I suppose this is very true, when you look at where my life has led me. I like to think that my good qualities shine more often than the bad ones. After all I think I’ve been a good daughter.
This is my father, Hiroshi. He is fifty-six years old presently, having been in his thirties when I was born – that would have made him born in 1959. Japan was regaining it’s identity during this time. Despite the increasing influence of Western civilization, Dad was raised with traditions and values firmly put into place during his childhood, before he was permitted to indulge in more Western fare, such as kaiju movies.
Dad says he was the officer on duty that responded to an accident she was involved in. It was a very bad auto accident, and she had no one – he felt badly for her, so after his shift he found her at the hospital and offered to keep her company.
After she was cleared to leave, her took her to an izakaya to try and get her to relax amidst some good food. What he didn’t expect was a charming, brilliant woman that threw him for a loop.
Dad proposed to her two years after they met, married a year after that, and had me about a year after that. The following year kaasan was killed in the subway sarin incident. Otosan was devastated, and for a long time could not function like a man ought to, he says. He was very depressed, and threw himself into his work, taking on extra shifts and working harder than ever. It was his way of coping, and I don’t blame him for the lack of his presence during my earliest years in the least.
Oh, he didn’t ignore me. He had his parents, my grandparents, raise me. I didn’t see him often, but when I did the time we spent together was special, and he would buy me small things or pretty things to make me happy. My grandparents, bless their hearts, instilled in me some honored traditions, but let me have free reign when it came to modern influences. They understood it was the way of the world now, and were content to let me indulge in it – so long as I was respectful.
When I was five, Otosan retired from the police force at the young age of forty, in order to take up a job that was not only more lucrative, but would make better use of his skills. His tenure at a local, renowned pharmaceutical company may have only been eleven years, however he had a remarkable record, which is why he was recommended for the head of security position here in the states.
A year after my father changed employment, my grandparents grew very ill, and were no longer able to take care of me. My father hired a neighbor woman by the name of Hiyama Takako to take care of me while he worked. Takako had children of her own so no especial attention was paid to me, but I got the care I needed, and thought my father a great man for always seeing that I was provided for.
When I started lower middle school, he decided that I was old enough to see to my own care after school, but I was to mind his rules. I could have friends over, he said, but I was not to run rampant. It was when I was twelve that I really began to get into drawing and fashion. I even made my own clothes, if you can count crafting cosplay costumes for myself and my friends as making clothes.
I had always enjoyed anime, and had been reading various manga since I could remember, my tastes changing with time. When I was old enough to take care of myself I received a generous allowance, which I often spent on manga and artbooks, art supplies, and cloth and such that I needed for cosplay, though if I needed more Otosan never said no.
I was teasingly called an otaku by my friends, but it was never in a mean way. They appreciated my little obsession, in fact. I was good at recommending things for them to watch or read in their spare time, and they loved my costumes, considering it a challenge amongst themselves to come up with more and more elaborate costumes for me to make for them.
When not cosplaying at various conventions or just for fun, we would often gather together to play games, or simply watch something together. Sometimes we would do kareoke for fun, other times we’d just have fun being us. It was about being together, and we’d been friends since primary school, and thought we’d be friends for a long time yet.
We did not have much time to take in the packing, as the company wanted Otosan overseas as soon as possible. We packed up our belongings that we did not give away, and had them shipped overseas. The flight itself was long and dull, and we spoke very little. I was still feeling very hurt by the move and his dispossession of my mother – so much so that I didn’tan
After what felt like forever, we arrived at a luxury hotel where my father had made arrangements for us to stay until he had time to locate and purchase home for us. Waiting for him was a packet of information concerning my school – he had had the foresight to make sure I was enrolled before we left, so that I could attend right away and not be alone while he was working. Looking it over, I balked slightly – I had two and a half days to prepare myself for an American high school – and I didn’t have the slightest clue what to expect.