Avi watches from the sidelines, unblinking. Her breathing is slow and deep, and she’s leaning to the side in her chair, head propped up by her arm, with her elbow on the table. Her right leg is folded over her left, and she’s bouncing her left foot on the ground.
Tammy and Catala are on the other side of the room. It’s a small room, only about 20 feet from wall to wall, but the distance feels greater than it should be.
Tammy quickly strums something on his violin.
Catala thinks for a moment, then raises her voice to compliment the tone. “Laaaa~!”
He strums another string,
She deepens her voice slightly, “looooo~.”
With a frown, Tammy twists one of the black pieces on the end of the violin’s neck. He then strums again, producing a slightly different sound.
“Loooo~.”
“Ah, there we go.”
They continue this for every string, making sure the tones match. Once they think they’re ready, Tammy strums every string in succession from right to left.
“Laaaa-aahh-oooooo-aaaaa-aaaa-oooo-aaaaaaaah~.”
“That was perfect!” Tammy cries. “You have a beautiful voice, Catala.”
Avi spasms terribly, which causes her elbow to slip and her forehead to bash against the edge of the table. She quickly recovers, but they’re not paying attention to her anyway.
“Thank you, Samuel. You are substantially more professional than other partners I’ve had. It’s refreshing to work alongside a boy who can actually play.”
“Is that normally a problem for you?”
“The goal is the orchestra,” she speaks softly. “Many nobles want the prestige of having one from their faction or house admitted. My master has repeatedly ordered me to practice with their sons or grandsons whose only accomplishment thus far was the circumstance of their birth.”
“Haha! Well, I won’t tell Sir Kracken you said that.”
Her smile is faint, but nevertheless radiant. “I know,” she says confidently.
Avi reaches over to grab an empty can, then crushes it.
“So, what should we play? I brought plenty of music sheets, if you’d like to look them over.” He climbs up the chair to look through his case.
“I, similarly, have brought my own set.” She reaches into a pouch in front of her skirt and pulls out a few sheets of paper.
They set the pages side by side, but while Tammy’s pages are read from left to right, Catala’s is read from top to bottom, and the pages are much taller than his.
“Hmmm…” Tammy grabs his chin and looks them over. “There are a lot of similarities between these, despite them coming from different planets. Maybe everyone’s ears are basically the same no matter where you go?”
Catala shakes her head. She taps her music sheet, “this,” she points to his, “originated from this. The Planetary Governor became obsessed with the music from a distant world and has been preparing this orchestra for years. According to the story I’ve heard, she took the music theory from that distant planet, then adapted it to create mine. You managed to find the original, while I was trained in the newer, gurant-style. That’s why there are similarities, but it’s impressive that you managed to see it.”
“Ooooh!”
Avi shakes her head and crushes another can. Tammy’s a sucker for those sorts of pointless details.
“Because of this obsession,” Catala continues, “your violin, the case, and the music would easily fetch a high price if you managed to gain an audience with the Planetary Governor. She could verify the authenticity and would pay any price you requested. If you asked for a price that would take the average citizen a century of hard labor to achieve, she would pay without hesitation.”
“Haha, I knew it was valuable. But I still wouldn’t sell even for a thousand years of hard labor. I especially wouldn’t give it to a gurant.”
That causes Catala to crack a wide, bubbly smile, but she quickly composes herself and rubs the top of his head, ruffling his soft brown hair. “I’ll avoid telling my master of your blatant disrespect, and your hoarding of such a valuable collector’s item.”
Tammy looks up at her with a cheeky smile, “heehee, I know.”
Avi, who hasn’t blinked once in the last five minutes, grabs an empty can off the table, presses her palms against the top and bottom, then twists until the tin rips in half.
