Is it Wrong to Love A Chuunibyou Tomboy? Chapter 1

Is it Wrong to Love A Chuunibyou Tomboy?

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For an early summer day, you doubted things could get any better.

You were fresh out of high school, having finally graduated and been accepted into the Guild. It had been a dream for years, the entire time you had seen others simply drop out of school to join. You had decided that you would stay in school so if Guild work was slow you could get a normal job. The entire time, you had known many of the drop-outs, but among them all, one stood out.

It may seem like fawning, or a childish crush, but IF was your hero. That’s right, the short, brunette girl who nearly always wore an oversized blue coat with a belt of cell phones. She became Guild Master before the rest of you had even made it to high school and possessed fantastic magical powers. You had followed in her footsteps to an extent, training your own magical skills after homework, during gym and to entertain friends. To be as good as she was… To adventure with all four CPUs at the same time… Just thinking of it seemed overwhelming, maybe even impossible.

Ping.

Hehehe… an update alert from your phone.

You never told a soul, but one of your pastimes is playing a game of Dungeons and Wyverns online. It had never interested you, but when online, you didn’t have to physically be around the usual type of people who invested their time into such games. Plus, the dungeon master that you played with was insane.

You didn’t mean it in a derogatory fashion, they had an imagination that should’ve been used to make books, movies and anime rather than play a specific niche online game. Plot twists came entirely unexpected yet justified as they went into detail about the little tidbits that the Master had left along your adventure up to that point with them. You look up.

Where the hell are you?

It looks like the forest behind the Guild’s building. A book claps shut. Someone is out there.

“TO STAVE OFF THE DAY, AND BRING ETERNAL NIGHT, I SUMMON THEE, ARCH DEMON ALASTOR!”

Despite your worst fears of a loose necromancer or such, as a member of the Guild, you feel obliged to investigate. The thicket that flanks the path resists your movement, and you can’t seem to find a way though quietly. You feel a flat among the twisted trunks of shrubbery, soon peeling back a piece of plywood.

You get on all fours, barely crawling through a passage cut into the thicket.
The voice calls out again.

“FUHEHUHEHEHEHEHEH! On the half eve of Solstice, this is the day which I have my last chance at such a summoning!”

Shit, you really do have to stop her, even if all you have are some magic which you have never used in combat and a pocket knife. You stand and push through a hedge. The ground seems to fall out under your feet.

You rub a knee, entirely unaware that the witch is right in front of you because of the sharp pain all over your body from sliding down a pit.

You look up.

The hem of a great… great blue coat comes into view.

Those green eyes and brown hair…

“WHAT!? IF!?”

IF is frozen in place muttering “I thought I was alone”. IF’s face is as white as paper in shock until quickly turning a bright red. You notice that she holds a leather backed notebook and a pen in the other hand. The red page marker ribbon flutters in the breeze in the dead silence. Another similar notebook is on the stump behind her with “complete” written on the title space.

As soon as you can move to speak, she flees, taking her books with in a desperate sprint.

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You’re late for muster, which also puts you on the receiving end of a brutal chew-out by your instructor. Being late to your first day sets a bad precedent, he says. Explaining why you were late would ruin the Guild Master, you had to take the blame and speak with her given the chance. There’s no way your childhood hero would moonlight as a demonic summoner. IF was if anything, dependable and upright.

As for your day, it goes about a very specific routine according to the instructor. You are to sleep, live, breathe, eat and drink the Guild’s very essence. He seems closer to a drill instructor than a teacher.

All day seems to be physical training, apparently the Guild expects absolutely nothing in the way of fitness for new recruits. By lunch time, most people are too exhausted to continue. You fare well, as you’ve been preparing your whole life for this, but are definitely starting to slow.
Lunch is served in a giant, very institutional appearing cafeteria. Women dish out ladles full of generic, filling if somewhat tasteless food. You scarf the food down, intending to look for IF. You get out the double doors, thinking frantically where such an important person could be.

“Hey.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, expecting an instructor to drag you back to the cafeteria.

A green bow catches your eyes the moment they open.

“Come with me.” IF strictly orders.

She seems to lead you about the campus, barely speaking. You find yourself on the roof, speaking with IF.

“So, you understand that I was ac- acting, and not actually a summoner, right?”

For some reason, she doesn’t quite sound convincing or honest.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Alright. I’m going to send you back to your group.”

“I’m proud to be working with you IF.” you say with a smile.

IF is taken aback, she seems surprised. She relaxes, letting a slight grin creep into the corner of her mouth.

