That sunset, Song came to the gate where her family waited; with the single exception of Sagwa, who hadn't been seen since. She looked different already, bearing a collar with a fancy, thin white swirl decorating a purple field. Her natural grace seemed to be coming in handy.
She was still approaching the gate when the interrogation and the demands ensued.
"Are you crazy?"
"Take that thing off and get over here!"
Song stopped several paces from the gate. And sat down in the grass, watching as Siao-Po attempted to crawl through the gate to get to her. But his shoulders were too wide to fit through. He backed out and issued a command. "Fan, go get your sister."
Sheegwa pushed Fan backwards with a gentle paw, and was awarded Siao-Po's fury. She explained quietly, though she too was clearly displeased with current events. "The oldest cat they kicked out was a grandfather. If we send in both kittens, we'll die before we get our family together again."
Siao-Po looked wildly at Song. "Is that what you want?"
"No. But I don't want to live in a disgusting alley, eating something that's trying to talk to me."
"This isn't your call."
"I want you to join me. You don't need to be caphillagers."
The commotion of a cardboard box giving way startled the cats, who looked to their right. Mama stood on one box and was arranging more; stacking them close to the wall.
"Smart," Wing-Wing said, "What's the escape plan?"
"The sky parlor," came the no-nonsense reply.
"I'll come back, Nai-Nai," Song called. "The humans want me here."
"They don't need you."
"You haven't been here in a year. With all due respect, how can you know what they need?"
Mama halted on the wall.
Song stood up and walked closer, trying to prepare herself for the worst part of childhood; trying to influence the adults. "I've always lived outside. Day to day, all I ever did was eat and sleep. Now I can do more. I can do what you used to. Don't you think that's kind of cool?"
Sheegwa seemed to hedge, so Song pushed her luck. "I can amount to something. I saw your paintings in the tree house and I want to do that! I want to be important."
"I do not want to lose you!" Siao-Po roared.
"But Baba, I'm not lost. I'm right here and I can see you every night." Finally stepping up to the gate, she hung back, looking imploringly at her parents. "Back at camp, it was cold and lonely. And this is the only palace you said worked out. I want something to work out, and if you can't give me that, then...I'm begging you to let me stay!"
Stunned, Sheegwa stared at her.
"I want something better for myself," Song said desperately.
Sheegwa lifted her eyes to the beautiful palace that was home to the best days of her life. Tears blurred her view as she realized that the best days of Song's life were beyond her reach.
"So do I." Her voice was stone and she blinked away her tears, feeling the crushing weight always present finally recede as she told her daughter something personal, for the very first time.
The glow of the pastel pink sunset was fading, casting Song into darkness. "I'll be here every sunset."
"You better be. Or it will cost you so dearly, nothing in that whole place could pay for it."
Song nodded in acknowledgment, grinning from ear to ear. As the last of the light faded away, she turned and ran gleefully to her new home. Sheegwa closed her eyes on the hot sting of tears, listening to her mother leap down onto the cardboard.
"What were you thinking?" Siao-Po asked her.
"I was thinking...she's never been happy before."
From his place on the alley floor, Fan watched the crowd disperse. He could still remember the feeling of his mother, pushing into his chest. He could still feel his auntie, dragging him by the tail. And as he lay down and closed his eyes, he felt a hot surge of anger billowing from inside his chest; and he thought to himself, If she can be happy, why can't I?
In the village, however, there were still some loose ends. Sagwa meandered through, kicking flower baskets over and knocking plates and vases off of a table. Hearing the commotion, Fu-Fu landed, attaching himself to a tree to watch from safety. "Uh," his voice made her look up. "Is it passive-aggressive New Year's Cleanup already? Strange, how time flies. You'd think just once, I'd run into it!"
His only response was a grunt as she kicked another basket, sending it into a door a good distance away.
"Sagwa!" he exclaimed. "I'm sure somebody put hard work into those."
She turned to face him, narrow eyes glowing in the dark. "As hard as walking for a year?" she asked, and gave her silent friend a waiting look. "I didn't think so."
"Even still, they were probably put there in memory of the Dowager."
Suddenly the sullen Magistrate's dark robes and foul mood made sense. She freed her paw from the wicker handle of her next victim. "Well, maybe this will help that bloated old fool understand loss!"
