Super long chapter guys, but I got it done. I'm going to go pass out now because it's 1 AM and I have to get up in 4 hours for school... *dies* Enjoy! I don't know when the next chapter will be posted...
"You're done?" Kiku asked in surprise, his voice lightening with the news. "That's great! Is it in the mail now?"
"I'm not sending it through the post," Arthur replied, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and reached for his tea, only to find it cold. Arthur stood and staggered to the kitchen again, turning the stove back on to reheat the kettle. Arthur got more leaves out and another tea cup out.
There was a pause on the other end. "Are you paying me a visit?" Kiku asked.
"Mmhm," Arthur hit the print button and looked at his waking printer. It wined but the pages came out, covered in ink.
"Is it that important?" Kiku asked. He sounded worried.
"It is." Arthur said. "It's the end." Arthur could hear the chair scrape back through the phone speaker.
"What do you mean 'it's the end'?" Kiku paused. "The end of your series?"
Arthur replied with a tired 'yes'.
"Oh." Kiku paused again, taking time to process. "Your fans will be disappointed."
"I know," Arthur said. "But Francis needs to end." Arthur heard voices talking to Kiku and Kiku held the phone away from his mouth. Arthur listened but couldn't make anything out.
"I've got to go, Arthur," Kiku said. "I will talk to you later."
Arthur sighed and set the phone down. Kiku, while quite considerate and polite, could get riled up if his main profit avenue was closing. Though it wasn't as if Arthur was being forced against his will to write and it wasn't as if Arthur would stop writing, but Arthur was sick of hearing all about Francis.
Francis.
Portrayed as analytical, proud, and handsome, Francis had caught the attention of most women. Being French also left some to the imagination as the foreign nature of the man was exotic and exciting. Personally, Arthur couldn't stand the French and scoffed at their accents and culture. But somehow, he'd made his main character French.
Francis's end would be a relief.
Half way through Arthur's second book, The Panther, he'd tested the waters with the possibility of Francis's death but had resurrected him before the next chapter. He'd read numerous letters that had commented on those chapters specifically, expressing concern, relief and excitement. 'Most authors don't scare the audience like that!' many had said. 'We were so scared for him!'
He's just a character. Just words on the page, Arthur would always say in response, not like the readers could hear him though.
Arthur stared at his old fashioned phone. It was an old Paramount rotary desk phone that he'd had in his family since his grandfather's time. He thought about how his relatives had used this phone previously as well and how he remembered what a pain it was to connect the phone so he could get calls in and out of his house.
Previously, Arthur had thought of not even getting a phone, cable, and internet connection but he soon found that others needed to communicate with him quicker than 'snail mail' and that having internet allowed him to type and search quicker since type writer ink was so expensive and hard to come by nowadays. He didn't like so much of his budget being portioned out just for the sake of writing. Pens and paper weren't so expensive but then someone had to be hired- no, paid (because god forbid a job being created out of necessity)- to type up the entirety of the book.
Kiku Honda, Arthur's editor, had almost forced him to set up an email though. Arthur had finally obliged but had refused to check it religiously, deciding to post his PO box to make up for abstaining to post the email address online.
Kiku had also put a hit counter onto the author website and was amazed counter shot up past the first few millions.
Arthur himself had checked out the site, clicking on and reading every page. Occasionally, he scoffed as the truth was stretched but was overall pleased with what could be read on Arthur.
Kiku insisted on interviews and other marketing elements to be on the site to promote Arthur and his books further. Arthur had agreed to them but felt a bit... used for portraying himself for the public to know and not to know at the same time.
Kiku was the driving force of Arthur's publishing and also was the one who discovered Arthur's writing abilities. As an old friend and business partner though, Kiku could be firm and forceful when he needed to be, a value Arthur truly appreciated.
Even though that meant attempts to convince the English author to continue to write for Francis's series were going to be harder to resist.
