Chapter Text
"Since when did you have children ?!"
"Since-" Macaque broke off, face scrunching in a painful grimace even with his teeth bared. His voice didn't sound right- raspy and lower than normal. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Ugh, did you really have to yell at me first thing?"
"Be quiet," the orange-eyed cub whispered, staring with wide, curious eyes between Macaque and Wukong.
"Right, sorry," Wukong apologized to the kid on reflex, lowering his voice as he watched Macaque uncharacteristically rub his face, ears twitching multiple times in a way that Wukong knew meant his ears were hurting. Everything about Macaque was very uncharacteristic right now. Wukong couldn't fully grasp that what was happening in front of him was real.
Sure, they'd worked together to defeat Lady Bone Demon. But the guy was the bane of Wukong's existence for the past some-hundred years, and now he just showed up with children ?! Children who looked, at the very, very minimum, more than a year old?
The odd, cold aura of magic in the air wasn't helping soothe his worries either. It made him feel on edge.
'Is this some sort of insane, twisted trap?' he thought, trying to puzzle it out in his head. 'Luring me in faking sickness and also faking HAVING LITERAL CHILDREN?' No, that seemed too absurd, even for Macaque.
Macaque, though he loved underhanded, dirty tactics, also wouldn't sink low enough to pretend to look so sickly. The blow to his pride would be too much.
"Still gonna need you to answer the question, though," Wukong finished, crossing his arms and staring down at his black-furred double.
Macaque glared back up at him. "At least give me, like, a fu- friggin' glass of water or something before you interrogate me. I'm a guest; you're supposed to be hospitable."
"Uh, you are not a guest," Wukong snarked back, tail lashing. 'Does he think he can just walk in here and act like he owns the place? How infuriating!' "You crashed on my couch, reeking your stench everywhere, and now you won’t even answer questions to which I am sure the answers will only bring more questions!”
“Then why even ask?!” Macaque snapped, ears pressed tightly to the sides of his head as his lips curled back, white fangs shining in the dim houselight. The sickly bags underneath his eyes contradicted much with the ferocity. His black tail thumped heavily behind his body, and Wukong realized faintly that, despite the growing aggression, Macaque had still not attempted to rise from his spot, half-laying, on the couch.
“Because you have TWO CHILDREN,” Wukong repeated the earlier fact, gesturing wildly towards the two bewildered monkey kids (neither of whom were Wukong’s successor), “and you never TOLD ME?!” The idea that- if this was not some elaborate trap- that Macaque had hidden cubs from Wukong for years hurt Wukong just as much as the thought that a Flower Fruit Mountain monkey mother would have hidden cubs from him.
Macaque’s face twisted and ears twitched in pain, and Wukong felt a shred of guilt, before Macaque growled out in a fierce rumble, “Why would I ever tell you?”
Wukong’s mouth snapped shut just as quick as it opened, the “Because” dying on his lips before he could say it aloud. A tight, emotional feeling clenched at his chest and ribs, and it only angered Wukong further that he couldn’t completely understand the reason besides the fact he knew he would have wanted Macaque to tell him. Because they were friends was too flimsy a reason, if only because of the hard were, and Wukong knew that, so what because did he have?
“Because you’ve decided to break into my house!” Wukong shot back after a conflicted pause. “ With said children!”
Now it was Macaque’s turn to huff, tail thumping angrily again, and one of the kids’ attention seemed briefly caught on its movement, looking like they might pounce, before their eyes turned warily back to Wukong. The two monkey siblings had pressed against each other, black fur blurring against each other and almost making them look like one collective blob. They stared up at Wukong with wide, slightly scared eyes that made him wilt again despite his frustration at Macaque.
“They’re not,” Macaque began, then hesitated, nose scrunching, glancing at the two kids then back at Wukong. “They’re not… mine .” He frowned, then winced, a hand rising to press against one side of his head. A dark spike of magic energy made Wukong bristle instinctively, though he saw no move to attack from the other demon. Only thrilling spikes of dangerous magic that echoed through the air thickly.
