That morning, a figure stood outside the corroded gates, darkened eyes piercing through the morning throng in search of Noriko. The violin case she carried was slung on her shoulder at an uncomfortable angle, threatening to slide off and fall to the ground at any second, but the girl barely minded, a gleam in her predatory gaze as other students shifted around her and walked into Seishin, their eyes widening at one another as they whispered about strange little Aoi.

If one could still call her that. 

Trapped in her own body and enveloped by the chill of the spirit's soul, Aoi thrashed around in her prison, trying to force a cry from her lips, or the tap of a finger, anything, anything to alert the others that this wasn't her, all to no avail. Her eyes served as her only window, and she was no more than a movie buff in a cinema, watching everything unfold in 12D. 

Cho! Aoi screamed, using the spirit's name for what felt like the thousandth time as she tried to yank her foot off the ground. Leave Noriko alone!

"You speak as if I mean any harm to her," Cho replied in a whisper, her lisp gone as Aoi's own lips contorted to form the intruding soul's words. The corner of her mouth curved upwards. "I just want to have a little chat."

I freed you from your imprisonment, and this is how you repay me? Aoi demanded. She slumped back in her body, cold and weakened by the spirit's control. You're no better than any evil yokai.

A laugh rose from the back of her throat. "After all you've seen, little violin girl, you still don't find me wronged?"

Aoi made to spit on the ground, though her body no longer obeyed her. I see a bitter teenage girl who couldn't move on from a boy who stopped liking her. Typical drama, I can switch on my television and find better plots than this.

Aoi's hand slid to her neck, and squeezed. She choked. 

"So cruel, little violin girl. As if you've never fancied anyone."

An image of Hiro flashed through her mind's eye, one hand frozen in the air mid-wave. 

So what? At least I'm not stupid enough to kill myself if someone rejects me for someone else, Aoi snapped. And my life is none of your concern, Kimura-san. Sifting through my memories is rude.

"I let you sift through my memories yesterday, Aoi-chan," Cho said evenly, the smile on Aoi's face tightening. "I let you find out all about me, what happened to me, why I ended up in that paper butterfly, forced to suck the life force out of measly spiders to grow stronger, until I heard that melody again, until I found you."

Aoi's hand jerked away from her neck, waving as if pulled by a puppeteer's string. 

"But then again, if I hadn't sifted through your memories, how else would I have hidden our little secret from your mother?"

Aoi would have clenched her jaw if she could. After Cho's possession, she'd found Erika slumped on the floor outside the corridor she had last seen her, weakened and unconscious. Then, using Aoi's own voice, the spirit had convinced Erika that the whole ordeal had just been the singer's iron deficiency acting up again, despite the fact that Erika hadn't had an episode in over three years. Cho had also conveniently taken advantage of Erika's concerns and admitted that she was overstressed, after which Aoi's strict tiger mom had insisted on bringing her daughter home early to rest. 

The worst crime of all was that Cho had found her secret stash of limited edition Apple Pie Kit-Kats that she had been saving for a post-Saino celebration, and finished off every single one of them, much to Aoi's despair. 

"You're not mad about your little snacks, are you?" Cho simpered, not sorry in the least. "I haven't eaten anything in a while, much less something so delectable."

A black Toyota Harrier pulled up outside the gates, the door of the passenger seat opening to reveal a girl with a ballerina bun. 

Noriko. 

"Oh, look who it is," Cho purred, her pace quickening as she approached the car. "We should go say hi. You are friends, after all."

What are you going to do, Kimura-san? You promised you wouldn't hurt anyone. 

"Saying hi, of course," Cho murmured, plastering a pleasant smile on her face as Noriko spotted her. "And as far as I remember, the only thing I promised was to let your mother go."

"Aoi-chan!" Noriko jumped out of the car, pulling Aoi into a quick hug, whose body stiffened at the sudden embrace. "How are you? You didn't tell me you were going back so early yesterday, Hiro and I waited for you till the end of break!"

"I-I was overstressed." Cho gingerly pushed Noriko away, as if expecting the bubbly ballerina to shock her at any moment. She peered over her shoulder to look at the man in the driver's seat. "Is that your father?"

Gentle-eyed, tan-skinned and sporting a haphazardly-tied man bun, Miyazaki Kenjiro beamed at his daughter's new friend, utterly unaware of the resentful spirit stewing behind the stolen mask. He looked as if he had just woken up and thrown on his green hoodie to send Noriko to the training centre, with full intentions of heading home and back to bed right after. 

Cho allowed Aoi another glimpse into her past: a memory of young Kenjiro surprising her just outside of Seishin High with a green origami frog, making it leap from the tip of her nose to her forehead as she giggled. He hadn't changed much, only that the corners of his face had thinned down and matured with age. 

"Yes!" Noriko exclaimed, stepping aside fully as she gestured towards her father. "Otosan, this is Tsukada Aoi. She's the violin rockstar."

"Ah, this is the friend you've been talking about." Kenjiro nodded, his beam growing from ear-to-ear. "It is very nice to meet you, Aoi-chan."

Aoi snorted. But is it really me he is meeting, or you, Kimura-san?

