Fullmetal High – by BandGeek99
Sorry this is so long, I couldn't find a place to break it... Oopsies!
Anyway... FMA re-written in a nineteen-eighties styled high school setting. That means jank computers and jank TV. This is as advanced as technology will be getting. Set in 1917 still. (How does THAT work?)
Anyway. Rated for Bando Antics, Ed's mouth and future violence. (What is a story without homunculi, right?)
I mean no offence to bandos. I AM a bando. But this is the way it is sometimes.
If anybody can get the other anime references, please say in a review! Cameo appearences for those who get it!
And see if you can guess who I put myself in as! (It shouldn't be that hard XD)
There are four blocks, each 90 minutes long. C block is split in half for people in band/chorus. One has Band for forty-five minutes, then lunch for twenty five, then a study/language/chorus for forty-five as well.
Hope this helps!
So… the English room is… the next left…? Oh, shit, no that's my trigonometry class… Oh, crap, where the hell am I? Winry Rockbell stared at her school map intently, willing it to lead the way to her B block class.
When she'd moved from the small, country town of Risembool to the city of Central, she wasn't quite prepared to be so confused on her first day of classes. The whole school was a square, every way you looked it was exactly the same, and there were almost a thousand students trying to fit through hallways that were far too small for the abuse.
So far, Winry only knew where her advanced shop class was after her fast orientation, and since it was her A-block class, IT WAS UNDERSTANDABLE. But beyond that… Winry was clueless.
People jostled her back and forth in every direction as she tried to make her way forward, clutching her binders, her map, and her lucky wrench as though her life depended on it.
As she passed each classroom, she checked the small signs outside each one, watching for room 218.
A – HAWKEYE, ENGLISH 11H
B – HAWKEYE, ENGLISH 11A
C – MATSUZAKA, XINGESE II
D – HAWKEYE, ENGLISH 11B
She gave a small sigh of relief, pushing through the crowd to the room and wrenching the door open. Hastily, she slid into the room and made her way to a desk at the back, near one of the windows overlooking the city.
There were a few students there already, but they did nothing but glance up at her idly before returning to their activities.
A young blonde woman sat behind the desk at the front of the dull, blandly decorated room. Her hair was pinned back, save for her side swept bangs, and she was dressed sensibly in a black top and black slacks. Her russet eyes were focused on the top form in a stack of paperwork and Winry gulped when she noticed a small handgun sitting beside the pile.
Oh, no, I'm so screwed… I'm going to get shot, I just know it…
More students filed into the small classroom and took seats near their friends, away from the lonely blonde mechanic in the corner. All the students, that is, except for one girl. She had deeply tanned skin, rather like the people of the Ishballan race, brown eyes, and wavy brown hair with bangs dyed a bright pink. She saw Winry by the window and waved before plopping into a seat across the aisle. "Hi!" she said. "I'm Rose Thomas."
Winry smiled nervously. Though she didn't have the trademark eyes, there was a chance this girl was still an Ishballan, and Winry had heard that the people were still very touchy about what had happened to their city. "Uh, hi. I'm Winry Rockbell."
"You new to Central?" Rose asked knowingly.
"Uh, yeah, I'm from Risembool. My grandmother brought me out here to open a mechanic's shop. You know, automail and prosthetics, cars, stuff like that."
Rose smiled. "So that explains your wrench!"
The blonde looked down and noticed that her fingers were still clenched tightly around the tool. She laughed nervously. "Eh heh… yeah… I guess it does."
"I moved here last year from Lior with my boyfriend Kain," Rose said, tugging her bangs ever so slightly. "He's a senior, a year or two older than us. So, are you nervous for your first day?"
Winry nodded, letting out a scared chuckle. "You could say that."
Rose nodded with empathy. "The first day is always the hardest, but don't worry. After that it gets much easier. Most of the people at this school are really nice, so I wouldn't worry about making friends. Oh, and my friend Paninya, she's from Rush Valley, anyway, she's really into mechanics and automail and stuff so… Oh. I guess I'm rambling, aren't I?" Rose giggled in embarrassment and looked down at the scratched top of her desk, blushing crazily. "Sorry."