“Uh, they’re not yours? ” Wukong said disbelievingly, staring incredulously between Macaque and the two kids. He now felt foolish earlier, for only having the briefest of suspects that they had any relation to Macaque. It was quite obvious, in hindsight. Their shades of black and red were much darker, but they were still very much black and red. They were a lot fluffier, though, hair curling and puffing out in all directions, and even giving them a lion’s look with a tufted tail and mane, but that could very well just be their baby fur, there to keep them warm. “Then whose kids did you kidnap? ”
He placed a hand on his hip, cocking it and tilted his head as he glared down at the black-furred warrior. A low growl escaped Macaque’s throat in response, but then the growl became a weird, gurgly noise, and he abruptly broke off into a cough, body curling, tail stiff. Wukong frowned, after a moment, when Macaque did not immediately bounce back, or at the least pretend to be not-as-sick-as-he-was to snark back at him as usual.
The dark magic in the air spiked again, sending a shiver down Wukong’s spine as he almost felt like something slick and slimy was wriggling under his skin. He pressed a hand to his chest, keeping himself from getting lost to the sickly feeling. The darkness of it reminded him too much of Lady Bone Demon, not because this ill-afflicted aura was like her magic- like the sheering cold of the blue-eyed baby’s ice spikes- but because the dark magic had come too soon after LBD’s attacks and possession, and Wukong could not help but be on high alert. On another day, he might not be as affected by the darkness laying heavy in the air. After all, it always followed Macaque around, though not as… suffocatingly… as now.
“Baba,” came a worried whisper from the orange-eyed monkey as she stepped forward towards Macaque, a hand outstretched, eyes wide with unconcealed concern.
Guilt and sympathy clawed at Wukong’s chest at the little one’s sad look. Why was he standing here yelling at Macaque when he knew the monkey was sick and clearly in some kind of distress or danger? He hated Macaque, but he couldn’t take that out on the babies. His tail waved behind him in brief, stubborn indecision at his lingering hatred of Macaque ( ‘don’t help him; it’s all an illusion’ ), before he turned around and set off towards his kitchen, not too far away from the room Macaque had decided to crash in.
Getting a glass of water was easy enough. But he nibbled his lip as he tried to think of what else the sick money might require that he could easily grab without leaving him unsupervised for too long. (Sick he might be, but trust him Wukong did not. A sick Macaque could still cause trouble.)
To be honest… Wukong didn’t really have anything for sickness, not that he even knew what he would need anyway. He was sure Macaque didn’t have a mortal illness, though he supposed he didn’t know the exact details of Macaque’s immortality (just the parts that Wukong himself knew he caused), so perhaps the shadow demon was still afflicted by mortal diseases. Still, that didn’t mean anything, because Wukong had nothing to treat him with.
Painkillers? Wukong didn’t really need those either, though lately it had been pretty rough on the pain scale, Lady Bone Demon and all (and also Nezha could pack a punch, ouch). Plus he wasn’t the kind of monkey willing to take pain relievers without a stab to his pride as the strongest monkey ever.
Obscure and ancient magical artifacts that had been left scattered in his treasury? Yeah, better not to touch those and risk turning Macaque into an elephant, or something. (Though he knew he had to have a few objects of healing or curing somewhere in his treasury… maybe he really should organize his prizes.)
So, Wukong settled on a glass of water, a handful of fruit from his garden (that, he knew, safely had calming properties to them), and a random bottle of some kind of medication that had been left in his cabinet. Something something headache reliever? Definitely seemed like Macaque had a headache. So what if it was… a hundred years expired? Couldn’t get any worse than he already was.
He returned back to the spare living room Macaque had chosen as his dying room (the joke both made Wukong amused and left a bitter taste in his mouth). He golden eyed the area warily, checking for traps, but, to his utter surprise, Macaque was in the same position as before. Hunched on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed tightly, teeth slightly bared in a frown, and stiff tail tip twitching occasionally. Magic slithered and groaned around him, greedy and sick and nasty. Unpleasant all around. It made Wukong want to gag and get the taste of sick magic out of him.
