I arrived at the complex of six, all of them identical on the outside. Checking the time, I realized I had no clue when I had to be there for the activities. I should've taken the sheet with me but alas. And there goes my flawless streak.

I gazed at the vintage lamp post. There was always next year. And there would be. Now, which building belonged to the music club? They were pretty large, could multiple clubs use the same one? I didn't want to go door to door; it wasn't Halloween. That was a good one. What holiday did they copy for that one? To the back of the bus you go, random thought!

Looking around, I saw no one as well, how unlucky. I supposed the unfavorable option was a solo gamer. Why was I so against the notion? I scratched my head as I went between two of the buildings, the grass recently trimmed. I've endured, and would, countless awkward interactions. What was another to the bunch? However, I still refused to admit defeat.

I peeked into a window and ducked right away. I was nearly spotted by a passerby inside. And by the hint of blue, I ruled out that one; an orchestra couldn't practice in waters. It was like a game of sudoku! Only it wasn't sudoku at all and I was acting like a creep.

Upon enlightenment, I ceased my dubious behavior. If anyone saw the human sneaking around, rising suspicions would be just the start. The ridicule, the rumors, the looks. And I couldn't fight back with unconventional means; I made a promise.

Sighing, I sat down on a bench. I didn't feel like going at the moment. The sun was a quarter above setting, a few clouds had spawned to crown the golden orb. I liked how clean the school was. There were bins everywhere convenient, blending with their surroundings naturally. It was Japan, the standard had to be upheld regardless of the generation.

Squishing my cheek with a propping hand, I exhaled, my hair warming under the sun. The fight returned to me. Was I in the right? Of course I was. He deserved it. No one can call me a monkey except my fellow apes… I hoped that was how it worked. But…

Did I over react? He was about to do something. Wasn't prevention good? Like condoms? His parents should've used them, ugly bastard. A student passed by-

"Oh! Hey, excuse me!" I jumped from the bench, waving to the… whatever he was. Donning swimming trunks and carrying a duffel bag, he shyly asked what I needed.

"Do you know where the music club is?"

He nodded, pointing to the complex further from a building near the enclosed pool.

"Thanks!"

I jogged to the entrance. Inside, I walked past the first offices; the nameplates of staff nailed onto them. There was a fork in the hall. Right or left? Right. Because right was always right. And for once, I made the correct choice relying on half-assed quotes.

Knocking on the door with the club's name, I let myself in.

"Hello?" I said, around twenty students sitting in a circle, on chairs.

"Johnny-san! We were just about to start," one of the students stood up, gesturing for me to come closer.

Shutting the door behind me, I stopped beside the speaker, a hand behind my back. "I'm sorry for being late, I still don't know the layout of the academy," she looked formal, better hold back the autism.

"It's alright. I am Rita-san, the head of the club," I knew it! That she was important but still.

"Nice to meet you… all," I saw you, you little shit. The stinky seagull took a picture of me, he didn't even turn off the flash!

"Please, have a seat," we both did, cementing my place next to her for the time being. "Now that all members of the club are here, I'll begin."

To the new members, me, she gave a rundown of the ambitions and future goals of the music club. Personal weekly projects that involve researching past musicians, practicing assigned instruments on one's own and in a group. And speaking of groups, there were events! That one poster about the full moon festival? Bingo. I thought my stage days were over but nope, the show must go on.

And I couldn't object. Music was a must for any decent gathering. There were at least two events every month and they were mandatory; everyone had and would contribute to society. I should get familiar with the full moon festival, then, it's half of the happenings. There'd be a parade before…

Rexmas. Their version of Christmas. Every fiber of my being was dedicated to pulling myself together and not wheezing at how absurd the puns were. If Easter was called Eggster, I might consider hanging myself.

Besides the full moon festivals, there was the holiday, New Year's Eve, a spring celebration, a screenplay, and something in summer. I didn't say I wanted to burn under the light! But I couldn't go back, I just couldn't. I did like the flex and music.

I didn't like music. I loved music.