Winry felt any uneasiness she had once held fly away and she grinned at the other girl. "Don't sweat it. It happens."
"Would you all please sit and quiet down, please?" the blonde teacher asked briskly, standing and putting her handgun in her holster. "I'd like to begin class."
The students did as they were told, the handgun not going unnoticed.
"My name is Lt. Riza Hawkeye, and I'm a long-term substitute for the fair part of this year. I know that your usual teacher was rather easy-going… I will warn you now. I am not." The lieutenant's gaze traveled over each pupil, making them shift uncomfortably in their seats. "I expect work to be quality, done diligently and on time. I will do my best to help you succeed. But you must put in the effort yourselves. After all; I don't give grades. You earn them."
This cliché line sounded ominous and foreboding coming from Hawkeye.
"I know that most of you have been in the same class as each other for a while, so I feel the need to introduce our newest student. Winry Rockbell, would you please stand?"
Winry felt the blood rush to her face as she stood, still holding her wrench in her hands. She gave everyone a nervous smile and waved.
"Winry is a new student from Risembool. Please do your best to make her feel comfortable here. Winry, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?" Hawkeye patiently watched her student, whose blush grew even deeper.
"Er… Well, I'm from Risembool. I live with my grandmother… we moved to Central to start a mechanic's shop. We make prosthetics, I specialize in automail, we work on car engines, that sort of thing. Er… I'm in marching band, I guess, and um… yeah. That's all I can think of right now." She sat down hastily, willing her seat to disappear through the floor. Way to go, Rockbell… You sure know how to make an idiot of yourself...
The door slammed open and a boy stood there, panting and leaning on the doorframe for support. He was blonde and maybe an inch taller than she was; he didn't look like a junior, that was for sure.
Hawkeye cocked her eyebrow. "May I help you?"
"Yeah, Lt, is this English 11-A?" the boy asked, straightening up a bit and pushing some of his bangs out of his face.
"Ah, Edward Elric, nice of you to join us. Yes, this is English 11-A. Please take your seat."
Edward (was that his name?) sighed and obeyed. He slid into one of the seats at the back of the room, putting his feet on the desk and folding his arms across his chest, watching the teacher with mild interest.
Hawkeye glared at him for a moment before shaking her head and beginning with the curriculum she'd written out for the day.
Winry tried to listen, but she felt her eyes wandering to the boy, Edward, the lowerclassman who'd somehow managed to get into their class.
He was gorgeous, if you asked her. She'd never seen hair or eye color, like his: perfectly golden, not a trace of any other color there. It was beautiful, but slightly unnerving. He didn't wear the usual sort of clothing that one would have expected from a high-schooler. Instead, he donned a pair of black pants, black boots, white gloves, and a black shirt under a long red trench coat. If this weren't strange enough, there was a cross with a snake entwined into it, topped with a crown and wings sewn onto the back of his jacket. It was a most curious sight. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were drifting down to a notebook on his desk.
Drawings filled it; not ordinary drawings of things that a typical guy would like, such as cars or devious plots to burn down the school, but circles. Intricate circles with patterns and drawings inside them. Scribbled writing was jotted beside each one, and Winry assumed it was his. What it said, however, was beyond her.
An hour later, the bell rang, marking the end of the second ninety-minute block and the sign that she should move onto C-block.
"So, who's that lowerclassman who showed up today?" Winry asked Rose quietly as the two headed into the sea of students.
"Oh, that's Edward. And you know, he's actually a junior, too," Rose said with a laugh, poking Winry's shoulder.
The blonde girl felt her jaw drop to the bowels of the Earth. "Whaaaa?!" she shrieked loudly. Her books and wrench fell to the floor and several people turned to give her a strange look.
"Just cuz he's short, doesn't mean he can't be our age. In fact, most of his classes are already college level. They call him a prodigy." The brunette bent to the floor to help Winry gather her things. "And yeah, he's really good-looking, but he never dates anyone. Apparently, according to Scieszka, he's focusing on finding a cure for his brother or something."
Winry's brow furrowed as she shuffled along next to her new friend. "A cure for his brother?"
