My name is Anna Hoshina and I’ve decided to keep a diary.
I came to this decision whilst sitting in a private hospital ward, waiting for my grandfather to die. If you’ve ever waited for someone to die, then you’ll appreciate that it can be an extremely tedious process, particularly when you’re almost totally indifferent to the person doing the dying. The reason for my indifference is complicated and not something that I’m keen to share at this particular moment, but I may well return to it on a later occasion.
I suppose I should begin by telling you a little about myself, enough so that you can at least picture me. I’m a tall, charismatic man in military uniform, an ancient Oikawan sword at my hip. It belonged to the last Shogun of Oikawa, a distant relative of mine, and I wear it with pride...a true leader of men, confident that the spirits of my illustrious ancestors are gazing down upon me approvingly.
Just don’t bother looking for someone answering that description here! Most people have an idea of themselves that doesn’t quite match what others see and I’m no exception…the gap between self-image and reality is just a little wider than usual in my case.
I’m actually the little girl in the old-fashioned black dress…yes, the one that isn’t wearing a samurai sword but does have ribbons in her hair. The older man sitting beside me, whose hand I’m holding, is the president of Walstadt, Karl Drosselmeyer…my Uncle Karl. He’s not really my uncle though; he’s actually my mother’s cousin. He’s also my husband, but before you get the wrong idea, I should point out that I’m actually rather older than I look. I was already nineteen when I learned that my condition has a name- growth hormone deficiency- and is relatively straightforward to treat. Unfortunately for me, my insane grandfather (the other one) would never let me see a doctor and so for most of my life I genuinely believed that I was cursed to remain a child forever. Of course, none of this explains what dear ‘Uncle Karl’ sees in me...!
Poor Uncle Karl…he has the head for politics but not the stomach for it. He once admitted to me that he had always wanted to write children’s stories, but his uncle, my grandfather, insisted that he enter public life instead. It’s difficult to believe that he’s survived as president for over a decade, but then again grandfather was always the one pulling the strings.
Now he has to face a future without grandfather’s hand on his shoulder and frankly, it terrifies him. Uncle Karl is desperate for a way out but his colleagues won’t let him resign because after the fiasco of 1988-92, no one wants to rock the boat. And that’s where I come in. Fortunately for everyone concerned, I’m made of sterner stuff…and so when grandfather finally decides to leave us, there are going to be some changes around here!
I came to this decision whilst sitting in a private hospital ward, waiting for my grandfather to die. If you’ve ever waited for someone to die, then you’ll appreciate that it can be an extremely tedious process, particularly when you’re almost totally indifferent to the person doing the dying. The reason for my indifference is complicated and not something that I’m keen to share at this particular moment, but I may well return to it on a later occasion.
I suppose I should begin by telling you a little about myself, enough so that you can at least picture me. I’m a tall, charismatic man in military uniform, an ancient Oikawan sword at my hip. It belonged to the last Shogun of Oikawa, a distant relative of mine, and I wear it with pride...a true leader of men, confident that the spirits of my illustrious ancestors are gazing down upon me approvingly.
Just don’t bother looking for someone answering that description here! Most people have an idea of themselves that doesn’t quite match what others see and I’m no exception…the gap between self-image and reality is just a little wider than usual in my case.
I’m actually the little girl in the old-fashioned black dress…yes, the one that isn’t wearing a samurai sword but does have ribbons in her hair. The older man sitting beside me, whose hand I’m holding, is the president of Walstadt, Karl Drosselmeyer…my Uncle Karl. He’s not really my uncle though; he’s actually my mother’s cousin. He’s also my husband, but before you get the wrong idea, I should point out that I’m actually rather older than I look. I was already nineteen when I learned that my condition has a name- growth hormone deficiency- and is relatively straightforward to treat. Unfortunately for me, my insane grandfather (the other one) would never let me see a doctor and so for most of my life I genuinely believed that I was cursed to remain a child forever. Of course, none of this explains what dear ‘Uncle Karl’ sees in me...!
Poor Uncle Karl…he has the head for politics but not the stomach for it. He once admitted to me that he had always wanted to write children’s stories, but his uncle, my grandfather, insisted that he enter public life instead. It’s difficult to believe that he’s survived as president for over a decade, but then again grandfather was always the one pulling the strings.
Now he has to face a future without grandfather’s hand on his shoulder and frankly, it terrifies him. Uncle Karl is desperate for a way out but his colleagues won’t let him resign because after the fiasco of 1988-92, no one wants to rock the boat. And that’s where I come in. Fortunately for everyone concerned, I’m made of sterner stuff…and so when grandfather finally decides to leave us, there are going to be some changes around here!