With a wave, Yuuna bid farewell to the Occult Club for the evening, and Tsugumi followed with a bow, subtly aimed at Shintaro, although Shintaro had only discovered waving, bowing was still beyond him at this point.

He'll learn eventually.

Before I could tell him to head home for the day as well, Fushigi approached him. He flinched for a second.

"Well that makes my life a little easier," she spoke. "Any longer with only one member and they'd ask me to dissolve the club and give up the room. If you and those girls hadn't shown up then I wouldn't know where I'd be. After all the upperclassmen graduated, I was kind of willing to give it up. But it looks like there's still some saps around with their heads in the clouds."

She placed her hand on the club application form.

"I better run this to the faculty office. Even among those that operate with the mysteries that lie beyond the boundary, none are free from the demon that is paperwork."

On the desk on the way out, Fushigi noticed, or perhaps remembered, that Shigenori was still in the room, asleep with his arms on the desk. I couldn't blame him for being tired out by what happened earlier. Fushigi's lips formed a smirk and she snatched a marker from one of the shelves, drawing spirals on his cheeks and clicking the lid back on the pen with a huff of satisfaction. 

"Maybe I'll even let this guy join if he gets his act straight. Idiot~"

She then returned to the door, but stopped for a moment to admire something.

"Aww, look at this little guy. Are you lost, sir?"

She crouched down to interact with the creature on the floor. She soon started to pet it gently. It was something shiny. And black. With two long, spindly antennae...

"A cockroach," announced Shintaro, as if answering a quiz question.

A cockroach.

"Mhmm~" replied Fushigi, and gave Shintaro a wink before leaving. 

Weird.

---

And with that, I eagerly skip ahead to the next exciting event for our protagonist: Shintaro's first volleyball game, the one that will decide his sporting career going forward.

("This is the ball-tossing batallion, yes?")

(Please just call it a volleyball team.)

("Ballyball.")

(Volleyball. Look, whatever, close enough.)

Shintaro was, currently, in his homeroom class, preparing to change into his P.E. clothes for ballyba- volleyball. We had waited until everyone else had finished changing so that the room was empty to prevent any complications, but I still waited outside the door, still not massively eager to see an alien strip. We communicated through the door as normal, the distance not impeding the telepathy in any noticeable way.

("So, um, Nare, what is volleyball?")

(Oh, you said it right this time. Volleyball is a sport, a recreational physical activity, where you have to hit the ball over a net into the marked area on the other team's side. But there's one catch: each person on your side of the net can only hit the ball once before it passes back over. That's why it's a team game.)

("We don't have any games like that on my planet. Most of them are played on an individual against individual basis.")

(Well you'll want to work with your team on this one. There are three basic actions: receiving, passing and spiking, so in essence, defence, support and offence, and it's impossible for one person to accomplish all of them on their own.)

("Impossible...")

(Don't even try it. It's Shintaro's... your goal to achieve a position on the school team's starting lineup, but trying to do everything alone like an idiot is not the way to accomplish that. If I give you any more help at this point I might as well just play for you, the best way for you to learn is to go out there on the court and experience it yourself. But still, try not to mess it up.)

("There was one sport I was known for being skilled at on my home planet.")

(Oh really? Well, maybe it won't be that hard after all.)

("Yes, it was a sport that required a lot of finesse and thought.")

(Oh yeah? What was that?)

("It was named... hmm... it's a hard one to translate. Let me check my device.")

There was a short pause before I heard another reply from him.

(Boulder, Sheet, Clippers.)

Of course. What did I expect?

("I was undefeated.")

(Good for you.)

("Although, I wasn't the best sportsplayer among the people I knew. There is one who is amazingly talented. Nobody could even hope to match them. T-")

(Alright, alright, get a move on. We're already late by being the last person in the room, we can't afford to chat.)

("I see...")

The door slid open and Shintaro appeared, wearing his P.E. uniform. I hovered around him to inspect his appearance.