"Mm-hm, apparently he's got some really weird, rare disease that they don't have a cure for, and so Edward's been working really hard by taking all kinds of science courses to find one. Their mom died a while back and they both took it really hard, I guess. They're all they have."
She nodded and glanced back down at her map. "Do you know where the music room is? I have band for C-5."
"It's right by the front entrance. Do you know how to get there?"
Winry nodded, even though she really didn't. Well, she had a vague idea, but she was always bad with directions.
Rose smiled and waved goodbye. "Hope you have second lunch; I'll see you then!"
Edward sighed when he pushed open the door of the band room.
People were scattered about, playing loudly or talking with their friends. Percussionists stood at the back, banging out their cadence, while piccolo players tried to blow out each other's ears with their obnoxiously high instruments.
Edward watched the drummers pump out their beats and sighed. Back before… the incident, Alphonse had been a percussionist. He had always wanted to be in the drum line when he got to high school; but it never happened.
"Hey, Elric, get out your horn and meet us in the practice room for a sectional!" someone shouted and Ed sighed.
"Shaddup, Russell, I'll get there when I get there," he hollered back, waving his hand dismissively. He turned the corner just after the door and opened the small, compact locker on the bottom row, pulling out a case about ten inches high and fourteen inches long. The blonde reverently set it on the floor and opened it, smiling.
It was a trumpet that had been locked away in the attic for years, ever since Al had quit, saying he'd much rather play rhythm than brass. After the incident, Al could no longer play, but Ed took it up, though he wasn't sure why.
"Uh… I guess this is the band room…"
The prodigy glanced up to see the nervous looking blonde from his English class standing beside the long row of lockers, looking around.
"Yeah, welcome to the smallest band in Amestris. There are only sixty five people. We're the Central High Marching Band, the Spartans. Stupid name, really, but I guess I don't really know enough about mythology to appreciate." Ed shrugged. "I'm Ed Elric. Which section are you in?"
"Did I hear saxophone?"
Both students turned to the corner where a quiet, Xingese boy sat, huddled in a dark black cloak.
The boy stood and grinned evilly, light touching no part of his face other than his mouth. "I am Nekozawa," he said, his voice thickly accented. "And this is my puppet. Beelzenef." His hand shot out from under the cloak with a small hand puppet adorning it.
Ed sighed. "Ignore him. He's the drum minor, but he still has no idea what he's doing. And he's been trying to con every single saxophonist into playing bari sax."
Nekozawa gasped and tears fell down his face and out the hood. "He doesn't like us, Beelzenef! How rude!"
Winry had seen plenty of crazies in her lifetime, but this topped it; the puppet began to stroke its master's head of its own accord.
"Your section leader is that girl over there with the pink leggings," Ed said dully, pointing to a girl in the corner with long, brown teased hair in a side pony. "Just don't piss her off."
The blonde girl nodded warily and watched him pick up his trumpet and walk away, hearing the quiet but noticeable clicking of low-grade automail joints.
"Er, Ed!" she called after him, hoping to ask him about it.
He looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Er… Who's your mechanic?" she asked him, pointing at her left leg.
His golden eyes widened and he hissed, "It's none of your business!" before turning and striding away to the practice room.
Winry was taken aback. That only confirmed that he had automail. But… "Why hide it?" she murmured to herself. Her eyes grew dreamy and her stance slackened as she thought of it. "The hiss of hydraulics, the beautiful sheen of the metal… Automail is the most wonderful machinery in the world!"
"Glad to see you think so," a new, very feminine voice said with a laugh.
Winry spun around to see a brunette girl with short brown hair, round glasses, and a bright smile on her face standing beside her. "Er…"
"I'm Scieszka, I'm the drum major," the girl said, holding out her hand.
"Winry Rockbell, alto sax." They shook hands.
"You play alto, huh?" Scieszka asked.
"Yeah, since fourth grade."
The mood suddenly changed and Scieszka's smile became evil and plotting. "Would you consider switching to bari?"
"B…bari sax, you mean?"
"Why, of course. Ours just quit a week ago. Conveniently, though, you transferred here… What do you say?"
Winry considered it for a moment. She had been playing saxophone forever, maybe it was time for a change… "Um, sure, why not?"
