Physics of Dodgeball (part 1: a straight ball can curve)

Owen had always thought school was bad enough on its own. Between Mrs. Chibara's lectures about historical dates no one cared about and Hikaru's endless conspiracy theories (which now included "Lilith as an alien ambassador"), life at Shizuka High was already teetering dangerously close to chaos. But having Lilith officially enrolled—and sitting directly behind him like some ethereal hall monitor—was like adding rocket fuel to a bonfire.

It wasn't just her presence, though that was bad enough. It was everything else she brought with her: the way students whispered about her during breaks, the teachers who couldn't decide whether to treat her like royalty or a science experiment, and the fact that she somehow managed to make even gym class feel like a royal decree.

Take dodgeball, for instance.

"Everyone change and meet on the court in five!" Coach Yamamoto's voice echoed through the locker rooms, followed by the predictable chorus of groans.

Owen slammed his locker shut with more force than necessary, already dreading what was coming. Hikaru appeared beside him, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Dude, do you think Lilith has ever played dodgeball before?" he asked, hopping from one foot to the other like a caffeinated rabbit. "I mean, does her dimension even have sports? Or do they just, like, joust with dragons or something?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," Owen muttered, tightening the drawstring on his gym shorts. "And for the last time, she's not from another dimension."

Hikaru's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "So you admit she's an alien!"

"What? No! That's not—" Owen pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what? Sure. She's an alien. She's whatever you want her to be. Just stop talking about it."

"I knew it!" Hikaru pumped his fist triumphantly. "Wait till I tell the Conspiracy Club!"

Owen resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest locker. Instead, he trudged toward the gym, mentally preparing himself for whatever fresh hell awaited him today.

Dodgeball was supposed to be simple—a chaotic free-for-all where survival depended on reflexes, luck, and occasionally questionable sportsmanship. For Owen, it was just another form of organized chaos he'd learned to navigate over the years. But today? Today felt different. And not just because Lilith was standing across the court like some ethereal wildcard waiting to upend reality.

She'd somehow gotten her hands on a gym uniform, though Owen was pretty sure the school didn't stock sizes for "interdimensional royalty." The shorts hung awkwardly on her frame, and the t-shirt was a size too small, making her look less like a normal student…

"Alright, everyone!" Coach Yamamoto barked, his whistle cutting through the din of chatter. "Split into teams and let's get moving!"

The usual chaos of team selection ensued. Whispers rippled through the crowd as everyone tried to figure out whether having Lilith on their team would be an advantage or a liability. Owen grabbed a ball from the center line, hoping to blend into the background—a tactic that had served him well through three years of high school.

"Is Lilith any good at sports?" Mei asked, appearing suddenly at Owen's elbow.

Owen snorted. "How would I know?"

"Aren't you two, like... you know?" Mei wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"No," Owen said flatly. "We are not 'like... you know.' We're not anything. She's just staying at my place temporarily."

Mei's eyes widened. "She's living with you?!"

"Not living—staying. Temporarily." Owen cringed as he realized he'd just made things worse. "Look, it's complicated, okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mei smirked, clearly not believing a word. "Super 'complicated.'"

Before Owen could dig himself any deeper, he noticed Lilith standing motionless near the sidelines, observing the setup with that same detached curiosity she brought to everything else.

"Hey, Princess," he muttered, sidling up beside her while the rest of the class continued arguing over team assignments. "You do know dodgeball isn't actually combat training, right? No one expects you to summon magical shields or anything."

Lilith arched an eyebrow, her crimson eyes locking onto his. "On the contrary," she replied smoothly, "it appears remarkably similar to siege tactics back home. Only instead of catapults, you use inflated spheres."

Owen blinked. "Right. Because nothing screams 'civilized warfare' like teenagers pelting each other with rubber balls."

"Warfare is rarely civilized," Lilith remarked, her tone casual as if discussing the weather. "Though I must say, using non-lethal projectiles shows remarkable restraint."

"Yeah, well, the school board frowns on actual murder," Owen replied dryly. "Budget cuts. Can't afford to replace students."

