Chapter Text
reincarnation [noun] : the rebirth of a soul in a new body; a chance to begin again
There is a cat that lives behind a dumpster in a dark, dark alley. He doesn’t quite remember where he came from, but all he knows for sure are two things:
- He is hungry.
- It is cold.
For the past few mornings and the past few evenings, the cat has worked hard to scrounge together whatever he reasonably could, from tossed candy wrappers to half-eaten tuna to dry biscuit crumbs.
It isn’t enough, but he tries. Getting warm, however, is another matter entirely.
As he has learned the hard way, few are willing to open their doors (or windows, for that matter) to street cats like him. He is far too familiar with brooms and rolled up newspapers, has been called every scummy nickname under the sun. It’s so unfair , the cat often thinks to himself. This world is so unfair to me!
Sometimes, the cat dreams of a warm place, with plenty of food and light - such a fantastical place must only exist in his dreams, for he knows of no paradise. Somewhere soft to sleep, rather than rough cement; somewhere he will be embraced with all the kindness he secretly longs for.
I wish , croons the cat. If only, if only .
Tonight, the stars are in full view above him. It is a rare, cloudless night. The cat sits back on his haunches and looks up. He takes in the sight of the heavens with ardour, and gathers up his courage.
If I cannot be where you are , the cat asks the stars, then may you grant me a warm place, with plenty of food and light, with somewhere soft to sleep and a kind embrace ?
He does not expect an answer. He gets none.
The cat ceases to stare at the stars. He crawls beneath an old, rusting dumpster to nestle down. He closes his eyes, willing himself to rest.
Unbeknownst to the now slumbering cat, the stars blink once. Then, twice. At last, three times.
All will be well, little one .
*
The next morning brings rain.
It also brings a young man with a red coat and a frizzy ponytail.
“ Ah , what a nuisance !” this young man shouts.
As soon as the cat hears this thundering, baleful voice, he flinches and prepares to turn tail and run away (he ought to know by now that humans have only ever thought of him as a nuisance , and although he may not have the slightest clue what it means, it is always said with such scorn).
“This rain is such a nuisance!” the young man continues on.
Oh?
The cat stops. So the human wasn’t talking about him , after all.
What a surprising turn of events.
The cat’s heart does a little leap of terror, however, when the man’s eyes suddenly meet his own.
Now! Now he must run!
But the young man in red does not look angry, nor does he appear annoyed. Instead, the young man’s face is painted with a sheepish hue.
“Ah, did I disturb you, Mr. Cat?” says the man-in-the-red-coat. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect the rain to come down this hard - why, I didn’t even bring an umbrella! Look at us, both soaked to the bone! Hardly a good way to spend a Monday morning.”
This doesn’t bother me , the cat haughtily thinks. In fact, I’m used to this sort of thing .
He half expects the young man to leave him alone after that outburst, to be on his merry way and not look back, but what he doesn’t anticipate is for the young man to actually crouch down to his level in the middle of pouring rain. Weren’t you just complaining about the weather mere seconds ago? the cat wants to ask. Why aren’t you running to look for shelter?
“My name is Wei Ying,” the man introduces himself, all traces of his earlier frustration gone. It almost gives the cat whiplash. “Do you have a name?”
The cat looks away.
“A street cat, huh?” the young man - apparently named Wei Ying - queries.
Yeah, got a problem with that?! the cat angrily thinks.
Then, the man grins wide and snaps his fingers as if he’s had a divine revelation. “Well, today is your lucky day - “
I never have lucky days!
“ - because I, Wei Ying, am going to bestow upon you a shiny new name!”
What .
This has to be the most insane human he’s ever met.
“You’re like a cute little brother,” Wei Ying laughs, reaching out to give the cat a rough scratch behind his ears, blatantly ignoring the resulting mewls of protest. Then, his eyes widen, and he thumbs at his chin, looking thoughtful. “Hey, Little Brother might actually - wait, I can’t really name you that, now can I? I mean, unless you want me to.”
This human is quite stupid , thinks the cat. He gives a deliberate flick of his tail, and Wei Ying’s brow furrows.
“I see you’re not so fond of such a simple name after all. Are you sure? It saves so much trouble!”
The cat turns up his snout, wiggling his whiskers a bit. Scoundrel .
Wei Ying sighs. “Okay, okay, you win. Hm...maybe Wen Ning?”
The cat hisses in response.
“Eh, you don’t really look like a Wen Ning, anyway. Uh, how about Su She?”
The name sends a chill down the cat’s spine. He hisses again.
“Right, it kind of leaves a bad taste in the mouth for some reason. Admittedly, I’m not very good with names, you see…” Wei Ying huffs in frustration. “But you know, if you weren’t so picky, I’d surely have a suitable name for you right now.”
I highly doubt that .
Wei Ying visibly grapples with his brainstorming, seemingly unaware that he is now effectively, wholly drenched by the rain. The cat can’t help but recognize such foolishness.
What a strange person, a ridiculous human being...why put in so much effort for a mere street cat like me?
Wei Ying, of course, pays no mind to the cat’s turmoil. After another slew of terrible name ideas spurred on by rising levels of dissatisfaction (“ Whatever? ” Who on Earth would name a cat that ?), he takes one last look at the cat - a long, long look. “Hm…”
Slowly, Wei Ying’s voice comes out, unsteady and soft, but with a peculiar air of familiarity that the cat can’t really seem to put his paw on. “Jiang...Cheng?”
Huh. How about that.
The cat turns the name over and over again in his head. Jiang Cheng . Jiang Cheng . Jiang Cheng .
He finds that it doesn’t bother him as much as the previous ones. The cat may even go so far as to believe that it feels right , somehow.
Yes. He can be a cat named Jiang Cheng, he supposes.
Wei Ying smiles when the name meets no resistance. “Taking a shine to it? I’m glad.”
Maybe you are good for something , thinks the cat - thinks Jiang Cheng .
A distinct thrill races through him now that he has a proper name. Not “street cat,” not “nuisance,” not “vermin,” not “pest.”
It feels...good. It feels nice. He likes this feeling.
All of a sudden, Jiang Cheng finds himself swathed in red wool.
What...what is this?
Before his panic can reach greater heights, his paws leave the ground, and he realizes he is being lifted up.
By Wei Ying.
“Now I have an excuse,” says Wei Ying. His voice is gentle, relieved. “Though I’m not sure if you have any emotional attachment at all to this grimy alley, I know for a fact that you must hate having to live like this, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Jiang Cheng wants desperately to shout, what is this?
Why are you being so kind?
“I’ve given you a name,” Wei Ying says. “I want to give you many more things, like food and shelter. Is that okay with you?”
Wei Ying’s eyes are sparkling with life and clemency. Jiang Cheng wonders, is this all right ?
And yet, he finds that he has unconsciously curled up closer into Wei Ying’s hold, even tentatively placing his head on the human’s shoulder.
He realizes now that Wei Ying has wrapped him up snugly in that red coat of his.
“The wool is definitely a bit wet,” frets Wei Ying. “I’m sorry about that - in retrospect, I should’ve worn a raincoat instead of this.”
No , thinks Jiang Cheng. Not at all .
It feels warm.
“I’m going to take you home, if that’s alright with you.”
Yes. It is.
Jiang Cheng purrs. Wei Ying pets the cat’s head, amused. “Good to know.”
A warm place. Food and light. Somewhere soft to sleep. The kindest embrace he’s ever known.
The rain stops.