With the door to her room shut, Rinko sat at her piano. After the performance, the rest of her day felt like it had crawled past. She wanted to get to her piano, wanted to hear it for herself.

Rinko stared down at her hands, which were poised on the keys. The sheet music was in front of her, turned to the page she had marked.

Those words, play lighter, were written above one of the measures.

Rinko had been rolling it around in her mind all day, contemplating just how to achieve it.

How could she even know if she'd succeeded, if she didn't notice the problem in the first place?

She played a few measures slowly, listening carefully to each note. Rinko kept her hands lighter than usual on the keys, trying to find the sound she sought.

It did sound lighter than earlier, but she was focusing solely on that. She was listening specifically for it, holding her hands in just the right way to achieve it. She wouldn't be able to perform the whole song like this.

Rinko wondered if she should try something else. She took her phone out of her pocket and opened the camera app. She then set on the top of the keyboard with the camera facing the keys.

After a moment of setting the sheet music in the right spot, Rinko was ready to go. She hit record on the phone and started to play.

She played through the entire movement, just like she had earlier that day. Rinko tried to play the same way as before, without dwelling on the feedback she'd received. She tried to get her head in the music, to feel the flow of the piece.

It was easier said than done, but as she finished the movement she hoped she had achieved it. Rinko hit the button on her phone to stop the recording, then fetched her headphones.

Now she could listen for herself, far more objectively than while she was playing, to try to find what her professor had heard.

Rinko steadied her hand and hit play. As she listened, she heard it. The notes, which should've been mostly light and airy, carried a slight weight to them. If she were an amateur, this kind of error would be expected. For a professional though, for someone with years and years of piano experience, she should've known better.

It was the wrong way to play this piece.

She listened to the rest, making note of another small error she noticed. So now she could hear the problem, but that didn't tell her how to fix it.

Rinko sighed as the song ended, taking off her headphones. She went to put them away in her desk, back in the drawer where they belonged.

Surprisingly, an icon on her computer screen was flashing on the task bar. It must've pinged earlier, but she couldn't hear it over the recording.

It was her instant messaging program, the one she used to chat online about video games. She talked to Ako on there and a few people she met in NFO. They were even part of a server that organized NFO raids.

There was a small number 2 on the icon, which meant she had two messages.

It was probably Ako. Even though she knew she should've ignored it, since she was in the middle of practicing, Rinko clicked the icon. As expected, Ako's icon appeared with the same small 2 next to it.

"Hi Rin-Rin!" was what the first message said. The second one read, "Wanna play NFO?"

Immediately, Rinko's heart sank. She hadn't had time to play video games with Ako all week. They usually logged on together a couple days a week, but with her new schoolwork she didn't have time.

Rinko typed back to her, "I'm so sorry, I have to practice tonight (T_T)"

Within seconds, the application showed that Ako was typing back. "No worries!" She replied, enthusiastic as always. "I'll vanquish the monsters in your place!"

"I should be able to this weekend." Rinko offered in reply, though she didn't know that for sure.

"Yay!" Ako typed back. She paused her typing for a moment, and then asked, "Did your teacher like the song today?"

This brought a smile to Rinko's face; she told Ako about performance when it was assigned. It was nice that she remembered. "It went pretty well (* ^ ω ^)." That was only partly a lie. After she hit enter though, having sent the message gave Rinko a bad feeling. "Ako-chan, do you ever get stuck?"

"What do you mean?" Ako's reply came quickly.

Rinko frowned now, choosing her words carefully. "When you can't play the sound you want."

As the screen indicated that Ako was typing, Rinko wondered if she shouldn't have asked. "All the time!" Was the reply she received, a soothing one.

"How do you overcome it?" This was what Rinko really wanted to know.

"Hmm, well when my sound is bad it's because I'm wayyyy too excited." Ako didn't wait for a response between her messages. "When I rush too much, Lisa-nee taps her toe." Rinko had noticed Lisa tapping when the tempo fluctuated. "If I see that, I know I'm doing something wrong. I count in my head to bring the power of darkness back to the drums!"

In her mind, Rinko could imagine the pose Ako struck with those words. By counting the beats, Ako was pulling herself away from emotional playing and returning to the fundamentals. It was good advice, something Rinko needed to do too.