The corner of Lilith's mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close enough that Owen felt an unexpected surge of triumph.

"So what are the victory conditions?" she asked, eyeing the red rubber balls with newfound interest.

"Hit everyone on the other team without getting hit yourself," Owen explained. "If you get hit, you're out. If you catch a ball someone throws at you, they're out and one of your teammates comes back in."

Lilith nodded slowly, processing this information with the gravity of a general receiving battlefield intelligence. "A war of attrition, then."

"It's gym class, not The Art of War," Owen sighed. "Just try not to kill anyone, okay?"

Before she could respond, Coach Yamamoto blew his whistle again, signaling the start of the game. Owen found himself on the same team as Lilith, which felt less like luck and more like karmic retribution. Across the court, Hikaru gave them both a thumbs-up, his grin wide enough to power a solar panel.

"Don't worry, dude!" he called out. "If things get dicey, I'll totally cover you! Also, Lilith—if you suddenly glow or something, let me know ASAP. This could be groundbreaking footage for my documentary."

Lilith tilted her head, clearly puzzled. "Documentary?"

"Long story," Owen muttered, tossing a ball toward an unsuspecting opponent. "Just focus on dodging, okay? And maybe don't throw any fireballs unless absolutely necessary."

"Fireballs would be impractical in this setting," Lilith replied matter-of-factly. "The sprinkler system would activate."

Owen nearly tripped over his own feet. "That was a joke," he hissed. "Please tell me you're joking too."

Lilith's expression remained perfectly neutral, but there was a glint in her eyes that made Owen deeply uncomfortable. Before he could press further, the game erupted into full chaos.

The game began with predictable chaos. Balls flew through the air like angry hornets, narrowly missing heads and occasionally hitting walls hard enough to leave dents. Owen ducked, rolled, and retaliated with practiced ease, all while keeping half an eye on Lilith. She stood motionless in the middle of the court, observing the scene with the detached curiosity of a scientist studying lab rats.

"Uh… Lilith?" Owen hissed, grabbing another ball. "You might want to move. You're kind of a target."

"I see," she said calmly, still not budging. "Fascinating. Your species uses physical aggression as recreation."

"Yeah, well, welcome to Earth," Owen shot back, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. "Now would be a great time to stop being fascinating and start being evasive!"

Across the court, Taro—star of the baseball team and owner of an arm that could probably launch satellites—spotted Lilith's statuesque stillness. A predatory grin spread across his face as he hefted a ball, taking careful aim.

"Lilith! Move!" Owen shouted, already knowing he was too far away to help.

Taro wound up like a pitcher in the ninth inning of the World Series and let the ball fly. It shot across the court like a guided missile, heading straight for Lilith's face. Owen's stomach dropped. This was going to end badly—either with Lilith getting hurt or with her doing something unnatural that would confirm every one of Hikaru's conspiracy theories.

As if on cue, a ball hurtled straight toward Lilith's face. Owen braced himself for disaster—but then something strange happened. Instead of stopping outright, the ball curved unnaturally mid-air, veering just wide enough to miss her by inches before bouncing harmlessly off the wall behind her.

Silence fell—not among the crowd, but within Owen's mind. He froze, staring at the spot where the ball had been moments ago. That wasn't normal. Not even remotely.

Taro stood slack-jawed on the other side of the court. "Did anyone else see that?" he demanded, looking around at his teammates. "That ball was dead-on!"

"Must've been a weird spin on it," someone suggested.

"No way," Taro insisted. "I've been pitching since I was six. That ball did not move naturally."

Hikaru, ever the conspiracy theorist, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Okay, did anyone else see that? Or am I finally losing it?"

Most of the other students shrugged it off. To them, it probably looked like a fluke—a weird bounce or a lucky break. Even Coach Yamamoto didn't seem to notice, too busy shouting instructions to pay attention.

But Owen knew better. He turned to Lilith, who was already walking forward to retrieve the ball, her expression perfectly neutral.

"You…" Owen started, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Did you just…"