(Sometimes sick magic was fun and chaotic, though often physically draining. This was not that kind of sick magic.)
The cubs had crawled onto the couch beside their “not” parent in Wukong’s absence, their paws and tails touching him but still trying to keep their distance. Small chirps and croons left their mouths, clearly indicating worry and comfort equally, but their noises weren’t exactly how the chirps were supposed to sound, and it made Wukong frown. They sounded awkward and unpracticed, like the babies didn’t chirp often. Which struck him as odd; they were old enough to speak and attack, but not to chirp, when it was the most basic instinct of a baby monkey?
‘Something ain’t right with your not-kids, Macaque,’ Wukong thought. ‘Course, is there any surprise there?’ Macaque definitely never struck him as parent material. Not a loving bone in that cursed and vengeful body. ‘It’s all shadows and misery.’
“Hey,” Wukong said loudly when Macaque did not react to his approach. Macaque’s ears twitched and flared in response, the pained scowl on his face growing into a pained sneer instead. The cubs sent Wukong equal glares. “I got you the water you demanded, squatter.”
Macaque did not react for a moment, thoroughly worrying Wukong although he would never admit to it (because Macaque was the least deserving monkey of his worry). But then he groggily opened his eyes, glaring at the glass of water Wukong held in one hand, not bothering to even glance at the pill bottle in his other hand or the fruit curled in his tail.
“Poisoned?” Macaque questioned, voice croaking a bit.
“Poi- oh, for the love of Buddha, you asked for the water! Why would I poison it!” He threw his arms up slightly, aborting the full motion of the movement because some of the water sloshed and flew out, wetting the side of his arm ( annoying . Much like another monkey Wukong could name). “You’re lucky I didn’t even spit in it.”
Macaque narrowed his eyes at him, but didn’t say anything. The lack of a response made Wukong uneasy, his tail lashing behind him, which was hard to do when it was also holding a bunch of fruits. He huffed angrily before slamming the glass of water down on the couch directly in front of the shadow demon, along with the bottle of medicine. Macaque seemed to finally notice the medicine, eyes turning warily to it instead.
“ Medicine ,” Wukong said in a condescending voice, like he had to spell it out for a child. “Take it and stop being so miserable so I can yell at you properly.”
Macaque snorted, but finally grabbed the water. He uncapped the medicine and proceeded to pour the entire bottle of pills into the water, making Wukong raise an eyebrow. He was worried about Wukong poisoning him with the water but didn’t even bother to read the labels on the medicine to see if it was, y’know, not expired?
As Macaque downed the glass of water swiftly, Wukong splayed the fruits onto the table in front of the couch. The baby monkeys jumped slightly, scrambling to the other side of the couch when Wukong’s action brought him closer to them. They eyed the fruit, the orange-eyed monkey leaning forward with her nose twitching interestedly.
“You know, a thank you would be nice,” Wukong said. “For oh so graciously offering my food to the guy who broke into my house.”
“Your voice is annoying,” Macaque replied, voice dripping both from sickness and sarcasm as he reached for a fruit.
“Your face is annoying!” Wukong snapped back. Gods, would it kill him to just say one nice thing? Truly, Wukong couldn’t stand this guy.
Thankfully, his attention was averted from the absolutely ungrateful, infuriating shadow monkey as he saw the orange-eyed cub nudge herself forward, nostrils flaring cutely as she sniffed the air, obviously enticed by the sweet scent of the plums and mangoes and various other assortment of fruits. The blue-eyed one stayed stiff on the bed, but their twitching nose gave them away too.
‘Adorable,’ Wukong’s mind squealed, already searing the image into his brain. Baby monkeys were always cute, but something about the curly fluff of the black and red furred cubs was particularly swooning.
“Hey,” he said, voice suddenly soft, so much so it surprised himself, as he addressed the young monkeys. He reached out slowly, causing both cubs to pull back, but he only pushed a dark violet plum closer to them. “You can eat too.”
