Not a Waifu

It was another typical night for Tim, and time to go onto Danbooru after a few odd, strenuous gigs! He closed into the screen as it loads. The first pic, another of those girls he didn’t recognize, with long black hair and altogether forgettable. She’s from, probably, SAO, and almost no one should remember her. The second one… Isn’t she from one of those harem animes? The art style looked like it. He had watched a few animes, but they were all the kind where the characters pick up a gig (like part-time animes) or a hobby (like K-On), like what he usually did. Deeper animes, occasionally, but not the kind that’s either apparently hollow or fanservicey. Those girls he preferred to look at them on Danbooru, out of context. Seriously, why would he still be browsing at that age, with his serious lifestyle and sight problems. He’d better find something else to do, like finding a girlfriend or getting better pay…

A message popped up on his Discord.

“Hi” “Hey”

“Whats up” “Still going on Danbooru”

“Getting any girl you like” “Not much, just finding and looking at my own waifus” Yeah, like any “weeb” or anime-watching folk, he’d gotten a few of the girls he liked so much, that he’d claim as his own. Not yet…

“Not just waifus but also random girls” “I’m looking at one right now she’s from a harem anime? She’s called… Irina Shidou?” Looking at that girl again, he was a bit impressed by the decent looks of hers: those waving, elongated twintails, matched with some flushing bangs and a pair of wine-red, watery eyes. She has the kind of slender yet ample figure he preferred.

“What make a waifu a waifu or a girl your favorite girl is just a small endearing trait” “So… yeah?” He was probably right: he might or might not have a big bunch of waifus, like those harem male protags, but at least, if you love a girl, you must find something in her that’d catch your heart. Looking at her again, something in her clicked with him, but only very mildly. He could have a lot more from all the waifus he already had, not to mention a girl from a harem anime whom he’d barely known!

“About your waifus…”

Tim never talked about him browsing Danbooru openly, even though that was no different from many people’s porn nights, or indeed if you can always use Safebooru for an almost family-friendly experience. But he’d open up to a few of his fellow co-workers who knew his anime binges, and chat about animes past and current. Like, their plots, their favorite moments, their weaknesses, their characters, and of course their waifus? But that was only sporadically, when they had no one to tend to, and often disturbed by sudden assignments.

He saw a new pull on Derek’s Azur Lane account: he’d gotten the wildly popular bikini Zara who he’d seen on Danbooru a lot. She looked like the kind of girl popular artists would plunge in and draw safe and lewd arts of her, with the vaguely gyaru looks, hot chili-colored hair and bikini on a succulent body. “Derek, you’ve got a nice girl!” “Nice enough for rushing yourself, maybe not enough for forming a decent fleet…” Derek thought about setting up the fleet before how he felt about her body. “But that’s not bad, considering her looks.” Anthropomorphic warships are still warships, apparently.

Tim was reminded of his time as an Admiral, but at that time, cute girls came a big second for him. He’d seen a lot of fleet girls he personally liked, but barely used in real gameplay, and he simply went on Danbooru for seeing them more often. “I was an Admiral too, once, and I’d looked for their art on Danbooru, like Kashima back then. She was big because she’d the looks, like this Zara. She’s no waifu though, just looking…” Tim told Derek about his past, and Derek somewhat knew what Tim was up to: thinking about girls you’d just see or seldom see and suddenly remembered. “This Zara, that Kashima, any girl you come across, if you like them, claim them as your own! Even though you know next to nothing about them. Know them and then you’ll appreciate them, and becoming like them! That’s how I treat my new waifus.”

Becoming like them, what did he mean? Tim guessed he’d better to think about that girl again and see if she could be an out-of-context waifu, like everyone does with a new popular character. Irina… She had no big breasts like Zara, and her hair color was rather natural (but out of place for real Asians) compared to the unnaturally red Zara. She was in a few titillating outfits, on a level with Zara’s bikini. She wasn’t even that eye-catching after the first glance!

But becoming like them?

