Chapter Text
“ID, please,” Karasu said mockingly, smirking down at Charles from his six-foot-plus vantage point.
“For God’s sake, Karasu, don’t start playing the ‘rules’ card now! You literally smuggled booze into the school!”
“It’s sake! My parents imported it from home for my eighteenth birthday. I can’t let the honor of this drink be tainted by giving it to a child.”
“You just served Loki!”
“Seventeen, eighteen... same difference. You’re fifteen.”
“You jerk, I helped you sneak that bottle into the building!”
“Shut it and drink your soda,” Karasu said, handing him a plastic cup filled with Coca-Cola.
Charles snatched the cup, taking a loud, aggressive gulp just because he was thirsty.
“He actually drank it!” Karasu burst out laughing, along with Shidou and Loki.
Charles scowled even deeper, clenching his teeth as his ears began to burn with embarrassment.
“So, ‘your country,’ huh...?” Charles recalled Karasu’s words from a moment ago—how he mentioned Japan all the time, to the point where even Shidou and Rin, who were also Japanese, made fun of him for it. “Laugh all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that your country’s football sucks,” Charles spat out as a shield, aiming for where it would hurt most. He didn’t actually have anything against Japan, but he’d say anything just to see Karasu get pressed.
“Facts, not opinions,” Loki teased, throwing an arm around Karasu’s shoulders from behind.
Shidou let out a loud guffaw, and Karasu stopped laughing. He froze for a few seconds, cup halfway to his mouth. “Japanese football is the best in Asia! We always qualify for the World Cup!”
“‘We always qualify for the World Cup,’” Charles mimicked in a high-pitched voice, making a puppet gesture with his hand. “How many trophies do you have? Oh, right... zero.”
“He killed you!” Shidou kept laughing.
Before Karasu could respond, Charles did a quick search on his phone.
“Ah, look at that... the legal drinking age in your precious country is twenty.” Charles smiled maliciously. “You’ve already stained the honor of that sake, you criminal.”
“I’m still closer than you are. You’re a baby, Charles. Your voice hasn’t even fully dropped yet,” Karasu fired back. Charles noticed he was already starting to slur his words, and he hadn’t even finished his first cup. What a lightweight.
“True, Charles. I’d say you look thirteen at most,” Loki added, taking another sip from his cup. Traitor!
“I hate you guys.” Charles stood up, kicked the artificial turf, and stormed out of their hiding spot behind the bleachers. He was the one who had shown them this place! He hated being the youngest of the group. Mentally, he was miles ahead of them!
He walked aimlessly through the streets near the school as the sky turned a deeper shade of amber. He couldn't stop staring at the ground, hands balled into fists. When would the day come when his friends stopped looking down on him? Sometimes it felt like they were some kind of babysitters, even when they were the ones being irresponsible.
In the middle of an avenue, he realized his throat was parched—the result of not drinking a single drop of liquid in two hours. He decided to duck into the first place that sold drinks.
He ended up at a Starbucks, ordering a Frappuccino that was way too sweet for his liking, which only soured his mood further. Deep down, he knew it tasted the same as always; he just hated everything right now.
He ignored the messages from Loki, Karasu, and Shidou lighting up his screen: “Is the tantrum over yet?”, “Bring more Coke when you come back,” “The baby escaped the nursery.”
Charles swiped his finger across the screen so hard he almost dug his nail into the glass. Why did they even want to be his friends if they just saw him as a kid?
He knew it was mostly Karasu’s fault. Shidou couldn't care less what Charles did, and Loki just went along with anything to stay out of trouble. Yet, Karasu was always the one trying to put the brakes on him. Was this his way of thanking him for being his first friend?
Charles let out a growl. He was seriously considering only hanging out with people in his own grade. But no, he wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction.
What if he just invited some of his actually cool friends to try that stupid sake? It wouldn't be a problem; he was pretty popular. He could even bring a bottle to Hugo’s party next week. Hugo wouldn't care.
He opened Google, trying to find a place in Paris that would sell sake to minors out of pure spite, but just as he was about to type, his previous search popped up: “Legal drinking age in Japan.”
At that moment, an Instagram notification appeared. @notkarasu sent you a post.
Charles rolled his eyes and opened the message. It was a post announcing Japan’s guaranteed qualification for the World Cup.
Karasu
Charles gave a sly smile. A devilish idea crossed his mind.
“Sorry, Shidou. Sorry, Rin. But you guys are collateral damage,” he muttered to himself.
Karasu
Charles laughed and started downloading a bunch of images of the Japanese national team. He began writing total nonsense—he didn’t even think they were bad, so he made the video as satirical as possible. No one could take this seriously.
After two hours, his masterpiece of hate was ready. He posted it on his main TikTok account, the one where he usually posted clips of his friends and him being idiots.
He decided to go global. He wrote it in English. The whole world had to see it. Video Title: "Why Japanese Football is for NPCs"
He hit Post.
