It didn't take any sort of prodigy to know that Cho was beyond the definition of insane.

Thingsss are not going according to plan, the spirit hissed, seething in anger as Aoi worked her way through the full set of Paganini's 24 Caprices. She closed her eyes in full concentration, the notes flowing through her head as her bow bounced across the strings in flawless ricochets. Fluid yet controlled, her arm moved like a medieval fiddler's, springing passionate arpeggios before settling into the relaxed detaché of Caprice No.2 in B minor.

Ice-cold talons began sinking into the corners of her mind, a spiteful reminder that the only reason Cho had relinquished control was because despite all her ploys, she couldn't fake at playing the violin. Aoi gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on the melodies instead, guiding her bow into a rapid dance on the string crossings.

Little violin girl, you are indeed, Cho admitted, the frigid claws receding, but you are going to lossse to that ssstupid girl if you sssit here and play your inssstrument all day.

Aoi ignored Cho's irate tittering as she progressed into Caprice No.10 in G minor, the chords and trills ringing in her ears, washing over her as she drowned her growing sense of fear in vibrant staccato notes and distant string crossings. A memory of Noriko and Hiro sitting next to each other during lunch slammed her in her mind's eye, Aoi narrowly missing an up bow stroke and several notes.

She isss going to win, jussst like her mother did, you want the sssame thing to happen to you?

Aoi rolled her eyes, her bow pouncing on the strings like a lover's peppered kisses in the signature high speed run of Caprice No.13 in B-flat major, affectionately nicknamed 'The Devil's Laughter'. 

Cho had made a complete fool out of both of them the previous day, tailing Hiro to drama practice without an ounce of shame and making eyes at him the entire time. So focused was her outdated flirting technique that Gin became convinced that she was there as a spy, despite Kimi and the whole cast's constant reminding that she was from their school. In the end, much to Cho's chagrin and Aoi's embarrassment, Hiro finally asked her to leave the hall, and even sat with the theater troupe at break.

You think thisss isss funny, little violin girl?

Aoi bowed her way through the triple and quadruple stops of Caprice No.14 in E-flat major without much hassle, producing clear tones that mirrored loud, defiant brass fanfares. Her lips pressed into a thin line, using the chords to ground her thoughts and push Cho's whispers into the background. She moved on to the next caprice, and the next, and the next, the fine horsehair of her bow caressing the steel strings of her instrument without so much as a sigh from the spirit.

It was when she was playing the sixteenth note passage of Caprice No.20 in D major complete with trills and flying staccatos that Cho resurfaced with another asinine plan.

The violin tucked between her chin and shoulder mimicking bagpipes, Aoi's fringe hair swished in time with her elbow's movements when the cold crept into her mind, a spider sneaking up on its prey, and snared her train of thought in its sticky web.

Lisssten to me, little violin girl. Sssix dotsss connect to form a hexagon.

Aoi's eyebrows furrowed through the aria-like melody seeping out of her violin, trying to grasp Cho's geometric rambling and at the same time utterly disinterested in what the dead high school girl was telling her. Her body swept back and forth, almost out of impatience as she let more muscle memory take over.

Take away three, and the linesss make a triangle. And how do you form a line?

Aoi's frown deepened. She brushed Cho's question away, like flicking a spider off a table, leaping into a series of rapid upbow staccatos to end Caprice No.21 with multiple confident flourishes of her bow.

The chill struck again, tearing and squeezing at the corners of her mind until Aoi could barely think, vision clouding as if spiders had drawn their webs across her eyelids. Her bow landed on the strings, ready to pull the first note of Caprice No.22, but she froze.

How do you form a line, little violin girl?

Aoi blinked, snapping out of her trance. Rows of auditorium seats spread out in front of her, empty except for one occupied by Miss Sugiyama. The supervising teacher's face bore a look of concern, and had gotten out of her seat when Aoi shook her head at her, and resumed playing the violin. She wasn't the slightest bit interested in the spirit's mind games.

You remove the third dot.

