"To save on time, we'll be doing the fitness tests in pairs of classes. Today is 2-B and 2-D, tomorrow is 2-A and 2-C," she proclaimed, whistle jingling about her waist. With her was a slim, gloomy-looking guy with a stripey tie and fluffy, birdish hair who would've looked more like an overworked salaryman than a teacher if not for his round, tinted glasses. "So Mr. Matsuyama will be joining me today." Mr. Matsuyama tosses a hand up, but, after a glare from Miss Yawara, relinquishes and gives a small bow to her and then the students.

I took stock of the surrounding students. Tsugumi was huddled right in the centre of the group, still wearing her thermal underlayer, with Yuuna not far behind, equally skirting the line of what was permissable with her red varsity baseball jacket. Fushigi, much like her uniform's skirt, had also managed to tear holes in her gym skirt too. I wasn't going to press on whether it was intentional or not, but it made her stand out as usual. Shigenori, meanwhile, was trying to disappear as much as possible. He'd probably rather be anywhere else right now. Even off in space. Knowing him, definitely, preferably, off in space.

"The tests will be as follows," began Miss Yawara, tapping a whiteboard she'd set up in the middle of the field, and moving her pointer across each diagram as she listed each one. "Grip strength. Standing long jump. Seated toe-touch. Sit ups. Ball throw. Repeated side steps. And lastly the 50-metre dash." Mr. Matsuyama nodded blankly along to each one. "Alright, kiddos, any questions?"

Saionji whips his tree branch of an arm into the air. As if expecting it, Miss Yawara fires a finger over in his direction.

"Yes, Saionji-kun!?"

"Erm, pardon me for asking, ma'am, but, how will we be scored in each section?"

"I'm glad you asked," she responds, folding her arms. "Grip strength will be ranked by force exuded in kilograms. Long jump and ball throw by distance in metres. Sit ups and repeated side steps by number executed within one minute. 50-metre dash should be obvious."

"What about seated toe-touch?" called out Kotaro from right at the back of the group. For some reason, he had a headband with the word 'victory' painted onto it wrapped around his head.

Miss Yawara turned to Mr. Matsuyama and whispered amongst themselves for a moment. Then, she returned her attention to the students.

"We've officially agreed to no longer include seated toe-touch."

"Okay, without further ado," said Miss Yawara, eager to change the subject, "line up at Mr. Matsuyama for sit ups, and me for grip strength."

Shintaro turned to me as the bundles of students surrounding him started to make their way over to their respective teachers.

("Nare.")

(Yes, Shintaro?)

("I should start with grip strength, shouldn't I?")

(Yes, I know, it's all very confusing. Just follow me and it'll all be... say what now?)

("Grip strength. I need to practise managing my power if I want to blend in, and I imagine the device humans use to test it will only provide a reading after a set amount of time, right?")

(Y...Yeah, yeah, of course, grip strength first. Good way to test your limits.)

Shintaro, followed closely by me, joins the grip strength line. It looked like Miss Yawara only had two grip strength testers, so we were going to be here a while. I did some browsing on Ghost Isshuten to kill the time. Hm... always posting her holiday photos. Can't anyone tell she uses Photosh*p? Cat video. Cat video... Awh... ugh, ad... wait, Master Donut are doing a collab with the novel series A Vampire in Kyoto!? Could I convince Shintaro to go there, I wonder...? Does he even know what a donut is...?

This was all just to kill time, but even then, it was taking a lot longer than expected. After cat video number 10, I looked up and found out why: every time someone new joined the queue, he moved to the back again.

Eventually, and after nearly everyone had gone ahead of him, he was at the front of the queue, and I was back and ready to focus, and definitely not thinking about all the lovely limited edition donuts I saw earlier. Shintaro had the grip strength tester in his hand and was looking over at me with a grimace of determination. I felt bad for whoever was standing behind me because, to everyone else, that's who he was staring down. His brow furrowed, and he adjusted his tense gaze on the gauge attached to the back of the tester, and clenched his hand around it. At first, the numbers jumped up to almost 100, which spooked Shintaro, now knowing from the weight scales that triple digits numbers aren't the way to go. He let go and the numbers sank again, before he started again, increasing his grip bit by bit. A few more seconds passed and, when a wave of relief struck him, I saw the number stabilise. Though, as I had my eye on it, it looked more like he was aiming for that specific number...

