Aneko: Alright, this one goes out to the Baron, who is, as Haru puts it, "So cool."
Disclaimer: I'm not anywhere near enough of a genius to think up a great story like that. I don't own The Cat Returns.
And He Lives
It wasn't a perfect existence that he had, sitting in a window and watching until someone needed help, but it suited him. He never had any reason not to mind it. He got by well enough. And Muta and Toto keep him company.
But there are times when their company cannot comfort, and the loneliness creeps in. He sits there, watching person after person come and go, year in, year out. He cannot count the number of faces he's seen, and he doesn't want to. It would remind him too much of his own never-aging body.
He can't help but think, at times, that one day, Muta won't be there anymore, but he and Toto still will be. No matter how disagreeable the big cat is, he is still a friend. These thoughts usually make him try to stay away from attachments. If he doesn't, he will only hurt more every time. But, he supposes, he might get used to it eventually.
And part of him wants an attachment of some sort, to the living world. Just so that he knows that his existence is remembered. When all you have are the memories of those who have passed, it is hard not to be melancholy. Muta always teases him about this—his pensive attitude—but in his rough way, he's just trying to take care of his friend. The friend who can help others, but is unable to help himself.
So he stands in his window, waiting for stray passersby who need his help.
And he lives.