Episode Synopsis: Strings of Misfortune
Nanko Ginko, a second-year at Yaegashi High, never likes crowds. Her comfort lies in her old headphones and her sketchpad. But when Ginko’s best friend Ren brings a strange-looking music box into their quiet clubroom, she can’t help but ask, “Where did you even find that?”
Ren shrugs, half-smiling. “There was a box outside my house this morning. Maybe someone left it for mom.” The twins Rei and Riku join them, joking about old objects holding spirits and ghosts. Do you believe objects carry past tragedy, or is it just nonsense? Neither girl can agree on that. Ginko holds the music box, feeling a chill from the surface. The tune inside—soft and slow, almost half-formed—plays whenever she touches the key. She asks if Ren heard it before. Ren just shakes her head.
Rumors in school swirl. A girl, bullies claim, went missing after touching a ‘cursed’ item at the station. Faces change, but the legends grow each time the club meets. At night, Ginko dreams of long, shadowy strings binding her hands. Her sketches fill with dark tangles and pale faces behind them. With every note from the music box, another club member faces small bad luck: Riku slips down the stairs, Rei forgets an important test. Nothing is deadly, but it feels like something watches. Soon, Nanko keeps the box, worried for Ren.
One rainy morning, the object warps the clubroom clock. Time repeats. Every question Ginko asks falls on deaf ears – like events shimmer backward, for only her to relive. The teacher, Ms. Kawagoe, sees Nanko staring. “Are you all right? Your eyes seem… different.” Now voices flicker between her world and an echoing music motif behind her thoughts.
Fed up, Ginko stomps to the community library and finds a decades-old student file about a violin prodigy lost in a train accident, clutching a carved music box shaped just like this. Was the box left as a warning, or does it need someone to bring closure? Ginko mutters, “What do you want from us? We’re still here!” But there’s only static now from its clicking tune, the surface of the box colder than ice. 
That night she dreams of standing on railroad tracks, bound by black silk. Is this her fate—trapped until someone else takes the song? If you held a cursed item, would you keep it close or break it? Nothing is solved yet: finally, Ginko wakes at dawn, hovering over the box. It vibrates, ready to play one last, unfinished theme.
A shadowy figure stands in the club’s doorway. This time, its eyes meet hers and it speaks. The arc ends here, but who will survive the music box’s call? Next time, their stories tangle deeper than string.