"49 kilograms," noted Miss Yawara as she recorded it in her logbook. "Not bad, Kiriguchi-kun. Perfectly average."

Shintaro flashed her a dopey grin to celebrate his success. We then moved over to Mr. Matsuyama for the sit ups. Once again, Shintaro dodged his way to the back of the line. This time, I noticed he had something in his hand.

(Isn't that the thingy you showed me after the checkup? Your translator device whatsit?)

("Yes. I was using it in the line a moment ago. Didn't you notice?")

(Oh... oh yeah! Totally...) I gulped (Anyway, didn't you say something about it coming in handy?)

("Mhm. It's not just a Galactic Dictionary and Thesaurus, it's actually a... I'm not sure what humans would call it... a PDA, I guess? Basically, it has other functions too. All off-world Datura Domain residents are given one, with some exceptions.")

(Cool... cool...) I need to get me one of those... (So what are you using it for here?)

("It has calculation functions. You told me that I need to get average scores, so...") He leaned over the screen to cover it from outside view to demonstrate. ("...I used the integer gathering function. I... don't really know how it works, but it can collect and store integer data and you can use it to calculate things. Hold on, I, uh, might need the dictionary to find some words so I can explain this... ah... okay... so, according to the manual, it stores integers as 8-bit unsigned integer variables and then, once all of the data has been stored as individual integers, it assigns me an integer, like a point score from 1 to 10, which raises or lowers equivalent to whatever the most average reading was for that data set.") I hear his voice narrow and slow as he squints to read the explanation further. (Since, depending on the results, the average in a list of 10 integers won't always be the same as the one allocated to 5.")

("This... this totally makes sense. Wow, isn't Datura Domain technology the best?")

(Whatever you say, buddy.)

("Someone in that group also achieved 49 kilograms, so that was the number I aimed for, as well.")

(So you're just going for whatever number the doohickey tells you?)

("Yes. If I do it for every test, then all of my scores will not only be average, but also equivalent to another example human. Ergo, not a single anomaly.")

(Hearing you say that should put me at ease.)

("Does it not? I'm feeling quite confident.")

(When it comes down to it, I don't think anything you say could ever put me at ease.)

("Rude...") he pouted.

Luckily, the doohickey started to make me eat my words. In both the sit ups and repeated side steps, his numbers were nice and normal. The long jump proved a little more challenging, especially since a few people stumbled before their jump, or landed face-first in the sand instead (looking at you, Fushigi), but still his scores didn't stick out in any unusual way. At this point, even I felt like I could relax. Shintaro checks his device again, but as he hears some footsteps approaching, he stashes it back in his pocket.

"Ohoh, the whole Occult Club gathering in one place, what a coincidence~" purred Fushigi as she passed us, wiggling her fingers and spitting out flecks of sand from her tongue. Tsugumi and Yuuna were also on their way to the next event: the ball throw. "Or perhaps it's fate after all. I did wish upon my ever-so-reliable precious little crystal ball before we came, after all."

Yuuna simply tuts at her, while Tsugumi nods politely back at her, playing with the fraying tips of her bangs: "H-Hello, Genmyou-san."

"My, it is quite the serendipitous meeting, isn't it?" breeches a familiarly nerdy voice: Shigenori, limp-jogging over from his own attempt at the long jump.

"...Who are you, again?" asks a brazen Fushigi.

"I'm...!" exclaims Shigenori in frustration, but catches himself and reverts to his previous persona. "I... I am... Shigenori, from the Occult Club."

"Shigenori... Shigenori... Shigenori, huh?" Fushigi ponders, a pinky pressed on her bottom lip. "Nope, don't remember anyone with that name in the club."

"B-But...!" begins Shigenori, but holds his tongue. It doesn't take a genius to realise this is a losing battle.

"So, which one's been your personal best so far, Tsugumin?" asks Yuuna, ignoring the exchange.

"Me...? Well, if I had the option, it'd be none of them, but, if the teachers insist..."

"Yeah? What was it, then?"

"...The sit ups."