Aoi's eyes flared. Her hands were as calm as ever, the fingers on her left waltzing across the fingerboard seamlessly and her right wielding the bow in demonstration of a perfect louré violin technique, but her heart began to pound in her chest as Cho's words sunk in.

The girl continued coaxing skillful notes out of her instrument, stone-faced to the world, but inside, a sense of burgeoning panic thrummed in her veins as the spirit filled her head with gleeful whispers. 

You sssee, Kenjiro and Kanako ended up together when I wasss out of the equay-ssshen. What better way for hissstory to repeat itssself?

Slurred tremolos escaped the violin in time with the melody, but Aoi could barely tell whether it was because of her own volition or because of her trembling hands. She bit her lip in an effort to compose herself, to pretend that there wasn't a spirit in her head telling her to murder a friend, but Cho knew, and she shrieked in delight. 

Ssstruck a chord, haven't I? Now, how ssshould we go about thisss, little violin girl? 

Aoi slammed her eyes shut, tugging her bow down hard on the strings for the last few bars of the piece, ring finger pulling off a decent pizzicato, and ending with a smooth glide of her elbow. She jumped right into Caprice No.23, desperately trying to block out the spirit's taunting with rich E-flat major octaves.  To her horror, the music instead served to drone in the background for Cho's homicidal suggestions, each one accompanied with sickening depictions of Noriko's demise. 

An 'accidental' pusssh off a ledge, perhapsss?

Now Aoi was leaning over a balcony, staring down at Noriko face-down on the ground, delicate limbs twisted in all the wrong ways, a pool of blood tracing the edges of her lifeless form. 

Or we could find a knife sssomewhere?

Now Aoi's hand was thrust out, burying a knife into Noriko's stomach until the tip came out on the other side as her friend spurted blood all over her blazer.

How about sssomething more sssubtle, like a cleaning agent?

Now Aoi was in the dining hall, witnessing Noriko drop her contaminated cup of juice, bright eyes turning glassy and foaming at the mouth. 

No? You'd prefer sssomething elssse?

The visions stopped. Aoi swallowed hard, eyes haunted and heart thundering in her ears. She was still in the auditorium, holding her violin and bow, and had miraculously made it to the end of Caprice 23. She had half a mind to throw down her instrument and run out of the damned school, but Cho's possession was a glaring issue. Not to mention Miss Sugiyama's gaze was still on her, face growing more and more concerned by the second. 

Aoi took a deep breath and set her bow on the strings, pulling forth the beginning of Caprice 24. The spirit stirred, hexagonal cogs turning inside her head. 

Ah, clever little violin girl. Alwaysss doing thingsss your way. 

Aoi stifled her urge to stop, pressing on with the final caprice, breezing through extremely fast scales and high position notes. She gave herself up to the melody, picturing the notes in her head and holding them firmly in her mind's eye, praying Cho wouldn't tear through her pitiful defense with another gruesome mirage of Noriko. The fleeting notes acted as her cushion, her barrier, birthed from her violin and repelling the spiders waiting in the dark recesses of her mind. 

Instead, the strings began to fray. The phantom strands rose of their own will, looping around each other to form perfect hexagons, starting from the middle and sprawling across the fingerboard on both ends. Cho didn't bother to go slow this time, the unseen spiders weaving their patterns faster and faster without interfering with Aoi's playing in the least. 

The hexagons grew past the bridge supporting all four of the violin strings, encompassing the whole neck of the instrument. The strings continued to fray, coiling around the tuning pegs, stretching the strings taut. Aoi's notes became scratchy, like her violin was being strangled, but still the girl played on, determined to make it to the end of the piece despite whatever new scheme the spirit had concocted. 

Her violin wheezed out the last few arpeggios, the strands persistently winding its pegs, the spiders reeling in their catch of the day. Aoi gripped her bow hard, knuckles turning white, and drew the closing four-note chord. 

TWANG!

All four of the violin's tense strings snapped, the broken steel wires slapping the girl across the face. Stunned, Aoi reached up to her cheek as heat flooded her face, pulling her hand away and staring at the wetness coating her fingers. 

Blood. 

