Yamato knows what disaster sounds like:
It sounds like his brother's building blocks toppling over, brushing against one another during the short distance to the floor, where gravity wants to break everything on contact if the object is heavy and fragile enough.
It sounds like a dive, like glittering water splashing and then calming.
It sounds like a repressed shriek of some type of emotion that can potentially damage your nervous system, and leave you seeing in black and white.
It sounds like footsteps, like a winter jacket being zipped.
It sounds like two adults with anger dancing in their whispers after his bedtime.
It sounds like his guitar sometimes.
But mostly it sounds like his mother's voice over the phone every year when she calls him on his birthday at approximately the same time his lungs first heaved a cry and she held him, and tragedy looks a lot like the expression on Natsuko's when Yamato takes a step back when she reaches out for a hug.