Chapter 12: Shockwaves [2]
Alex was sketching the draft for Chapter 13—the New Year's Hot Pot Party. He looked up. "Sign what?"
"Just sign your pen name." John paused. "I told him no. You sign one, you gotta sign a hundred."
Alex nodded and went back to drawing.
But saying no didn't stop them.
The next day, the elementary school principal called, asking if "The Dairy King" would come give a talk about agriculture to the kids. Not about manga—about farming.
"They said your drawings are more accurate than their textbooks," Sarah relayed the message. "I told them you didn't have time."
"Thanks, Mom."
The third day, a PR officer from the town council showed up at the front gate. He wanted to feature Alex in a "Hometown Heroes" segment for the town bulletin board. He wanted photos of Alex drawing in the barn.
John blocked the doorway with his broad shoulders. "Boy's shy. Doesn't see visitors."
The officer left, looking dejected.
Alex watched from his upstairs window as the car drove away. He paused, his pen hovering over the paper.
"Dad," he called out later. "Should I have done it?"
"Done what?" John didn't look up from his newspaper. "You just draw. These people... they're hot today, cold tomorrow."
Alex thought about it. John was right. He looked back down at the page. The hot pot was bubbling. Cabbage, tofu, pork. Steam rising. He needed to make the reader smell it.
The moment he truly felt the heat of his success was on Friday, when he went into town for supplies.
He was just there to buy ink and check for reference books at the bookstore. He walked in and immediately heard a girl's excited voice.
"That's him! The cover is this scene!"
In the corner of the store, a group of high schoolers was huddled around a copy of NextGen. The cover—Hachiken watching the sunrise—had gold foil lettering that caught the light.
"This panel layout is insane! Look at the lighting..."
"And the negative space here..."
"I heard the author is local."
"Really? With the pen name 'Alex Walker'? Could be anyone."
Alex pulled his baseball cap lower and moved to the other side of the aisle. Henderson was stocking shelves. He saw Alex and raised an eyebrow.
"You're here?" Henderson whispered. "Those kids have been here all week. They buy the magazine and then just stand there debating it."
"Debating what?"
"You," Henderson straightened up. "Pacing. Character arcs. Themes. One kid even made a 'Hachiken Growth Chart' in his notebook."
Alex blinked. "A growth chart?"
"Yeah. X and Y axes. Emotional stability versus agricultural competence." Henderson chuckled. "Kids these days study comics like it's science."
Alex didn't speak. He pretended to browse a shelf of tractor manuals, but his ears were tuned to the conversation.
"Do you think Hachiken will pick a major? Dairy science? Crops? Or vet school?"
"Vet school is too sad. Remember the pig arc?"
They were serious. They were invested.
It was a surreal feeling. Like watching people through a one-way mirror, seeing them passionately discuss a world he had built in his head.
"Mr. Henderson!" one of the students shouted. "When is the volume coming out?"
"Two weeks," Henderson replied.
"Save me five copies! No, ten! I'm giving them as gifts!"
"Me too!"
"Put me down for three!"
Henderson nodded, jotting it down, then glanced at Alex. Alex was hiding his face behind a book on soil pH levels.
When the kids finally paid and left, Henderson walked over. "You hear that?"
"Yeah."
"Want to do a signing when the volume drops?"
"No."
"Figured." Henderson paused. "But seriously, son. You made it. It's a hit."
Alex closed the book. "It's just the beginning."
"Right. Just the beginning." Henderson looked at him. "So keep your head on straight."
On the ride home, Alex pedaled slowly. The evening wind carried the scent of the pastures.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. An email from Sue.
He pulled over to the side of the dirt road and opened it.
Bluebird Animation has sent a formal contract proposal. Attached is the draft. Take a look. Also, attached is the draft cover design for Volume 1. I need your notes.
He opened the attachment. The contract was professional. The terms regarding royalties and creative control were surprisingly generous.
Then the cover design. Hachiken is standing at the gate of the Agricultural High School, back to the viewer, facing the vast fields and distant mountains. Simple. Evocative.
He hit reply.
Contract looks good. For the cover, add a tagline: "It starts here."
Sent.
He continued pedaling. His shadow stretched long and thin across the gravel.
Near the house, his phone buzzed again. A text message. Unknown number.
Mr. Walker, hello. I am Liu from "Manga Weekly." Apologies for the unsolicited contact. We would love to discuss a potential partnership. Please call if interested.
Alex glanced at it, then hit delete.
He remembered what Sue said about the copycats. Other magazines are seeing the success of Silver Spoon and wanting a slice of the pie. Headhunting. Poaching.
He didn't care.
He only cared about Chapter 13.
The party ends. Hachiken gets a letter from his parents. They ask if he's fitting in, if he needs money.
Hachiken writes a reply. He writes paragraphs, pours his heart out, gets angry, gets sad.
Then he crosses it all out.
And he writes just one line:
"I'm doing fine here."
(To be Continued)
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