The blue-eyed monkey curled a lip, glaring at him again, though this time the glare was weaker, and her attention switched back to the fruit quickly. The orange-eyed one had already grabbed the plum, sniffing its soft skin with owly eyes. Her lips twitched, itsy bitsy fangs gleaming like she wanted to bite, but she hesitated, amber gaze flickering up towards Macaque.
Much like the baby monkeys, Macaque hadn’t eaten the mango he’d grabbed either. He just stared at it, brows furrowed, and gaze a little distant. He sat more upright now, but his body still slumped sideways, and his tail tip flicked irritatedly, slowly.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Wukong questioned, snapping Macaque out of the weird, unfocused funk he’d fallen into. “Or am I gonna have to shove it down your throat? It’s not poisoned!” To prove a point, he grabbed one of the jujubes and shoved it into his own mouth, chewing and swallowing within a second. Already, his stomach grumbled for more, but he knew if he took another bite, he’d end up eating all of the fruit he’d brought for Macaque, and then he’d have to fetch more. And also listen to Macaque’s complaints about him being a glutton.
He stared angrily at Macaque, mostly just because he was annoyed he couldn’t eat more right now, and also because Macaque’s face was annoying. And also the magic in the air still made him feel ugh and tense. And also also he just wanted to glare at something right now and glaring at Macaque was fun.
Macaque’s ears twitched, and he glared back, before he bit down into the mango, only taking a small bite. He chewed slowly for a moment, before his face twitched and he took another, more sudden and bigger bite, much more greedy, showing the exact moment when Macaque’s appetite returned. It was almost amusing to watch the shadow monkey show so much vigor for eating, when that was normally only a trait of Wukong’s.
Even more amusing was the way both cubs perked up, and the orange-eyed one snapped her fangs down onto the plum, only to startle herself as juice shot out, covering her paws and fur, and even getting some onto her sibling’s face, who squeaked and jumped. Wukong cut off the laugh that rose from his throat.
‘Oh god that’s too cute,’ Wukong thought, chest squeezing with warmth as he watched the monkey cub stare bewildered at the mess she made, chirping out apologetically to her sibling. ‘I just wanna squeeze them and squish their little faces.’
The blue-eyed one rubbed their fingers against the splatter of juice sticking to their red fur. They sniffed it with a cutely scrunched nose, before tentatively licking their fingers. Instantly, they perked up, eyes shining with interest as they gazed upon the fruitful feast in front of them. After a moment of hesitation, they scooted to the edge of the couch to reach and grab a mango. Unlike their sister, they took curious little nibbles off the skin.
Meanwhile, the orange-eyed cub was devouring the plum in quick, sharp bites still, little crooning growls leaving her throat, gargled by the food in her mouth. Wukong was a touch worried she wasn’t chewing her food properly before swallowing it, but he couldn’t say anything because at that point she had consumed the entire plum, juice dribbling down the sides of her mouth and fingers clearly sticky, even as she licked and bit at them.
‘Wait a minute.’ Wukong suddenly jolted. “Did you eat the pit?” he asked the small cub, who glanced up at him. “You’re not supposed to eat that. You could choke on it.” He wasn’t sure if he should be panicking or not. The cub clearly wasn’t choking, and, if Wukong was honest, he ate the plum all the time, but only because his jaws were strong enough to break it, and also, he couldn’t choke to death.
“I ate?” the monkey cub said in reply, tilting her head in clear confusion at his words. Then her attention turned back to the other fruits, and hunger lit her eyes as she reached for more.
Macaque’s ears had perked too, and he stared intently at the cub that totally wasn’t his. He watched for a moment, then seemed to determine she was fine, before his eyes narrowed back on Wukong. Wukong stared back at him, raising his chin challengingly. He had no idea what the black-furred monkey was thinking, mostly because this situation was wild as hell and Wukong had no idea what he himself was thinking.
On one hand, cute baby monkeys. Demon monkeys. (After so long of being the only ones left-)
On another, what the fuck was Macaque playing at? Because the Macaque Wukong knew wouldn’t just show up without some kind of scheme, sick or not. With kids or not.
And that still angered him, that Macaque could have secretly had cubs this whole time and hidden them from him. ‘Why?’
