One, two, one, two, one, two...

Aoi's bow slid across the strings at multiple angles, each stroke pulling forth smooth notes on the violin resting on her collarbone. The fingers on her left hand leapt across the fingerboard, sharp and precise as they fell on the strings, plucking and executing the pizzicatos that Aoi had practised so many times she could do it asleep. Her pinky finger struck the strings without hesitation, creating perfect vibratos which resonated throughout the music room.

Keeping her breath steady, Aoi's torso moved back and forth in sync with her bow movement, playing the final caprice of the legendary Paganini's twenty-four. Her mind was blank as the notes whirled in her head, all her senses numbed except for her hearing, which guided her across the tricky parallel octaves and double stops. Her eyes saw nothing but strings as she played on, a servant to the music she delivered from her instrument.

The pacing slowed and the melody grew almost tender, the notes like tendrils curling on one's arm. Aoi's movements became less bouncy and more relaxed. In the midst of the sinister notes, Aoi picked up on a whisper among the sharps.

Little violin girl...

Aoi's eyes flared, nearly dropping her bow. She recovered in time, dealing a flurry of high notes with alternating decrescendos. The strong melody drowned out the whisper, which fell silent.

As Aoi's fingers resumed their quick pace like a tarantula on fire, the strings on the violin began to fray and rise, each strings separating into strands as if they were made of hair. Shocked, Aoi struggled to keep up with the timing, sawing her bow on the neck of the violin desperately. The fibre strands rearranged themselves on the fingerboard, into a hexagonal pattern Aoi knew very well.

A gust of wind swept into the room, and Aoi's unbound hair blew over the body of the violin. She bit her lip, eyes haunted by the pattern stretching across the fingerboard. When her bow touched the pattern, it began to take effect on the bowstrings too, the horsehair fibres fraying and tangling without disrupting her playing at all.

Aoi inhaled as she reached the next bar, playing with renewed vigour despite the patterns. The stray fibres grew faster too, the pattern growing down the fingerboard towards the tailpiece, closer to Aoi's face. Her notes became shrill and frenzied, the octaves rising as she played faster, her upper body bending and jerking as she neared the end of the piece.

Finally, she drew her bow hard on the closing four-note chord, the sound clear and final.

Clapping ensued, mainly from the supervising teacher Miss Sugiyama and the two other musicians preparing for the festival.

Immediately, Aoi dropped her bow and yanked the violin away from her body, casting it in mid-air.

The patterns were gone.

"Woohoo!"

Noriko's voice rang out, snapping Aoi out of her trance.

She turned to see her new friend sitting cross-legged on the nearby piano chair, wearing a lilac leotard and a big grin on her face. Noriko waved at her, and Aoi smiled back.

"Tsukada-san, that was incredible! I could listen to you play all twenty-four Caprices all day and never get tired of it. One of the best techniques I've ever heard," Miss Sugiyama said, prompting Aoi's gaze to shift to her.

Young, bubbly and positive, Miss Sugiyama had been assigned to monitor the music students before the Saino Festival. She was tall and buff, but made up for her intimidating stature with a warm smile and heaps of praise on each student.

Miss Sugiyama nodded at Aoi. "You've practised three times so far today, you may go and rest."

Aoi thanked the teacher, and stooped down to retrieve her bow, inspecting the strings as she did.

The pale horsehair was straight and fine, no patterns showing at all.

"That was amazing! You were like a violin rockstar!" Noriko twirled towards her, foxy eyes as bright as her smile. "How do you play so fast? I got dizzy just watching your fingers!"

Aoi shrugged. "Practice. If you can play it slow, you can play it fast."

Her eyes fell on Noriko's ballerina bun. "You're done with practice?"

Noriko nodded. "Our supervising teacher gave us a break, so I came to find you. Figured I could make it in time to see you play."

The two girls exited the music room, a large auditorium located opposite the block which they had visited yesterday. Upon reaching the corridors, Noriko leaned over the first floor railing, looking at the gardens below.

Aoi, however, found her gaze drawn straight to the storage room beyond. The flute girls were practising again, the sweet tune of Wuji flooding her sensitive ears. From that distance, she could see nothing but the metal grates which bound the seething darkness inside.

Ssstupid girl...

Aoi whirled around, shaken, but at the same time Noriko grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the railing.

"Look! They're finishing up the décor for the floats." She pointed down towards the gardens, where a group of students covered in paint, glitter and bits of paper stood around an array of papier-mâché creations. "They released the float arrangement this morning. Which number float is yours?"

The whisper was quiet once more. Aoi swallowed and forced herself to concentrate on the float decorations. The Saino Festival was always allocated a large budget, and pulled no punches when it came to the preparations. Each showcase had it's own float during the parade in the National Square, and naturally the floats were designed by Japan's most gifted art students.

While the performing arts students had their own individual showcases on each float, the floats were the visual arts students' showcase. As such, no expenses were saved in the creative process of the masterpieces intended to grace the floats, a visual accompaniment to the performing arts. Aoi saw a massive dragon in hues of striking gold and sea-green surrounded by shells and corals larger than her own head, most likely for the main stage in the Square, where Ginji's play Umi No Shinju would commence. Shifting to the right, she noticed a beautiful print of violins on a large textile curled meticulously to look like an old scroll. The paint on the violins was minimalistic, a dash of mahogany here and there and some fine lines to illustrate the bowstrings. The spaces between the hand-drawn violins were filled with geometric patterns, shaded in to place emphasis on the instruments themselves.

Geometric hexagon cubes. 

Aoi clutched at Noriko's elbow as the tune of Wuji played louder. "Hachi. Float number 8."

Noriko beamed at her, oblivious to Aoi's uneasiness. "Eight's a lucky number. My float's right after to yours, number nine. We'll get to perform together!"

She extended her fingers to touch Aoi's elbow, so their arms were linked. "I'm hungry. Let's grab something to eat in the cafeteria." 

As the Yamasaki triplets began rehearsing Wuji for the third time, Aoi couldn't have run faster down the stairs with Noriko, away from the block and the room's glowing eyes.