“I’m… so mad. Frustrated. It’s like my skin is crawling and I can’t get comfortable. Why? I get a bad feeling from this girl. But it doesn’t look like she’s some type of assassin. A spy? Is she lying when she says she won’t tell her master about Tammy’s violin? Maybe she’ll steal it herself, run away, then sell it in exchange for escaping slavery. That crap about losing her brother was probably… crap. Just a method to get close to us. Then embarrassing me in front of my husband like that? It’s a plot. She wants to separate me from Tammy to smooth the plot’s progression, but I won’t fall for it. I’ll protect my partner and his prized Clausian Original Handcraft Mark 1 Willow-Wood with Sherban-Fesk synthetic gut strings.”
The two musicians continue their conversation and planning. They cross reference the music sheets and soon agree to follow Catala’s since that’s the style they’ll have to follow once they reach the orchestra.
“You brought a lot of music, Catala. In what sort of setting will we be playing?”
“Setting?” Avi thinks.
“The main dining hall, at sunset. Windows looking out over the vast ocean as the nobles and their families calmly enjoy their meals.”
Neither Tammy nor Avi think about how they can use that setting for their assassination. It’s been a while since either even remembered that they’re supposed to be on a mission.
“Hmm, so you’re saying we’ll need a nice, exciting, high-speed song to get the blood pumping! Bring a bit of flare to the boring dinner.”
“Or,” Catala says patiently, “a slower, classy song that fits the mood. Calming, elegant. The kind of things the nobility expect.”
Tammy frowns. “Well, that’s fine too. So,” Tammy looks over the music sheets to try and read which one fits the theme. A slow song, long notes, sluggish, rather than the song he played outside with its frantic, feverish pace. “This one looks nice,” he says, pointing to a tall booklet with small holes on the top of the pages that connect via a spiral ringlet.
Catala gives it a quick glance, and the music automatically plays in her mind. “This is a favorite of my master’s. It should be excellent. It takes nine minutes to complete, assuming we stay on pace. Do you have the skill and stamina for it?”
“Of course.”
Tammy takes his place on the side and Catala returns most of the music sheets to her pocket, leaving only the ringed booklet on the stand. Her pages are a little too tall for the stand that came with Tammy’s violin, so Tammy stands behind it and holds the page straight. From there, Catala goes through the song, and reaches forward to flip pages when necessary.
Her singing voice is well and truly beautiful. Deep and mature, like an adult far older than herself. The words are careful and slow, each note perfectly hit, with a somber feel to it. There isn’t a hint of warble or hesitation in her voice. Tammy gently sways back and forth while he studies the song, and Avi is forced to bite her bottom lip in recognition of how wonderful her voice is.
The lyrics are fittingly depressive, telling the story of the average day of a woman who lost everything to the Gurant Empire and now lives under their boot. It begins with her waking up in bed, alone, because her husband died in an ill-fated rebellion against the empire. She walks downstairs to see three soldiers occupying her living room as if they own the place, which they basically do thanks to the policy of stationing loyal soldiers in luxury homes. The woman heads to the kitchen and starts making breakfast for her family out of habit, but she collapses to the ground as she realizes it’s pointless because her children are gone. Her eldest son was executed by law enforcement for trying to steal extra food rations. Her daughter went missing on her way home from school and the woman’s mind can’t help but wander to the worst fates possible because she simply doesn’t know. Her youngest son was taken away to be raised in an orphanage. Once she picks herself up and gets composed, she heads out to her job. On the way, she sees parks that are being paved over for factories, the lake where she was married to her husband has been drained and is being replaced by a large ammunition depot, the hospital where her children were born is being torn down to be replaced by one fitting the standard gurant style of windowless, cold grey concrete. Everything good from her past life is being torn down. When she finally reaches her job, it’s as a secretary for the gurant mayor of the city. Every time someone comes in for a meeting with the mayor, she must bow her head and introduce herself as the former duchess of the land. The song tells of the humiliation and bitterness that burns deep in her heart, and the frustration of knowing that no matter what she does, she will never regain anything of the life she had previously. She finally suffers through the day and can return to the house filled with so many bitter, long-gone memories. She walks through the front door, and then, through song, the audience is informed that the original composer was arrested on charges of treason, but the ‘merciful’ gurant gave her a small stay of execution so she could incorporate that knowledge into the song.