“So you gonna explain what’s going on, or do you need me to kiss your boo-boos better too?”
Macaque sneered back at him. "Kiss me and I'll bite your tongue off."
'Kinky,' came Wukong's automatic response, though he stopped the word from leaving his mouth. Shouldn't say that in front of the kids and risk going down a less PG route.
Instead, Wukong said, "I can see you're feeling better already, ray of sunshine that you are." Though, that wasn't exactly true. His sharp tongue was back, but the shadow demon still radiated darkness. Plus he wasn't the healthiest looking he'd ever been, fur unkempt and oily. "Care to answer the damn question now? Why the hell do you have, like, three year old children that are tooootally not yours?" He rolled his eyes in disbelief.
Macaque huffed, lips briefly curling upwards to shine his fangs, before some of the anger seemed to drain from him, tense shoulders dropping and tail thumping. It left behind an exhausted look on his face that Wukong wasn't expecting.
"They're only three- four?" Macaque scrunched his nose and glanced around like he might find a calendar or clock or something. "Four weeks old."
" Weeks? " Wukong repeated, orange eyes going wide, because the fuck? Did Macaque think he was stupid? "Do you think I'm stupid?"
Macaque stared deadpanned back at him. "Is that a rhetorical question?"
Wukong threw his arm out to gesture at the two young cubs who were still woofing down fruit with vigor and excitement. "I know monkey cubs. Month old monkeys are not that big, don't have coordination enough to attack me, definitely are incapable of speech at that age, demon or not, and can't eat solid foods because their teeth haven't grown in yet. "
"They attacked you?" Macaque repeated, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes and a small smirk rising to his lips.
"Uh, yeah , your demonic spawn attacked me!" Wukong replied, growing increasingly agitated at the lack of answers Macaque seemed to avoid giving him. "Which is another question! Why do your kids shoot ice spikes out? Shadowy stuff I get, but that one literally turned into a tiger!" He pointed at the offending monkey, who blinked owlishly and turned to Wukong with cheeks stuffed with fruit. "Demon kids don't usually show their powers that young too."
"Don't you have your glowy little golden true sight eyes?" Macaque questioned, tail tip flicking irritatedly. 'Good, he deserves to be irritated.' "Just fact check it for yourself if you think I'm such a liar."
"I do!" Wukong affirmed. Macaque was a conman; the biggest liar there was. "And my true sight doesn't tell me everything. If it did, my life would be a whole lot less complicated. Also, I wouldn't be asking you questions."
Still, that being said, he turned towards the cubs and activated his golden vision. While it couldn't give him all the answers, it could help him puzzle out some pieces. They definitely passed as three-to-four year-old demon cubs on first glance, but, as he pressed further, he could feel something off- unstable- about their magic aura. Their magic coiled inside them, dark and deep like Macaque's, but there were notable differences. The orange-eyed one's magic had a wild, flaring edge that kept coming and going, while the blue-eyed one's was more firm and sharp, a constant, with a chill at the edges that disturbed Wukong.
But, more than that, the magic felt young. Inexperienced. Untrained. Growing and fluctuating.
Too young and uncontrolled (yet also too powerful) for what a three year old demon's magic would be.
(It reminded him of the similarly too powerful, too uncontrollable magic of the Samadhi fire that had come from Red Son, except not quite as chaotic or deadly.)
“Huh,” he said, clicking his tongue, dumbfounded a bit. He glanced towards Macaque, gold vision still activated, and saw how his magic twisted and ebbed inward rather than outward. Streams of magic crossed over each other, covering the patches where magic seemed strangely absent- the parts where the eerie sick feeling rose most prominently from.
Macaque raised an eyebrow at him as Wukong simply stared.
Wukong snapped his gold vision away, blinking, and frowned, arms crossed. “Okay, so you’re maybe not lying about their age. But… how are they aging so quickly? Normally it’s the other way around- demon children can be in the toddler stage for centuries. I mean, look at Red Son. He’s still only a young adult despite living for hundreds of years.”
