Owner Name:
Verdana
Name:
Hiroshi
Gender:
Male
Story:
Hiroshi is a Japanese name meaning 'generous' or, alternatively, 'prosperous'.
Both meanings of this name will become relevant in his tale.
A Change of Fortunes
Some people are born lucky. They pass through life unscathed and pampered. Their wishes are easily granted, and they are not often inhibited. They succeed. Still more people pass under misfortune's radar. While they are not particularly lucky, neither are they particularly unlucky.
I envy both groups, for I belonged to a third, far less fortunate group.
I was near-terminally unlucky.
Bad luck seemed to follow me wherever I went. From an early age, I was struck down time and time again by ill fortune. If ever there was a ditch to fall into, my feet would find it. When illness struck my village, I was never exempt. Constant injury, wrongful treatment and a seeming bias against me by life in general led to a growing discontent and cynicism in my nature. The older I grew, the worse my luck became, until, by the time I reached adolescence, I could see that no success would ever come my way if I remained in my village. Pessimistic though I was, I was not prepared to spend the rest of my life in ruin.
I decided to travel.
This was, perhaps, not the wisest path for someone as despised by fate as I was. One by one, my wagons were robbed, my ships destroyed by storms, my horses foundered beneath me. Yet, although my travelling companions came to despise the bad luck I carried, I never died. I began to suspect, wryly, that death was far too lucky for one such as me. Life, being the less pleasant of the two, was my destiny.
I did not find a home any more easily than I had where I was born. If I was not forcibly sent from a region, I was made so uncomfortable there that I had no real alternative but to leave. I ventured far and wide, until, one balmy summer's evening, I found myself beside a long and lonely river, winding through a small island in the Orient. I had found myself on one such isle after my small boat ran aground, and had been bouncing, like a thrown stone, from island to island ever since.
Across from me, the lights of a village glittered distantly. I looked over to them broodingly, with no particular fondness. I had just been driven out, unjustly accused of theft. I had thrown a net into the river, but every time I drew it up, it was devoid of all except pebbles and slime. Mournfully, I was weighing up the benefits and detriments of drowning versus starvation, when I saw a shiver of motion in the water, and something gleaming gold and faintly phosphorescent broke the moonlit surface of the river.
It was too far away for me to see clearly, but even as it approached me, I remained disinterested. I regret to say that I was feeling rather sorry for myself, and saw the small shape as no real threat. The closer it came, the more quickly it took form, until it became recognisable as a relatively large rune dragon.
I did not exactly fall over myself with excitement. I did not know much about rune dragons, but I knew enough not to like them much. They had always carefully avoided me. I hadn't blamed them. Furthermore, a childhood acquaintance of mine had once had a rune dragon as a companion, and I had, in all my seven year-old wisdom, tried to hold it.
This had further cemented my dislike for the little monsters.
It swam, closer and closer, until it was only partially submerged. It stood upon the sand, rocking with the motion of the river and regarding me carefully. I looked back at it, with a lack of much else to watch. Neither of us advanced, but neither retreated, either. I began to grow uncomfortable, due to the creature's probing gaze. I had never heard of a grievous rune-related injury, but if anyone was likely to set the trend, it would have been me. However, I was aware that rune dragons were intelligent, and sought for something to say.
"I... Don't have anything," I explained awkwardly, not familiar with rune dragon etiquette. The creature flinched at the sound of my voice, and slid down into the water as I lifted my hands, proffering my empty net.
"See? Nothing."
The little creature tipped its head. It turned around, evidently to leave.
Then it hesitated. It stood, tail rippling with ethereality, seeming deep in thought, for quite some time. Then, almost reluctantly, it turned back to face me.
I felt that I read a clear pity in the rune's face, and resented it. I flapped my arms in its direction.
"Go away! I have nothing for you. Shoo!"
Although it flinched, the creature did not heed my instructions. It was dark, but I was sure that it rolled its eyes. Its attitude conveyed the sentiment accurately enough, in any case. It slithered, determinedly, straight towards me.
"Go away!" I yelped, as it stopped, looking up from my folded legs. I could read its motives clearly in its eyes. It wanted to climb onto me.
I was not wrong. It took a breath, steeling itself, and placed one claw on my leg.
"Get off!" I shook it away. It was deterred for a moment, but not for long. With a huff, it placed one talon, and the next, onto my leg, and settled itself quite decidedly in my lap.
In tales and ballads, an immediate change comes over the protagonist in that sort of situation. Perhaps I am no protagonist, for I felt nothing of the sort. The dragon looked up at me probingly. I suspect that we both felt somewhat embarrassed by our situation. I certainly did. After a while, the dragon looked towards my net. I threw up my hands in dismay (alarming the little dragon in the process).
"I told you! I don't have any! If you're hungry, you may as well catch your own dinner."
The dragon gave me an exasperated look. He thrust his head towards my net again, emphatically.
"I don't get it."
'Clearly you don't,' his face seemed to say. There was something decidedly male about the little thing.
He hopped off of my lap. I was relieved, until he swished over to my net, and grabbed ahold of it. I scrambled to my feet.
"Hey!"
He looked back at me, my net in his mouth, his eyes wearily amused. I understood, and bent down to him, shamefaced.
"Oh. You want me to..."
'Throw it into the water. Yes.' He didn't need to speak to convey the sentiment.
I had nothing to lose, nothing better to do. I picked up the net, and threw it into the river.
I waited.
A look of intense concentration bled over the rune dragon's face.
I waited some more.
The dragon hunched his shoulders, panting with effort.
I felt a wriggle.
I disregarded it.
I felt another wriggle, and it was too strong to be coincidence. I drew up the net, and shouted with surprise. Two fat fish flopped between the threads.
I turned to the little dragon, to find him lying on his side, gasping. The effort of overcoming my terrible luck had been taxing for the poor little fellow. I knelt down beside him, and picked up one fish. Grinning, I held it out to him, and as he rolled onto his feet to accept it, he seemed to smile too.
It took us weeks to settle on a name for me to use. He rejected any offers I made quite resolutely. I knew a dab of the languages of the Orient, and so Hiroshi (or 'Hiro' for short) was eventually allowed. We both agree that it fits.
He's a bossy little thing, my friend. He makes many of my decisions now, with no small force if I am unobservant. I don't mind, though. He is usually right. We spend much of our time on or near the water, but I don't mind that either. It's peaceful, and Hiro is happiest there.
I will certainly never be lucky. Fortune no longer glowers down at me, although it doesn't beam, either. I don't think I will ever find a place in which to settle down, either.
That's alright, though. Anywhere can be home, as long as Hiroshi is beside me.
From the diary of Gregor Snowden
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