If Kenji had thought the regular classroom experience was surreal, nothing could have prepared him for P.E. class. Standing in the locker room surrounded by actual seventeen-year-olds in various states of undress, he felt like he was committing some kind of crime just by existing.
"Takahashi-kun, you're really built!" commented a student named Sato (not Agent Sato, just to make things more confusing). "Do you work out?"
Kenji, who had spent twenty years maintaining the kind of physical fitness required for his job, looked down at his clearly adult physique. "I... stay active."
"Man, I wish I had your metabolism. I can't even build muscle no matter how much I eat."
"That's because you're seventeen and your body is still growing," Kenji replied without thinking, then immediately regretted it when several students turned to stare at him.
"Wow, Takahashi-kun, you sound like my dad," laughed another student.
"Ha ha, yeah, very funny," Kenji muttered, pulling on his gym clothes and wondering how he'd managed to forget the cardinal rule of undercover work: blend in.
The gymnasium was a cathedral of teenage awkwardness and competitive spirit. Coach Nakamura, a man who looked like he could bench press a small car, addressed the class with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely believed that dodgeball built character.
"Today we're playing volleyball!" he announced. "Takahashi-kun, since you're new, we'll see what you can do."
Kenji had played volleyball. Not recently, and not since college, but he'd played. What he hadn't accounted for was twenty years of muscle memory and professional training that had turned him into something resembling a competent athlete.
The first serve came his way. Without thinking, he spiked it with the kind of force that sent the ball ricocheting off the opposite wall like a missile.
The gym fell silent.
"Whoa," whispered someone. "What was that?"
"Takahashi-kun," Coach Nakamura said slowly, "have you played volleyball before?"
"A little," Kenji replied, which was technically true if you ignored the part where he'd trained in various sports for infiltration purposes.
"You're on the school team."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"The volleyball team. We need players for the prefecture tournament. You're exactly what we've been looking for."
"I don't think—"
"No arguments! Welcome to the team, ace!"
The rest of the class erupted in cheers and congratulations. Kenji stood there holding a volleyball, wondering how his life had become a sports anime.
After class, as students filed out of the gym, a girl with short hair and the kind of athletic build that suggested she took sports seriously approached him.
"That was amazing, Takahashi-kun! I'm Tanaka Mei, captain of the girls' volleyball team."
"Nice to meet you."
"I was wondering if you'd like to practice together sometime? I could really learn from your technique."
Warning bells went off in Kenji's head again. "That's very kind, but I don't think it would be appropriate."
"Why not? We're both students."
"Right, but..." Kenji struggled to find a way to explain that practicing sports with a teenage girl felt wrong on multiple levels. "I prefer to focus on team practice."
"You're really mature for your age, aren't you? Most guys our age would jump at the chance to practice with a girl."
"I'm just... focused on improvement."
Mei smiled in a way that made Kenji extremely uncomfortable. "I like that. Most teenage boys are so immature."
"Ha ha, yeah, teenage boys, am I right?" Kenji said, then immediately wanted to crawl into a hole.
Later that afternoon, Kenji found himself in the awkward position of attending volleyball team practice. The gym echoed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the rhythmic thump of balls being spiked, set, and served.
"Alright, team," Coach Nakamura addressed the group, "I want you all to meet our new member, Takahashi Kenji. He's going to help us win the prefecture tournament."
The team consisted of about fifteen boys, ranging from eager first-years to confident third-years who looked at Kenji with the kind of respect usually reserved for upperclassmen. Which, technically, he was, just not in the way they thought.
"Takahashi-senpai," said a first-year with the earnest expression of someone who'd watched too much sports anime, "please teach us your techniques!"
"I'm not really a senpai," Kenji protested weakly.
"But you're so skilled! And mature! You must have trained for years!"
"Well, I have been practicing for about twenty years..." Kenji said, then quickly added, "I mean, I started when I was very young."
The practice session was a carefully orchestrated disaster. Kenji found himself naturally falling into leadership positions, calling plays and correcting form with the kind of authority that came from actual adult experience. The other players hung on his every word like he was some kind of volleyball prophet.
"Takahashi-senpai, your spike timing is incredible!"
"How do you read the defense so well?"
"You move like a professional player!"
Each compliment made Kenji die a little inside. He was a grown man playing sports with children, and they thought he was one of them. The absurdity of the situation was overwhelming.
During a water break, the team captain, a third-year named Kimura, approached him.
"Takahashi-kun, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How are you so good at reading people? Like, during that last play, you knew exactly where their setter was going to place the ball."
Kenji, whose job literally involved reading people and predicting their actions, struggled for an answer. "I... pay attention?"
"It's more than that. You have this awareness, like you can see the whole court at once. It's almost like you've been doing this professionally."
"Ha ha, no, just... natural talent, I guess?"
Kimura nodded slowly. "You're different from other students our age. More focused. More... I don't know, experienced?"
"Everyone develops at their own pace," Kenji said, which was the most diplomatic way he could think of to explain why he acted like an adult.
"I guess. It's just refreshing to have someone on the team who takes things seriously. Most of us are just here to have fun."
"Nothing wrong with having fun."
"True, but with you here, I think we actually have a shot at winning something. The other schools won't know what hit them."
As practice continued, Kenji realized he'd stumbled into yet another situation that was both completely absurd and oddly heartwarming. These kids genuinely looked up to him, not because they knew he was an adult, but because they thought he was an exceptional teenager. In a way, it was almost flattering.
Almost.
The practice ended with Coach Nakamura announcing the tournament schedule and assigning extra training sessions. As the team packed up their equipment, several players approached Kenji with questions about technique, training regimens, and volleyball strategy.
"Takahashi-senpai, what's your secret to staying so calm under pressure?"
"Twenty years of life-or-death situations," Kenji thought, but said, "Deep breathing exercises."
"What about your physical conditioning? You're in incredible shape."
"I... do a lot of cardio."
"Do you have any siblings? You seem like you'd be a great older brother."
Kenji felt his eye twitch. "No siblings."
Walking home from school, still in his uniform and carrying a volleyball team schedule, Kenji reflected on his first day as a high school student. He'd been hit on by multiple girls, recruited for the volleyball team, and somehow convinced an entire school that he was a seventeen-year-old despite looking like someone who should be dropping kids off at seventeen-year-old activities.
His phone buzzed with a text from Agent Sato: "How did your first day go? Find any pudding-related evidence?"
Kenji stared at his phone for a long moment, then typed back: "I'm on the volleyball team now."
"What?"
"It's a long story. Also, I think we need to actually start investigating the pudding thing before I accidentally become student council president or something."
"Meet me at the convenience store near the station. We need to talk."
As Kenji walked toward the meeting point, he passed several Sakura High School students who waved and called out greetings like he'd been part of their social circle for years. Each friendly interaction made the situation feel more surreal.
This was either the most elaborate prank in the history of undercover operations, or high school students really were as oblivious as his boss had claimed. Either way, Kenji was pretty sure this mission was going to give him premature gray hair.
Well, more premature gray hair.