Light From Uncommon Stars(41)

“Yes, Miss Satomi?”

“I realize you are wondering how you will pay me back. We shall start finding that answer tomorrow.”

“Yes, Miss Satomi. Thank you, Miss Satomi!”

Shizuka watched her new student run upstairs, just as Astrid walked in with two huge slices of pie.



* * *



That night, Shizuka viewed more videos. Of course, she found her students. And there were contemporaries—other competitors and classmates, both successful and not so successful. And, in sometimes blurry, sometimes black-and-white footage, were performances of her predecessors and mentors, as well. There was even an old clip of Mr. Grossmueller.

Shizuka had told Lan that she had never really needed the Internet. She had told Katrina that even in Tokyo, her life had never encountered technology, anime, and video games.

But she was not being completely honest, was she? Of course she had known about the Internet.

There was another reason, wasn’t there?

Yes, amongst all the musicians, composers, and players recorded here, Shizuka Satomi’s music was absent. And yes, in many ways, this might seem devastating.

But Shizuka thought of the day she had first met Katrina in the park. Listening to Katrina play Schradieck, of all things, reminded Shizuka of a yearning, a hunger that she had felt even before her last appearance onstage.

That even before Tremon, or contracts with Hell—Shizuka Satomi had been alone.

It hurts to lose one’s music. However, it is far worse to play a music that one can never share.

But now?

Shizuka thought of her last soul and the music she played. That soul was fast asleep in the bedroom down the hall.

Thanks to that soul, Shizuka Satomi’s music might never be alone again.

Charity? Tremon was an idiot for even suggesting it.

Shizuka would teach Katrina Nguyen everything she could, give her whatever she needed to realize her music, her voice.

And Shizuka would never forget her, even when the seventh student was gone.

Shizuka thought of the game that Katrina had told her about, The NetherTale. It was set in a Hell with a non-killing route, in a Hell where a player might actually make friends.

Such a sweet idea, wasn’t it?

But that was not how one saved souls, especially when the soul one was saving was one’s own.

Shizuka listened to Katrina’s video. She found the original soundtrack to The NetherTale. She went back to Katrina’s video once more.

She laid her head on her pillow and turned off her lights.

In the honesty of darkness, the Queen of Hell listened, and listened again.





14


Crap!

Katrina woke up, washed up, and rushed downstairs. Astrid had breakfast ready. It was sort of like sushi, but stuffed with pickled mustard greens, raclette cheese, and German liver sausage.

“Miss Satomi is already waiting. She said please eat, but don’t dally.”

Katrina tried to stuff the breakfast sushi lengthwise down her throat.

Astrid pushed her into a chair.

“Early or late, choking to death is rarely constructive.”

Somehow, Katrina managed to both chew her food and finish in ten minutes. She gulped down her lemonade, washed her hands, and rushed downstairs.

“Oh no!”

Katrina dashed back upstairs and returned with Martha.

When she finally entered the practice hall, Miss Satomi was peering at her laptop.

“So, these players—they all play into cameras and post their videos?”

Katrina nodded.

“And this is the number of people who watch?”

“The number of views, Miss Satomi. Someone can watch more than once.”

“I see. But still, some numbers are in the hundreds of thousands? Millions?”

“Yes,” Katrina said.

“And this is what you want to do.”

“Yes!”

Her teacher didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. What had she been thinking? Miss Satomi was a classical music teacher. She probably didn’t even see this as real music at all.

“I—I mean, if I could have some people watch these videos, I could find my own place to live and maybe even get health insurance.” Katrina flailed. “I—I mean, I know it’s just gaming music, but—”

“This one has seven million views…”

“Miss Satomi?”

“Very well. Now that you’re finally here, let’s compare these videos with your own.”

Shizuka watched Katrina squirm. From what Shizuka could tell, Katrina had received two types of feedback: unabashed praise from her group instructor, and unspeakable negativity from her father. Neither was conducive to learning.

To grow, the girl would need constructive criticism. Shizuka played a clip that she had found interesting.

“Tell me about this one. Are we in Hell again?”

“No, this is the victory theme from Axxiom. It’s a world-builder game.”

“A what?”

“It simulates the creation of universes by changing physical laws and constants.”

Creation of universes? These games were nothing if not ambitious.

“This is the victory theme? Then why are you hunched?”

“M-Miss Satomi?”

“That is not how to play a victory theme. Your posture should be, well, victorious. And here, do you notice that you’re sliding? And here, your timing is off.”