“I thought you looked familiar. Don’t think that you’ll get an easy pass for being in the same class as me at one point.” she says with authority.

“I didn’t expect you would give any quarter, if anything you would probably make it more difficult for me.” You admit.

IF lightly chuckles, the walk back is much quicker than expected as you’re expected to keep her pace.

“You’re not wrong.” says IF with the semblance of a smile.

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Being in the Guild isn’t as glamorous as their advertising made it seem. Waking up at 0600 every day just to spend the first half of the day going through vigorous training and then the rest of the day “helping”. By helping, you mean that the new people were literally the support group for the rest of the guild.

As trainees, you did laundry, helped prepare meals, moved supplies, dealt with the dozen or so armories and lugging in the occasional exhausted adventurer who couldn’t walk any more. Using new recruits was cheaper than hiring contractors to do the work and familiarized everyone with the inner workings of the Guild. Those who showed exceptional skill in certain tasks were assigned as supervisors or put on promotion tracks to be part of the massive framework that kept this organization running. Even though they might work at desks, absolutely everyone, even the cooks were subject to the minimum combat standards. You weren’t here to be a desk worker though.

You were done, you had checked and doubled checked the one hundred service pistols, two hundred precision rifles, five hundred and eighty nine service rifles (11 were deployed in a training exercise) of Armory Twelve. Each armory was devoted to a specific issue weapon type of the Guild, excepting the special weapons in #7. You were pretty sick of sharpening blades, oiling mechanisms and checking expiration dates on potions. Of course, the moment you think that, something has to go wrong. The speakers bark an order at you with the voice of the Administrator, which oozes authority with the hint of kindness that an older woman has.

“ATTENTION ALL HANDS, GATHER AT YOUR DESIGNATED ARMORIES! FURTHER INSTRUCTION WILL COME FROM OFFICERS AND COMMAND!”

As a mage blade, you waited for an issue sword and pack of potions to recharge your magic in battle. What was going on?

IF appears, setting a hand on her hip while taking a few calming breaths. She deeply inhales before speaking. Her eyes are steeled, you can feel a battle approaching.

“We’ve assembled teams, as it stands, I’m in charge of you, the Magic group. We’ve organized this way to ensure that firepower is consolidated to deal with the Very Dangerous tier boss that has seemingly invaded for no reason. Stay sharp and follow ALL commands issued.”

So. Damn. Cool. IF doesn’t even blink, she seems more irritated by the involved bureaucracy than actually fighting a giant monster. As quickly as she appeared, IF ventures out, charging towards the north. IF’s nickname of “Wind Walker” is well earned, she outruns anyone in our battalion, not ceasing once before getting to our target.

IF skids to a loud, gravelly stop lowering her figure and staring at the target. Given that all we see are some fat, scaled haunches, we must be engaging a Dragon. IF clenches a fist, throwing a chimera spell of elements at the beast to check for vulnerabilities.
“Attention! Focus lightning magics on the it!” shouts IF while running for cover.

Hell yeah, I get to see what battle is like. Our battalion opens up, launching enough attacks to clear the tree coverage.

“You idiots! Scatter!” screams IF at the top of her lungs.

You get the message, but a few squads get incinerated. The dragon throws a clawful of explosives at your guildmates, pocket marking the increasingly hellish forest. A few ravaged trees burn violently while you and some mates take turns throwing lightning at the beast. Mud slides off the edge of the crater that you’ve used as cover. IF pops right up from the mudslide and the puddle in the middle of the crater, clawing her way to your group.

IF angrily pulls out one of the many phones on her belt, speed dialing the Administrator.

“WHERE THE HELL IS THE REST OF THE PARTY!?”

“ETA was fifteen minutes, please calm down.”

“WE’RE GETTING SHREDDED OUT HERE!”

“IF, I know you’re upset but the Healer and Knight groups are the closest to you. Fire support is currently unavailable, estimate for them is twenty minutes.”

IF grits her teeth.

“Delaying action, right?” IF growls through her teeth.

“Of course, magic was the quickest to deploy and by our measurements, likely the most effective.”

“Right, IF out.”

IF doesn’t look pleased. The firestorm of lightning only seems to irritate the Dragon.

“WE NEED BUFFS AND DEBUFFS RIGHT NOW, KEEP IT FROM MOVING!”

A golden feeling creeps into your mind. Is this what a buff feels like? IF whips out a ringing phone.

“Fire support is partially available, firing for effect. Keep people away from that thing.”

