Same story as the last chapter. Yep.
They tell him that he's good. He's not sure what to make of it. The first time, it's the first day he's ever gone to a band class, and their teacher tells them to warm up. He's already warmed up (he practiced before school), and he doesn't really want to, so he pulls out a song he's supposed to be learning. He doesn't get it right, obviously, but he tries, and he's able to practice the hard parts. After a few minutes, he realizes the kid next to him is staring.
So, he stops playing, and stares back, as seventh graders are prone to do, when scary 9th graders or 8th graders or whatever this is start giving them looks. She smiles after a minute. You don't have to stop. You're just really, really good. What grade are you in? And he's… well, he didn't expect to hear that. So he just shrugs, and tells her that he's in seventh, and plays again until the teacher says to stop, and that they're never doing that again, and o-kay let's get started. He decides it must be a thing unique to her, and doesn't worry about it.
But then, it happens again. He's playing a solo for his teacher in 8th grade, and he realizes that she's been staring at him for a while. He continues playing, but part of him wonders if he's messed up. He knows he didn't get quite loud enough at the crescendo there, but he'd thought he'd made up for it by getting super quiet at the piano the next part. She'd always said dynamic contrast was okay, but… maybe he went too far? He's not sure.
So when he's finally done, he looks at her and waits for judgment. He tells her that he knows he messed up, and points out the mistake. He tells her that he tried to fix it, and waits for her to tell him he did it all wrong. But instead, she smiles after a minute. Have you ever been told how talented you are? He's not sure how to respond, so he just shrugs. She gives her head a little shake and tells him that he did wonderfully. It's been a while since I've seen a student quite like you. And he just smiles, and leaves, and practices the crescendo again, and again, and again, and again, until it's good enough his fath - enough that Zuko would listen to it.
He doesn't expect it to happen again, but it does, and it actually is by Zuko, which wouldn't be significant at all, except that he's in a bad mood. It's at the end of 8th grade, and he's trying so hard to get into marching band (nine hours a week, Zuko, plus competitions! how can I just give that up?), and it's not going very well. Zuko's sick and tired of listening to him list the reasons why it's so good, even for him, and he tells him to shut up and get out of his room. He's surprised, and hurt, and isn't quite sure what to do.
So, he gets the new instrument his teacher gave him (just to try out), and tries it out. After a few minutes Zuko comes down, and glares at him. How long have you been practicing that without permission? For a minute, he doesn't get the question, because… 0 minutes, seconds, or days. When he realizes that's the answer, though, he tells his brother the truth. Then he smiles, just a little bit, because Zuko looks extremely surprised. Wow. That's…. Wow. You're better than I thought you were. And he doesn't exactly know how to respond to that, but Zuko turns around and leaves, so he doesn't have to.
People tell him he's good. It's kind of weird, but it's also nice. If he wants compliments, at least, he knows what to do.