The Fourth on the First

One

Brett's never been to this Professor Wenuhin's class. And not that he's looking forward to it either.

Anyway, he was sent by his sensei, Chen, as he moved to another city, Brisbane, and had to leave his original teacher. 

Sensei Chen had all along been that nice, guiding teacher, who would forgive him for butchering that Rondo Capriccioso after claiming to have practiced fourty hours every day, or ruining that Sibelius to a certain degree where his bow had left a dent on his teacher's perfectly painted white wall.

 Obviously, Sensei Chen gets mad sometimes too—Brett is holding the violin case on his lap, sitting quietly on the bus to Professor Wenuhin's first class—he called him a "peasant" for not knowing what "pesante" meant. 

Not really his fault though—Brett complains secretly. This is the time when the teacher had never taught you the lesson but expects you to know. How unfair. 

But he remembers word for word, what Sensei Chen said to him at the end of their very last class before leaving. 

The two hours were full of sorrow, he remembers his heart was stinging under the proud gaze of his teacher. The word itself, though, wasn't as nostalgic as Brett wished it to be. 

"Brett, this might be the last time we have a lesson together." 

Brett can recall the look on his teacher's face easily, as if it were only yesterday or a last Sunday. The teacher was serious, more than ever, but also with an encouraging smile. 

"I wish you a bright future. Good luck." 

Just as student Brett was on the point of crying in emotional pain, thanking this stranger who led him into the violin world, and speaking of his gratefulness, Sensei Chen the Atmosphere-Builder-slash-Ruiner suddenly added, "I've found you this professor, Ehuddy Wenuhin. You're talented enough to have his classes now, Brett. He's quite looking forward to meeting you as we spoke on the phone." 

Brett's tentative tears abruptly dried up and turned into shock, stumbled, "Wha-what? Professor...what? Wen—?"

"Uh-hmm, Wenuhin," Sensei Chen gave a wide heart-warming smile. "I was Professor Wenuhin's student when I was your age, though he was only older than me by five or six years. He's such an accomplished violinist. Plenty of people want to have him but he'd never have the time for them. You're honestly lucky to have skipped his own 'audition' thing and jumped straight to have classes with him." 

Brett's face appeared to have a large question mark on it, "Excuse me? You mean, I'm having classes with your old teacher thirty years ago?" 

"Well, technically fifteen. Yes, he's living in Brisbane. I introduced you to him, better not disappoint both of us!" Sensei Chen winked cheerfully as Brett tried to pull himself out of the shock he was in. He'd never expected to find a new teacher in another city this soon. And, the crazy part of this is, having classes with the teacher who taught his own teacher. 

"So—" Brett felt his hands sweating way too much that he was going to drop his violin. "Um, is he—nice?" 

Sensei Chen paused a little, then the iconic mysterious expression appeared on his face, "Well." He tilted his head a slight bit towards the left, exhaled a "yes" as Brett looked at him with great suspiciousness. "Yes, he is nice. There's one thing I would say, though." 

He lowered his voice mischievously, leaving Brett an infinite amount of trauma, "He would love some majestic authority in his hand when you first meet."