This was a stupid idea.
Here he was, condensing everything about himself into some paragraphs, terms, labels, and one very immature photo of his profile that he only managed to snag because it was school picture day and that was the only time he was ever dressed to the nines. But that photograph would have to do. The young man stared hard at the smiling idiot across the screen. This photograph would have to do. He would have to do.
In Ritsuka's defense, senior year was coming to an end. He had entrance exams to worry about, and if that didn't work out he was going to have to find a job. One that would preferably pay well until he could eke out an existence that wouldn't shame his parents and little sister. Because hoo boy, he was average. He was the bread of his sandwich. Plain was his body and normalcy was his blood. Unknown to genius, nor known to incompetence. He withstood all-nighters to complete many assignments. Yet these hands will never hold a perfect class rank.
"So, as I pray, let me find a job!"
Click!
The young man sank into his chair as the job-hiring website processed his now-complete resume. Granted, there wasn't much to talk about: his winsome personality, youth, and lack of a criminal record could only do so much against the sea of equally desperate people seeking employment. If Ritsuka was lucky, he might end up somewhere nice. Maybe foreign, that would look good. Like Denny's. Hell yeah, Denny's. He could totally work service at a Denny's. Or maybe they'd let him learn how to cook. Just imagine him making the perfect omurice and making a customer's morning! And getting tips!
Or maybe dying stacking boxes and taking up inventory in some retail shop. If he did manage to get a job, he'd have to squeeze it into his already stacked schedule. Life would become oppressed by the clock! More than it was already! No freedom! But the money. And experience. They call to him like sirens, promising great success for such a long-term investment.
Ritsuka sighed, resting his cheek against his fist as he glanced at his window. The sky is overcast as usual. Another winter day. Graduation would come soon in spring and then what?
No, it wouldn't do to lose hope just when he's started his job-hunting journey. He can do this! Totally!
"We'll get back to you through email or a phone call if we decide to have a follow up with you. See you."
So as it turns out, job-hunting in Shibuya is atrocious. Ritsuka flashed the zombie-like employer a small smile while avoiding eye contact. "Thank you for your time, sir!"
He left the room with that smile plastered on his face until he completely abandoned the electronics store. The pent-up pressure got him to his knees, and he tilted his head down in defeat. Man. The employer's office felt more like an interrogation room than a cozy place to discuss opportunities. And the man's tone definitely did not sound convinced about anything Ritsuka said at all.
He pulled out his phone and leaned against a wall, hoping to find solace in a friend- or four.
Gudao: Got rejected AGAIN.
Gudao: They hit me with that "erm we'll get back to you later"
H1m3k0: bruh
Oruta: damn dude that sucks
ManFriendo: Sheesh Fujimaru, isn't this like the 4th or 5th time?
Kyrie: Aww : (
Kyrie: Hopefully this means the next one will take you in for sure!
H1m3k0: no offense Fujimaru but
H1m3k0: technically we're not even supposed to have jobs
H1m3k0: being a high-school student with extracurriculars is enough lmao
Gudao: Nah
Gudao: We all need a Plan B in this economy, just in case our entrance exams don't cut it.
ManFriendo: True.
H1m3k0: true, but we're full-time students for a reason
H1m3k0: cram school and caffeine will get us thru to uni trust
Oruta: you could always try taking a gap year
Oruta: and live a little in the now
H1m3k0: :0
ManFriendo: Sempai, not everyone is as free-spirited as you. Some of us want that 90% employment rate after university.
Oruta: I'm just saying
The conversation devolved into the benefits of a vocational job versus a more technical occupation with the occasional memetic reaction image or GIF. Ritsuka turned off his phone and walked towards the crosswalk. The light was green, and cars zoomed across the street like colorful blurs. Since no one else showed up to the intersection, he pressed the button and waited.
"One, two, three…"
Like clockwork, the light changed. Ritsuka crossed the street as usual, thankful no truck or crazy taxi wanted to send someone to an isekai today. He passed by the buildings and myriad advertisements as usual. He mostly ignored incoming passersby and weaved through crowds of people as usual. For a tourist, Tokyo must seem like a bustling place where nothing rests, much like other big cities: New York, Paris, and the like. But spend enough time in one spot and the reality is that all those activities are pretty routine, and beyond the usual routes and sights the world is not that interesting. Maybe it's like that for every place, though. What would Ritsuka know, he's been in one city for all his life- and most of it in one prefecture.