When she finishes her solo, Catala puts a hand on her chest and breathes out. It’s a habit she adopted to compose herself after a song. She opens her eyes and looks to Tammy, “what do you think, Samuel?”
“Beautiful. That was only nine minutes?”
“Good music never seems to last as long as they should, as I’m sure you understand.”
Avi speaks up from across the room, prompting the musicians to turn their heads. “It sounded nice, but is that song even allowed? The lyrics sounded really harsh against the gurant.”
Tammy tightens the left side of his mouth, “was it? I was focused more on the melody and stuff.”
Catala delicately raises a gloved hand, “it will be fine. This is an imperial-approved piece, intentionally spread as propaganda. They want you to know it’s hopeless to fight against them.”
“That does sound like something those monsters would do, haha.” Tammy sets Catala’s music sheets down, then goes to grab his violin. “Let’s see what I can do with this.”
Catala starts to move behind the stand so she can flip pages for Tammy, but Avi moves in. Quick like a bullet, she cuts Catala off and positions herself behind the stand, holding the booklet tight. Catala frowns, but Avi doesn’t spare her a glance.
Tammy gets ready, then begins strumming. Eyes wide, careful, Avi taps her foot to keep time while he’s busy figuring the notes.
It’s a little difficult to translate this sheet to the one he’s used to, but he performs well enough for his first attempt. He misreads quite a few notes, strums incorrectly, and misplaces his hand more than once. Mistake after mistake, Tammy’s first attempt with a song he’s never seen before is like Avi’s 100th attempt with a song she’s supposedly practiced for months.
Even without any clear sign, Avi reads his body language and flips the booklet when necessary, ensuring he’s never interrupted.
The boy’s eyes are wide, and his brow narrowed. Catala stands by and slowly rocks her head in time with the feel. But, after about four minutes into the song, Tammy stops.
“Hmm.”
“Is something wrong, Mr. Parabba?”
“I don’t like it.”
“The song?” Catala recoils slightly, since it’s her favorite.
But Avi smiles, understanding Tammy’s words. She flips the page back to the beginning, and Tammy readies his violin and bow.
Once again, he starts. This time, muscle memory can take over. The pace is better, he’s more in rhythm, notes he got wrong the first time are fixed. Strums he did incorrectly are given the proper angle and force. Though he’s still making mistakes, and it’s far from a level of confidence he can be proud of.
It all sounds the same to Avi, but Tammy swears that confident strums and plucks sound better than uncommitted or nervous ones.
Tammy reaches two minutes before he starts making frequent mistakes again.
Wishy-washy, uncommitted, one mistake leads to another, and he’s almost scared of getting it wrong in front of company.
He removes his bow and purses his lips, reading the pages.
Avi remains steadfast in her support, unmoving behind the stand, holding the booklet.
Catala steps forward, prompting Avi to glare at her, unblinking.
“You’re thinking something. What is it?”
“This song is complicated.”
She nods patiently, “you played quite a complicated song in the guard outpost earlier.”
Tammy shakes his head. “Music, at least the good ones I want to play, tend to have a certain rhythm to it. A motif, a theme, various through lines. So, when you crack that motif, the song gets really easy to learn. You just need to memorize the individual notes and such.” Tammy flips through the booklet.
“I agree. Though I described them as a certain mood.”
“Yeah!” Tammy smiles.
Avi frowns, “I think that same thing too…” But they ignore her.
Tammy flips from page to page. “But this song, it has a lot of different themes, which I think may be following the different parts of the woman’s day you sung about. Each theme gets kind of darker too.”
“Is that right? I figured there was something odd and particularly challenging, but I couldn’t quite put it into words.”
Avi’s eyes are rounded and she darts her gaze between the two. “Haha, yeah. I thought it sounded like nine different songs!”
Catala raises an eyebrow, “nine?”
Tammy shakes his head but doesn’t look up at his wife. “It’s six.” Avi clamps her lips shut. “It’s not so much that they’re different songs, it’s just that the feel is different, so it’s harder to learn.”
