Early May. The Jinchuu High School Sports Festival.

Don't worry, I'm going to recap from toward the end of April, first. I like a good timeskip, but there's no fun in missing all the buildup.

Miss Yawara, on a seemingly unassuming spring day, was patrolling along the benches and bunches of people grouped up in the sports hall, her whistling jangling at the hip. Her face was etched with a determined scowl, as if the had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Or she could just be grappling with the reality of her job. I have days like those, too, Nana. I get you.

Anyway, among those assembled onto the uncomfortable hard wood benches of the sports hall was, of course, Shintaro. In fact, all of Class 2-B was awaiting their marching orders from the diligent drill sergeant pacing back and forth in front of them. Finally, after another couple of rounds of pacing, Miss Yawara came to a stop.

"Alright, kiddos," she accounced, in a voice even more pronounced and smouldering than usual. "It's nearing the end of April, and you know what that means."

"Golden Week holiday?" asked Kotaro, a smirk lining his lips.

"Well, yes, Golden Week..." she lowered her voice to a subtle growl that only I could detect, "not that I get any time off for that..."

Before she could correct Megishima's jab, another boy raises his hand.

"Uhm, that would be the Sports Festival, would it not, ma'am?"

Despite the polite words I was hearing, when I followed them to their source, I was startled. Even the low, booming voice they were spoken in didn't really occur to me until I took a second to process it. He was a behemoth of a boy, to the point where I could barely believe he was a high school. A square jaw, a carriage like it were built to carry boulders, bushy brows and a close-cut crop of slim black hair, almost like a sturdy, dark helmet...

I turned to my trusty database. This here was...

"Ahem, correct, Saionji-kun."

...Ginsaku Saionji.

"Perhaps the most important event of the school year," Miss Yawara clarified.

For you, I clarified.

"And with just over a couple of weeks left to go, it's time we get started on sorting out the events, and, most importantly, making sure you're all in prime condition to compete," she explains, balling her hand into a fiery fist. "When you take to the field, you will no longer be mere students, but instead roaring machines, fueled by nothing by the desire for victory and valor!"

There was an awkward, almost terrified whimper of a cheer in reponse from the students. Shintaro, meanwhile, was just smiling along, like his head was full of helium. Actually, I already regret making that comparison. For all I know, with his alien biology, it actually could be.

Miss Yawara continued her epic spie- explanation for a little longer. About what competitions there would be on the day and which practice games she had planned for the coming weeks that would prepare everyone for them. But first, before all that, would be the physical examination.

Yeah, the physical examination, just a regularly-scheduled, normal part of Japanese high school life, nothing to sweat about. What could possibly go wrong?

Wait...

Physical examination!?

If they find out the truth about Shintaro, it won't just be a physical examination, the government will put him through a damn autopsy!

"Physical examinations will be happening today. First, report to the nurse's office for height, weight and eyesight examinations. Then, report back to me for the more intense parts. Remember, don't get too competitive, okay? Save that energy for the big day. Yeah?"

"Yes, miss!"

No! No, miss!

"Alright, kiddos, dismissed!"

---

Oh, God, oh Jesus, oh Buddha, oh... I dunno, Sugawara no Michizane!? They're all here, might as well ask 'em all! This is a disaster...

("What's a disaster, Nare?") asked a certain none-the-wiser disguised alien boy.

(Oh, nothing, just that we might be completely screwed.)

Shintaro and I were on our way toward the nurse's office, following in the wave of the trickling wave of students all flooding body-by-body down the narrow hallway. I had minutes to think of a plan of action, a time limit that even my genius mind was struggling with.

("Screwed?") he questioned, tilting his head like a puppy. ("The instructor told us about physical examinations... do human physical examinations also involve intense probing with sharp objects?")

(No... it won't involve that.)

(It's just basic stuff. But basic stuff will trip us up. Who knows how in-depth your disguise is? I mean, what if you have super hearing, or infra-red sensing eyes, or an organ in your mouth that spits acid?)

("...Well, I don't.")

(What if...!? ...Wait, you don't?)

("Nope.")