Huh. Senioritis must be getting to him if these thoughts are his only friends on the way home.
Whatever. It's really not that big of a deal.
"So, how was school?"
Boring. The usual. Stressful. Entrance exams are in a week, and Ritsuka is Going Through It. In one week, his fate will be sealed. He has no job. He has no rich girl to seduce and elope with. He's not even a rapper or musician who could become a viral hit sensation overnight. In one week, his childhood innocence will be officially, truly, absolutely dead, and he would have nothing to show for his newfound "maturity" that is going to be his adult life.
"It's fine, mom," Ritsuka replies pathetically through another spoonful of delicious curry and rice.
"He's still hung up about becoming a bum," says his little sister Rokka with a smirk.
"No I'm not. Shut up!"
"It's true! You're gonna be a NEET!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yuh-uh!"
"Enough! Both of you!" Mama Fujimaru slammed her hand down as if it were a judge's gavel. "Ritsuka. I know you're worried about your entrance exam scores, but you really need to have faith. When do you get your scores back, anyway? Next week, right?"
He lowered his head. "Yeah."
"We'll cross that bridge about your future when we get there, then."
Next week felt more and more like a guillotine scheduled to fall down on his neck in seven days. Everyone else in class was so smart. And he doesn't know where to go from here. A specialized job? He wasn't interested in anything like that yet.
What to do...
Oh, right. There was that flier about a blood donation being held next week down near Shibuya station.
Six days later, Ritsuka Fujimaru decided to go downtown and donate some blood, if only to feel like a good person, for good karma.
If only to keep the jitters of exam results away.
Not that she cared, but this might be a stupid idea.
Manaka Sajyou, child mage prodigy turned into a 18-year old disgrace, stood in line for a blood donation. Nothing suspicious about that, charitable even, but to anyone in the know they would laugh about how desperate the whole situation was. Word would get out eventually among her Clock Tower peers. Or even worse, her sister. She's playing a dangerous game here, but the stakes are significantly lower than the last time. It's no big deal, really.
Not to her, anyway. No country was going to get blown up again. She promised.
"Kimi-to, issho ga ichiban! Suki yo~"
Manaka wordlessly pulled out her Nohkia Blackberry as soon as she heard the ringtone and immediately canceled the call.
Ping!
Ugh. Persistent. A notification for a message appeared. Manaka's phone was old school, yes, but it did have that texting feature.
Icecolle: don't tell me you're actually considering their offer.
Manaka: And if I am?
Icecolle: You'd be an idiot! Accepting to be the Association's sucker? Ha! You're going into that industry as a temp! There's no taking that stain off of your record.
Icecolle: They know what you are. You'll be starting at the bottom~! A worm~!
Manaka: They won't take our crime off of your record either. And I already told you this before: I'm not joining the Yggdmillennia.
Icecolle: your funeral, backwater bumpkin. Invite me, won't you? I'd like to put you down where you belong.
Manaka: tumut
Icecolle: tumut XOXO
Manaka cracked the tiniest of smiles. Damn that witch. Celenike always knew how to rile her up. To anyone else, Icecolle was a pure sadist. But Manaka knew how to speak her language. What can she say? Great minds torture alike.
The rest of the blood drive was uneventful, as everything in her life was, but at least she was in a good mood.
It was probably because of that good mood that made Manaka unaware of what was going to happen next.
"Lainur? Yes, it's me, Harry. What do you mean which Harry?! You only have one good scout and that's me! Listen, I was wrong about Japan, there's two candidates that have potential out the wazoo! I got the profiles lined up for you."
...
"What? You're not going to bother checking them out and just straight up take them in?! Shotgun hiring is- never mind, you did say that was how you wanted it to go."
...
"Also, you owe me a new car!"
Heyo, author here. Welcome to my love letter to all the things I like. I honestly don't remember how this crackship came to be, I just want more Fate Prototype content in FGO or anything else please Nasu this is a cry for help
Also this is an alternate Manaka Sajyou from Fate/School Life AKA Himuro no Tenchi, where basically she never met pretty boy King Arthur and never got those nasty yandere traits that she's mainly known for. That's why she may seem a tad OOC- she's not the insane tween from Fragments of Sky Silver. She's all grown up now...so it seems. And yes, that's Super Affection as her ringtone.
Next time on Fuji Curry- Boy meets girl meets eggplant, and fires get started. Look, Endsville- I uh mean Fuyuki is burning!