In diapers; the xylophone. With the retarded propeller hat; the kazoo. From the white girl tunes on the radio to mastering the most generic songs on the guitar, I loved every second.

I didn't fancy the idea of dedicating oneself to a single genre. Wasn't that exclusive? Segregating? Sure, common pop was ass but in every shit were golden kernels, gemeralds hiding in the rough. Rock, punk, classic, indie; I loved all children of the forefather of stones clashing against bones. If it pleased my ears, I liked it. If it didn't, I disliked it. It was that simple.

What wasn't so simple were the piano lessons my mother forced me to take. While I had grown a passion for riffs and costly electronic guitars, she tried to nudge me towards the Asian spectrum of success. Her mission was accomplished. Alongside the county strings were notes of old, two unlikely companions traveling through the ages, separating, reuniting. In this cycle, they were together.

And I couldn't harbor hatred towards her. It was a strong word, so was resentment and malevolence. If I could, I… wasn't sure. That hunk of wood had grown on me over the years. The keys' case once slammed down on my hands because I watched a challenge where a modern piano shut like a restaurant's door. Bandages were wasted that day.

"Next is… hehe, I don't think there's a need for that," the third year said.

"Huh? What?"

"Everyone was introducing themselves, Johnny-san… were you listening?"

"Uh- no- yes! I mean…" a few giggled behind their hands, one brave dude openly so.

"How about we do another round," she looked me in the eye, "but this time show our talent."

Boring. I was so bored I was fighting the urge to zone out again. The big shot went to the other side of the room where the instruments were arranged… from smallest to biggest.

„Holy fucking shit," I whispered, gawking at the organ at the corner. Must touch. No, resist, Johnny. It wasn't the same as a piano… but how would I know for certain? I had to test it… one day. I had my eye on the giant.

Returning to us with a violin in hand, the third year avian demonstrated why she was the leader of the club. It was magnificent. A melody so smooth and refined like vanilla ice cream. I detected no errors in the piece, no tiny mishaps as the bow crossed the tight strings. It only lasted a minute, I'd love more.

Once she was done, the rest clapped, praising her performance. The next held a trumpet, a nerdy reptilian sort. The turns rotated counter-clockwise; I'd be the last. While my sense of sound paid attention to the amateur, yet admittedly pleasant player, I faced the instruments.

I could choose a simple tool; a triangle was laughable, the tambourine was babyish, was that a cowbell? Damn, they had every kind of instrument. Every. Kind.

What was I thinking? This meetup was our first, first impressions mattered. Demonstrating what I had to offer with a fucking triangle would make me their laughing stock for years to come. And on the same day I laid a smackdown? Reputation; ruined.

I needed something powerful. Drums were great but I lacked a sense of rhythm… and practice. The bass was similar to the guitar in shape, that was where it ended. Anything involving blowing was out of the question. I didn't have the lung capacity to be a trombonist.

It seemed I couldn't expand my horizons. But if something works, don't fix it.

As the avian to my left started handling the saxophone like a master, impressive, I thought about how odd it was to have some many birds in the club. Seriously, half the club were various species of avians; a hawk, two of them, an owl, a seagull that kept taking pictures and if he wouldn't stop I… would do nothing.

Was I missing something? Did avians have a leniency towards the arts more than any other profession or were they racist? I got what I wanted because I was a human in a humanless world in the far future, still absurd to ponder, but what about the others? Were there students that wanted to join the club but couldn't because it was full? The seagull better turn off the flash before I lose my marbles. Yeah, that's right, feel my soul-penetrating glare! He put away his shitty little Zamzung.

"That was excellent. Now…" all eyes turned to me. The pressure was suffocating, to let down such an eager crowd would be a shame.

Getting up, I went to grab a…

„Nah," I grinned, my hand leading me to a beast with wider territory, „I got this…"

Dusting off the stool, I moved it a tad to the right before sitting, cracking my fingers. Glancing to my fellow members, I opened the case; it was an old one.