Now Macaque frowned too, glancing at the cubs as the orange-eyed one clambered onto the table to grab the fruit closer to the center, happily stuffing her muzzle full. “I’m… not sure. I- within a week they were weaned off milk and could already walk. They just… kept growing. They’ve slowed down now, actually.”
Wukong’s ear twitched as he listened to Macaque, watching the orange-eyed cub (he really needed to learn their names) make a mess of her fur with juice and sticky pulp as well. Her sibling, thankfully, appeared to have satisfied their stomach, and now watched their sister go to town on the food.
A small part of Wukong mourned the fact that he couldn’t have seen the little cubs when they were just born; still suckling. Newborns were adorable. (Monkey cubs of all ages were adorable, who was he kidding?)
But, speaking of suckling…
“Well, who was their other parent?” he questioned, turning back to Macaque with a small frown. “Maybe their species ages fast-”
“They don’t have another parent,” Macaque growled, black fur fluffed in offense and eyes narrowed in anger once more. Then he paused, gaze flickering, and he huffed. “I mean- they don’t have- I’m not their parent either, because they’re not-” He sighed, hand coming up to rub roughly against his face that now was scrunched in annoyance and pain. “They weren’t born .”
Wukong made a half-contemplative, half-confused noise, frowning further. His tail swished behind him. “So they just suddenly appeared out of thin air?” Wukong said dryly. He supposed he couldn’t judge though, being born out of stone and all. Still, it was unusual.
“ Yes, ” Macaque hissed, his tail raising and bristling. “I just- everything was finally over, but noooo. I had to get sick, or- or whatever this is!” He gestured at himself, growing increasingly agitated. “I mean, I felt awful while I was still under- under her control, but I thought it was just- ugh!” Macaque flopped down onto the couch again, shoving his face against the cushions. His body curled once more, and it made Wukong feel startled and awkward that Macaque was so-.... out of it that he’d willingly show him such vulnerability.
The blue-eyed cub crawled closer to Macaque on the couch, icy blue eyes wide. “Okay?” they asked Macaque worriedly. “Baba, you okay?”
Macaque’s ears twitched but he remained still for a solid moment, before he raised his head and glanced back at his cub. “Yes,” he said, in a rumbling, raspy voice. “I’m okay.”
They frowned disbelievingly, casting a glance up at Wukong. Their blue eyes narrowed into slits, and they looked very much like they blamed Wukong for Macaque’s current ailment. “Hrm,” they said.
“Do you know why you’re sick?” Wukong asked, trying not to feel offended at the cub’s suspicion.
Macaque cast him a dark look, like Wukong should have magically known the answer or lack of answer to that question ( ‘Like dad, like kid,’ he mused), before he huffed angrily again, crossing his arms and slouching against the couch. “I have… theories,” he answered after a moment, glancing back at the blue-eyed cub, who remained close by their caretaker. “But nothing concrete. I think… they’re clones.”
That had Wukong’s eyebrows raising. “So they’re clones that gained not just sentience and individualism, but separate consciousness?” Clones were tricky things, but, at the end of the day, they were always just clones that needed to return to their host body. Clones didn’t have the magic to sustain themselves. They could gain their own traits and quirks based on experiences, but they could never exist separately from their creator permanently. Plus, “Then why the hell did they come out as babies? That’s not how clones work.” The two cubs didn’t look identical to Macaque either.
Macaque’s tail twacked tempestuously against the couch cushions, a strong furrow in his brows. “I have no fucking clue. Do I look like a clone expert to you? Besides, my shadow clones have always been different from your and MK’s hair clones.”
Wukong hummed an agreement. Macaque’s shadow clones had always been more creepy and less quirky than Wukong’s clones, and MK’s clones had always been wild cards, creating their own identities, but even they remained attached to their host and weren’t literal children.
“How do you know they’re clones then?”
“Because… well, what else would they be?” Macaque responded, scowling. “I didn’t magically give birth-”
“I’d argue that’s what happened.”
“-and they appeared when my body decided it’d had enough and started trying to… push the sick magic out.”
“You hear your own words, right?”