Catala points to one of the sheets and says something.
Tammy cocks his head, spouts gibberish equally as unintelligible, and excitedly turns a few pages back.
Catala cracks a smile. She’s bending at the knees and hips, still a little taller than Tammy, but around Avi’s height. She has a hand on his back and slowly rolls the index of her other hand along the page. She’s humming, and Tammy gently slides his bow left and right.
“What the heck is happening? What are they even saying?”
Avi gulps hard. Her breathing slows, her eyes are flicking to absorb every detail, and she can feel her heartbeat pulse all the way up her tail.
She has no way of knowing that her body has been put in a fight or flight response. Her adrenaline has spiked, and she’s ready to fight for her life. But her conscious brain can’t identify the threat, hence her confusion. She’s interpreting this intense physical reaction as a warning that Catala can’t be trusted.
Catala pulls back, which takes a weight off Avi’s heart, but then she starts singing the first section of the song. Tammy adds his violin. It’s a duet. Tammy is playing with someone that isn’t Avi, and worst of all, it sounds significantly better than when Catala sung alone.
Avi gulps, there’s intense pressure behind her eyes, she’s tapping her foot faster and faster!
The two stop.
“Uh, sorry, Avi. But could you stop tapping your foot? It’s a little distracting.”
“…”
Tammy’s looks a little embarrassed, but there isn’t a hint of annoyance behind his eyes. Catala’s face is twisted into a malicious, polite smile. It’s as if she’s taunting Avi, that she’s going to do something to Tammy and there’s nothing Avi can do to protect her husband.
She sets her foot on the floor and doesn’t move it further.
The duo restarts their practice on the first page.
Tammy doesn’t even say thank you.
The room seems to tilt to the side, Avi’s vision tunnels, her mind races with questions and possibilities. “She’s corrupting him. Luring him in with his newfound passion of music. She’s taking him away from me. It won’t be long until her work is complete and she takes over my role as Tammy’s wife. They’re going to throw me overboard, watch me splash into the water as I flail and try to stay floating. She’ll call out ‘should have learned to play!’ Then Tammy will add ‘or swim!’ And the boat will leave and I’ll never see him again and Tammy will continue a life as an expert musician and they’ll go to the orchestra and the gurant will be so pleased that she’ll make him the king of the planet and ginger girl will be the queen and they’ll spend their days playing music together and if he ever spares a thought to his old wife it’ll only be to laugh at me and- and then- and the two- and- and- and-“
“Avi?”
Her eyes drift to the boy. “Yes?” She says calmly.
“Can you flip the page?”
“…” She looks down at it. “…” She turns the booklet to the side and tears it in half. Every sheet, from left to right, in a clean line with a satisfying rip echoing off the paper. Once the tear reaches the other side, she releases her hands. The right side plops to the carpet, weighed down by the ringed spine keeping the pages together, while the left side of the pages flutter in the air before finally settling.
Tammy and Catala watch the pages fall. Avi remains stonefaced.
“…” Tammy looks at the settled paper for a moment, then slowly raises his head to Avi. “Okay… why?” He says calmly.
“Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”
“Can you apologize to Catala first for destroying her music sheet?”
Stiffly, like an automaton, Avi creaks her head to Catala. “I apologize for breaking it. Now please step outside.”
Catala, unlike her music partner, looks visibly pissed. She’s trying to smile, but there’s an overt malice in her eyes and frustration in the tightness of her face. Thankfully she’s used to quietly suffering through humiliation and anger, so she bows politely and backs away. Once she’s about halfway to the door she turns around, though accidentally slams the door shut behind her.
“We need to get rid of her,” Avi says quickly, her voice otherwise monotone.
“What?!” Tammy recoils, “why?! Sh-she didn’t do anything.”
Avi shakes her head. “She’s dangerous.”
He folds his arms. “How?”
“She… just is.”
“Okay, but how do you know?”
“She’s trying to get too close to you.”
“We’re going to be playing music together. We need to practice with the same sheet.”