Scieszka began jumping up and down, cheering loudly. "Yes, yes, yes!! I'll go get Major Hughes, he's the band instructor this year, and he's gonna be so happy!! BAAAH!!" The brunette grabbed Winry's arm and tugged her across the room to the band office where two men stood chatting about something or other.
"Honestly, Roy, why don't you get yourself a good wife? Maybe that'll help you handle all the stress from work," the first laughed, slapping his friend on the back. He had short cropped black hair, save one piece that hung out in front of his face. Winry wondered why he had it; it looked ridiculous.
The second groaned and rubbed his temple. "I don't need a wife. You're the one who gives me all these headaches in the first place." He was slightly shorter than the first man with messy black hair. Winry would have almost gone so far as to say he was handsome. But that would have just been weird, seeing as he was probably in his mid-late twenties and she was sixteen.
"Er, Major Hughes, Lt-Col. Mustang?" Scieszka said quietly, rapping her knuckles gently on the open door. "I have a new bari sax player."
The first man with the ridiculous haircut shrieked in delight and ran to Scieszka, grabbing her in a massive hug. "Oh, you are my hero, you found one!! Ah haaaa!"
The other man, Roy, sighed and shook his head.
The man who had glomped the drum major set her down and turned to Winry, beaming. "And who's this?"
"Er, I'm Winry Rockbell; I'm going to play bari."
He squealed (yes, squealed) loudly and grabbed her hands, jumping up and down. "I love you, I love you, I loooove yoooou!" he cried.
Roy approached the three and whacked the man upside the head. "Maes, calm down."
Scieszka laughed. "This is Lt.-Col. Mustang, and Major Hughes is the one who's so thrilled about the news."
"N-nice to meet you," Winry managed, smiling nervously.
"And you," Mustang said cordially, bowing slightly. "I'm sorry about my comrade, here. He's not terribly bright when something gets him excited."
"I resent that, Roy," Maes whined, letting go of Winry's hands and folding his arms across his chest.
"More like you resemble it," Roy said nonchalantly, leaning against one of the two desks crammed in the closet-like office.
Hughes huffed and turned back to the two students. "Well, whatever. Anyway, I'm Major Maes Hughes, band instructor this year, and this is my partner in crime, Lt.-Col. Roy Mustang, the percussion director."
Roy nodded his head.
"Anyway, I suppose you'd better meet Katerina, she's your section leader. That's the girl with the plaid skirt and the side-pony," Maes said, pointing out the door and across the classroom to a girl standing near a piano in the corner, gently fingering something out on it. "She's a good kid. Kind of crazy sometimes, keeps hearing all these songs and seeing colors in her head, she says… But that's just the way she is."
Winry didn't feel any more at ease.
Scieszka took Winry by the arm and led her over to said girl, who stood playing something quiet and sad. She kept murmuring the notes quietly to herself as she went along. Her nose wrinkled whenever she hit a wrong note and she hastily corrected herself and continued on a bit more.
"Hey, Trina, I have our new bari player!" Scieszka sang, still obviously way too happy for her own good.
Katerina looked up and smiled at Winry. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Katerina, but a lot of people call me Trina."
"Oooor Rina-chaaan!" a new voice sang, giggling madly.
Katerina sighed. "Oh, great. Here comes the Idiot Brigade."
"Rina-chan, that hurts! Why are you so mean?" the voice demanded and Winry saw it belonged to a petite girl with short reddish-brown hair and bright green eyes.
"Roy-chan, shut up," Katerina sighed.
The girl, Roy-chan, pouted. "Don't make me go ninja on your ass, man."
"Aw, I'm just kidding, Emerald, you know that!"
The other girl rolled her eyes and sighed.
Winry took in her appearance. She was very wild, with her hair spiked with hairspray, bright turquoise-and-fuchsia outfit, and striped leg-warmers.
"This is the percussion section leader, Emerald Smutler," Scieszka said knowingly, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "She's a senior this year, just like Trina."
Trina and Emerald exchanged high-fives.
"We did it, Mommy," Emerald said happily.
"We sure did, Daddy," Trina giggled in reply.
"We're section leaders!"
"We've made it!"
"Uber-awesome-thumbs-up-YEAH!" they both chanted, putting both thumbs up and grinning madly.