"Aoi-chan! Are you alright?" Miss Sugiyama had rushed onto the stage, shock plastered on her naturally-stern features. 

Aoi blinked, struggling to process what had happened. "I... I think so."

Aw, did that hurt, little violin girl?

Miss Sugiyama instinctively reached out to touch Aoi, but the girl recoiled at the voice in her own head. "Maybe... maybe I tuned my strings too tight."

"But your strings were fine when you were playing the whole time; you couldn't have tuned them while you were playing," Miss Sugiyama insisted. Her steady hands grabbed Aoi's shoulders, looking straight into the girl's terrified eyes. "Aoi, are you sure that you're okay?"

Aoi gulped down the lump in her throat. "I-I'm fine, Sugiyama-sensei. I... I just need some rest."

"As supervising teacher, I am in charge of all the soloists in the Saino, and any one of you can come to me if you have any problems, do you understand?" 

Aoi nodded. 

"I am to make sure all of the students are accustomed to the rules of the Saino, that they can perform well, that they are at their best especially during the festival. If there is anything that is making you uncomfortable, you come to me directly, do you understand?"

Aoi nodded again. 

Miss Sugiyama drew herself up to full height, her features rearranging into a genuine smile that did not quite fit her vibe. "Okay, I think you can go rest for now, Aoi. The break's starting in half an hour, we're having a celebratory buffet for our last day in Seishin High today. And then after that, everyone gets to test out their floats, and I'll let you choose whether you want to practice some more, is that okay?"

"Thank you, Sugiyama-sensei." Aoi bowed. 

Sssuch dedication, it warmsss my heart ssso. 

Aoi stepped off the stage, heading towards her violin case in the corner. She crouched down, setting her desecrated violin in its place. 

Looksss like a little violin casssket to me, don't you think ssso too?

"Shut up," Aoi bit out, in the lowest tone she could register. The metallic scent of her blood wafted into her nose, and she dabbed at her cheek with her sleeve. "What were you doing up there? And I've said it before, Hiro's not interested in either of us, not with the way you're trying to pull him anyway."

Cho didn't respond. 

Aoi almost threw her hands in the air. "And my strings! The Saino's tomorrow, and I don't suppose you know how to restring my violin and fix the bridge."

Again, the spirit was silent, a chastised child pondering over her actions.  

Aoi reached into her violin case, removing the spare violin strings from their packaging and uncoiling the steel strings. A sharp burst of pain struck her head, searing frost so cold it was boiling her nerves. The world went black. 

And when Aoi opened her eyes again, she was back in her prison, powerless to even lift a finger. 

Cho curled the strings around her knuckles, a disturbing grin playing on her lips as she stretched them taut. "This will do perfectly, don't you agree?"

What? Aoi's eyes bulged. She cursed herself for not realising sooner. No.

"Well, there's no time to find new strings, and you haven't liked any of my ideas so far." Cho rose from the floor, kicking the violin case shut. "Your teacher said you had half an hour. Time is of the essence, little violin girl."

No, no, please, Aoi begged, even though her knees wouldn't bend. Leave Noriko alone, leave me alone. You have nothing against us. I'll have prayers done for you, you'll be at peace, Kimura-san, no more trapped anywhere or in anything, I promise, please. 

"You were just unfortunate, little violin girl," Cho said, exiting the auditorium, flexing the strings between her hands. "Your offer is tempting, of course, but I promise you, once I am done with this, I will be at peace."

Aoi writhed in her own body, trying to wrest free to no avail. Kimura-san, please, please don't do this. What will you even gain out of this? Miyazaki-san moved on--

Cho stopped. She placed a hand over her chest. "Even after all this, you still fail to understand me. Kenjiro left me, even after all his promises and claims of love, and then he imprisoned my soul in an origami. This trapped, helpless feeling you have now? That was my suffering all these years. And then he moved on, just like that, like I never existed!"

She wound and unwound the strings on her wrist. "I'll give him something to remember."

Peals of tinkling laughter erupted from the ground floor, and Aoi's stomach sank. The butterfly had flown straight into the spider's web, and she had been the bait.