“No, I mean like emotionally. Bonding. Not just physical distance.”
“Ehh? All we’ve really talked about is music, which is directly relevant to our objective of assassinating that guy.”
“She told you her whole life story.”
“She did?”
“She had a husband and children, and all met terrible ends by the gurant-“
“That was the song, Avi. That wasn’t her life story.”
“…”
“Also, because that’s the song we’re going to play, that would, again, have been relevant to what we’re doing here.”
“…She’s just not trustworthy, Tammy. We should cut our losses and ditch her.”
He sighs, “that’s… there’s a lot of problems with that, but first and foremost, I don’t want to. I want to play with her in front of an audience.”
Avi tightens her fists, a sudden pain stabbing into her chest. “I’ll play with you. I’ll practice with you right now and I’ll get really good.”
“We were practicing all day,” he says, a twinge of bitterness in his voice. “You didn’t even want to, you just kept telling me to play again and again and again.”
“Which you enjoyed.”
“Yeah, but I also thought we were playing together! Now I just… feel kind of lied to.”
Avi frowns, “I felt lied to when you said you’d help me practice but then you just shut your eyes and didn’t even bother looking at me.” She folds her arms and puts her weight on her right leg, “granted I’m not a teacher, and I’ve had no positive experiences with teachers, but that seems like a really stupid teaching strategy.”
Tammy pulls back slightly, then scowls. He marches to the dresser, climbs up the chair, and sets his violin down. “Why are you getting so mad?!” He hops down from the chair and walks closer. He stops just before her and looks up, hands on his hips. The boy’s height is currently just 3’11, while Avi is 4’8, but confidence radiates off Tammy and they look more like equals.
Avi swipes her hand to the door, “because you seemed plenty engaged while talking to redhead, and were super eager to coordinate with her! Focusing on what she’s doing while you practice!”
“It’s for a mission!” He cries.
Avi presses both hands on her sternum, “us playing the violin is for a mission!”
“Yeah? And apparently you weren’t too interested in that mission, because you never actually wanted to practice!”
“I always wanted to practice! You just never wanted to teach!”
“I thought I was teaching you!” Tammy’s young voice peaks. “When exactly were you going to tell me that you hadn’t retained any information? When we walked up to the governor’s palace to audition?” The more Tammy talks, the more violently Avi nods and rolls her head, like she’s struggling to contain herself as Tammy prattles on. “Would you have told me on the approach, or would you have actually gone into the audition and flunked it? I wasn’t mad when Catala revealed it since I understand your history with getting instructions back at the tribe, I really do. BUT, now that I’m thinking about it, I actually am kind of getting a bit angry!”
“You’re angry?!” She finally blurts out. Her teeth are clenched and she’s showing her gums, the corners of her brow are downturned and she’s on the verge of tears. Her head movements are erratic, looking everywhere except Tammy’s eyes. “I th- I thought…” She gulps hard. She keeps switching from folding her arms, to holding her hands, to gripping her skirt. “I thought this time would be different. That I’d actually learn something, since it was you. And then… when I didn’t learn anything,” she breathes rapidly for a few seconds. “I figured what happens next wouldn’t be any different either. That you’d get annoyed, and you’d yell at me, call me worthless, start beating me!”
Tammy’s spirit crumbles and his voice turns soft, “Avi…“
“But I-I-I knew!” She screams and forces eye contact. Tammy recoils at seeing the pain and hurt so clear on her face. “I knew you never would! Of course you never would! So I f-figured maybe you were just a bit too passionate about your new hobby, right? F-fine, that’s okay, you just don’t have the ability to pry yourself away from your own little world, so I should be the adult and not bother you while you’re enjoying yourself… but then the redhead came along and you weren’t in your own little world at all! Y-you seemed so… so engaged to her. So attentive to her. You were having such fun with her and talking to her like you never talked with me, so… the problem must be me, right? I’m the failure? Again?”
