They tried not to gawk, but they were a little surprised to see Wu-Ming actually dining with her.
"Maybe he's coming out of his shell," Hun-Hun remarked.
Ying-Hua looked up at her. "He's part-tortoise?"
"Seems slimy enough to me," Sagwa muttered.
Then a delightfully young voice broke the air. "Nai-Nai! Yeh-Yeh!"
All eyes went to the gate, where a feline-shaped shadow extended into the alley. Sheegwa was hot on her relatives' furry heels, feeling like the biggest hypocrite as she pursued them to her daughter's lingering shadow. Song's eyes roved quickly to her familiar face. "Mama? I thought you were with Baba," she chirped, and then slid her face through the bars, searching for him. "Is he here, too? Can I see him?"
"He's not here, Song."
"Well...I know Fan is missing... Are they together?"
Sheegwa looked awkwardly at her family, all of whom seemed uncertain if they were included in the family moment. "I hope so," she lied―she didn't really know what she wanted. Not anymore.
"You left him?"
"It's complicated, Song..."
"What's that?" the young one asked, raising a paw past the bars to demonstrate. Sagwa had to quell the urge to grab it and pull her through the gate.
"It's...nothing, it's cold outside. How's your new life?"
"Good. I love it here! It's so pretty. And the cats are teaching me caphillagry like Aunt Sagwa said she would," Song rambled youthfully, as Baba quietly excused himself. He walked over to where Wu-Ming sat, forgotten. At the stranger's unexpected approach, Wu-Ming eyed him nervously, paws twitching like he wanted to take off. Even still, he looked menacing in the dying daylight. His thinning chest fur and his scars lent him a dangerous appearance that Baba didn't know would heal. And he realized he had gone through more than he previously assumed; Wu-Ming had a hole at the top of his left ear, mostly obscured by his fur.
Baba looked down at his nervous paws as he sat down on the cold alleyway ground. "Son, I know you feel like an extra toe, but I would appreciate your help with something."
"What?"
The seemingly willing response was an uninviting growl. Not even the alleycats were this prickly; Jet-Jet had wanted to be won over. Baba knew he had to tread carefully. "Well, I know you found her in that storm, and I'd very much like to know what happened. But she pushed us away, my Shao-Fun and me."
"I know."
Baba nodded, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with the cat of unknown intent. "Well, I was hoping you might enlighten me."
"Didn't want me to know, either."
Luckily that answer was satisfactory enough. Baba nodded in disappointed acceptance and left him in peace. By the time he returned to the gate, and looked over his shoulder, Wu-Ming had returned to the wall, perfectly content to turn his back on the cats with whom he lived.
"It's a little tricky," Song was saying, "But I'm getting the hang of it. And did you know? They're so much friendlier than the dowdy ager. I got ink everywhere tonight during practice! And they thought it was funny."
"Yeah. We knew."
"Really? Then why did you run away?" Song asked, and tilted her head, making her ear flop adorably. "Hmm. Maybe that's just what we do in this family."
Sheegwa's heart ached at the comment. "No. We didn't run away," she said hastily. "We were kicked out."
"Wow. What did you do?"
Sheegwa sighed, looking at her daughter's beloved face. "Nothing. He kicked us out because we weren't young anymore."
"I...I thought you found Baba when you were a kitten."
"No, it's...okay. He wanted my grandparents replaced. And we were a package deal."
"Oh."
"We thought he loved us. But he didn't. Don't get too attached to that place."
"He won't send me away! He loves me!"
As Sheegwa tried to pass on some last-minute wisdom to her free-spirited offspring, Sagwa pulled her mother aside. And found herself repeating a question of a time long passed. "Mama, do you see what I see?"
"What, Sagwa?"
"She's getting her markings."
Mama observed her granddaughter, and inexplicably felt two emotions collide―relief, that Song was beginning to show signs of maturity; and absolute, irrevocable fear.
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Of course."
But the joy on Song's face was a pretense, and she hastily dropped it. "So you won't be looking for Fan again," she deduced. "Don't you love him anymore?"
"Of course, I―"
"Mama, you have to look for him. You have to! You can't give up. They didn't," Song pointed to her lingering ancestors. "And look, I got to meet a family I never would have known existed. Doesn't that matter?"
"Yes, it absolutely..."
"Well, if it didn't matter to you, and it didn't matter to Baba, and it didn't matter to them―I mean, where would I even be right now?"
"I-I don't...know," Sheegwa stuttered, unaccustomed to her daughter's behavior.
"Well, I wouldn't be here!" Song blurted, and tried to keep composed. She sighed, raising her sapphire eyes to her mother's pale blue. "He's your son. Aren't we a package deal, too?"
"You have...no reason to worry," Sheegwa found herself saying, perhaps against her own desires. "We will never stop looking."
Up on his vantage point, Wu-Ming looked down, intrigued by her hypocritical statements.
"Good. Next time I see you, he better be here!"
Sheegwa blinked in surprise, watching as her tiny little daughter picked up the end of her long, flowing collar between her small teeth and ran awkwardly towards the palace.
