
And the sharp line, on the same page, was the second-most violent on the wall. Aggressive. Cutting upward and downward in jagged spikes that had nothing to do with the smooth line's calm.
Raizen breathed out. Slowly.
He'd seen that smooth line before. The memory came up from somewhere deep, slowly, the way memories surface when the brain has been refusing to retrieve them and finally gives up.