Arthur sighed and walked back to his room, unbuttoning his clothes from the previous day. He'd fallen asleep on his couch in his clothes, too tired to care to change after spending the majority of the night finishing his final novel.
After a quick shower, Arthur dressed and checked the weather. It was late afternoon and Arthur felt as if he was behind. Sleeping in late was never part of his schedule but the sun was already high in the sky, hidden behind the clouds, when he awoke. Arthur tutted when he glanced at the clock again and grabbed his house keys. He pulled on a rain jacket (the forecast was bad today) and walked out the front door, locking it behind him. He started walking to the small, remote train station and bought himself a ticket.
As he waited for the train, he glanced around the familiar station. The station was almost always empty, the occasional visitors marveled at how 'cute' and 'quaint' it was. Residents rarely met each other on the train. Arthur always liked the station because it served its purpose perfectly with nothing extra. There were no coffee shops or photo booths and everyone arrived and departed on time. Arthur was not a fan of most modern escapes.
Then the train rattled up and the doors slid open. Arthur stepped on and found a seat. There was only one other rider in the train car but Arthur didn't look at him. He kept to himself as well and the two rode in silence. Arthur daydreamed about other possible plots for future books, and then about an idea partner.
When the train stopped at the main station, Arthur stood and filed out, ready for fresh air again. He walked down the street, not worried at all about the distance between the train station and his destination.
All in all, Arthur was content.
Kiku turned around to face Arthur, holding up a finger before Arthur could speak.
"Mmhm. Yes. No! Tell them no. Well we have to make deadline. No, I didn't set the deadline, my boss did. No, I can't extend it." Kiku paused. "I know. I'll talk to him." He nodded and then hung up his phone, setting it on the desk and sighing. Kiku looked at Arthur and sighed again.
"… Everything alright?" Arthur asked. Kiku was Arthur's friend before his editor. He was short, Japanese, and very straight laced. His almond brown eyes missed nothing and he was Arthur's first fan. They had met during a house exchange program and had met in the airport. Arthur spent a week in Japan in Kiku's house while Kiku spent a little over a week and a half in England in Arthur's house. The last half they spent together, getting to know each other better.
They were both awkward and yet forceful and deliberate. Kiku was passive while Arthur was aggressive (but only when necessary, as Arthur said). Their half-week was spent quietly sipping teas and trading poetry, teaching each other their cultures and bonding. Arthur was the one who'd trusted Kiku with his rough draft first.
Their business relationship was as good as their normal friendship.
"Things are fine. Other authors are not as... punctual as you." Kiku smiled slightly and organized a few paper stacks on his desk. "You didn't have to come to the offices... I could've paid a visit after work."
Arthur shrugged. "I had to get out. My house is... feeling empty and it's dreadfully lonely..."
"Ah..." Kiku said, understanding. Sometimes Kiku didn't like his house either because he claimed ghosts walked the hallways and kept him up at night. From what Kiku told him, Kiku used to be a young hermit, afraid to go outside and shut everyone out until one of Kiku's friends had literally pulled him out of his house and showed him all the wonderful things the world had to offer. Arthur had laughed a the time but in truth, he wished someone had done that for him too.
"You said you finished?" Kiku asked. He looked at Arthur who nodded and pulled the stuffed manila envelope.
"My series is ending." Arthur said, looking at Kiku very seriously.
"Alright..." Kiku said. He wasn't as happy as he was the first time Arthur's manuscript was finished. "I'll read it and edit it soon." He held out his hand and Arthur placed the packet in his hand. Kiku immediately slid the bounded pages out and flipped past the cover page and began to scan the first paragraph, the first page and then the first chapter.
"Sounds good so far." Kiku nodded. "I can't wait to read the rest." He smiled supportively and set the folder aside. Then he crossed his fingers and fell silent, looking at Arthur. "How have you been?"
Arthur smiled slightly. He was talking to his friend now.
