A nameless boy crouched in the shadow of a narrow alley, knees pulled to his chest. The faint smell of soy and grilled fish drifted from the bustling market streets beyond, but none of it belonged to him. His stomach groaned like a beast; he pressed a hand against it, as if that would silence the pain.
The evening air carried laughter—merchants closing their stalls, children calling to each other. He didn't belong to any of it. His kimono was nothing but rags, his hair unkempt, his face smudged with dust. People passed the alley without so much as a glance.
Then he heard it.
"…the City Lord's temple is giving offerings tonight," a man's voice said nearby.
"Only for those invited," another replied, chuckling. "But you've seen the food there? Fresh rice, miso, sake! Enough to feed a village."
The boy's head lifted. His lips were cracked, but a faint spark lit his dull eyes. Food. Real food. If he could sneak in, maybe he wouldn't have to spend another night with his ribs aching.
By the time night settled, lanterns glowed along the temple path. The boy approached cautiously, sticking to the edges where the shadows were thickest. The City Lord's guards stood near the entrance, spears in hand, their armor gleaming under the lantern light. Beyond them, the smell of warm rice and roasted fish teased his senses until his hunger drove him forward.
He didn't make it far.
"Oi, what's this rat doing here?" one guard barked, grabbing him by the collar.
"I-I… I just…" His words faltered. His empty stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.
The boy lowered his head, trembling, and whispered, "F-food… please…"
A guard sneered. "Filthy rat. Think you can eat with nobles?"
"I—I just… one piece…"
The spear-butt struck his ribs. He collapsed with a cry. Laughter followed. Another kick drove him rolling down the steps. "Starve in the gutter where you belong," one spat.
The temple bells rang while incense filled the air. Inside, nobles feasted; outside, a child bled and no one cared.
The boy sat curled beneath a crumbling eave, knees drawn to his chest, watching as shadows stretched across the narrow alley. He hadn't eaten in three days. His lips were cracked, his stomach ached like a hollow drum, and his thoughts blurred into the same question over and over:
Why do they eat, while I starve?
Beyond the alley, the market thrived. Laughter rose with the clinking of coins; merchants shouted prices for steaming dumplings, pickled radishes, and bowls of rice gleaming white as snow. The boy licked his lips but dared not move closer. He had tried once before. The beating he received still burned in his memory.
As the sun dipped lower, the market began to close. Smells of food faded into the cold night air. The boy's head drooped, his eyelids heavy. Perhaps, if he slept, the hunger would hurt less.
Footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestones.
He cracked one eye open. A man in faded robes walked by, his head shaved clean, a staff clicking with each step. A monk. The boy had seen monks before—some chanted for alms, others begged for rice. But this one's eyes lingered on him, and he slowed his pace.
"You look as though the wind itself might carry you away," the monk said gently.
The boy said nothing. He had learned silence was safer.
The monk crouched and opened a small cloth pouch. From it, he drew a rice ball wrapped in a withered leaf and held it out. "Eat."
The boy's eyes widened. His hands trembled as he reached out, half expecting the man to snatch it back or strike him. But the monk only smiled.
He devoured the rice ball in two bites, tears stinging his eyes. It was the first warm thing in his belly in days.
"What is your name, child?" asked the monk.
The boy shook his head. "No name."
"Then," the monk said, rising, "come with me. If the world has forgotten you, I will not. You shall walk the path of the Way, if you are willing."
The boy hesitated. He had never been offered anything without a price. But the monk's hand was steady, his voice free of malice.
And so, barefoot and trembling, the boy took that hand.
That night, under the pale glow of the moon, his life began anew...