Chapter Text
Home On The Footplate - A Story From The Empire Of Light
“Jie Jie?”
Liang looked up; across from her, spending one of what was now far too many afternoons to count in the warmth of her little flat, Wen was nestled back into the couch cushions. Her eyes had turned away from the board game stretched out between them, up towards the young woman she now considered her older sister, just a hint of apprehension in the brown. So Liang let out a gentle “yeah?”
“When are your days off?” the girl asked, head tilted to one side. Liang smiled.
“Shouldn’t you already know that, Little Caterpillar?” she teased. Wen pouted in reply, cheeks flushed and arms briskly folded.
“No,” she rebuffed. “I just know that sometimes you’re here, and sometimes you’re busy.” Her expression softened just a little, back to something close to confusion. “You always tell me when it’s okay to come over, and so does everyone else. The rota’s a you thing.”
Liang couldn’t help a little snort at that, at how much it made sense in a very Wen sort of way. So she settled back to the smile, and replied softly.
“Huh, well, I got lucky,” she explained with a wave of one hand. “I have San-day off, and then the Family Days, like today.”
Wen only blinked. “The Family Days?” She leaned forwards, little hands grasping at the edge of her seat, confusion writ-large. “What are those?”
Something inside Liang prickled a little at that, old instincts worrying; there were still so many things, little, inconsequential things, that Wen just downright didn’t know about the world. But she was also still small, still learning, and didn’t take in information the way Liang did. So the young woman chose not to let it matter, and went on warmly instead.
“It’s what we call Liu-day and Qi-day,” she explained, leaning forwards; Wen did so too, wobbling on the edge of her cushion. “Most people work four days a week; that’s what grown-ups like me mean when we say ‘full-time’.”
“Tuduo says he’s busy every day,” Wen cut in, flopping over onto her side. Liang couldn’t help a fond sigh.
“I don’t think he knows what work is, Mei Mei,” she jabbed softly. Wen kept moving, rolling onto her back with her head leaned up so, upside-down, she could still meet her sister’s gaze with interest; her hands reached out, grabbing a cushion and holding it to her chest. “But it’s true; people can choose to do overtime, and work more days, and some people are self-employed. Some people work only part-time, too…”
Liang couldn’t help herself, then, as a small chuckle slipped out. “Are you going to stay like that?”
Wen gave a noncommittal shrug, as if lying on her back and listening upside-down was the most normal thing in the world. So the young woman gave one in return, deciding to let her sister be herself, and went on. “But four is the default. That way, everyone gets enough time to rest. But, we still need services; imagine if the trains just stopped running three days a week?”
“That would be bad, right?” Wen asked, squeezing her borrowed cushion.
“Mhmm.” Liang nodded gently. “So what we do is make sure that not everyone gets the same three days; when you start a job or an apprenticeship, you get assigned which days you work and which you don’t.”
“You don’t get to choose?” Wen burst out, almost indignant. Liang had to suppress another chuckle, shaking her head.
“Small companies do sometimes,” she explained. “And if you really want to, you can ask to change it. But it’s important we keep it fair to everyone; that’s why we have the Family Days.”
“Mhmm?”
“Most kids go to school for five days, from Yi to Wu-day.” Wen pouted at that, and squeezed her pillow again. That time, Liang did gently scoff. “So when days off get allocated, people with kids get priority for Liu and Qi-day. It means they’ll always get to spend time with their family.”
“Huh,” Wen murmured, eyes wide with interest; her hair, loose, spilled down around her top-knot to tickle the front of the sofa. “So why do you get them off? You don’t have any kids.”
“I have you, Little Caterpillar,” Liang teased. In response that got her another pout, and Wen squeezing her pillow again.
“You know what I mean,” the girl pushed, brow furrowing. “The Empire doesn’t know about me, and I don’t go to school, so how’d they know to let you have those days off?”
Realising, quietly, that she’d probably stepped on that old worry, Liang let her expression soften. “It’s not because of you,” she promised gently, settling forwards again. “I’ve told some of my co-workers about having a sister, but they just think you live back in Tienjing with the rest of my family.”
The relief in Wen’s eyes was unmistakable, and Liang’s own heart settled at the sight. “You don’t have to have kids to get the Family Days off, it’s just a priority, but in my case, it’s ‘cause the head of our section is a mom. Since she’s in charge of all our apprenticeships, we have the same days off as her, and the other sections cover those days for us; with the shift system, there’s always someone making sure the messages get sent, and I get time to spend with you.”
“That’s good,” Wen noted. Then with a soft grunt she rolled back over, swinging up into a sitting position once again; the pillow, now crumpled, still firmly between her arms. Liang smiled again, settling back herself.
“So, does that answer your question?” she pushed gently. Wen gave a murmur, only to freeze, eyes suddenly wide.
“Wait! I almost forgot!” She scrambled forwards. Her hands planted on the table; the board game pieces jumped, scattered as if in fear. “You’re free on San-day, right?”
“Yeah,” Liang’s breathed. “Like I said.”
At that, Wen’s eyes went wider still, and she sucked in a gasp of excited air. “That means you can come with us!” She declared, making the table jump again.
“…come with who?” Liang blinked.
“With me!” Wen declared, standing back and drawing herself up. “Yolanda’s taking me and Anya to see her work this San-day! So you can come too!”
Something prickled in Liang’s chest at that, something quiet, something traitorous, something more than just sisterly concern. Because her first instincts said that that was too soon, that she needed longer to plan for something like this, that she didn’t even know where Yolanda worked and that meant a whole new load of unknowns to consider.
“Is… is that not good?” Wen’s little voice, suddenly awkward, pulled Liang back from those thoughts. She blinked, and let a soft sigh escape; she could couch those concerns in more reasonable ones.
“Have you asked Yolanda about this, Mei Mei?” she began; Wen squirmed a little at that, putting her chin to her chest and pouting. “I think it’s up to her.”
“Well, not yet,” she admitted, hands reaching down to play with the hem of her frog-print tunic. “But if she says yes, you’ll come, right?” She looked up again, slowly, eyes wide and pleading, and looking at them, Liang felt a little bad.
Could she really blame her sister for being excited? And could she really turn down that hope? Maybe it was soon, and Yolanda would probably say no anyway, but every step Liang had taken so far towards the people of her home tower-block had been a good one. Maybe, despite her inherent worries, this could be too?
“Okay, Little Caterpillar,” she breathed. “If Yolanda says yes, then I’ll come.”