"I have a question, senpai."

"Yes, Johnny-san?"

"Is the piano tuned?"

"Of course, we repair all of our instruments at the end of the year, every year." That was good to know and respectable.

"Good… good…" caressing the keyboard from right to left, I froze my fingers in a villainous manner, raising them in the air, „Very good~" And slammed them down onto the deeper tones. A shock. Then, the piece began.

Using nothing but muscle and memory, I played a brutal fragment of a ten minute long creation whose maker I forgot. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, the Russian guy with the cannons and the frowning dude with round glasses were five of thousands of musicians lost to time. There could have been millions of masters, but their descendants are nevermore. Infinite potential snuffed out in an instant, worlds beyond worlds annihilated, blown into smithereens and cast into the densest stars. Ash to ash, sand to sand, dust to dust.

Many siblings were missing. However, the elder sufficed. I shut my eyes, picturing a small band of the best at the stage, their faces unknown. A violin, a trumpet, a harp, cymbals, and me. I filled in the absent, my heart churning for a return that was long overdue. The ship had sunk, the treasure looted, the crew decayed, the captain… forgotten.

It was a heavy piece, both in melody and notes. Battered transitions from a calm sea to a raging ocean. The paddles at my feet worked with the bombastic trauma for a subconscious reverb, the machine moaning for the touch of her inventor. However, I was but a maintainer, the old girl running laps and straining her aged innards in vain.

As I neared the end of the vision, abused squeezes became gentle presses, the lonesome melody slowing down to a ballad, then to a laze, and then… nothing.

Closing the case, I cracked my fingers again, "Phew, I'm a bit rusty but I think that was alright."

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" The third year screamed into my air, claps of applause in the background.

"It was fine. A few of the notes were off, I'll get to fixing that," I got up, returning with her to the circle. The joints in my fingers hurt a little.

She shook her head, "You are selling yourself short, Johnny-san. You have great potential and with your reputation…" her tone fell towards the end, a scheming grin, yup, however that works, on her beak. I disagreed with her but a compliment was a compliment.

Returning to our seats, the third year expressed her satisfaction with our talents so the normies weren't discouraged by the surprisingly skillful seagull. And me. We were all diamonds, with the right process, refining our shine was never impossible, her words, something like that.

And then the hour ended. Not the actual hour; the club's. She told us that club activities didn't have a concrete schedule. For now, becoming familiar with each other and the available instruments was enough. But when events arrived? I expected practice to bleed into the evening, that was the worst scenario. I didn't see how it was bad. A musician, on any level, should love music. You can't force a fisher to eat his catch.

Once everyone left, I went to the dorms. The sun was a third of the journey down, the air slightly cooler. There were students around, here and there, I felt safer under the collective's watchful eyes. Across the grass, along the main building, terminating at the male herbivore dorm.

Inside was a figure I hadn't seen in the morning; a female doe. She was talking with a student, both addressing me with a glance whilst still in their conversation. I didn't find her out of place; she had to be the housemother. Why not assign a male one to avoid awkward inconveniences? As if I knew. She didn't disturb me so I didn't disturb her.

Entering my room, I locked the door, throwing the bag to the foot of my bed before falling face-first into the mattress. "Aaaah~ Home, sweet home…" Then, I sprang back to my feet since I was sweaty. The bed was clean, changing covers often gave me a headache.

I also had to clean the room. It wasn't a hotel. Opening the closet, I found nothing new. But in the bathroom behind the door was a broom and a rubber mop. As long as I didn't trash the place and took off my shoes at the door, I could minimize… I didn't have slippers. Nothing a message to Miya couldn't solve.

Exiting the bathroom, I unpacked the bag. Math and cringespeak had homework to be done. Juno had yet to send me the material I missed during history class but she was probably busy with her own club. Since math was easier, I'd do that first. I wasn't looking forward to… the one who shall not be named.

But before everything, before I message either avian or canine, before I break my skull over the edge of the table deciphering ancient aquatic Egyptian… I needed a shower.