"I am well. Getting the book done was... refreshing." He nodded and sighed in content. Francis would be gone now. However much people complained, he'd be done with him. No looking back.
"Ah, that's good," Kiku said. He paused then. "Would you like to get a bite to eat later? Work ends at five today."
"I would love to. Shall we go to the café on A400 and Ducannon Street? It's been a while since we've been there..."
"The National?" Kiku paused. "It will be nice to go there again..." He smiled and looked at the clock. "I shall see you there at... five thirty?."
Arthur nodded and then bid his friend good-bye, leaving the offices. Once again, he walked the streets alone but content.
Maybe I'll go shopping for a bit? He mused to himself, looking for something to keep him busy for two hours. The cat also needs some new toys, I think...
The pet store wasn't but two blocks away and was filled with everything imaginable for pets ranging from aisles of leashes and harnesses to treat toys to keep pets entertained. Occasionally, Arthur heard a squeaky toy's harsh squeal from across the store but Arthur didn't mind. Keeping the fact he'd have to carry the purchases around afterwards in mind, Arthur did not buy the bag of cat food on sale but bought a packet of cat nip and a new ball with a bell inside. His cat, Elizabeth, was getting old and didn't play much but would enjoy an engaging toy to amuse her once in a while. He browed for a good while to kill time but eventually went to pay. The cashier was nice but curt and Arthur moved on to his next destination.
The bell rang when Arthur exited the store and Arthur stepped onto the street, glancing around. He figured he could take a nice walk in the Leicester Square Garden even if the weather had retired to its usual grey state.
He started the short walk, occasionally glancing at other people and nodding politely but didn't say anything. He commented mentally on the cars whizzing by but did not long for one to cut his walk short. The shops were open and inviting but Arthur wanted to stay outside, weather permitting. Arthur was still content.
Then his mobile rang.
He slid the rectangle out of his coat pocket, caller ID letting him know who it was.
"Are you sure you want to end the series, Arthur-san?"
Arthur sighed. Kiku had read it. Or at least glanced at chapter twenty-two.
"I am positive." Arthur said firmly. Kiku was silent for a while. Arthur had stopped walking.
"You know people will not be pleased?"
"I am sure." Another pause.
"Good luck. I will see you in forty-five minutes." Kiku hung up. Arthur continued to walk.
When he reached the park, he walked its perimeter for a while. Kiku did not sound mad (hardly anything made him mad) but he didn't sound pleased.
If my editor isn't pleased, what are the readers going to think? Arthur wondered. Will I ever sell another book? Arthur knew of plenty authors and people who'd had... media that had displeased their audience and he knew they hadn't had trouble with finances or reputation afterwards. Some had even become more popular with the discontinuation of their forms of expression. Arthur couldn't think of anyone at the moment, but he was sure there were some like that.
An hour soon passed and Arthur was going to be late to his dinner with Kiku. He walked quickly down the street but his thoughts were still tumbling around in his mind, worrying him and making him unintentionally stress himself. This was his series! He could do whatever he wanted with his characters!
Kiku was already sitting at a small table when Arthur walked in. Immediately, Arthur walked over after Kiku had spotted him and sat down, forcing himself to relax.
"I skimmed the chapters, Arthur-san," Kiku said after they'd ordered their dinners. Rice and roasted veggies for Kiku and fish n' chips for Art Arthur. "Wonderful writing as usual, except..." Kiku pulled the manuscript out and turned to the page with a blood red bookmark.
"I know," Arthur said. He had prepared for Kiku's criticisms. "I wanted him dead." Arthur was solid and would not change his mind.
"Arthur-san..." Kiku set the draft down and folded his fingers together again. He looked very calm and professional. "You don't make enough to stop writing. Your series, however good, is not enough for you to live off of..."
"I know. I won't stop writing. I just won't write with Francis anymore," Arthur nodded earnestly.