Behind the scattered and ragged band of magic users among the cratered wasteland of a forest, a series of truck towed guns and mortars coat the dragon in fire. Armor piercing shells score direct hits, taking the thing to the ground.
“NOW! ALL YOUR POWER INTO ONE ATTACK, EVERY LAST PERSON IN FIVE!”

You can smell the ozone in the air from all the charged magic.

“FOUR!”

IF shoots a mean glance at you.

“THREE!”

IF closes her eyes, mumbling a long string of unintelligible words, sounding extremely similar to Latin.

“TWO!”

Everyone has leapt from their cover, whether a old stump or a ten foot deep crater.

“FIIIIIIIREEE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The combined attack was only comparable to thousands of flashbang grenades all going off at once. Your ears rang, you couldn’t see and when your eyes finally recovered, many of your colleagues had fallen in exhaustion. The fading, pixelating body of the dragon shuddered with electrical energy, occasionally turning some of the earth into an almost glass-like solid with horrible blue arcs of energy. There’s no way in hell even half of that attack was your group. What did IF do?

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As expected of your vast separation in ranking, you don’t get a chance to ask IF for weeks. The number of potatoes you peeled and floors cleaned almost erased your string of questions from your mind. You expected to be the cool adventurers like you saw as a kid, not being hired help. You figure that all of this must just be a matter of proving your worth and working your way up.

“Oi.” says a firm, cool voice.

You look up from your bucket and rag, quickly standing to attention.

“IF! Didn’t see you!”

IF smiles and visibly relaxes.

“You should’ve joined the military with that attitude. Anyways, I heard that you wanted to know more about that lighting magic I used.”
IF’s dry humor was a song to your kitchen dutied and thoroughly busy worked out soul.

“Yeah, I-”

“Come with me, there’s no way to practice inside.”

The same old institution hallways of the main Guild building reflect the sound of boots, IF really doesn’t act like a girl. She walks like a guy and banters like one, it’s no wonder that she climbed the Guild’s ladder so quickly. She reaches for the bar of the door, pausing as her hand contacts. IF turns and looks at you.

“Did you really join to be like me?”

“Well, I guess. I might’ve thought I could do better.”

IF is actually smiling now. There’s a tired feeling hiding in there, but you can feel some kindness seeping out too. She chuckles.

“Sheesh, its like looking in a mirror. Hell, I’ll teach you for that reason alone.”

Her eyes wander away. It didn’t matter to you at the time, but soon you would understand.In your mind, you were just learning from one of the best.

IF’s calm, swelling power could be felt from a stone’s throw away. Her eyes slid open and she threw an arm forwards, launching a glorious bolt of lighting off her fingers as an archer would an arrow. The air crackled with the discharge of energy.

IF walks up to you, quickly interrogating you on what you saw in her power.

“Uh… I heard you speak, but I don’t recognize the language… I suppose your gestures would have also assisted in channelling energy.”

“Correct and the language is called English, or at least that’s what Vert calls it. It’s been the most conducive to magic in my experience.”

“Alright, so I just say the words and use the pose, and I gain a ton of power.”

IF stops just short of an actual facepalm, clearly frustrated with you.

“No No No, not even close. You have to feel and see the words, know what you’re saying and visualize it. When you repeat what I said with those emotions, you’re weaving magic, not just puking power out there like most rookie mages.”

IF looks at you, thinking heavily. Her eyes flicker slowly before she proposes her idea.

“So, if you don’t understand, I’ll have to teach you the way I learned.”

“Alright?”

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IF wakes you from your bunk in the barracks at midnight.

As quietly as you can, you escape the building, charging into the woods. The forest creaks and moans in the night. Wind whistles past your head, sending a flurry of leaves into the air. IF seems to reappear at your side. She looks uncomfortable, but shakes off her expression to lead you.

The thunder of a waterfall drowns the eerie silence of night as you venture down the trail.

IF turns to you on the bank of the waterfall’s pool. The moonlight transforms the water into a silvery liquid.

“Now, you have a picture of a Wa-tur-fahl, use this word and thought when projecting a water magic. Let the idea of it fill your mind.”

You turn away from IF, readying the spell and taking an appropriate stance. With feet braced and hands forwards as if holding back a great weight, you cast the spell.

“WATERFALL!!!”

A tsunami erupts from your hands, wiping foliage and earth away all the same. Were it not for your magic rapidly depleting, you would have likely caused a natural disaster.

IF is shocked, a little bead of sweat trickles down her forehead. She nervously pushes some of her hair over an ear before speaking.

