Author's Note: I also started another series here on Scribblehub - Diary of Adventurer A.  It was starting to go in an odd direction, so I thought maybe I should try something different.  Clearly, this is already going in another odd direction, but I think I can write this one all the way through.  If you couldn't tell, I've been heavily influenced....

~ahhh.  March 3rd.  Hinamatsuri.  My birthday. Truly a day of ill luck.

I just turned 6, today, and the time of my birth passed nearly 15 minutes ago.  Father is still at his part-time evening job, and grandmother has been watching over me while he’s gone.  Since Father always gives me a doll for my birthday - my birthday being on this day, after all - grandmother decided to give me a special doll; this time, one of those old mechanical tea-serving dolls, a Karakuri Ningyou.  I opened the present just over an hour ago, and it honestly scared me a little, before I pasted a smile on my face and made myself play with it a bit to make grandmother happy. I’m glad I did.

Grandmother watches over me 4 evenings a week, because of Father’s second job.  Mom doesn’t, because she was murdered as part of a robbery while she was pregnant with me, but since it was close to time for me to be born, anyway, I was ok.  And so, my first birthday was a pretty bloody Hinamatsuri.

Father has a pretty decent job working as an accountant in a firm here in Tokyo, and that provides enough money for us to live on - it pays the rent, the utilities, for the food and what transportation we require, as well as clothing, emergencies (if any), and modest birthday presents for each other.  There’s really not anything left over, after all of that, though. Because of this, Father decided that he would always keep a second, part-time job, in order to make sure that any educational expenses would be taken care of properly, from kindergarten all the way up through college. He’s really a very responsible father.

Speaking of my father, it’s time for him to get off work.  “Yes, I’ll call him now, grandmother. It was a good idea not to bother him before the end of his shift.”

I press the preset call number on my grandmother’s cellular - 2, I guess because it’s my father’s secondary job.  “Hewwo, dis is Hina? Is my daddy thewe?” Yes, I still speak something like a small child. It’s supposed to be cute.  And… this is how I spoke prior to remembering myself 15 minutes ago, anyway. “Daddy? Hi Daddy. Awe you coming home now?”  He answered with a ‘Yes, right away, sweety.’ Such a good Father. “Ok daddy. Huwwy home and call the mowtuwary, because grandma died a little while ago.”  At the exact minute corresponding to the time of my birth, actually.

Did I say something wrong?  It sounds like Father fell down.  I hear voices on the other end of the line asking if he’s ok.  Ahhh, I probably shouldn’t have said it like that. 2300 years of living as a Demon Lord in a fantasy world really doesn’t prepare you for life as a six year old girl living in modern Tokyo.  I’ll have grandmother stick around for awhile to advise me.