Solemnly, he placed the blocks, one upon the other, forming a small tower. Adult voices floated around him, he didn't pay them much attention as he reached forward to balance another brightly painted block, embroidered kimono drooping off the edge of a shoulder.
The voices rose.
"It is an honor. He will be clan head, he will be great."
"He'll die. He's your son, don't you care?"
Another block on the pile. The voices fly back and forth.
"What does it matter, there's nothing we can do anyway, is there?"
Silence.
Footsteps echoed as one of the adults headed over to the small boy, shaking him slightly. "Put them away now. Your mother has something to tell you."
The boy cocked his head to one side, listening at tentatively, but not moving to knock down the blocks. Sighing, the woman reached over and clasped her hands around his smaller ones, taking it apart piece by piece, and putting it the box where they belonged.
"Honestly, they're yours, you should take better care of them," as she settled him closer to her body, letting him cuddle closer to her warmth. "You're a big boy now, aren't you?"
He nodded.
Her eyes closed, and she began to rock him back and forth. "You want to protect your family, don't you? Don't you want to protect your mama?" No response, but his hand wound it's way into her hair, tugging at the straggling strands. "No, no. Let go, you're hurting me." She forced his hand away.
The man approached.
"Aren't you going to tell him?"
She put down the boy and rose to her feet. "How can you tell a child something like that? Wait until he's older at least."
"How much older? He needs to savor what he can get. He has a responsibility."
The boy watched with interest.
"You explain it then." A moment of silence.
"Fine." He bent down to the little boy's level; not touching him but so close their noses almost bumped. "You are going to be a very important person, son. When you're older you will be the head of this family. Do you understand?" As he continued to get no response he shook the boy slightly, until he made a soft noise of distress. "I know you can talk, answer me."
The woman took a step forward but faltered, instead moving to put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Don't hurt him."
"I'm not hurting him. I'm teaching him respect." He shrugged off the restraining hand.
Softly the voice spoke up. "I understand."
With a pointed look at his wife, the man smiled with difficulty at the child. "Good boy."
Quickly, before he had the chance to continue the woman interrupted. "That's enough for today, he doesn't need to know the rest yet." She bent down to scoop the boy into her arms, lifting him easily.
As she walked across the room the man followed her, grasping her by the shoulder, turn her to face him. "If he understands his position he needs to understand the costs. How many years do you think he has?" The woman took a step back, horrified. The man continued advancing a pace. "Some live until twenty, some thirty. And some," sighs "not that long."
Her shoulders slumped. "Fine. I'll tell him. Leave us alone for a few minutes."
With a backward glance, he left.
Shaking her head, the woman settled the little boy back onto the ground, lifting the lid of the box where they'd carefully put the blocks away shortly before. "Let's play a little, yes? Mama will help you this time. Let's see what we can make!" There was a certain forced cheer around her mouth but if the child noticed it he had no reaction.
Removing one block from the box she put it in front of them. "That's the mouse. You remember the story about the mouse, don't you?" He reached for the block but she gently stopped him. "We're not done yet. Look," a she brought out another one, "it's the ox. The mouse rode on the ox to the great party." She put the first block on top of the second and galloped them around the floor, causing the boy to laugh, and then she put them back, next to each other.
And so it went for each of the twelve Jyuunishi, until there was a great pyramid of blocks. Finally she drew out the last block and stuck it on the very top, where it balanced precariously. "And on the very top is the most important and special one of all, yes?" He nodded, leaning closer to the pile of blocks until his face was level with its height.
"There you are, top of the pyramid. That's mama's boy." And for just a second her eyes were full of pride. But it faded as she sat there, watching the little boy and his pile of toys. "But futures made of blocks don't make for very sturdy lives. They're too small, and sometimes..." Her voice trailed off.
He turned to look at her.
"Sometimes they just...slip." And with a quick movement of fingers she knocked off the top block and watched it fall to the ground.
With a soft cry the boy hurriedly tried to replace it but the woman caught his hands in hers, trapping it where it was. His legs kicked out, tumbling the rest of the pyramid.
Her voice was steady, though her hand trembled until he stopped thrashing, exhausted. "But until it falls, they're yours. Now let's get these cleaned up before your father gets back and sees the mess we've made."
