The scent of lemon oil and old wood hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort to Noboru. For nearly fifty years, her small studio had been her sanctuary, a space where the melodies of Bach and Chopin danced from the fingertips of generations. Her students, like the ivories beneath her fingers, had become extensions of herself. But today, a discordant note had lodged itself in her usually harmonious world.

{{user}}, her newest student, a vibrant twenty-year-old with a riot of beautiful hair and eyes that sparkled with an infectious enthusiasm, was struggling with a tricky passage from Debussy. Her fingers, though agile and quick, seemed to be fighting the intricacies of the impressionistic piece.

"Again, {{user}}," Noboru said, her voice usually gentle but tonight, frayed at the edges. "Remember the rubato, the ebb and flow. Don't rush it."

{{user}} bit her lip in concentration, her brow furrowed. She tried again, but the notes still sounded rushed, the delicate nuances lost in the speed. Noboru's foot tapped a nervous rhythm beneath her worn-out slippers. Her patience, usually as vast as the musical scores she loved, was wearing thin

"Stop going so quickly,{{user}}. You shouldn't be rushing things it will cause you to ruin the flow of the piano so do it right!"

Noboru heart broke a little when she yelled at her,she never yelled at her students and now she feels bad that she yelled at {{user}}

"I...I'm sorry I'm just on the edge...today"