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I hear the footsteps of Satoru Gojo coming from roughly two hundred meters away. I don’t like how excited he sounds. He’s been too invested in the World Cup this year, something about “the Norwegian Viking”. I’ve never been the biggest fan of sports, but I’ve ultimately heard very little about it from Ino. He lost interest when the Japanese team was knocked out, so I have no idea what Satoru is on about.
“Nanamin~” I heard him yell out for me.
I feel my soul leave my body and be forcefully shoved back in there.
“What do you want-“ I spotted a bag in his hands, multiple bags. “Why in the hell do you have so many bags.”
“You said you’re Danish…”
“What does my heritage have to deal with the fact you have an ungodly amount of bags in your possession?”
“You know what Denmark and Norway have in common?”
And suddenly I want to run, I don’t like this idea anymore.
“Humor me…” I sigh out.
“They’re Vikings!”
Oh god.
“Satoru, no. I’m not getting in a Viking costume. It’s thirty-one degrees outside!!”
He steps closer, smiling like the devil himself.
“No, stop that.” I feel tempted to hit him on the head and make a run for it.
“I’ll give you time off.”
I raise my eyebrows slightly, enticing offer if he could uphold that.
“We both know you can’t guarantee that.” I slightly frown, the sad reality of being a sorcerer.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Will it shut you up?”
“Yes.”
I sigh, if he’s this invested, and unfortunately persistent.
“Give me twenty thousand yen, it’s the price of my pride for a few hours.”
He hands me thirty thousand.
“Alright, fine. Give me the bags.”
I look inside, it looks like he thrifted these parts. Different store tags, and I recognize one of them as a store Ino likes going to. Alright, time to swallow the little bit of pride I have left. I put on layers of leather and I’m already starting to sweat, not to mention some of this is a bit tight around me. He shopped for his build and size, not mine. I had to remove a few layers so that I wouldn’t choke to death, plus less layers means less odds of heat stroke. I’d like not to die, that is definitely preferred.
“Nanamin, it's been three minutes, I wanna see.”
“Hold on, some of this stuff is made for your thinner build in mind. I’m trying not to suffocate myself or rip anything in half.”
I can hear the audible Satoru Pout™, but putting some of this on actually doesn’t make me feel awful. I hate to admit it, but it feels good on me. Damn it, I think this is falling straight into Satoru’s game. Who do I let win, that man or my own self confidence? On one hand, Satoru is insufferable if he gets the chance, and this is definitely a chance for him to inflate his ego like a balloon on a theoretical gas steroid. On the other hand, I have never felt more proud of my body.
It’s loose covering, yet my muscles don’t feel like they’re demanding attention. The wrist “armor”, which I can tell is from a Halloween costume, fits right with my forearms. I honestly don’t hate it, I can’t help but look in the mirror and smile a little. It’s stupid that I’m, being somewhat forced to, dress up in a culture I’ve never really seen as my own. I was born and raised Japanese, with the fact I was Danish as a fore thought. Maybe I’ll save up enough money to take a trip to Denmark now, see the customs I could have had.
“Nana-“
“Yeah, yeah, quiet out there.” I hide the little bit of pride I have in this outfit and walk out.
“Oh. My. God.”
His eyes widen like saucers before bursting into hysteric laughter.
“It’s not that funny, Satoru.”
“Oh it definitely is!”
“It’s just me in a-“
“In a Viking outfit! You’re a Viking! Row for me!”
“What?”
“Row!”
“You repeating the word at my face isn’t going to make me understand.”
“Row!”
“Are you just going to say that and expect me to echo it back to you? Satoru, you’re more brain damaged than you usually are.”
“Rude.”
“How late have you been staying up, you only act like this if you’re sleep deprived.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Viking boy?”
“Yes, I would like to know, that’s why I asked.”
“It’s not my fault North America is thirteen to sixteen hours behind us!”
“What in the-“ It finally clicked, Ino also stayed up late watching, “The World Cup?” I ask, implying I likely know the answer.