Back into the box they go. One by one.
And as she closed the lid and walked away all he said was, "Mine."
The voices rose.
"It is an honor. He will be clan head, he will be great."
"He'll die. He's your son, don't you care?"
Another block on the pile. The voices fly back and forth.
"What does it matter, there's nothing we can do anyway, is there?"
Silence.
Footsteps echoed as one of the adults headed over to the small boy, shaking him slightly. "Put them away now. Your mother has something to tell you."
The boy cocked his head to one side, listening at tentatively, but not moving to knock down the blocks. Sighing, the woman reached over and clasped her hands around his smaller ones, taking it apart piece by piece, and putting it the box where they belonged.
"Honestly, they're yours, you should take better care of them," as she settled him closer to her body, letting him cuddle closer to her warmth. "You're a big boy now, aren't you?"
He nodded.
Her eyes closed, and she began to rock him back and forth. "You want to protect your family, don't you? Don't you want to protect your mama?" No response, but his hand wound it's way into her hair, tugging at the straggling strands. "No, no. Let go, you're hurting me." She forced his hand away.
The man approached.
"Aren't you going to tell him?"
She put down the boy and rose to her feet. "How can you tell a child something like that? Wait until he's older at least."
"How much older? He needs to savor what he can get. He has a responsibility."
The boy watched with interest.
"You explain it then." A moment of silence.
"Fine." He bent down to the little boy's level; not touching him but so close their noses almost bumped. "You are going to be a very important person, son. When you're older you will be the head of this family. Do you understand?" As he continued to get no response he shook the boy slightly, until he made a soft noise of distress. "I know you can talk, answer me."
The woman took a step forward but faltered, instead moving to put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Don't hurt him."
"I'm not hurting him. I'm teaching him respect." He shrugged off the restraining hand.
Softly the voice spoke up. "I understand."
With a pointed look at his wife, the man smiled with difficulty at the child. "Good boy."
Quickly, before he had the chance to continue the woman interrupted. "That's enough for today, he doesn't need to know the rest yet." She bent down to scoop the boy into her arms, lifting him easily.
As she walked across the room the man followed her, grasping her by the shoulder, turn her to face him. "If he understands his position he needs to understand the costs. How many years do you think he has?" The woman took a step back, horrified. The man continued advancing a pace. "Some live until twenty, some thirty. And some," sighs "not that long."
Her shoulders slumped. "Fine. I'll tell him. Leave us alone for a few minutes."
With a backward glance, he left.
Shaking her head, the woman settled the little boy back onto the ground, lifting the lid of the box where they'd carefully put the blocks away shortly before. "Let's play a little, yes? Mama will help you this time. Let's see what we can make!" There was a certain forced cheer around her mouth but if the child noticed it he had no reaction.
Removing one block from the box she put it in front of them. "That's the mouse. You remember the story about the mouse, don't you?" He reached for the block but she gently stopped him. "We're not done yet. Look," a she brought out another one, "it's the ox. The mouse rode on the ox to the great party." She put the first block on top of the second and galloped them around the floor, causing the boy to laugh, and then she put them back, next to each other.
And so it went for each of the twelve Jyuunishi, until there was a great pyramid of blocks. Finally she drew out the last block and stuck it on the very top, where it balanced precariously. "And on the very top is the most important and special one of all, yes?" He nodded, leaning closer to the pile of blocks until his face was level with its height.
"There you are, top of the pyramid. That's mama's boy." And for just a second her eyes were full of pride. But it faded as she sat there, watching the little boy and his pile of toys. "But futures made of blocks don't make for very sturdy lives. They're too small, and sometimes..." Her voice trailed off.
He turned to look at her.
"Sometimes they just...slip." And with a quick movement of fingers she knocked off the top block and watched it fall to the ground.
With a soft cry the boy hurriedly tried to replace it but the woman caught his hands in hers, trapping it where it was. His legs kicked out, tumbling the rest of the pyramid.
Her voice was steady, though her hand trembled until he stopped thrashing, exhausted. "But until it falls, they're yours. Now let's get these cleaned up before your father gets back and sees the mess we've made."
Back into the box they go. One by one.
And as she closed the lid and walked away all he said was, "Mine."