He still had no idea of “becoming like” a girl other than making her a waifu, or indeed thinking about a girl. A girl is a girl, on her own, and Tim was Tim, that 27-year old brown-haired weeb who’d have problem seeing things without that pair of thick glasses.

The vision’s a bit blurry – did he forgot the pair of glasses? No, he could clearly see the black glass frames constraining the field of vision. The sight became foggier slowly as he tried to wipe the lens, to no effect. Until he realized the blur was spread all over the lens, and the little bit of sight outside the frame was going the other way, sharpening and regaining the focus! He removed the pair of spectacles, and surely, everything was more firmly real than whenever he had removed them before. His sight was healing miraculously.

His ears and nose felt lighter without the pair of glasses weighing on them after such a long time of wearing them. But no, even though the glasses were quite heavy, they felt too light as if they were taken away bit by bit, losing their own size then weight. Were they shrinking? Yeah and nope, as he touched his nose. He felt like it was his whole skull, not just those features on his face, was being pulled from within, so that even though everything on his face were kept more or less at a similar and human proportion while shrinking on the whole. Tim couldn’t think of what was really happening on his body, let alone really reacting to them. He could only wait until things became stable or normal again.

Almost without him noticing, the roof seemed more distant every second. Everything in the room grew, millimeter by millimeter, like the mushroom power-up reverting itself, or a previously normal-heighted human into a dwarf. The bag that was his skin squeezed his weak energy out, leaving something even weaker, but more fitting of the size his body was taking on. The T-shirt he was on, slightly loose when he put it open, was now oversized, so much that it was hanging on his emaciated frame. Or was it?

Feeling all the sweat and heat over his belly, he pulled the T-shirt on his torso, flapping it to fan some air inside. The hairs on his arm, once stood by the bit of static electricity, were quickly retreating inside the follicles. At once he pulled up the T-shirt, and it flew away like sliding away on a pole. Tim finally saw some more concrete changes on him: the once slightly muscular portion around his navel were completely skinny by then, like all the muscles under it weakening and dissolving. Instead of the width he should had of his abdomen, the torso was quickly angling towards his crotch, and the waist where his legs joined were now a new pair of bulk, more impressive than it would be for a complete male. He’d seen enough good fanart anatomy to know things were turning feminine for him – her? She had to be sure if she’d turn out to be a real chick or transgender, so ripping off the pair of boxers (figuratively), she found her old manhood retreating inside her crotch, like a turtle hiding inside its shell, waiting for a new organ and its gap to be in place. Meanwhile, on the chest, the nipples swelled from the originally broad ribs, going from paper-thin to cardboard-sized, to the size of tennis balls and now the oranges. Who would know how big they would be when they were fully grown? But she’d be another girl to be sexualized at the very least and being a slut at the very worst.

Becoming like a girl, indeed! Becoming like a girl? Who on earth would suddenly want to have their gender flipped other than a transgender! They need to learn all the troubles of their new sex and gender identities without growing up or experiencing them to some level of familiarity! Tim couldn’t start to imagine her facing the cycle or getting even a decently workable sense of fashion, not that she hadn’t seen them in others, but facing them herself was another matter. But first off, what was her face becoming? Going inside the bathroom, she found herself altogether quite young-looking for a woman her age, with much more child-like fat around her, closer to a teen. The chin was sharp, but the face had barely anything angular around it, without much of a nose, and sharp, round-eyed. The last bit of leafy green was drained away, leaving a bloodied iris. Behind her, new streaks of blonde appeared and mixed with the existing brown hair, reaching down almost to the floor. And the flushing bangs…

Not just any girl, but someone looking like that Irina, whether she liked her or not.

“Tim” was gone, and in his place Irina. At first, she thought all that mattered was adjusting to a new gendered lifestyle, which could had been quick and simple if she could find some accepting pals. But no, instead, someone with a cool and short blue hair found her, apparently knowing her for so long a time. The “memories” from this body said “Xenovia”. Bad time for someone trapped in a world she’d never known!

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