Explanation time!

As Echoes is still fresh in our minds, I wanted to write something to vent out the frustrations I had with Alm dying in the final chapter. Therefore, the idea of a Modern!AU was born. I fleshed it out with a fellow student a grade older than me, and we came up with something we are both familiar with: band.

We also sorta based this off our Canadian school routine/system, but since the story is in Zofia, we can basically mash together a bunch of countries and say it's the Zofian school system. High school is split into two semesters, each for half the school year, and the Zofian school year starts in April. What's logic again -

Anyways, enjoy it. First chapter's short, but there will probably be more to come,,,

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what lays inside the cavern. His hands clutch at the straps of his pack and he is ever-aware of the trusty sword at his side. The grounds are clear - is he late to the fight? He places both hands on the ancient wooden door.

This is it.

He pushes them open, and the new world swallows him whole.

"All of you are new to this, I know, but -"

The grizzled old man's wise words are interrupted unceremoniously by a sudden creak of the boarded door. Heads turn to the source of noise with bated breath. The man at the front, their teacher's brow is raised skeptically. What kind of punishment he will unleash on whoever has disturbed his annual niner-speech -

The door swings open outwards and everyone's vision is obscured for a second from the person who has opened it. Moments later, a lithe figure steps into the room.

He isn't tall nor short, he's an average height if one had to describe it. He's dressed casually, for a soon-to-come summer day, it looks; he's wearing a cerulean-blue t-shirt with an older band's logo, Deliverance, patterned in a faded white across his chest, and over that, a plaid red unbuttoned button-up long sleeve shirt, framing the icon in its open front. He is a myriad of colours, with the bright and bold ones on his shirt and drab ones on his shorts.

However, it's not the clothes that grab people's attentions, nor the seemingly confident way he carries himself.

It's the hair.

It's bright-forest-green and looks naturally windswept.

It clashes horribly with the rest of his outfit choice.

His stance is ready, but obviously tense. His fingers find their way under the straps of his bag and his mouth is a thin line, taut with nervousness.

Mr. Equess (that's pronounced eck-wess, thank you) decides to break the painful silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the entire class staring at the newcomer.

He's got to make sure, this has happened in his classes before. He asks, "Are you supposed to be in -"

"Sorry I'm late!" the student blurts out, effectively cutting him off. He seems to realize his mistake, late, just like his arrival, and claps a hand over his mouth. "Sorry! Go ahead."

This elicits a few chuckles from the rest of his music class. It's good to know that they're not all stony faces and silent minds, based on what five minutes he'd had with them before. Then again, niners were always like that - scared to hell out of their wits.

"Well, I think there's hardly need for that anymore, you've confirmed my question. Come on and sit down," he directs, recovering smoothly.

"Yes, sir," the green-haired boy responds, and hurries forwards to slide into a back row seat - it's still fairly close, considering there are no desks and the chairs are arranged in band format, a semicircle.

Mr. Equess searches for his train of thought, attempting to pick up where he'd dropped it. He sighs to himself. There went the rest of his speech.

"I suppose it's time for introductions. I'm Mr. Equess, your music teacher. I also teach the rest of the grades music, but I'll be nicer to you guys because it's your first year here. How about you, guy-with-the-green-hair, go ahead and introduce yourself. Say your name, your elementary school, and…" He contemplated playing a little icebreaker game this time around. "I'll try and guess your instrument."

"Uh, alright," the boy cleared his throat. "My name's Alm, I'm from Ram Valley Collegiate."

"Private school, eh? You look like a trombone, kinda...am I right?"

"Ah, I actually play flute."

A few surprised murmurs of flute? rang out, but Alm just looked bored. He was probably used to this.

"Flute?" This was gonna get interesting. "Didn't expect that. You ever think about switching to trombone?"

"Uh, no…"

He allowed himself a small smile. If all went accordingly, he would have a new low brass member for Rinea's concert band.

The game goes without any major bumps for the rest of the way. Everyone came from everywhere, there were a few from Ram Valley PS, some from Our Lady Help of Mila (that one was a more religious school), Zofia Central PS, and even one all the way up from South Rigel Academy. Not his most diverse class yet, but it definitely came close.

He finally turns his attention to the last student, a girl with strikingly red hair (youngsters these days and their weird habits…). She is sitting on the opposite side from where he started, in the second row.

"Um, my name is Celica, I'm from Lady Help of Mila," she says.

The hair colours and the names. Then again, his own name is uncommon, so he can't really point fingers.

"Is your hair natural?" he prods. He needs to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Oh! Um, yes, yes it is," she replies, looking slightly taken aback. "My father has the same colour."

"Interesting, interesting," he murmurs. He'll address the green hair on the other side later. "You play flute, Celica?"

At this, the brown-haired girl beside her with some sort of pseudo-double pigtails who plays the alto sax, Mae, giggles. He must have gotten it wrong, then.

Celica opens her mouth to speak, but he stops her. "Wait, let me guess. ...Tuba?" he suggests, picking the most opposite instrument to his first guess. Might as well cover all bases, right?

To his and most of the class' total surprise, she nods abashedly.

"Tuba! Really?"

Ah, yes, this class was going to be tons of fun.

Breaking instrument tropes 101

How do you like the instrument choices? Do you think some could be better or changed? Let us know in a review!