(Okay, well, that's a relief... hold on, but you definitely still have weird physiology. Remember that jump you did back in the volleyball game?)

("Nothing out of the ordinary for someone of my species.")

(Need I remind of you of where you are and who you're supposed to be right now!?)

Before I had any more time to argue the point with Shintaro, we were at the door of the Nurse's Office. A statuesque stunner of a lady, draped in a labcoat, was perched on one of the medicine cabinets, clipboard in hand. She had a flowing sweep of slick, black hair, a soft face with a pert nose, on which balanced a pair of studious, rectangular glasses. Under these glasses, though, was a pair of dark eyes, decorated with sweeping lashes like wilting butterflies, and burdened with heavy dark circles. According to my data, this was Fumina Yumehara, school nurse. While I was distracted with her, Shintaro had caught sight of the person in front of him in line: Shigenori. Instead of engaging his usual waffling, Shigenori was frozen still, not even able to turn and acknowledge Shintaro, twiddling his thumbs on his navel and leaning his head down to avoid any and all eye contact.

"Alright, uh..." Nurse Yumehara pushes her glasses up her small nose and squints down at the list of students pinned to her clipboard. "...Inuhaka? Inuhaka-kun?"

There's a rumble of mutters from the queue, which had form into something like a bulging mass of people around the entryway into the Nurse's Office. Something about hearing this made Shigenori even more self-conscious.

"Ah... ah, sorry, there was an eyelash over the name," she breathes, flicking something off the clipboard with her finger. "Oohaka-kun, you're next."

There was some muffled laughter from some of those toward the back of the queue. Shigenori, his chin sinking so far into his chest I thought the two might fuse, stumbles forward and toward the weighing scales. Nurse Yumehara draws a low curtain around that area of the office, in some attempt to offer a smidge of privacy from the horde waiting at the door, as he steps on. She notes down the result, then he steps off, and she takes him to the height measure and eyesight test to do the same there. She at least has the decorum to discuss the results with Shigenori privately, in a quiet voice and outside my earshot, but the crushed expression on Shigenori's face alone was enough to know that it was an awkward conversation.

Shigenori passed by Shintaro without a word. A couple of snide, quiet jeers of "Inuhaka" and "dog" caught his ear, only accelerating his exit.

"Okay, next is Kiriguchi-kun," calls Nurse Yumehara.

Naturally, this ellicited no reaction from the owner of this name. So I gave him a gentle nudge in the back.

"Ow!" Shintaro yelped. "I mean, ahem, yes?"

She beckoned him over, and I floated not far behind. Fine, call it weird, whatever, I'm not letting him out of my sight, and I am not losing my job over this. When stepping onto the weighing scale, Shintaro seemed oddly concentrated, as if what he was about to do would take a great amout of effort. One of his hands was hiding inside his trouser pocket.

("...I see, okay. Yes. The human Jintaro will get through his physical examination with top scores, and become a prime candidate for off-world military service!")

There was a click, then the sound of creaking metal, and the needle on the weighing scale shot way past the maximum. Reacting to the crunch coming from the machine, Nurse Yumehara glanced over and, after a second to process it, was stunned. A similar reaction from yours truly wasn't far behind. According to the dial, he weighed over 1,000 kilograms.

(W-W-What are you doing!?)

Without thinking, I'd dashed in and hooked my arms around his from behind, floating up with all my might, lifting him to keep his whole weight off the scales. I grunted and groaned, scrunching my face into a ball of stress from the sheer amount of effort it took to bear even one iota of it. If I dared let go, I had a feeling the scales would drop through the floor.

(These examination scores are important, yes? So I used my Mass Shifter device to increase the mass of my shoes. Now, nobody will even stand a chance at matching my weight score, and Ji... Shintaro will definitely be treated favourably in the selection.)

The dumb grin of satisfaction on his face after doing this only ticked me off even more. I snatched the device from his pocket where his hand was stuffed and crushed it to smithereens before Nurse Yumehara could see.

(No, he won't. Shintaro will get perfectly normal, average, human high-school student scores. Got that?)

His face drooped, and, luckily, before the scales got any closer to splitting straight in half under the weight, the needle shifted back into the centre of the dial.

