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"The Ball"
The boy sucked on his finger as he crouched behind the horse cart. His bare feet were filthy from exploring the dusty streets of the town all morning. He grinned, remembering how he'd finally managed to elude his mother while she was haggling over the price of a melon in the market square. He could find his own way back home… once he'd had his fun, of course.
His mother told him all the time to not go wandering through the town alone. But she couldn't stop him. She couldn't catch him! But she knew he'd come back home once he got hungry.
A group of men had gathered in the small plaza by the riverside. The boy watched as the group of men stood close together in a circle, facing inward. What's going on?
Before his astounded young eyes, the men began passing a ball around the circle, using only their feet. "Wow!" the boy breathed. They look so calm, so relaxed… it's like the ball just floats between them! Already his feet were itching to move; he wanted to be a part of the action.
His mother's words came back to him: "You must always stay with me when we visit the town. You'll be safe as long as I'm with you, but they might be mean to you if they catch you alone."
"Why, Mother?" he'd asked.
"Because… you're special," she said with a sad smile as she kissed his forehead. "They'll be a little afraid of you because of that. And when people are afraid, they do things they normally wouldn't dream of doing. Understand?"
"Yes, Mother."
"I'm special," he repeated to himself. He drew himself up to his full 80-centimeter height, and steeled himself with a deep breath. All I have to do is smile… whenever I smile at Mother, she always smiles back, even when she's been crying.
His feet padded softly on the cobblestones as he approached the circle. His eyes stayed focused on the bobbing ball; so intent was he on his goal that he took no notice of the people who milled around him. He didn't hear the whispers of the old hags as he passed them by. He was completely unaware of the mothers who clutched their children protectively before hurrying away with them, like hens protecting their chicks.
In this manner, the plaza was largely cleared before he even got to the circle. He scampered in between two of the men, joining the circle.
One of the men looked at him. Then another, and another. The ball was dropped as the intended receiver's attention lay on the red-robed boy. He smiled up at them. "Can I play?" He stretched out his arms and blinked his golden eyes.
None of the men spoke. Then the one who had dropped the ball picked it up again, and smiled back. The boy didn't yet understand the difference between nice smiles and mean ones.
"Sure you can play, half-breed," the man said. He tossed the ball over his shoulder. "Go fetch!"
The boy dashed after the ball as it bounced across the ornate bridge. He caught up to it quickly enough, but even as he turned around to return to the circle, the ball solidly in his grasp, the remaining crowd dispersed. Is it time to stop playing? He watched as the last people vanished.
"Inuyasha."
He turned, searching for the face to match his mother's voice. He cast the ball aside as he ran into her arms, silver hair streaming behind.
His mother enfolded him in the softness of her pink kimono. She'd been worried about her son, and had come looking for him. She'd been watching.
Inuyasha snuggled into his mother's warm embrace, the confusion of the past minutes already forgotten. Still, one thing niggled at the back of his mind. His mother had been teaching him how to read and write and speak all sorts of words, but they'd used an unfamiliar one.
He looked up into her gentle face. "Mother… what's a… hanyou?"
Izayoi's eyes misted over as she knelt and held her son tight. "Mother? What's wrong?" He could always tell when she was crying; even if he'd been sleeping and she muffled her sobs with her pillow, he would have awoken and come to her bedside.
I can't tell him… not yet… oh, god, he doesn't deserve to be treated this way.
"Mother?"
What do I do? He won't understand yet. "I… I'll tell you when you're a bit older, Inuyasha. Remember how I said there are some things you don't need to know just yet? This is one of those things."
"Oh… ok."
Izayoi held her son and cried, knowing that he would carry that label the rest of his life. I have to protect him as long as I can…
