After admiring the spells I had learned, I couldn't wait to try using magic. The first spell I decided to try was projection.
Projection is a type of magic that allows you to create something from your mind in the real world. The more detailed the projection, the longer it can stay. Project projections usually fade due to the lack of an internal structure or other detailed elements.
For example, if someone tries to project a car without knowing its internal workings, it will look like a car on the outside but lack an engine or other essential parts. However, if a mechanic projects a vehicle, it would work like a real car and last longer due to the detailed knowledge of its internal structure.
That's why Shirou's projections usually stay indefinitely until broken—he projects not only the shape but also the internal structure and history of the object, enabling him to project noble phantasms. The more history an object has, the higher its rank.
Understanding this, I knew that if I understood an object's creation, materials, and craftsmanship, I could make a perfect replica. The first thing I decided to project was my hairbrush—a brown brush with one side having hard bristles and the other side soft, with a small white paint mark at the end.
I activated my magic circuits, feeling the warmth of mana flowing through me. I gathered my energy and focused on the clear image of the hairbrush in my mind. I could see every detail—the texture of the wood, the arrangement of the bristles, the tiny flecks of paint that had worn off over time. I held this image firmly in my thoughts and willed it into existence.
Slowly, a faint shimmer appeared in the air before me. It solidified, taking on the familiar shape and texture of my hairbrush. When it was complete, I reached out and grasped it. It felt real. The weight was right, the bristles were just as I remembered, and even the faint smell of wood and paint was there.
For a Black guy, a good hairbrush means a lot, and I didn't think they'd make this type of brush here for another decade or so. I was happy I could use projection for something so personal.
For a brief moment, I felt a pang of sadness, wishing I was somewhere else, but quickly masked it with a neutral expression. I couldn't stay here forever; I had to find a job in this town to support myself.
After preparing to leave, I went to the front desk to check out, struggling with my inability to read or speak Japanese. The receptionist looked at me curiously, and I tried to communicate using basic phrases and gestures. It was a frustrating process, but eventually, I managed to settle my bill and leave the hotel.
Once that was sorted, I walked around the city to see it for the first time since my arrival, which had been focused on finding a place to stay. The streets were bustling with people, a mix of modern buildings and traditional Japanese architecture lining the sidewalks. Small shops and cafes were nestled between tall office buildings, their signs vibrant and inviting. The air was filled with the sounds of chatter, the hum of traffic, and the occasional call of a street vendor.
To my amazement and horror, the recent fire had nearly killed over five hundred residents and burned down 134 buildings. Ashes were everywhere, and the whole place looked like the saddest place in the world. Seeing the devastation firsthand was much more impactful than watching it on a screen.
The charred remains of buildings stood as grim reminders of the disaster. Burnt-out cars lined the streets, their frames twisted and blackened. People moved through the ruins, some picking through the debris for anything salvageable, others simply standing and staring at the destruction. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of burnt wood and melted metal.
After wandering for about three hours, I found some guys trying to rebuild what was burned during the fire. They were working hard, hauling debris away and starting to erect new structures where old ones had stood. The air was filled with the sounds of hammers, saws, and the shouted instructions of workers.
I approached a man who seemed to be the manager. He was a middle-aged guy with a weathered face and a stern expression. His clothes were stained with sweat and dirt, and he wore a hard hat that had seen better days.
"Excuse me," I said, trying to catch his attention. "Do you need any help?"
He turned to me, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to understand my words. His English was broken, but we managed to communicate. He explained that many people couldn't work on repairs due to injuries or concern for their families. I asked if I could get a job, and he agreed, as they needed help with the physical labor.
Starting tomorrow, I have a temporary job. This would not only provide me with money but also allow me to practice reinforcement magic to carry heavier things as I got better with it. With some extra time before my job started, I searched for a place to obtain a visa, necessary for permanent residency until I could get citizenship in Japan. This would take about five years and meet some other requirements.
The visa office was located in a large, imposing building near the city center. It took about two hours to navigate the bureaucratic process, filling out forms and speaking with officials who, thankfully, spoke some English. By the end of it, I had a clearer understanding of what I needed to do to stay in Japan long-term.
After spending two hours on that, I decided to stroll around the city. Eventually, I encountered a girl my age with brown hair reaching her shoulders. She wore a school uniform and had a bright, friendly smile. She waved at me, and I waved back. It seemed rare to see a Black guy in Japan, and her curiosity was apparent.
"Hello!" she called out in accented English. "Welcome to Japan!"
"Thank you," I replied, smiling. "It's nice to meet you."
After that brief encounter, I returned to my hotel room to practice the new magic I had learned. I started my circuits and projected objects until I was exhausted and out of mana. With an enhanced body and a large amount of magic circuits, it took five hours of constant projection before I finally went to sleep.
Four weeks later...
I woke up feeling refreshed and ready for my first day of work. It turned out to be grueling. They worked me hard once they discovered my strength, making me carry three bags of cement at once. This continued for five hours with short breaks. Despite not knowing much about construction, I did a lot of carrying work, which became my routine for four weeks.
Each day, I woke up, ate something, and headed to the construction site. The site was a chaotic but organized mess, with materials and tools scattered around as workers moved with purpose. The smell of sawdust and fresh concrete filled the air, mingling with the sweat of hard labor.
After working for five hours, my boss taught me Japanese, as it would be easier to communicate in one language. In the afternoons, I explored the unburned parts of the city, and at noon, I practiced different types of magic: projection on Mondays, alteration on Tuesdays, reinforcement on Wednesdays, memory manipulation on Thursdays, and Gandr shots on Fridays. Saturdays and Sundays were for rest and additional reinforcement practice.
After a month, I finally had enough money to buy an abandoned two-story house from a guy who owned it. The building was in good condition despite being cheap due to rumors of it being haunted by the ghost of a CEO who committed suicide there. If it turned out to be true, I would deal with the ghost.
The building was located on a quiet street, surrounded by a few other abandoned structures. It had a slightly eerie feel, with ivy creeping up its walls and windows covered in dust. Inside, it was surprisingly clean, with spacious rooms and sturdy floors.
After moving in, I decorated the place with new chairs, tables, a color television, and a 1990s computer. It was nothing like my modern laptop, but it was sufficient. It turned out that I lived near the curious girl who waved at me a month ago.
The girl approached me and introduced herself as Fujimura Taiga. She wore casual clothes, her school uniform replaced by a comfortable sweater and jeans. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and friendliness.
"You're the new neighbor," she said with a bright smile. "My name is Fujimura Taiga. I live three houses away from here. You know you're the second person to buy a house in this place this month alone."
"Is that so?" I replied, intrigued. "Who might the other new residents be?"
"That would be the Emiyas who live around the corner," she said, pointing in the direction of their house.
"I see. It's nice to hear that many people live around here and this place is well-liked," I said, feeling a sense of community forming.
After talking for a while, she finally left to go home, and I entered my presumably haunted house. The interior was cozy and welcoming despite the rumors. I had set up a small living area with a couch and coffee table, a dining area with a sturdy wooden table and chairs, and a bedroom with a comfortable bed and wardrobe.
Realizing that Fujimura Taiga would be a future English teacher and guardian of Shirou Emiya, I sighed, knowing I had quite the pickle to deal with. Exhausted from work and moving in, I decided to deal with it tomorrow. For now, I just wanted to rest and enjoy my new home.
