"I wonder if this is on right now," Ritsuka murmurs — nothing could be seen so far but a blurry visage on the screen. "Oh, looks like it is! They definitely didn't hold back with the stuff here. Half the time I'm afraid I'll break something expensive."
He pulls his hands away from the camera lens, and his profile finally comes into focus.
"It was all so sudden, but I can't believe I'm here now." Ritsuka rubs the back of his head; his eyes surveying the room around him. "All I did was apply to a flier, and now I'm transferred all the way to Antarctica.
Ritsuka folded his hands, fiddling with his thumbs. "Thought I'd keep a diary since I'm not sure when I'll be able to contact you — Ai — again. Not sure if you'll ever get to see any of this, but it's the best I can do."
He bows his head. "But I really am the worst, leaving at such a time. Both of us know what it's like to not have parents around, and I thought I'd be better than that. I hope you're doing alright — that you and our child will be fine."
"Well, I can't keep worrying about it," Ritsuka concedes, raising his head. "I'm not quite sure what I'll be doing here really. They said I was the 48th candidate to be a Master, but I can't say I know what that means."
He laughs sheepishly, "I kinda did fall asleep when the Director was debriefing us. Didn't realize how bad my jet lag was, but then again, you'd know how much I doze off in classes. I'll have to apologize to the Director — she threw me out of the room —- but I do hope we can get along in the future. Speaking of which…"
Ritsuka glances at his watch. "It's about time for another meeting, I should really go now. Would hate to come all this way and have nothing to show for it. Especially when I need to support our family now. Not sure about when I'll get paid, but I'll get that sorted out soon. See you later."
The screen turns on — Ritsuka sits there, eyes not meeting the camera — the silence continues for a while before he pounds his fist on the desk. His fist unmoving until slowly, his fingers fan out over the surface.
"I'm sorry, Ai," Ritsuka whispers; his voice unable to muster much strength. "So much has happened that I'm still trying to sort it out myself. Trying to figure out if there is something else I could've done."
He hugs his knees towards himself, tucking them under his chin. "The entire world is incinerated — only Chaldea is left. We're the only ones that are left."
"All the other Master Candidates were left incapacitated by Lev Lainur's sabotage. Director Olga Marie is dead, and I'm the only Master left," Ritsuka chuckles, almost hysterically, but his hollow laughter unable to erase the somber mood.
"Me, someone who hasn't really finished high school yet. I can barely cast any spells, much less know how to fight. I can barely support Mashu at all."
"Me," he repeats as if the word disgusts him, "A complete nobody, trying to save the world? I'm no one special…all I just wanted to…"
Ritsuka stares at his hand, as it rises, slowly forming a circle with his fingers. "All I just wanted to be with you…and now you're gone…they're gone…"
"My favorite star…" Ritsuka chokes back a sob, rubbing his eyes. "I can still remember how dazzling you had shined on the stage. You've always pushed forward with your goals — how could I not help but chase you no matter where you went. That's right…no matter how hard it was for you, you still kept on going."
He leaps out of his chair, pacing about the room faster and faster, his stride gaining momentum with his revelation. "Yes…this can't be it. I won't let it be the end. I will see you again and our child. The Grand Order must be completed. The future must be saved."
New resolve flows back into his eyes — the strength of it illuminates the gloominess away — as if stars shine through them.
"If Ritsuka Fujimaru cannot do it now, then he will have to become the one who can."
"Hey there Ai." Ritsuka settles down into his chair, setting down his backpack on the desk. "We just managed to complete the third singularity. I think I'm getting a hang on what it means to be a Magus…and to be a Master."
"Still, there's a lot more I can improve upon. But I've always been more of a practical learner than hitting the books. Which reminds me…" Ritsuka rummages through his backpack and pulls out several seashells.
"Since we went around a lot of islands in this singularity, these caught my eye." He flips one over, displaying the iridescent sheen inside.
"Remember that one day, when we had that small date on the beach? These look similar to ones we found." He rests his forehead on his palm, twiddling with the seashells.
"Truth be told, it took me days before I worked myself up the courage to even ask you out," Ritsuka admits — eyes quite unable to meet the camera. "Though imagine my surprise when you mentioned you couldn't swim. I felt bad teasing you, but it was a nice reminder that you were still just a person."
"All those times we talked together, you shared your hopes and wishes with me. How could I not want your dream to come true? But at the same time, I felt that it was a lonely path. Even if you love your fans — even if your fans love you — will they be able to love not just the idol Ai but the Ai underneath? Was that a love you could accept?"
Ritsuka laughs, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't alone, even if you didn't return my feelings. That even if people didn't understand you, that there was someone who did."
"Hey again Ai. Has been a while since I updated," Ritsuka suppresses a yawn. "Even after four singularities completed, I guess I'm still not used to how things can suddenly spiral out of control."
A solemn hand grasps his other, but it's unable to hold back the trembles that run down it.
"We finally meet the one responsible for the Incineration of Human History — King Solomon. Or so he claims. A Grand Caster."
Ritsuka snorts, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter who or what he is, the power he had was far beyond anything I've seen before. He doesn't even see us as a threat — why would he when he took down all of us without even sweating? I don't think we have a winning chance right now. We have no way to deal with him right now."
Ritsuka rubs his chin, contemplating. "Even so, what he had said — that human life holds no meaning — I couldn't help but disagree with that."
Ritsuka shakes his head as if that would deny the words he had heard.
"No, what he said can never be right. My time in Chaldea could not have been meaningless. My life before Chaldea — my time with you — is not meaningless — it can never be that. Just because you are gone doesn't mean you aren't still precious to me."
"Without those experiences, then there could be no Ritsuka Fujimaru."
"Mashu is going to die, and I cannot do anything about it," Ritsuka snarls — anger flushes his face red until it fades away with simmering acceptance.
"Once again, someone close to me is about to die, and I can't do anything." He punches his fist into his palm.
"Did you know, Ai?" Ritsuka asks, "that Mashu has never seen the world outside of Chaldea? She didn't even know what the sky looked because all she saw was snow. She still has much she hasn't seen — much she hasn't experienced yet. Just like me. Just like you. Just like our child."
"Damn it, Solomon!" Ritsuka curses, "Did you think that humanity has no worth because we will eventually die? So what if it can be short? So what if it can be fragile? If the worth of humanity is based on how they die, then that is disregarding whatever they had accomplished when they're living!"
"Olga's life was not meaningless! Ai's life was not meaningless! Mashu's life is not meaningless! The fact that life is fleeting only means that every moment they have is precious. Their efforts were not wasted! The future walks forward with the path laid down by those who came before us!"
"Just one more singularity, and we'll reclaim our future back. Even if some of us may not see it."
"Hello Ai." Ritsuka drums his fingers on his legs, unable to keep still. "It's finally time — we collected all seven Holy Grails and resolved all the singularities. In a few days, we'll rayshift to Solomon and prevent the incineration of Humanity."
"I don't want to sound like I'm setting up death flags, but," Ritsuka trails off with a hesitant laugh. "I'm not that naive. I only managed through the singularities with a lot of luck and help from everyone. Any other Master would've probably done a better job than me."
"Still, after confronting Tiamat, it made me realize — that even if we aren't certain of our future — we still have to endure and move on. That is how we show our growth as human beings. And so, to deny my own efforts is to deny that I have grown at all."
Ritsuka stands up and bows to the screen.
"I'll see you again in a few days, Ai. That's a promise I still intend to keep. After all, how can I call myself a Chaldean if I can't observe your bright star?"
No more entries recorded by Master Ritsuka Fujimaru after December 2016.