"Hey Francis!" A man named Gilbert shouted to the French man that was examining a small polar bear named Kumajiro, "What is it? I am checking on subject K1867, mon fils said he has been more forgetful than usual..." Francis looked at the computer screen and read the results of the recent test the bear was given. "You see...About your...fils?...I was wondering if I can take him out to an awesome dinner! Sorry to leave you hanging since Toni moved to Italy...But you know! Date!" the excited albino said, Francis gave a sigh. "Oui, don't bore the living daylights out of him and if you put things in places they do not need to be yet then I will kill you. I want him brought back by 10:00PM the latest, any later and you will no longer take him out to dinner." Francis explains to Gilbert, Gilbert lets out a yelp of excitement, "Danke! Kesese!" he then does a cart-wheel before running up the stairs and exiting the lab.
After an hour of reconfiguring the brain of his son's bear, Francis reseals the small opening in the back of the bear's neck, then lets it run along, he then checks the time, it's 9:00PM, "Oh...Well I guess I shall continue to read..." The French man then picks up his novel he has been reading, the current one he was reading was a Sherlock Holmes novel. The man has always loved British culture; he like the silly accent, he loved how proper they were, he loved the style of their clothing and attire, he liked their personality, he even loved some of the obnoxious music they call 'rock'. He has only been to Britain once as a boy and the thing he remembered the most was a charming young man, he had the face of an angel, though his eyebrows were thicker than most, he was a radiant piece of art...
"Francis! Allons-y!" Francis's mother called to him, his mother was here to meet the queen because she was an amazing scientist, her work pleased the queen so the queen of Britain requested to meet her. His father wasn't too far behind the two, he was examining the paintings inside of the palace. The small blond haired boy ran over to his mother and grabbed her hand, a man in a suit greeted Francis's mother and father, that's when Francis was distracted, he let go of his mother's hand and ran over to a painting of a beautiful young woman with a soft face and beautiful hair.
"Oh yes, Queen Elizabeth I, quite a beauty...The painting is quite exquisite." a silky voice said, the accent wasn't familiar so Francis guessed it was British. The man's face had a smile lightly painted on his face, his eyes glistened the green of a forest in the Spring. "Bonjour, je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy, comment tu t'appelle?" young Francis said to the beautiful man, "Désolé, je m'appelle Kirkland. Parlez-vous anglais?" Kirkland said to the boy. "Yes, is your name really Kirkland?" Francis asked, Kirkland let out a soft chuckle, "No, my name is not to be shared but everyone refers to me as Sir Kirkland or simply Kirkland."
The small boy was confused so he smiled and started a conversation with the man, they walked throughout the palace while holding a conversation, Francis learned that Kirkland is 23 years of age and for some reason he learned he was 5'9", Francis was only 3'7", due to him only being 6 1/2 years of age. They were sharing stories and interests, it all ended when Francis's parents came to retrieve him. Kirkland kneeled down and pulled a small book out of nowhere practically, "This is my favourite book about one of my favourite kings, King Arthur. Please care for this book and the next time we meet, I will bring you a novel about magic and wizards." Kirkland grinned. Francis accepted the book and gave Kirkland a hug, he then pulled away, "Merci mon ami!" Francis was sad but he waved goodbye to Kirkland while exiting the palace with his parents. He will always remember the green military styled suit the man wore and his slightly disheveled blond hair with dazzling green eyes and "well-grown" eyebrows. That man was one that Francis could never forget.
Ring Ring.
Francis was taken away from his flashback due to the phone ringing. He then answered it just as the clock struck 10:00PM, "Bonjour, Francis speaking." he said, unbeknownst of what the phone call was about. "Francis Bonnefoy, father of Matthew Willams-Bonnefoy and acquaintance of Gilbert Beilschmidt? I am truly sorry to tell you this news but the two that I previously mentioned have been in a terrible accident, there was nothing the paramedics could do...Matthew and Gilbert were found deceased by the time we arrived."
That was the moment that Francis's heart stopped, he had lost everything..."Are you sure!? This is no joke?!" he shouted into the phone, the man on the other side confirmed it. The tears that streamed down Francis's face were never ending as he hung the phone up and cried, he yelled and thrashed at the lab equipment, which caused glass to shatter everywhere. He then got up from his chair and ran up the stairs and out the door. He then got in his car and left to the hospital, where the bodies of his beloved son and his best friend waited.
.:•:.
It has been five months since the funeral, Francis sat in his chair that was in his lab. He was determining whether or not to move out of the house, but he started packing anyways. There was one box that the Frenchman had eyes on, it was a box from his childhood that was marked 'Kerklund', due to his terrible six-year old grammar. Francis got up from his seat and grabbed the box, then he carried it over to his study table. He opened the box and looked inside to find drawings and letters, he looked at the crayon drawing of him and Kirkland, he also read some of the badly written letters that consisted of a few French/English words and a juice stain. He lightly smiled then saw a book at the bottom of it all, on the cover was simply an elegant blade, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table was the title. Kirkland gave this to me...All of the memories flooded into his head. He then remembered that Kirkland was going to give Francis another book the next time they met, knowing the man was 23 when Francis was 6. He must be well in his 50's now...56 years of age...Maybe...
Kumajiro tugged on Francis's pant leg, "Are you Matthew?" the small bear asked. Francis gave the bear a smile that masked sorrow, "No, I am his father, Francis." he replied. This is one of my greatest creations so far...A bear with the knowledge of speaking, besides a few flaws here and there...Maybe I can make better...
The French man's head then snapped up as an idea popped into his head, he then pulled out a notebook and started writing down many things and sketching designs. He pulled out his laptop and started on one of the greatest creations in a lifetime.