Cancellation

“Cancelled.” The dreaded word that he’d been fearing for the past month. It washed over him, dulling his senses like a knife to a nerve. “Arata.” His editor called, snapping him to attention. “Look, I know this is hard to hear but unfortunately this is how this business is.”

“Was I not good enough?” Arata replied, choking up and feeling the sting of tears forming. “The plot wasn’t. We got good ratings in the first few releases but, after that it dropped ranking gradually every chapter. Other manga started and were more popular.”

A gruelling half an hour of planning for a rushed ending he had no motivation to write later, he retreated to the toilets. Even just looking into the mirror and seeing his reflection made him feel sick. To see himself like this proved it was all real. “Newer series” he’d read those newer series, sifting through them giving himself a confidence boost through nitpicking those works but, with each page he read through he felt a little more left behind. His childhood was in that work, dreams of dragons and warriors fighting for the sake of the world was all he ever had and lessons others spent diligently jotting notes, he spent drawing characters. But all that was over. “Gale Force Wings is over” he told himself, reliving all the moments, seeing all the characters, all of them flushing down the drain like the tears leaving his face.

Wiping away his pain and with a heavy heart, he shuffled his way to the exit, unable to lift his head. “Arata!” His editor called from behind. “Don’t stop writing. Bring me your best, and I will make you a number one seller!” The young writer paused and bowed before he left.

*-*-*

The heart yearned for the comforts of home. To be cheered up by his parents, to eat a good meal and to sleep. Even hearing his father’s nagging about getting a real job would have helped now, anything but this total numbness. But, he was in the big city now and they were in Kyūshu, and his big city apartment felt more like a prison cell. Maybe some good food could heal a broken heart, the store near home had a sale on chicken this morning. The mere thought of it, sizzling in the pan and slapped on top a bed of rice with a nice glaze to level it up, even if just a little made him feel better.

Back home, his desk welcomed him, cluttered with rough sketches of future characters to never see another page, ink stains and pens scattered here and there. A sigh brought back the reality.

Dinner was ready an hour later, along with the six or seven cans of booze he drank as if they were going to grow legs and run away. His head lay on his coffee table, looking vacantly around the room as his vision spun. His eyes focussed on the framed certificate, he’d won it in a writing contest as a kid. “Now look at you.” He murmured. “What the hell am I gonna do now?”

Gale Force Wings was a series he had been working on since that same contest, it was something he poured his heart into, created characters and began to love them like his own children. Cheered when they succeeded, blushed when they fell in love, cried when he had to kill them. They gave him everything, but he could only give them a measly fifteen chapters. It was all he knew.

Tears started to well up again, hearing the word “cancelled” again. His eyes wandered down to the bag by his side. Instinctively he bought the latest copy of the magazine. Maybe seeing his work in there would make him feel like it did the first time. But ten minutes of reading later he just felt like a failure. The next page revealed the next big series, those same series that would replace him. He read through the first one, a story of a time travelling samurai… drivel, stupid. And the next “Reinhardt the Saviour… another Isekai? Good Lord. How am I losing to this?” And then the final, the one about the magical cards, people searching for the special “shooting star” card to grant any dream. That one he liked, that one he could relate to. Reading the heartbreak of the heroine as she watches her lover die for a dream, tears became lakes running down his table. “Bring him back, Yui! It’s what your father would want!” He sobbed. A dream to die for he read with vigour.

Night fell on his misery and his eyelids felt heavy. Tears still drying on his face, he covered himself, ready for this day to finally be over. “Cancelled” the word echoing in his mind and his characters, slowly fading away… “I wish I could save you…”

“Your wish has been heard.”

*-*-*

When he woke, there was no bed, there was no cluttered desk and no scattered beer cans. It was the void. An infinity of black and red in all directions. Arata checked himself, trying to find anything that might explain this. “Am I dead? I mean I know I had a drink last night but…”

“Fear not, Gamō Arata.”

Behind him, where there was nothing before, a throne appeared, and a shadow sat upon it. “You are indeed still alive.”

“What is this place?” He asked, still looking around for any other changes to the surroundings.

“This is the Middle, my realm.”

“Your realm?” He queried “who are you?”

The shade stood “my name matters not. I brought you here, after hearing your wish I felt obliged to provide that chance.”

Arata looked puzzled. He couldn’t remember making any sort of wish, certainly not to any shady fellow such as this. It seemed the shadow caught this and clicked their fingers, in an instant the memory flowed back to Arata. “I wish I could save you”.

“You are failing your characters. But, I believe I can assist you in protecting your precious work.” The figure added.

Any trace of worry and doubt washed away from his face to be replaced by pure joy. “You can help uncancel my work?!” The suggestion alone brought a tear to his eye and his hands together however the shade held up its arm, awkwardly coughing.

“I will send you to another world, to live and learn of life outside of your norm. Through trial and tribulation you shall find your way back home, with the knowledge to protect that which is yours! What say you!? Gamō Arata?!”

“No thank you.” He replied with a courteous smile.

The shade flinched back, falling back on the throne. “Oh, uh… gotta tell you that’s never happened before. Every person I bring here is all Can’t wait for the big chested elves or Bring on the legendary sword!” Arata’s ears pricked with the mention of elves and their well endowed chest… he wasn’t very good at hiding the slight excitement and immense perversion. The shade had no face and yet it managed to look at him with pure disgust all the same.

How many Isekai stories had Arata read? Even he wouldn’t have known the answer, the idea of being summoned to another world without the help of vehicular manslaughter was how he would have wanted his life to progress. However, those stories were never his goal, it was always to be the god of those worlds, the one to bring forth the land and sea, the light and dark, and all the people that would create beautiful legacies. To be a character? “Look, I just wanna save my series, I don’t want to go to another world.”

The shade was speechless. It sort of had a discussion with itself, confusing the subject of its confusion. “Uh… I’ll be honest I’ve been doing this for years, I’ve never had to reverse the process…”

“So, what are you saying?” Arata asked. Without even another word, the black and red of the void circled around beneath him. “Hey, what’s going on?!”

“Sorry guy… have fun!”

The floor opened up and swallowed him, falling deep into the nothingness he could only muster a scream.

*-*-*

“Ughh… my head…”

“What the…”

There was no void… but also no apartment. The sun was so bright he couldn’t see five feet in front of himself. “That wasn’t a dream?” He had landed high on his shoulders, his legs somehow over his head.

When he did manage to stand, he connected with something above him, noggin’ first with a good thud. It was a street sign, wooden and withered… “Heimstadt?” He read out slowly. His head started to hurt again, different to the head trauma, more like a hangover. It felt as if his brain was jumping against his skull, and with it, little bits of memory broke free. Heimstadt… that was the name of…

He rushed into the town. Each building made him panic more and more, all until he reached the tallest one, a chapel with a distinctive stained glass window. “You gotta be kidding me…”

“This is…”

The memory flashed again “Another Isekai? How am I losing to this?”

“This is… Reinhardt the Saviour!”

“I’m in a Manga?!”