“Yeah…”
“Why, Japan is already out. We got out to…”
“Brazil.”
“Brazil, right. Your home country isn’t even included anymore.”
Satoru’s eyes shift away.
“Satoru, why are you still watching?”
He looks something up on his phone and shoves it to my chest. I see a man in a Norwegian jersey, number nine. Long blonde hair tied into a little man bun.
“Alright, who’s this?”
“You can read, Nanami…”
I look under the photo, Håland?
“Who’s Håland? More importantly, why is he your defense for me being in this outfit?”
“He’s like one of the best strikers in football right now! Tied for the golden boot with Messi and Mbappé!”
My eyebrows raise, I know a little about Messi. This man Satoru is showing me is tied with Messi?
“Alright.” I don’t try to hide my intrigue.
“He’s been allowing Norway to go as far as they have!”
“And they’re…?”
“At the Quarterfinals.”
“And is that good or average for them?”
“First time in their history!”
“Good for them, I suppose. Is this supposed to be your way of celebrating their accomplishment?"
“Sure, we’ll say that.”
“What do you mean-”
“Yeah, fine, yes I’m excited for them! I’ve been rooting for the downfall of Brazil because they took Miku away from us and knocked us out.”
“Miku? Like the artist? How did they take a hologram away from us?”
“You know Miku?!”
“Ino knows Miku.”
“They took Miku.”
“They physically can’t take Miku, she’s a hologram.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
“And beating us in the World Cup means they spiritually took Miku?”
“Yeah,” Satoru frowns a little.
“Well, is your enjoyment of me in this costume enough to overshadow the theoretical theft of Miku?”
“Yeah, I want a photo.”
“Absolutly not, you’re going to show everyone that.”
“Yeah, which is why I want a photo.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I thought the Viking costume was supposed to shut you up?”
“I lied.”
“Of course you did.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He takes a photo anyways and I don’t object, not like I can physically stop him. I can always write it off as he paid me to do it, which is the truth.
“Oh my god, you’re gonna fit right in!”
“Fit in with what?”
He shows a photo of, I’m assuming to be, the Norwegian football team in viking outfits, with a spot open for a theoretical person to be.
“Satoru?”
“No, it's not A.I. generated.”
“Thanks for that, but it wasn't what I was concerned about.”
“I had this idea since I’ve figured out you’re Danish.”
“This has been a plan for three years?”
“Not officially.”
“I’m changing out of this.”
“I have a Viking and you’re thirty thousand yen richer.”
“And my pride has been damaged.”
I actually don’t mind this now, damn you Satoru, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve put on in my adult lifespan. I really wanted it to be, but I think I like the empowering feeling it gives me.
“Ten thousand more if you hold this axe I found.”
I look to see Satoru holding a plastic Halloween axe.
“Fine.” I take the axe, its plastic, it feels weird.
Satoru giggles, pulling out his phone. “Now run at me.”
“You want me to chase you down?” I smile, I like that idea.
He gulps as he realizes my excitement, but it's too late for him. I position the axe in my hands and run after him. Satoru ended up filming a minute and thirteen second long video of me chasing him down with a halfway decent Viking costume and a plastic Halloween axe. I eventually got changed out of the costume and back into my suit.
“You want the Viking stuff back?”
“Nah, it’s yours now if you’d like.”
“I think I can recommission some of this stuff,” I say, hiding my joy of being able to wear this on my own terms.
“Oh, here’s the other ten.”
He casually places ten thousand yen in my hand and I smile.
“This isn’t the worst idea you’ve had while sleep deprived.”
“You think so.”
“I know so.”
“My ideas aren’t that bad.”
“Yes they are, now get some sleep. For anyone’s sake.”
“Fine, if I sleep through the next game though, I’m purpling your apartment.”
“With or without me in it?”
Satoru falls asleep before he can answer that, and dreams that the Håland event comes back in Clash of Clans.