"But how do you know your next book or series will be enough? You might get some buzz from writing this series but if you end the series now, how do you know you can produce something equally as good but different?"
"I am a writer, Kiku." Arthur said, meeting the man's deep brown eyes. "Writing is a part of my life."
"But selling is just as important," Kiku countered, sitting back in his chair. He sighed but then smiled slightly. "I have faith in you, but I do not wish to see you regret your decisions."
"I won't," Arthur nodded and rubbed his cin. "I'm already developing another plot now." He said confidently as he lied through his teeth.
"Good. Let me know when you need an editor," Kiku smiled slightly.
Their food arrived then and they ate talking quietly among themselves about trivial things, enjoying the dinner together. Arthur was invited to travel with Kiku to stay in Japan for the summer and Arthur told him that he'd think about it. They talked of past novels and other authors, commenting on books previously read and listing recommendations of other literature. Arthur promised to read a Japanese manga called Shingeki no Kyojin where the plot and characters had some parallels to Arthur's series and Francis. Kiku had copies at his house and would lend the series to Arthur the next time they saw each other.
At eight o'clock, the two parted ways, and Arthur headed for home. The train ride home seemed different though. Arthur was not content.
He was lonely.
Nothing Elizabeth won't fix, Arthur thought as he imagined her twitching ears. She'll like her new toys.
Arthur watched his country whizz by the windows, blurring and melting together. Soon, the train emptied and he was one of five patrons still riding.
Something was unsetting Arthur.
He walked home alone, the vast countryside spreading itself for him. His house looked small on its small dirt road form the station, his white mailbox seeming to beckon him. Arthur walked past it though, he never checked the box, his mail was always slid through the mail slot in his door. The post man knew that.
Arthur unlocked the door and Elizabeth was waiting for him, waiting in her cat bed for him to come home. She mewled sleepily and Arthur patted her head, hanging his coat on the rack. He unpacked the cat toys and cat nip, tossing the musical, scented ball towards Elizabeth who sniffed it and batted at it a bit. Arthur got ready for a relaxing evening alone by prepping a pot of tea. He decided to actually try and brainstorm a few ideas. Kiku would be reading his novel now and making marks where spell check had missed errors.
The sunset beautifully that night, but Arthur did not see it. He had fallen asleep in his chair, his cat warming his lap and his tea cooling on the side table. An abandoned pad of paper and a pen had scattered at Arthur's feet having slipped from the author's grasp. The house was silent.
Arthur woke at exactly four in the morning. He woke slowly, sluggishly remembering where everything was and what had happened. His house was dark except the side table's yellow lamp. Arthur ran a hand through Elizabeth's soft fur, thinking groggily to himself.
I never got the mail, Arthur realized. He slowly moved Elizabeth off his lap, setting her on her bed, barely waking her. She was a heavy sleeper usually.
Arthur stood, grabbed a robe and stumbled out to his mail box. He didn't remember the mail had already been reviewed when he came home but he opened the mail box anyway.
Inside was a pale blue envelope, roughly the size of a standard birthday card. It was sealed with dark red wax with the imprint of a rose in it.
Mr. Arthur Kirkland, it said on the front in carefully, but elegantly, looped cursive.
Arthur retreated into his small house and stared at the envelope in wonder. He never got mail in his mail box, let alone so beautifully addressed to him. Only bills and other business matters had his real name on the envelopes, and they were always harsh, typed font.
Arthur used his letter opener to pry the flap open, his fingers running over the smooth paper.
Inside was a short letter in the same looped handwriting. Arthur's heart thumped wildly in his chest, his eyes widening.
Bonjour,
My name is Francis Bonnefoy.
Reviews are love and equal faster updates.
Btw, I didn't mean to make it Attack on Titan, and the development of the PCA plot honestly had nothing to do with the AOT plot, I was just like "hey, I like AoT and somehow, the PCA plot is similar... Let's throw in a reference! Woo!"