Yuuna stifled a laugh, sending Tsugumi straight into a crimson blush, tossing a concerned glance at Shintaro to gauge his reaction.

"Oh? What was your score?" queried Shintaro with unusual interest, probably to get an idea for if his method was working. This, however, only flared up Tsugumi's blush more, and she pretended to fiddle with her glasses as she replied.

"...Twenty-five." Something abouthe sea-blue of that girl's eyes meant she couldn't help but be sincere, even if she tried.

"Higher than me..." His attempt at a gasp comes out a little dryly but I doubt Tsugumi was of sound mind enough to notice. "I see."

"D-Don't let it get you down," she mumbled. "Some people take this seriously, but, it doesn't mean much in the grander scheme of things. Not like our actual exams."

"Well, wouldya look at that?" Yuuna bubbled. "You got Shintaro beat at something at least. Even if it is the sit ups."

"Quit teasing me..."

"In case you were gonna ask," Yuuna puffed out her chest, "mine was grip strength and repeated side steps. That's not just a personal best, either. From what I saw, it was top 3 in the group for both."

"As if any of us are surprised..." muttered Tsugumi.

"Oh? S'that a compliment I hear?" Yuuna ruffles Tsugumi's hair, making her squirm. As much of a wingman as she was, embarrassing Tsugumi in front of her crush was definitely not off the table, it seemed.

And so next up was the ball throw, but after the last few, I was pretty sure we had this one in the bag. At this point, I was accustomed to the loop of waiting until the end of the line for his turn, so I went back to scrolling Isshuten. Huh, a local Gifu travel account. Hey, I don't think I've seen this place before, looks really pretty... psh, as if I'd get the time off or the money to go anywhere, even as close as that.

Before we even got to Shintaro's turn, something caught my attention. Or should I say, someone.

Up to throw was Shigenori, his arm jittering. He clutched it, as if letting go might cause it to go berserk, and like a frail branch in the wind he lifted it high, ready to release.

"Plasmapierce... Pitch...!" he shouted, his voice breaking in the middle for good measure. Not something he'd be caught dead doing if it were Miss Yawara, but luckily the only reaction he got from Mr. Matsuyama was a plain, pitying smile, to say nothing of what was going on behind his tinted glasses. In Shigenori's mind, his chuuni battlecry empowered his throw greatly, but... the ball left his hand before he could even move his arm. In fact, it popped right out of his fingers as he swung his arm...

Meaning it went backwards.

"Erm... well... not sure how to log this one..." pondered Mr. Matsuyama to himself. "What is that? Minus one metre...? No, wait..." He watched the ball roll back toward and then past the waiting students. "Looks more like minus two metres."

"Uhm, sir, can I... can I take that one again?" pleaded Shigenori sheepishly.

"Afraid not. It's one attempt per. Make up the score in the last event, okay?"

Shigenori slunk away, surrounded by an ominous cloud of dejection. In contrast, a smouldering aura of machismo came in its place in the form of Kotaro Megishima. In keeping with the strategy, Shintaro stepped aside to let him go ahead.

"Oh, so that's how it is, is it?" he sneers sarcastically. "I finally get a chance to compete against you, one-on-one, and you think you can show me up already by being the bigger man and letting me try first? Or are you just gonna use my score as a benchmark, huh?"

"Yes, actually," stated Shintaro. "Your score will be a useful reference to me."

"Never one to stand on ceremony, were you, little Shin." Kotaro snaps his fingers and brushes his hands through his hair. "Well, you better get a good look, then, because this score is gonna be a lot more than just a benchmark... it's gonna be a ceiling." He swaggers ahead and swipes the ball from Mr. Matsuyama, stares down an invisible target in the far distance, lowers his centre of gravity, rocks his weight back and forth, winds up, blows his fingers, crosses his heart, looks at the sky, and... look he does a lot of blustering let's just skip through this. He then launches the ball with all his might. Even the ever-nonchalant Mr. Matsuyama was tickled with impress.

Strutting away slowly, Kotaro cracks his fingers. "So, what's the score, teach?"

"35 metres."

"Well, them's the breaks, Shin. Think you stand a chance...?"

Unless it was my imagination, I swore a saw a tear of sweat streak down Shintaro's cheek.