"Maybe, but you can't tell me it'll help him understand cats. Want to tell me why you're destroying an imperial monument?"
She sighed, trying to quell the urge to continue destroying. "Sheegwa has kittens. And they're constantly getting in trouble. Her son was thrown in a river, and I saved him. Her daughter was taken and I tried to take her back—I tried, but I couldn't—and now Sheegwa's furious with me. And I was just trying to help!" Her shrill voice ended abruptly and she walked a few paces away, trying to regulate her breathing. "She didn't thank me, she didn't ask if I was okay, she just...shut me out when she was a kitten, and she's not letting me back in."
"Well, what did she say?"
"She told me to get lost! After I saved his life, she told me to get lost." Her voice ended roughly and she stared up at the moon. "What do I have to do?"
Her voice hitched. Unaccustomed to seeing her cry, Fu-Fu was bitterly glad he was nearly blind. "I think you've done enough."
She sat there a moment longer, bathed in silver light. "You're right. I think I've more than made up for what happened!"
"Actually, I was talking about the memorial. But I'll go talk to her if you want."
"No." She stood up and turned back to the alley, eyes narrow and tail twitching. "I'll do it myself."
She broke into a run, listening to her breaths and the gravel crunching under her paws as she retraced her steps. She clambered noisily through the gate, banging multiple paws on its ornate design and drawing attention to herself. "Sheegwa!" she yelled, and at once everyone had turned on her; glaring at her as a shush filled the alley. But she was too irritated to listen, and being told to be quiet only agitated her further. She continued walking, ignoring their request. "You had no right! Not after what I did. You have no idea what I did!"
"Way to go, Sagwa," Dongwa complained, as his sleepy daughters raised their heads. "You woke up the entire house."
Sagwa rolled her eyes at the term. What kind of house had two walls and no roof?
Sheegwa approached her, staring in displeasure. "Let's talk in private."
The sisters climbed through the gate and wandered into the village, and twelve pairs of eyes watched them go.
"So what did you do?"
"I'll tell you what I didn't do; I didn't just stand there. I don't know, Sheegwa, maybe I just love them more. Those kids were counting on you. It's a good thing you found Siao-Po, because you're useless!"
"Excuse me?"
"No, I will not. For your information, the water was freezing cold. I could have died myself, you know. And the least you could do is ask for the details. But no, you just stand there, not caring about anybody."
"Well, it's a lot harder than you think."
Sagwa stopped, causing Sheegwa to stop. Finally Sagwa found her voice. "That's your answer. You're not even going to tell me you care. You're not going to tell me I'm wrong."
Sheegwa raised her head, but wouldn't meet Sagwa's eyes. "It doesn't hurt as much."
"Well, it hurts me!"
"And that's the benefit of not caring. You should aspire to be more like me."
Sagwa scoffed humorlessly and stepped closer. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself. You—you care, I know you do. I can see it."
Sheegwa looked at her. "Just don't interfere. They need to learn how to count on themselves."
"Well, it didn't work out too well for you, did it?" Sagwa asked, and watched the short-lived flash of anger in her eyes before she regained her façade. "Imagine...that you're standing on a rock, with a waterfall right in front of you. Water is rushing by so fast, you feel like you're speeding backwards. You don't know how deep the rock is buried, you don't know if you'll go tumbling headfirst. To a place you can't even see. And you want to come to terms with it, but—you're just a kitten. Your family's watching and you have so much to tell them, but you know they won't hear a word you say. Now," she moved closer and Sheegwa's eyes shot to hers, "Without looking away, you stand there and tell me you would be grateful, if your family chose to not interfere."
Sheegwa's tears spilled over and she broke eye contact.
Sagwa withdrew. "You don't need to thank me for saving their lives. But when danger comes, don't you dare tell me to sit back and watch. You're not numb," she ranted. "You're just a liar and a coward. You're lucky I'm not. The only reason you didn't die is because you weren't alone. Siao-Po saved you, the pack saved you, I saved you... The only one you can't count on is yourself. And there's...there's no excuse for that. You're pathetic. You may as well leave them with him."
Sheegwa stood motionless, allowing her sister to get the horrible, hurtful truth off her chest.
"You know, he may have gotten you off that rock," Sagwa said, "But you're still stranded. And I-I don't know if there's still a way back for you."
She turned and ran towards the alley. Sheegwa hung her head, crushed by failure and hate.