(Everything seems to be in order. Uh... go get 'em?)

I slapped his back, and he looked at me in confusion. I had no idea why I thought that was a good idea. Soon after, we entered the gymnasium, and before anything could even begin, Shintaro was met with stares from everyone already assembled in the centre, a natural reaction for someone who was, at this point, about ten minutes late. One person, in particular, was shooting daggers right at his chest, and I recognised her from earlier. It was... Nagumo Yawara, the selfsame teacher who had picked Shintaro up by the collar and dragged him to class for being late on the first day. Her sharp features and dark eyes only helped to accentuate the deathly gaze she was giving, made clearer by the fact that her deep black hair was tied into a ponytail, with no hope of obstructing her face.

"Kiriguchi...this is the second time this week. You're clearly intent on testing my patience."

I had already taught Shintaro to apologise whenever he was in doubt about what to say, but this time no direction was needed. "Sorry", he responded, the vengeful aura emitted by Miss Yawara more than enough to make the reaction innate. 

He's bowing too!?

"Alright," Miss Yawara sighed. "I haven't got the energy to deal with this so I'll let it slide as it's the first week of school, but consider this a warning. Let's get on with class."

The boys all gather in a semi-circle facing Miss Yawara, who was, in stereotypical sports teacher fashion, holding a ball with a whistle hanging from her waist.

"The situation is as follows," she announced, raising her knuckle to her lips. "This will be the first of three practice matches during the first weeks of this school year, both to determine your base skill as players, but also to decide who will be on the first starting lineup for the year."

As the explanation went on, I scanned the crowd to see who we might be up against. As expected, Kotaro Megishima was there, already doing stretches and psyching himself up, as if the match he was about to take part in, in his mind, were some manner of Olympic-level, life-defining event.

I guess that's just how some people get in these stories.

The second person I came across, however, was much more of a surprise. Scrawny, with arms like springtime bean stems, Shigenori was somehow here as well, although he looked about as confused about this as I was. I noticed he was talking to himself, so I heightened my hearing to listen in.

"Curses..." he mumbled. "That fool of a nurse, for her to not be convinced by my performance is truly a disaster. How on earth could I not have seemed ailed to her? The amount of screaming and writhing should have made that obvious."

I think that was what gave you away if anything.

"It does seem, however, that my eternal companion, Shintaro, has also joined. Fate shines down upon me, my random selection of volleyball when forcibly coerced to select a sport was not in vain. I shall support him as much as possible."

Taken in my Shigenori's monologuing much more than I, or anyone, should be, Miss Yawara's announcement had already shifted into allocating the teams.

"Oohaka, you're on Megishima's team."

Shigenori turned around and looked toward Kotaro and the beginnings of his team. He then looked at the opposing team and noticed Shintaro. Shintaro waved meekly back at him.

"Curses!"

He skulked over to Kotaro's team, and along with him, the remainder of the teams were picked out. 

"Teams, take your sides. As soon as everyone is in position, we'll begin the match."

Everyone took their positions, with six players on either side. Shintaro started out as an outside hitter on the far side of the court, which, as lame as it sounds, relieved me. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being responsible for blocking and spiking right off the bat.

Kotaro was doing his best to rile up Shintaro from the opposite side of the net, flashing grimaces at him, but Shintaro was too far from the net to notice, no matter how many times Kotaro moved his head or reangled his attempts. One of the guys in front of the net, I think his name was Bonta, had a gaumless expression, and pointed at himself as if wondering why Kotaro was making those faces at him, but Kotaro just became flustered, groaned and then gave up.

"Let's get this game going," uttered Miss Yawara. "To start, it'll be heads for Megishima's team, tails for Tsumanaigawa's team."

The coin was tossed into the air and, catching it, she revealed it had landed on heads.

"Alright," said Miss Yawara, raising the whistle to her lips. "Match start!"