"Thank you, that helps a lot ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ."

"No problem!"

Rinko typed out a few more messages, telling Ako she needed to keep practicing. Ako replied that she was going to play NFO. They both said goodbye, before Rinko went back to her keyboard.

She thought about returning to the fundamentals. For the piano, that looked different than on the drums. Tempo wasn't the problem, no, the issue was with technique.

Talking with Ako had helped and now Rinko had a plan. First, she would practice playing passages of the piece with emphasis on playing lightly. Then, she would practice playing it all the way through. While she did, she would stay focused on her technique. As much as she enjoyed immersing herself in the music, that wasn't going to work for this piece.

Rinko needed to separate her feelings from the music, and instead represent the spirit that the composer intended.

With that thought in mind, Rinko chose a passage to start working on. She recorded it so she could listen after.

As she played each passage, Rinko refined her technique. It became easier to match and maintain that light style, as long as she remained focused on it.

When she listened back to the recordings, it still wasn't perfect. It was better though, which was a good start.

Rinko kept working on it that evening, and even more the next day. She continued focusing on the technique, on playing the song the best she could.

It was Saturday, 12:30 pm on the dot. Rinko was once again at the school building, the same place she'd been multiple times over the last week. She didn't need the map to get there.

Today she felt ready.

Rinko followed the arrows inside to the room marked 104, where Nakamura said she would be. The door was shut when she arrived, and voices could be heard faintly from inside.

Another student must've already been there. Rinko sat down on a nearby bench to wait, setting her piano case down on the ground. The song raced through her mind, playing itself on repeat. Her hands held on to the needed technique, to how it felt to glide across the keys.

She only had to wait about five minutes, before the door opened. As she thought, another student had been inside. They left and vanished down the hall, leaving the door propped open behind them.

Rinko stood, gathering her keyboard case off the ground, and stepped through the door.

This room was much smaller than the one upstairs, more like an office than a classroom. There was a single desk inside with a couple of chairs. An award of some kind was hung on the back wall. Nakamura sat at the desk, writing something on a piece of paper. She glanced up as Rinko approached.

"Close the door." She instructed, setting her pen down on the desk. She also removed her glasses, which she'd been wearing.

Rinko complied, shutting the door before taking a seat. She started unpacking her keyboard, setting it up in front of her. This time Nakamura didn't watch. Instead, she gathered the few papers on her desk and put them away.

Once Rinko had her keyboard and music stand set up, she looked back at Nakamura.

"Go ahead."

Rinko turned to her keyboard, bringing her hands up to the keys.

She started to play, deliberate with each note. As the song progressed, she stayed focused on the weight she put into her hands and the contrast between the notes. She used the technique she'd spent the last couple days practicing, channeling her skills into this piece.

Rinko didn't allow herself to get lost in the flow of the music, didn't allow the music to carry her.

No, she was the one directing it. Each note was carefully played, deliberately delivered.

When Rinko reached the end of the song, she slowly brought her hands back down from the keyboard. She looked again at Nakamura, who's expression hadn't changed.

"What changed since your last performance?" Nakamura asked, leaning back in her chair with her hands together.

The question, which should've been easy to answer, carried a surprising weight to it. If she was just asking about the song, then the answer was Rinko played it more lightly. That didn't seem to be what she wanted to know though. Nakamura's eyes were unwavering as she waited for a response.

"I-I worked on…" Rinko spoke slowly, with a pause in her words. "Separating my emotions… from the music." Ultimately, that had been the problem.

A small smile appeared on Nakamura's face. "An excellent answer." She said, sitting up straight in her chair once again. "Remember that, as you continue to grow as a pianist."

Rinko certainly would. She'd hold onto what she learned, even taking it to Roselia practices with her.

Rinko thanked Nakamura for her assistance, which had surprised the other woman. She responded that it was what she was here to do, and that she looked forward to seeing Rinko in class that week.

If Rinko was going to grow, to be the pianist Roselia needed to reach the top, she had to be the best. There was still so much to learn, but this was a great next step.

The next Roselia practice was that afternoon, in just a couple hours. Rinko couldn't wait.