She has more to say, but Tammy’s heard enough. He rushes in and tucks his head beneath her chin, wrapping his arms around her back. She quickly reciprocates the hug, and with his head turned to the side, he can feel her heartbeat against his face. “Oh, Avi…” He says softly.
She breathes in and out slowly, expanding her chest to capacity, then emptying her lungs completely.
“I’m sorry… for never noticing. I really did fail you as a teacher, and it’s no wonder seeing me interact with Catala like that made you so upset. You needed special care and attention, I didn’t provide it, and then I seemingly gave it to her.”
“…” Tammy can’t see due to the position of their hug, but Avi’s face is deadpan. No tears, no quivering lip, not even a hint of emotion or distress. But when she speaks, her words carry such an inflection that Tammy assumes she’s on the verge of sobbing. “I really thought,” she sniffs hard, “that you hated me, or something. I-I’m so sorry for doubting you.”
Tammy hugs her tighter, “I could never hate you, Avi.”
Her face remains blank, though the corners of her mouth curl upwards a tick.
“I won’t lie and say you don’t annoy me sometimes, but it’s like that for everyone! What’s important though is that, in the future, we need to be able to talk about these things. I can understand why you didn’t speak up before, but if we don’t trust each other, who can we trust?” Tammy pulls back and looks up at his wife, he sees her face twisted in pain, but she’s fighting to smile through it all. To him, it’s a clear case of Avi being heartbroken and distressed, but through talking about their issues they’ve successfully worked through it. He raises a pinkie, “promise you’ll tell me when these sorts of things are bothering you? I promise to never get mad when you share with me your troubles.”
Avi sniffs, twists her face into a goofy smile, and nods frantically. She quickly hooks her pinkie around Tammy’s and swears on it.
“That being said, in the interest of honesty…” Tammy’s face lights up and he grabs Avi’s hands, “I’m still reeeeally excited about playing in front of a bunch of strangers, and I reeeeally want to continue practicing with Catala, so can I? Please?” His cute face and eyes are pleading, and he can barely contain his excitement.
Avi thinks for a second, and brushes some of the loose strands of light brown hair off his forehead. “Okay, Tammy. If you’re that excited, it’s fine. But promise that we’ll have some genuine practice once we get back home, okay?”
“Of course!” He says, forgetting that Avi already made him promise that earlier. “I’ll go get her!” Tammy backs away, and the second he turns his back to run to the door, the emotion is wiped from Avi’s face.
Her mind races with thoughts and possibilities.
“Good. This is good. He’s not going to dump me somewhere or abandon me. His mind has been refocused. I just need to ensure that redhead doesn’t try to ensnare him again.”
Tammy opens the door and invites Catala back inside. She calmly nods to Tammy as she glides across the floor. The bone-tail walks back to the table and Catala is free to let her hate-filled eyes bore a hole through the back of her skull, until the girl turns around to sit and Catala needs to regain her polite smile. Avi’s expression is a tad frazzled. Reassured, nervous, but steady.
Tammy and Catala start picking up the pieces of the music sheet and fitting them together.
“When I get back to my room,” Catala says calmly, “I shall tape these together. For now, we’ll have to focus on page at a time, learning the steps.”
“Sounds good! Any bit of practice is grand.” He turns to Avi and winks at her. The kind, purposeful acknowledgement of her existence sends electricity from her heart to her fingertips, and she sends a warm smile in return.
The pair continue their practice while Avi sits on the sidelines, not really paying attention.
Her mind is blank, though her face is constantly reacting to Tammy’s regular glances.
If there’s any genuine emotion she’s feeling, it’s relief.
There was no plan going into that, nor a conscious effort at emotional manipulation. From ripping the paper to twisting her face in sorrow every time Tammy looked, it was all a matter of pure instinct. Arguing with Tammy, the hug, it was all her genuine thoughts. In the moment, she didn’t even fully understand why she was doing it, but she’s very pleased with the result, and she’s glad she did it. A simple reassurance that Tammy won’t leave her.
That anxiousness, that fight or flight response, has subsided for now.
She’ll do it again if Catala gets too friendly with her husband.