Cho chose not to acknowledge her. The spirit was stunned upon seeing her old flame again, and Aoi's body had frozen under her control. 

Luckily, Kenjiro barely noticed. "I was worried that Noriko would be alone during training week. She was the only one from her school to be invited to the Saino, and you know how competitive it can get from artists of the same field. I'm glad she found some friends here."

"Otosan, I told you there was nothing to worry about," Noriko said, cheeks tinted pink with mild embarrassment. She made to close the car door. "Aoi and I are going to be late, we should get going. Bye, otosan!"

"Kids these days," Kenjiro shrugged his shoulders, his smile turned teasing. "You watch them grow up, change all their diapers, and suddenly you're not as cool as their popstar friends."

"Aw, come on, otosan!" Noriko went bright red. "I'll see you when I get back, okay? You're the coolest dad ever, you know that."

"I'm your only dad," Kenjiro replied, right before Noriko shut the car door. The window rolled down. "Have fun training, both of you!"

The window rolled up, and the car sped off. 

Cho still had not moved, following the car with her eyes as it turned the corner and out of sight. Aoi would have rolled them if she could. 

You're going to make me look like a creep, Kimura-san.  

"I'm sorry," Noriko said, prompting Cho to swivel towards her. The girl had apparently taken her friend's peculiar staring as bewilderment over her father's perceived oversharing. "My dad's just like that."

"It's alright," Cho responded. Aoi felt her frigid phantom fingers probe through her mind, crawling into crevices in search of something to offer to Noriko in conversation. 

Get out of my head, Kimura-san. 

Aoi tried to fight back, but there was nothing physical to punch, nothing to yank or scratch at, only endless, merciless cold rushing into her blood vessels. The chill ripped away at her resistance, the ghost hands growing sharper and sharper as they clawed their way through her childhood memories. 

Get out of my head!

The frost nipped away, countless spider legs scrabbling down the tunnel of her life's recollections, and gleefully wrapping around memories that she herself had locked away long ago. 

I'm warning you, get out!

Cho curled her lips into a wistful smile. "It's just... my father died when I was four. I wonder what it would be like if he... if he were still here."

Once I get my hands on you, I'll make sure you suffer worse than your death, Kimura Cho.

"I-I-I'm so sorry, Aoi-chan." Noriko's eyes widened. She swept Aoi into another, tighter embrace. "I didn't think— I wasn't thinking."

Cho patted her on the back, getting very much used to the idea of being able to touch the girl without recoiling. "It's alright, stu—Noriko-chan."

The spirit whirled Aoi's body around and began walking into the school, linking arms with Noriko to ensure the girl couldn't run away. "Let's talk about your father. He seems like an interesting... man."

"Oh, well, um..." Noriko blinked, starting to feel a little uncomfortable as Cho dragged her past cracked school walls overflowing with rich green moss and up the asphalt grounds. "He's a househusband, makes the best teriyaki grilled salmon... why are we going to the office?"

Yes, yes, why are we, Kimura-san?

"I just need to return something," Cho replied, nonchalant. "So Kenji— I mean, Miyazaki-san is a stay-at-home dad, how interesting. And what about your mother? You look just like her."

"M-my... my mother?" Noriko frowned, eyes widening in alarm. "You've seen her before?"

"Pictures, maybe?" Cho pushed open the thick glass door of the office, her grasp on her captive's waist loosening only to latch firmly onto Noriko's upper arm, pulling her into the office. "What is she doing now?"

You know, Kimura-san, it would be far easier to just tell her you're possessing me at this point. You're not doing a very good job of hiding it anyway. 

Noriko stared at the hand on her arm. "She's a sales director for an automobile company."

"Oh." Cho stuffed her hand into Aoi's blazer pocket and took out the old hexagonal key, placing it back into the keyholder. "Kanako-chan did always love capitalising on the good in things." 

"Kanako-chan...? How-how do you know my mother's name?" 

Cho led Noriko out of the office without a word, just in time to see the Umi no Shinju theater troupe walk into the school compound. Ginji scrambled ahead, spindly fingers rifling through pages and pages of script, muttering something to himself. Kimi and Hiro trailed behind him, as did the other twenty-something members, all of them looking very, very done with life. 

"Isn't that Saitou Hirotaka?" Cho murmured, her voice lowered. "The deciding factor in your little love triangle?"

Huh?

Even Noriko spun towards her. "Aoi-chan? Did you say something?"

"Nothing, nothing," Cho let go of Noriko's arm. "I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Slipping away from Noriko, Cho waved in the direction of the theater troupe. "Hiro!"

Confused, Aoi tried to force her way through Cho's thoughts, only for her prison to grow colder with a vengeance, its iciness burning through her. What are you doing now?

"I promised my will shall be yours, didn't I?" Cho allowed a sinister smile to creep to the corners of her mouth as she strode nearer to the theater troupe. "History is about to repeat itself, but this time, I'll make sure that we win."

She passed by the Yamasaki triplets on the way, handing out another dismissive wave much to Aoi's chagrin. "Great choice of song, you three. Keep up the good work."