Winry felt her fingers reaching for her wrench… Must… defend myself… from the crazy monsters…Think of automail! Yes, you must live… You must defeat the crazies for the sake of automail! With a renewed energy, Winry set her jaw and whacked both girls in the head with a wrench.
They both cringed and yelped loudly, causing the low brass section to pause and look over.
"What the hell was that for, you nut?!" Katerina demanded, rubbing her swollen forehead. Tears welled in her eyes and she bit her lip fiercely, willing herself not to cry.
"You two are seniors! Grow up and act like the young adults you're supposed to be!" Winry hollered, brandishing her wrench in a violent manner.
"Y-yes, Winry-sama…" Emerald stuttered, shrinking to hide behind Trina.
"And quit it with the Xingese honorific crap!" she snapped, holding her wrench threateningly.
"Yes, ma'am, of course, ma'am," Trina managed, saluting stiffly.
Winry scowled at them and huffed away.
The rest of the day flew by. In addition to receiving a new instrument about twice the size of her, Winry had made a small cluster of new friends that included Scieszka, the bookworm of a drum major, Trina and Emerald, the two insane section leaders, and Rose, the quiet runaway with a big heart. With that came Kain, Rose's boyfriend, Josh, Trina's boyfriend, Meghan, a girl Trina knew from chorus, and Scieszka's friend Catherine Armstrong, whose older brother was in the military. Winry was fond of them all, but the whole day she couldn't stop thinking about Edward Elric, the mysterious boy who was hiding his automail.
Why would he hide automail? It wasn't something that one would normally freak out about. Actually, after the civil dispute in the East, a lot of people had prosthetics to replace limbs that had been lost in the fighting. Winry had been good friends with people in Risembool her age that had a prosthetic hand or leg. In fact, a couple of her classmates had even endured the automail surgery in an effort to live more normally.
She sighed as she meandered down Elm Street, the center roadway of the whole city. Cars sped one way and the other, pedestrian littering the streets, and the whole place seemed to be alive with something that Winry couldn't quite put her finger on.
"I'm going to watch that fight this afternoon," she heard one woman say to another as she stopped outside a hardware store.
"Ooh, I heard they're calling it 'Fullmetal vs. Flame'," her companion giggled. "So silly, though, that they'd name a fight."
"Isn't it that Fullmetal's yearly assessment?" the first asked and Winry, nose pressed to the glass of the shop window, felt her interest peak.
"Indeed it is. It's hard to believe that the Fuhrer King is actually supporting this, though. An alchemy battle! Honestly, one of those men is liable to get themselves killed."
"Would you honestly care if one of them did die?"
Winry's brow furrowed. She knew where these women were coming from, but honestly! Did they have to wish death upon those poor military officers?
"Er, scuse me, missy, but we're closin' up early today, on account'a the fight goin' on down at the military HQ. So, er, if yeh don't plan on buyin' anythin', would you mind comin' back on another day?" A man poked his head out the door and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
Winry let out a small puff of air. "Yeah, sure. I'm so sorry, but I'll be back tomorrow!"
The man grinned, revealing several missing teeth. "Ah hah! That's what I like to hear!" He chuckled heartily and waved. "Good afternoon, missy."
She gave a smile and small wave in a sign of "goodbye" and headed back down the street towards her and her grandmother's automail shop.
Pinako stood outside, her pipe in her mouth, and she waved to her granddaughter when she approached. "Winry, welcome home."
"Hey, Granny!" The girl smiled toothily and hugged the small woman. "Sorry I took, I stopped at a hardware store."
"S'fine. I'm closing early today, I'm going to go down to the military parade grounds and watch the fight," Pinako said with a grin. "You should come with, it'll be fun."
Winry was slightly abashed that her grandmother would take pleasure in watching two state alchemists fight, possibly to the death. "But Gran… That's… absolutely barbaric!"
Pinako chuckled and put her pipe in her mouth again. "Don't worry, they're human weapons. The military would never let them die."
Winry sighed and frowned slightly. "Okay, I guess. I'll just go drop my stuff inside and I'll meet you down there."
Pinako nodded and the two went in their separate directions.