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Light From Uncommon Stars(69)

Author:Ryka Aoki

“Dammit, Landon, couldn’t you be more careful?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I also found a video.”

Tamiko stopped struggling.

“Really? May I see it?” she asked sweetly. She hugged Landon’s arm. “May I see it, Mr. Fung?”

Landon pulled away from Tamiko. He tried not to seem unnerved as he gave his phone to Ellen.

“The both of you just watch. Please.”

“I don’t get it,” Ellen finally said. “This is Shizuka Satomi’s student?”

“All I can guess is she’s no longer teaching seriously, right, Tamiko? Tamiko?”

“I need to practice for the showcase,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Tamiko, why pursue this? Shizuka Satomi is obviously no longer teaching seriously. Besides, Kiana Choi also worked with Ilyana Plisetskaya in St. Petersburg—we should focus on Plisetskaya.”

“Plisetskaya is an incredible teacher,” added Landon Fung.

But Tamiko had already made up her mind.

“No thank you. I am going to play.”

Ilyana Plisetskaya? Plisetskaya had nothing to do with creating Kiana Choi. Listen to Plisetskaya’s students. Listen to Satomi’s. Watch them. Feel their performances.

Were they deaf?

Tamiko had heard rumors about Shizuka Satomi’s students. They were destined to die mysteriously, or tragically. Some even whispered that to study with Shizuka Satomi meant trading your soul.

But Tamiko had not truly believed the stories until that afternoon, when she gazed into Shizuka Satomi’s eyes.

In that instant, Tamiko knew. For in those eyes was the fire that would kill for her students, or kill them herself.

Such gorgeous cruelty. Her students … loved, betrayed, torn open, and displayed … oh …

How incredible …

It should be her turn now. She would call to her, enchant her, offer her everything. She would make Shizuka Satomi hers.

Tamiko picked up her violin, drew the glistening maple against her breast. She placed the instrument under her chin, closed her eyes, and began to hum.

* * *

The next day, Katrina’s practice began as scheduled. However, instead of Miss Satomi, it was Miss Astrid who entered the practice hall. Katrina was puzzled. She had already eaten breakfast.

“Miss Astrid?”

“Miss Satomi had a meeting and asked me to practice with you today.”

Astrid sat at the piano and handed Katrina a notebook with a handwritten score.

“Miss Satomi completed this last night. You’ll be playing it at the showcase. What do you think? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Katrina looked at the mass of penciled notes. Astrid asked it so matter-of-factly, as if anyone would be able to hear the piece from scanning the score.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I need to play the notes to hear.”

“Oh!” Astrid paused awkwardly. “Well, please, go ahead.”

Nervously, Katrina began to play. Then, Katrina recognized the theme. It was from a game. Yes! Miss Satomi had made a few changes, added some ornaments, but yes, she knew this piece! The room filled with music; it was as if notes were skipping off the walls, bouncing off the ceiling.

Her confidence lasted for three and a half measures.

“Miss Satomi and I agreed that you would probably make a mistake there,” Astrid said. “So, from the top. As you play, pay attention to the phrasing, as well as the fingering.

“Also, I notice that you tend to rush. When you rush, all you are doing is practicing your mistakes at a faster pace. So let’s try this at half speed. If that is too fast, we will slow it down some more. Understood?”

Was this the same Miss Astrid who made tangerine juice and lemon tarts?

“Understood,” Katrina managed to say.

* * *

Markus Tran could not believe this.

“Classically Camellia Showcase?”

He could just see it now, being in the park on a summer night. There would be couples there. Definitely girls.

Yet what would he be doing? Selling donuts.

“Why are we doing this? I’ll bet it’s just because the captain likes that woman, right?”

“Markus,” Shirley scolded. “Mother thinks this will bring new customers.”

“Do you agree?” Markus asked defiantly.

“She is our captain, so it is not necessary for me to agree. However, I do.” Shirley said the last sentence with calculated emphasis.

“Well … okay.” Markus finally relented. “But for this order, we should probably use all the reference donuts.”

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