Lobbing the ball to Megishima, he was the first up to serve. Unfortunately, I had no way of reading his thoughts right now, no doubt it was something like 'I better win this match,' or 'this is all or nothing,' or 'watch this, Shintaro!' I could definitely pick up on the last one, because as the echoing squeaks of his sneakers against the glistening gymnasium floor rose up and he leapt into the air for his serve, his shot was angled right toward Shintaro.

As the ball sped toward him, I had a few seconds of time to assist.

(Shintaro, quickly, bend your knees and hold your arms like this. Oh, and uh, lean forward a bi-)

Before I could finish my sentence, the ball had struck him square on the head, and he toppled over. His classmates looked on in awe as the ball was in the air. Using Shintaro as a distraction, I guided the ball through the air, giving it a helpful arc for his team to make the pass. Your sacrifice wasn't in vain, Shintaro.

("Oww...")

(Try with your arms next time. We've got only a short time till we need to pick up the next ball, it's a quick game. Keep an eye on the ball and use your head. Well, actually, don't use your head...)

("Got it!")

He sprung back to his feet like he was made of rubber.

(When in doubt, watch what the others do.)

I saw Shintaro scan around the nearby players, and he then shuffled his feet to be shoulder-width apart. I was soon interrupted by a familiarly grandiloquent voice from the other side of the net.

"Foolish ball! Shudder in awe at my ultimate technique. Immovable Black Anchor!"

Unlike Kotaro, I have no trouble wondering what Shigenori is thinking.

He moved into a squat position and held out his arms, although for him it looked like he was lifting a mountain, with his lips puckered and... is he sweating?

The ball clashed with his arms and his bump was successful. Although, it was just an ordinary bump.

"Endeavour to return this, Shintaro my friend! The energy I have imbued into the ball with Immovable Black Anchor shall build and build with each successive pass, until it becomes a comet fired to your side, in the form of Shining Black Supern-"

His team had long since spiked the ball to our side of the net, courtesy of Kotaro, who seemed to be his team's ace. The rest of the team all had cringe plastered on their faces, doing their best to ignore Shigenori. This time, Shintaro didn't have to receive, but he ran toward the ball anyway. With me demonstrating the action of passing to him just in the corner of his eye, he was able to mimic it just well enough to perform a moderate pass and get the ball back over the net.

"Fantastic performance, my companion!" cheered Shigenori through the net.

Whose side are you on?

The match raged on, with Kotaro applying the pressure wherever he could. Even the person who seemed to be our team's strongest yet also somehow most average player, a guy named, uh, Bonta Tsumanaigawa, wasn't able to keep up the defence. I knew, despite how crazy it seemed, I needed to get Shintaro in a position to spike. After his blunder right at the start of the game, his teammates, understandably, weren't willing to send the ball his way.

From the other side, however, Shigenori was given his own chance, and made sure everyone knew about it.

"Here it comes! Starbreaker Starspike!"

Shigenori struck the ball as hard as he could, which to most of the players on the pitch appeared as if he barely hit it at all. As a result, it pinged off the net and wobbled away, providing Shintaro's team with a point.

"Curses, I forgot... for Starbreaker Starspike to succeed, the alignments of Betelgeuse and Aldebaran must be perfect! How could I have been so misguided as to brashly attempt it now?"

Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.

Shintaro's team were up to serve again, although it was Bonta's serve. It was also his team, but I was going to continue to choose to ignore that. He did so, well, averagely. It got over the net.

The opposing team charged into position and set up Kotaro for a spike, which had already imbued the Pavlovian reaction into Shintaro's team to step back and square up for a strong hit. Kotaro took full advantage of this, tapping it lightly with a smirk and bunting it just over the net, meaning that no one was close enough to reach it. At least, so he thought. Shintaro launched himself from the back of the court and slid the entire distance across the floor to the net, able to hit it up from the ground, much to the gasps of his teammates, who all scrambled to get the ball back over. Kotaro huffed from the other side of the net, looking down at Shintaro, who was nothing more than a pile on the floor, nursing his arm.

Was he impressed? But that was ridiculous...

Clearly far too embroiled in the energy of the game, Shintaro dragged himself back onto his feet and caught his eye on the ball. Without thinking, he leapt into the air to strike it, only to collide with the person who had already run up to spike it. The relieved, excited glow that the teammates once held toward him seconds ago faded away in an instant.

(Idiot...)

Shintaro, picking himself up from the ground this game more often than someone picks up litter, slunk back to his position. But his desire didn't seem dulled by his experience.

("Hitting that ball in the air... Jintaro would want to do that, correct?")

(You mean you would like to.)

("...Yes.")

(All I can say is it's a team game, remember? So prove to your team you can do it.)

He seemed confused by this at first but then nodded. The ball then flew back to his side of the net and, this time, he was able to nail the receive, some would say he even perfected the Immovable Black Anchor technique there and then.

The mood of his team lifted somewhat, and this was the moment I was waiting for.

(Go for it.)

("But last time...")

(It's fine. Go for it.)

The ball was reaching the setter, and Shintaro's head was still hanging, analysing what to do. I was about to push him forward myself, before he shot his head upward, flicking tiny beads of sweat from his brow, and calling out to his team:

"Over here!"