“A-Ah- I think that’s enough.”

Her face is wracked with concern.

“I didn’t expect you to get it so perfectly on the first try. What… what changed from earlier?”

“I dunno.”

IF sighs heavily.

“Guess we’ll wait for you to chug some mana potions.”

IF sits on a boulder, playing with her phone. Mana potions taste like- well, really mana potions are just plain disgusting. Imagine that someone took a rack of energy drinks and then just added herbs, spices and mushroom distillates by some random choice process. It takes a great effort to not keep the foul concoction down, let alone enjoy your night with a churning belly. Your phone pings a Dungeons and Wyverns alert soon after IF stands, preparing her next lesson for you.

You try to take your mind off your in-progress stomach ache, thumbing through the game update.

The dungeon master has out-done themselves, with almost two pages of exposition and explanation for the newest foe…

Alastor? The demon? You’ve heard this before. What kind of insane world is this?

It’s too much, you’re alone and you have to ask.

“Oi, IF, I don’t know how to say this, but… do you manage a particular online game?”

IF’s suddenly bleached face confirms your suspicions.

“Of-Of all the people, somehow of 12 people, you’re one of them!?”

“Yeah. I dunno what kind of statistical anomaly that is, but-”

IF seizes your hands begging and pleading with all of her heart.

“Please PLEASE don’t tell anyone!”

Uh. You’ve never had anyone proselytize themselve at your feet. You doubt many people have in fact. What a sudden change too, a strong leader to an absolutely flustered mess.

“IF, get up, I won’t make fun of you. I play it only online for the same reason, I wouldn’t want to be seen playing.”

IF softens but shakes her head.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Why?” You want to ask.

That’s the last thing IF said before running away.

It’s hard to sleep with a sickened stomach. Especially one that sticks far beyond the effects of a potion.

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You didn’t see IF for weeks. Weeks turned to months. Administrators turned you away when you asked. You were putting on weight though, and in muscle form. Who would have guessed that a grueling routine of training and work would make a man of you.

Even though you tried, there was no way to shake that final feeling she had given you off your mind. The IF that had been your inspiration was quickly being changed, or maybe just revealed after your naive dream had worn off.

You walked into the same old stark cafeteria, still waiting on a mission other than helping emergency responders deal with some mundane car crashes, house fires or whatever else that they didn’t have the staffing for. Why would the Guild hire so many people just to keep them in permanent training? You’ve seen advanced, high level adventurers come back to base and be set onto doing the same boring tasks.

You take your slop and leave the cafeteria, some time alone would be nice.

The halls echo your footsteps. The cadence breaks. You turn to see a hooded figure, with a giant blue great coat obscuring the character’s body and face. IF.

She sweeps the hood down, lips trembling at just the sight of you. You were right.

“Hey.” is all IF manages out in a hushed voice. She brings a smile to your face.

“I was worried about you. You didn’t have to run off.”

IF blushes heavily, she swipes her face aside, resetting her expression to a less pleasant grimace.

“I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

You breathe for the first time since this encounter started.

“IF~”

Her face puckers.

The moment your mouth opens, IF clamps a hand over it.

She pulls you into a nearby room.
“Listen to me, I-I’m not gonna repeat this, so you better listen.”

IF is shaking, you can feel her unease in her grip.

“I dunno what you did to me, but I-I’ve never had a problem with ignoring guys… but you. What is so special about you?!”

Is this a confession? Your first confession?

IF turns, looking quite agitated.

“Go ahead, laugh me out of the room. Make this easy.” IF grumbles.

There’s a blossom in your heart. It won’t be killed that easily.

“IF.”


She looks at you over her shoulder, arms folded.

“I like you too IF!”

Her head turns back, hiding a ferocious blush.

“F-F-Flattery isn’t going to ge-get you anywhere!”

It takes all of your courage, but… Who gets a chance to date someone they’ve looked up to their whole life?

“IF, I don’t know your schedule, but can we find a day for a date?”

“A DATE!?!” IF repeats while and in between hyperventilating.

“Uh, yeah I think-”

IF steps to you, leaning towards you. Despite her hammering heart, she gains a sudden calmness, as she bears with her usual professionalism.

“Coffee shop, corner of East 150th and Eggman, Saturday, 1100. Meet me.”

Your heart can’t stop hammering, even hours after that. Holy shit, this is real. You’ve got a date with IF, this Saturday. Sleeping is going to be impossible for the next few days, praise any god out there.