Charles took a sip of his Frappuccino, satisfied. He smirked and sent the video link to Karasu, tagging him in the group chat he shared with the others.
Within seconds, he received a barrage of messages from Shidou and Loki, jokingly asking how much free time he had. Charles just sent them a screenshot of the video’s likes; it seemed it was going viral fast.
Karasu finished the last of his sake and tossed the disposable cup aside as his phone vibrated.
“I think Charles actually got mad this time,” Karasu said, unlocking his phone. Maybe he’d crossed the line a bit, but he felt bad giving alcohol to a kid three years younger than him, friend or not. After all, Charles was basically his little brother.
“You did go overboard. Asking for his ID out of nowhere after he helped you sneak the stuff in,” Shidou laughed, taking his last sip. “The shrimp will get over it.”
Karasu nodded distractedly. He opened WhatsApp and raised an eyebrow at the link Charles had sent to the group titled “The Frenchies and Rin.”
Why was he tagged in this? he wondered.
“He probably ran into his other friends, that’s why he’s not back. I’m sure the tantrum’s over by now.” Loki rolled his eyes.
“Guys, what is this?” Karasu asked, confused. He shifted positions, sitting so his two friends could see the screen.
It was a TikTok slideshow. Six slides in total. The first one read: “My doctoral thesis on why they’ll never win the World Cup.” The caption: “A brief analysis of why Karasu cries at night 🇯🇵⚽️🤡.”
There was a small subtitle at the bottom: “Made this in 5 mins while drinking a frappé, don’t cry (this analysis is based on the vibe of the two Google images I saw).”
Shidou’s mouth dropped as he clutched his chest in mock offense.
“He really got that pressed,” Karasu said, laughing.
The post was pure humor. It was obvious Charles wasn’t being serious for a second.
The second slide showed Captain Tsubasa compared to a clip from a national team friendly, covered in emojis and a caption: “They created this anime because it’s who they want to be but can’t.” A tiny bit of extra text read: “I’m dying to watch this but I don't watch stuff that isn't for geeks, is it any good? lmk.”
“He’s scared he’ll watch it and become an otaku. Poor thing,” Shidou said.
The third slide was just a skeleton sitting in a chair: “POV: You’re the rival goalkeeper waiting for the Japanese striker to actually SHOOT instead of passing it for the 10th time.”
“He’s spitting facts,” Loki said.
The fourth slide was a blurry image of an Excel spreadsheet. Charles had captioned it: “Japan’s offensive strategy leaked. Too much order, no sauce. Where’s the flavor? 🧂”
“Why did he leak my dad’s work?”
Loki and Shidou doubled over, clutching their stomachs.
“Charles woke up and chose violence,” Loki said. He pulled out his phone to check the comments; a few people had already seen it and everyone was losing it.
Karasu swiped to the penultimate slide.
“Who’s that handsome guy?!” Shidou fell backward onto the grass.
“Your best photo yet,” Loki choked out.
It was a picture of a crow with tears edited onto it by Charles. The text: “Exclusive footage of my ‘Japanese’ friend (born in Paris) watching this TikTok.”
Karasu almost dropped his phone laughing. “That little brat.”
When he calmed down, he commented: “You owe me a Coke as compensation for violating my image rights. If you don’t give it to me, I’m suing for using compromising photos without permission.”
By the time he swiped to the last slide, Loki and Shidou weren't even paying attention anymore; they were cackling like hyenas.
The final image was just a black background with the French flag and a baguette emoji at the bottom, versus the Japanese flag with a sushi emoji. The text declared: “This is why France is superior.”
Karasu just smiled and shook his head. He went to Instagram, took a selfie with Shidou and Loki laughing in the background, and sent it to Charles
Charles read the message and figured that was enough. After all, Spring Break started that day.
Karasu
Charles sent a thumbs-up and stepped out of Starbucks. The sky was a beautiful amber, which symbolized that autumn was getting closer. He never imagined that video would go viral, or what would happen three days later.
@Ikki_Niko_Official: It is truly unfortunate to see how someone with internet access chooses to ignore centuries of tactical evolution due to mere cultural prejudice.
Point 1: You claim the formation is ‘rigid,’ but ignore that the Japanese defensive structure (the 4-4-2 low block) has statistically shown an 85% efficiency in ball recovery against European teams in the last decade. (Source: FIFA Archives 2022).
Point 2: You attribute the lack of goals to ‘anime,’ which is an absurd ad hominem fallacy. The issue lies in the lack of ego in the forward line, a structural problem already being addressed by the Japan Football Union project led by the visionary Jinpachi Ego—something you clearly know nothing about.
Point 3: Your analysis lacks logical foundations and relies on football stereotypes. It is exactly what a novice outsider would think of a high-level national team. Next time, I recommend researching your sources instead of mindlessly repeating social media tropes about a country that is a candidate to become the new football powerhouse of the 21st century. Soon, Japan will have the best striker in the world, and that will be the day envious people like you swallow your words.