“Shut up,” Macaque snarled, flashing his white teeth in threat. “I don’t need your unhelpful sass.”
“And I didn’t need you to dump all your problems on me, yet here we are,” Wukong bit back, even though, this time at least, he actually felt inclined to be sympathetic and helpful towards the black-furred monkey. Mostly because of the cubs, though. Just because Macaque decided to be open and honest with him, for once, didn’t mean anything. They both still hated each other.
And that totally didn’t make Wukong’s chest hurt and in turn only make him angrier.
The shadow demon stiffened, fight and anger and hatred quickly reentering and burning in his eyes stronger than ever. His fists curled and his tail thrashed, a fierce growl echoing from his throat. The two cubs snapped their attention towards Macaque and Wukong, both tensing with the fight they had had in them earlier when they had fearlessly attacked Wukong.
Wukong’s heart stuttered in his chest as he saw Macaque forcefully rise from the couch, feet landing on the ground— ‘He’s leaving, he’s leaving, and he’s taking the cubs with him; the cubs hate me, he hates me’— his body swaying, but that didn’t deter the shadow monkey from stumbling away, tail lashing stiffly behind him.
“Of course, how foolish of me to waste my breath on the Great Sage Equal to Heaven,” Macaque spat on his way towards the door. The cubs swiftly shot after him, with the blue-eyed one using shadows to phase through the couch while the orange-eyed one scrambled over it with sticky paws. “To think he would spare any care for lowly peasants so beneath him, the Monkey King.”
Sun Wukong ran after him, reaching out a hand to touch Macaque’s shoulder and stop him, before he winced at himself and pulled the hand away. But, before Macaque could make it out of the door, he shouted out, “You can’t just leave!”
Macaque paused and glared over his shoulder. “Can’t I?”
Wukong’s eyes quickly averted from his harsh glare, landing on the little monkey cubs that clung to their caretaker’s legs, glaring up at him with renewed distrust. “You- you can’t take care of them by yourself. Not- not when you’re still sick. You’re in no shape to fight a demon off if they wanted to hunt your kids.” Were demon monkeys still considered a delicacy? Probably most definitely, considering how rare and practically extinct they were now. If not for that old, traditional reason, Macaque had many enemies, and they would not hesitate to kidnap, hurt, or kill his offspring just to hurt him.
And Wukong may be one of Macaque’s enemies, but he wasn’t a heartless monster .
Not anymore.
“They’ll be safe here; Flower Fruit Mountain is a sanctuary for monkeys, you know that.” He stared pleadingly at his dark-furred counter, arms bowed to his side and tail hanging low to the ground in unspoken apology. “Just stay for the night, at least. You’ve already made yourself at home, anyway.” He gestured around the room, which was mostly intact, except for the empty bowls and plates scattered near the couch, and the places where the cubs had gotten into mischief. “Besides,” he continued, tentatively hopeful, seeing as Macaque had yet to storm off, “you can’t send them out like that . Look at her! She’s covered in fruit guts.”
The orange-eyed cub tilted her head and glanced down at herself. Colors leaning red-orange-yellow-green smeared her face, hands, and chest. She had eaten the entire table of fruit on her own. The small cub lifted her fingers, sniffed them, and licked the sticky pulp off.
Macaque looked down at his kid too, tail tip twitching and his face frowning in indecision. After a moment, in which Wukong knew, shamefully, that Macaque could hear his rapidly thumping heart, Macaque let out an irritated but resigned sigh. “Fine.”
Wukong’s body sagged in relief. Quickly, he bent down to be eye level, or almost eye level, with the cubs. Softly, he told them, with a small, fragile smile, “Wouldn’t you like that? A warm bath?”
The gluttonous cub shied away, hiding herself behind Macaque’s calf while her blue-eyed sibling glared firmly at Wukong, what little trust he’d had with them shattered. His tail dropped onto the floor, upset at the kids’ hatred of him.
‘How do you always manage to do this?’ his mind hissed at himself. ‘Everyone always ends up hating you. It’s like it’s the only thing you know how to do; piss people off.’