("O...Okay, Nare.")

Nurse Yumehara, who'd had her eyes on the machine this whole time, watched the numbers stabilise again, and rubbed her eyes. "I knew one coffee wasn't enough this morning..." I heard her mumble to herself, and then she asked Shintaro to step down so she could measure his height. A respectable 171 centimetres. He didn't take too kindly to having the marker lowered into his head, and I kept a close in case any of the apparatus turned off his disguise. I had no idea how it worked, of course, but better to be safe than sorry.

(How long have you even had that for?) I grilled him about it as soon as his height measurement was noted down. (Seems like it would've really come in handy before.)

("Since I first crash landed here. Oops, I said it again. I mean, arrived. How else do you think I was able to prevent my landing craft from leaving a huge crater in the ground? The Mass Shifter only works...") He scoops the shattered fragments of the device from his pocket. ("...Only worked on objects other than myself. So I used it back then. If I hadn't, since I was falling all the way down from the lower end of the Thermosphere, this whole place and everyone in it, me included, likely would have ended up... well... like you, Nare.)

Last up was the eyesight test. He sat down in front of the chart and was given the eye occluder to hold.

("Nare.") After a few seconds facing the chart, his voice came out soft and straightforward. Never a good sign.

(Yes, Shintaro?) I sighed.

("Is this... an interrogation? If I fail to read the coded message on the wall... and I fail the examination... will I be punished?")

I could tell he was genuinely concerned, but I had the opportunity to get back at him for scaring me on the weight check.

(Well... you could say that...)

("Seriously!? Oh no... and I don't recognise this cypher! What do those angular lines mean...? If I use my translator here, in front of this scientific adjudicator, I'll fail right away, I just know it...")

(What awaits you if you fail is...)

("Oh no... oh no... please...")

(Those.)

I point at the glasses perched on Nurse Yumehara's nose.

("...A visual aid? Like the one that the Tsugumi human wears?")

(...Yes.)

("So... if I fail... my punishment isn't forced labour on a conquered planet, or the death penalty... but technology that will improve my shortcoming?)

(Yeah, that's right. I know I was joking with you, but, is it really that surprising?)

The idea seemed to weigh on his mind for a bit, long enough where Nurse Yumehara got bored of watching him space out with the occluder in his hand and gave him a push, guiding him through the process. As he went through each line of the eye test, a contended smile grew on his face, probably from realising that he didn't even necessarily need to know what each letter was, just whether or not he could see it clearly. In the end, Shintaro's vision was, for all intents and purposes, perfect, probably due to some sort of space laser eye surgery or something.

I breathed a hefty sigh of relief. Aside from one little scare, the physical exam didn't raise any eyebrows. All that remained were the physical fitness tests. Phew, and there I was, getting in a flap about it all...

Wait. Physical fitness. And that means...

On his way out of the Nurse's Office, Shintaro brushed past Kotaro, who was also waiting his turn.

"Looks like you aced it," he crowed. "Though, we all know who out of the two of us is the taller one. Can't let you get ahead of me too often, y'know?" He ran his hand through his hair, leaning against the doorway. "But this is just the warm up. You know what comes next. The fitness test. You beat me last year, I'll give you that, but this time, I'm not lettin' you get a single second ahead in any of the categories. Mark my words, little Shin."

Shintaro still had a hard time knowing exactly what to say to Kotaro, and to be honest I was lost too, but I hovered nearby and held out my hand; encouraging him to offer a handshake. Kotaro took him up on it eagerly, swinging his hand in with a muffled slap. Hardly the most elegant execution, but can't knock it if it works.

"See you on the track," he said, and made his way ahead in the line.

(Let me repeat this before we get anywhere near any sort of timed fitness exercise...)

("Mh?) Shintaro was nursing his hand.

(We want nice, average, inconspicuous results, okay? Unless you've got any plans this weekend to be carted off to a government research facility.)

("Average... Inconspicuous... okay, understood!)

Shintaro procures another device, this time from inside his blazer: the same holographic translator device he used when he first landed here.

("This should do the trick.")