His arms were spread wide, and he moved into a sprint from the back of the court. There was no way that the opposing team hadn't noticed. Even I'd think the setter a fool for setting the ball to Shintaro with how much of a fuss he was making. But regardless, Shintaro ran, faster than I'd ever seen him, than I even thought him capable. The setter, Bonta Tsumanaigawa himself, wore a hopeless smile and readied himself. The guy that Shintaro collided with earlier also stood well back, observing the blockers on the other side, ready to jump.

Shintaro came to a dead halt before the net, the force of which thundered through the floor, and in that second leapt into the air, his feet thrusting off the ground without even knowing if the ball would go to him. Fortunately, Bonta had some faith in him, however slim, and the ball flew through the air across the court. But even Bonta was looking on in awe, as did everyone else nearby. Shintaro had jumped to a point so high, so quickly, that he appeared as if he were flying. Even Kotaro nodded approvingly.

Never underestimate extra-terrestrial athleticism...

He was in prime position. Shintaro was more than high enough to guarantee himself time to score. And so, he took his swing.

And missed.

The ball had already passed his hand, and he swept at empty air, before crashing back to the ground. One of Shintaro's other teammates saw this as an opportunity, and used Shintaro's presence as a feint, knocking the ball onto the other side of the court.

Watching that has really tired me out... I don't know how much more narration I can manage. Let's review the footage... hm... okay, it doesn't look like anything else interesting happens, and the game ends soon, so I'll skip ahead.

The match came to a relatively uneventful end, with Kotaro's team winning by a margin of five points. For the rest of the match, from Shintaro's perspective, I was floating in the air like a television on standby. I think he asked me for advice a couple of times, but honestly, I had nothing more to give him for the time being. His crowd-pleasing display was more than enough.

"Try not to worry too much about today's results," highlighted Miss Yawara. "Today is only the first of the test matches, and it's only the beginning of the year. Any mistakes made here are made knowing we can spend that time ironing them out later. For anyone who still wants to stay, we have ten minutes left before class ends, so some passing drills might be a good idea."

(Shintaro)

("...Hm? Oh, yes, me.")

(You should pair up with Kotaro. It's a valuable chance to pick up skills from the guy. As well as also, yknow, maybe find any weaknesses he might have.)

("Who?")

(Kotaro Megishima.)

("...It's not coming to me.")

(The guy we were just playing against.)

I point at Kotaro, who was busy fraternising with his teammates, jostling around and chuckling heartily.

("Oh, right. That oddly competitive human. Mm... sure! A rival's best place is by their side, after all")

That's kind of sweet.

("How else will I learn to brutally defeat him later?")

I can't say I didn't encourage this...

Shintaro wandered over to Kotaro, looking back every few steps, and I gestured with my hands for him to keep going.

"Oh, hey Shintaro," scoffed Kotaro, once he had finally arrived. He waved a hand at the others nearby, and they departed into the background. "Quite the feat, this game... I see even in defeat you're not willing to go down without a fight."

Despite his earlier words of confidence, Shintaro was unable to reply to him.

"I suppose you picked up on the fact that your team wasn't enough for you and thought you'd show off your jump despite your oncoming loss", breathed Kotaro. "I gotta say... smart move. Sometimes it can't be helped."

It looked like Shintaro was about to move in with a reply, but Kotaro cut him short, turning his head to the side and throwing his arms up behind his head, glancing at him from the side. "But you better get serious with me next game. I won't take you treating me lightly a second time. That is... unless you really have gone soft over the break." 

I think Shintaro could be the worst player of all time and this guy would still come over acting like they're equals... what did Shintaro do in first year that started this whole schtick?

"To be honest, I couldn't give a damn how the actual results of the next match go. It'll be me against you. A battle of 'Shin vs Ko' - 'New Vs Old'. So let's see if you've got any new tricks up your sleeve, Shin."

Shintaro still fumbled in silence, checking his P.E. uniform sleeves for anything he might be able to use. Kotaro meanwhile turned with a lighthearted scoff and tossed his hand in the air.

"Until next time."

Shintaro was only safe from human contact for so long as Shigenori, who had been awkwardly waiting for Kotaro to leave, dashed over when he saw the chance.

"Truly an untenable performance with that jump, Shintaro my confidant!" he cajoled. "I have already considered numerous applications for your ability. Should the alien threat arrive, and the leader of Deus Nostromo Maximus face us, your jump could allow us to stand on equal ground with their levitating fortresses! Your assistance is, as always, without peer. In fact, I believe the Occult Club should be consulted on this matter post haste, given that you are a member after all."

Ah, so that's what this is about...

Shintaro was soon dragged to the door of the Occult Club room without even being given a chance to change. The door clattered open, and Fushigi looked on.

"Good evening, dear president. I have a suggestion that will revolutionise our anti-extra-terrestrial escapades. Shintaro here has the magnificent ability to ju-"

The door was slammed on him, and the gust that bellowed out from it blustered Shigenori's loose hair about his forlorn face.

Don't be too harsh, Fushigi. I don't want to actually have to start rooting for this guy.