“A bath might be much,” Macaque rumbled in his raspy voice, one hand moving to touch the former tiger cub’s head comfortingly. “They’ve only had one once before, and she didn’t like it.” His tail wrapped around the tense blue-eyed monkey, who didn’t move a muscle as she stared up coldly at Wukong.
“Plus,” Macaque added, “pretty sure they wanna kill you now.”
Wukong’s tail twitched irritatedly, his face souring as he saw Macaque’s smug smirk. He knew the shadow monkey knew Wukong didn’t enjoy being unloved by cubs. He was their King; to be unloved by his people reflected a failure in him, and he hated being an unloved disappointment failure. And also the heart sinking feeling of a cute cub hating you.
“Well, you need a bath,” he snarked back, feeling defensive. “I can smell you as much as I can see the disaster that is your fur.” Macaque didn’t look like he had been grooming himself in weeks, much less taking baths. His fur was clumped with dirt and sweat, and possibly matted even though Wukong knew the prideful monkey would never allow such a thing to happen to his beautiful black fur.
Macaque’s shoulders rose, which made Wukong tense, wincing internally at himself and his big mouth.
‘I don’t have a foot kink, so why the hell do I keep putting my foot in my mouth?’ he thought, irritated at his own instinctive need to keep insulting and bantering with Macaque.
But, to his surprise, Macaque just replied, “Tomorrow. I’m too frickin’ tired for a bath. My head still feels like it’s about to explode, and your annoying voice ain’t helping.”
Wukong blinked. Normally he’d be vexed by Macaque’s insult and rise to the bait with one of his own, but he was a bit perplexed at how Macaque had agreed. How he was admitting, despite his pride, that he was dirty and smelled. How he was… making plans, for the future. Even if it was literally one day in advance, it meant… Macaque was staying. For one day, and not just one night, at least, and probably… probably more.
‘I don’t know how to feel about this,’ Wukong decided uneasily. ‘I still can’t trust him, but I can’t abandon the cubs. I can’t ruin this more.’
Unwilling to be in the same room as Macaque for the moment, Wukong turned and headed for the kitchen. “Well, I’m going to fetch some soap so I can at least wash their paws and faces in the sink, even if they bite me for it.”
“Oh, they’ll take off your arm,” Macaque snorted back, but the tiredness was seeping into his voice, a small yawn at the end. Wukong glanced back, at the doorway, and saw Macaque lean down to nudge the two cubs forward. The monkey lowered his voice to a whisper, one that Wukong knew he likely wasn’t supposed to hear, but that Macaque’s illness and exhaustion led to be louder than intended.
‘Is he plotting?’ Wukong’s mind worried instinctively. ‘Telling them lies? He wants them to hate me.’
But, “Go with him,” was what the shadow monkey was murmuring. “I’ll be right here.”
The blue-eyed cub frowned, fingers curling into Macaque’s pants. “But… Stranger was… mean and loud.”
“You gr-growled!” the orange-eyed cub added. “Growling bad!”
“I know,” Macaque said quietly. “He is mean and loud. But you can trust him. Remember, I said there would be someone who could help you with your powers? He’s safe, okay? I promise.”
Breath seemed to leave Sun Wukong’s lungs, his chest compressing painfully as his heart fluttered against his ribcage, emotions conflicted and confused. Because, surely, Macaque couldn’t be saying that about him, right? Macaque was the one with six ears, not Wukong- he must be hearing him wrong. Their entire shebang was that Wukong could never trust Macaque, and Macaque could never, ever trust Wukong. There was too much betrayal and misunderstanding and hurt in their history for them ever to be anything close to friends again.
‘He’s placing a lot of trust in me,’ Wukong thought, and the realization only made his chest tighten stronger. ‘Despite everything that’s happened, and how much we hate each other, he still chose to bring his cubs here for help; for protection.’
Wukong swallowed thickly, forcing himself to walk forward, eyes barely looking where he was going as he let his feet guide him towards the stairs that led to one of his bathrooms.
‘I can’t break that trust,’ he vowed.
‘Not again.’