Love at first sight?

“Remember two minutes ago when I asked if you had lost your fucking mind?”

“Fondly.”

“I’m no longer asking, your lunacy is now clear as day.”

“Oh? Do elaborate.” God he was such a smarmy prick. Get that smile off your face, shitwig

“I’m 5-foot-1, scrawnier than a Leningrad survivor and have all the athleticism of a fat bloke stuck in an iron lung. What possible madness could possess you to think that I would even look in the general direction of boxing for any reason other than to say ‘I’m so glad that’s not me?’”

“Well it should be obvious that you need to train, right?”

“Train for fucking what? Are you telling me that instead of mouthing off at my opponents I should just skip the middle man and break their nose.”

“Not in your regular chess matches, of course. But that skill will be useful in your upcoming chessboxing tournament.”

I’d be monumentally pissed off at that giant shit eating grin if I wasn’t busy cleaning my ears out. I mean, there’s no way that I actually just heard that right.

“Sorry, counsellor, say that again?” I said, not attempting to hide the agitation in my voice.

“Your chessboxing tournament. The one where you’ll be representing the university, obviously.”

“Chess…boxing…”

“Chessboxing.”

“No, yeah, I heard the word, you bellend, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Somehow I could imagine it didn’t involve dressing up as life sized pawns and beating the metric fuck out of each other.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. Alternating rounds of chess and boxing, only ending in checkmate, knockout, time out or resignation. Or judge decision is there’s no decisive winner.”

“I see I see… and why in the everliving fuck would you think I’d be interested in this?”

“Oh, dear girl. It is incredibly funny that you think you have a choice.” I almost considered learning boxing just to wipe the smirk off the bastard’s face. “I mean, you do want to continue with your chess career, right?”

“Obviously, but when last I checked “knockout” wasn’t an acceptable way to win a chess game. If it was, believe me, I’d have tried.”

“You misunderstand. The only reason you’re rising in prominence right now is because you’re representing the college, and to do that you have to be a formal member of the team.”

“…what’s your point?”

“Oh, just that the teammates you called ‘as useful as the pope’s erection’ don’t really want you around anymore, and only agreed to keep you in the club if it meant you taking the spot in the tournament that none of them wanted any part in. The college has to send one boxer and one chess player, so…”

“So if I don’t go and get my teeth punched in, I’ll be kicked out of the club and forced to work a real job like some sort of peasant?”

“You do catch on quickly, don’t you, girl?” For a guidance counsellor, he really was a nasty piece of work. I mean, I’d known that for a few years at this point, but this really took it to new heights. I could see that bastard glint in his eye. He really wanted to see me get socked.

“Don’t worry, Nanako!” said Touka, grabbing my hands again. “I’ll teach you everything I know! With both of us doing our best I’m sure we can win this!”

I had to crane my neck a bit to look her in the eyes. Bloody hell, she was tall. At least compared to a short stack like me. She was way prettier from up close, too. Those shape features seemed to soften a little when you looked up close. There was a kindness in her eyes and a realness to her smile that made her seem like the very picture of feminine beauty, even despite her somewhat masculine face. To be frank, she was gorgeous. And hot. Insanely fucking hot. Made way hotter by the fact that I was literally head height with her tits. Was this what people meant when they said ‘love at first sight?’ Because there were a lot of things I’d love to do to her.

“Y’know, I’m not so sure about boxing,” I said, retracting one of my hands from her grip and placing my fingers under her chin, “but I have been in the market for a new top. Think you could help me out at all, beautiful?”

“Oh, this?” she beamed, pointing at her sports bra. “I got it at Uniqlo, it was 50% off!”

“I’d like to see it 100% off.”

“But… if the shop just gave it away for free, how would they make money?” She said it with absolutely zero irony in her voice. Absolutely nothing but genuine confusion and curiosity.

“…counsellor, are you sure I’m not an active danger to this… beautiful innocent creature’s health?”

“No, but with that right hand I’m absolutely certain she’s a danger to yours.”

“Oh? You a big deal in this whole boxing thing, then?” I said, turning my attention back to the one I actually wanted to look at.

“Yep!” she said, giving a proud huff. “My track record is 7-2-0.”

“Well I do love a girl with a perfect rack.”

“You mean track?”

“I know what I said.”

“Maybe this really was a mistake,” sighed the counsellor from behind me. No one asked you, dickhead. “Well, either way, I’ll leave you two to your introductions without my interruption. Oh, and Touka? Don’t break this one.”

“I’ll try!” she replied gleefully, waving at the counsellor as he closed the door behind him.

…I’m going to die today, aren’t I?