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Time in the Time Void was spent with Fujin mostly watching the events unfold in the real world. Shang Tsung, not particularly caring if Kronika got her way or not, spent a lot of time contemplating his life. Even with a name like the Void, there were still places to sit, albeit nothing to do.
Fujin spent most of his time talking to Nightwolf, but he did speak to Shang Tsung about a variety of things. His evil schemes of the past, his real opinion on other enemies, and other things.
Nightwolf refused to speak to Shang Tsung. His hatred of him was apparent, and frankly, it only encouraged Shang Tsung to tease him further.
He brought up his Revenant a lot. Not as a way to tease him for his death, for even Shang Tsung found his sacrifice to be noble, but to ask him what he would do if he saw him. “You would be ending your own life in a way unimagined,” he would say. Nightwolf would glare daggers, and Fujin would ask the sorcerer to leave him be. Shang Tsung rarely listened.
But when he wasn’t stirring the pot, he was observing the two people that he shared the Void with. Fujin was uninteresting, unfortunately—too nice, cared about his brother, very close with Nightwolf. He noticed them whisper to one another when they could have been resting, and Shang Tsung could barely get out assurances from Fujin to Nightwolf that they would get out of the Void and fix the timeline.
And when Fujin wasn’t paying attention, Nightwolf was swooning.
His angry expression (a result of being within feet of Shang Tsung at any given time) faded the moment that Fujin spoke. Shang Tsung could even see a smile tug at his lips when Fujin talked to him directly. It always surprised him to see Nightwolf so clearly fond of the god. It was clear that they were very close, friends or not.
But no matter what their real relationship was, Nightwolf liked Fujin as something much more.
He thought little of it after they escaped the Void and arrived in Outworld. Once outside the Koliseum, under a tree, Shang Tsung sat on a fallen log. He watched as Nightwolf offered the entirety of his attention to Fujin as he debated their next steps. Even when he became angry, it was clear to Shang Tsung that Nightwolf still trusted what Fujin had to say. It was obvious, really.
But what really sold him was when they traveled to the Jinsei to begin their plan to restore Sindel. Stood outside the pool, Fujin kneeled to gather the liquid.
The look that Nightwolf gave Fujin… It left Shang Tsung shocked. And nearly laughing.
It was the sincerest look of endearment that he had ever seen on another person. Fujin wasn’t looking, and it made the look even sweeter. Shang Tsung did not mention the look then; he wanted to wait until the right time to harass Nightwolf as he had so frequently.
After Shang Tsung’s failed attempt to get the Jinsei for himself, Fujin addressed them both. “You two may leave. I’ll stay behind to secure the Grotto.” Fujin turned to Shang Tsung then, scowling. “Your aid is not required.”
Shang Tsung glared at him and offered an arm for Nightwolf to go first. The pair traveled in silence through the exit and towards the trap dungeon.
Shang Tsung stepped ahead, and when nearly at the exit, he held out an arm and stopped Nightwolf in his tracks. Ignoring his surprised frown, he picked up a stray pole and reached it forward. In a flash, sharp spikes on either side came in from the doorway. Both of them stepped back in surprise, and Shang Tsung smirked at the sight of a traveler caught on the spikes. Heaven knew how long he had been hanging there.
“These traps are excellent,” Shang Tsung mused aloud. “Who knew the Shaolin were so diabolical?”
He could sense Nightwolf’s annoyance without even looking at him. “From you, that’s high praise,” he replied.
Shang Tsung shot him a glare and shoved the pole into his hands, causing him to stumble. He walked through the doorway, careful to avoid the trap-triggering brick on the floor. “Indeed.”
He heard the clatter of the pole hitting the ground, and since he did not sense any immediate danger, he took his chance. He turned to face Nightwolf and tilted his head. “So… Fujin.”
Nightwolf’s annoyance changed into confusion. “What about him? You had better not be planning anything against him with me, sorcerer, or—”
“Relax.” Shang Tsung nearly rolled his eyes, but he held back. “You think I am foolish enough to plot against him with you? Neither of us would benefit from eliminating him now.”
Nightwolf lifted a hand to hover over his belt buckle. “What about Fujin, then? If you don’t want to conspire against him with me?”
Shang Tsung smiled. “You like him, do you not?” He opened his hands. “As a lover? And not just a friend and valuable ally?”
The shaman’s eyes widened in shock. His shock vanished, and anger replaced it. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t like Fujin. Not like that.”
“Then why did you spend most of our time in the Time Void gazing at him like a man would his handsome lover?” Shang Tsung inquired. “And why did you look at him with endearment by the Jinsei? Your expression softens when he speaks your name. You listen to him. You confide in him. You are swooning.” He slowly paced around the dungeon, admiring the look of embarrassment on Nightwolf’s face. “If you do not like him, then you are already dating, and I know that is not the case. It would be much clearer on his end.”
He almost laughed aloud when Nightwolf began to blush. He looked away from the sorcerer and to his feet, sighing to himself. “And what’s it to you,” Nightwolf said quietly, “if I do like him?”
Shang Tsung simply shrugged. “A secret between you and I… Something I can hold over your head to make you nervous. That is all.” He took a step closer to him. “I want to see if all of your staring is related to my theory. He is very handsome, rather kind, especially to you… It would not be unheard of to fall for someone like him. I have an excellent feeling that I’m right. You have a crush on the Wind God.”
Nightwolf looked up at him. He furrowed his brows, clearly concerned. “Don’t tell him. Please.”
“Outright? I would never,” Shang Tsung said truthfully. “It is not up to me to tell him how you feel. Not at all my place. But I know this.” He smirked. “He more than likely has no clue, so I may be able to reference it in conversation… vaguely, of course.”
“You wouldn’t,” Nightwolf retorted.
“I would.” Shang Tsung chuckled. “No offense to your crush, but he is a bit lacking in common sense. I could likely mention your desire to kiss him—”
“Shang Tsung!”
“—and him not bat an eyelid.” He held back a laugh at Nightwolf’s growing blush. “But I would not do that. Telling him outright would ruin the fun, yes?”
Nightwolf wanted to kill him. Shang Tsung could see it in his eyes. But he took in a deep breath to suppress his anger and let it out as slowly as he could manage. “I am trusting you with this secret, Shang Tsung. Do not give me an additional reason to kill you.”
Shang Tsung laughed. “As if the list could get any longer.” He finally moved to stand directly next to Nightwolf, ignoring the apprehensive look on his face. “May I offer a piece of legitimate advice?”
“Go ahead,” Nightwolf replied. “What is your advice?”
“I advise that you tell him about your crush sooner than later,” Shang Tsung said seriously.
Nightwolf cocked a brow. “And why is that?”
Shang Tsung turned to see a swirl of sand in the middle of the trap dungeon. He offered Nightwolf a final look, filled with legitimate truth.
“You never know where our lives take us. It will be too late before you can even blink.”