Chapter Text
Red Son hadn't wanted to deal with anyone right now. Let alone some demon punk who fought dirty. Really, he'd just wanted to get some food in peace for once. So he had been caught off guard when he'd been hit from behind. He'd spun around, glaring as the newcomer dodged. Their curling ram-like horns are covered in jewelry. They'd laughed as they dodged, "So this is the great Red Son of the Bull Clan? You missed!"
He snarled, throwing more fire at them. And the demon was gone. There’s blessed silence before he's thrown from the roof. Violently he’s flung from the rooftop to the alleyway below. He’s a demon, a strong one at that, but he wacks into a pipe below him, and then a sign. A pain radiates from his spine before he smacks into the ground with a heavy thud, cracking the pavement below him. His vision blurs from the pain and try as he might, Red can’t focus enough to teleport away. There’s a shadow standing over him and he snarls up at them.
The light fades.
Red Son is vaguely aware of being moved around. Gently and slowly, but it still hurts enough to draw a pained screech from his throat. Was that an apology he heard? The darkness returned, bringing nothingness with it.
He awoke again braced between several soft pillows. He tries to sit up, but he’s pretty much held down. “Easy there.” A deep voice rumbles. “Your back is broken, you shouldn’t be moving.” The hand is large, reminding him a bit of his father. But it’s trapping him, and he tries to heat up, but he gasped as the movement twinged down his back. He gasped again. “Where am I?” He shouted. It appeared to be a small storage room of some type. With boxes and crates shoved aside to make room for the small bed he was laying on. He’s been bandaged up and an uncomfortable brace around his torso. He grumbled, “Stupid peasants.”
“Of you’re awake!” He looked over to see the noodleboy balanced on a crate. He groaned even more. Of anyone, it had to be the monkey apprentice and his crew. The only thing keeping him from teleporting away now was the pain. And the fact that his brain was foggy. Probably a combination of the pain and…. painkillers(?) They really were too heroic. This was a great opportunity to eliminate or damage a foe, and here they were, patching him up in…the noddle shop’s backroom. “Hello? You alright? I mean you aren’t alright because broken back and all that but you didn’t hit your head too hard right? Tang says you’ll probably heal from the broken back, which is cool but we kinda need you able to talk to really help you so…”
“I can talk, I just don't want to talk to lowly idiots like you!” Red Son snapped.
“Look, we just want to help. You were hurt and it wasn’t fair. You can just leave after you’re healed but let us help you. You’ve trusted me before. Trust me now?” And gods if that soft face and hopeful look wasn’t part of the noodle boy’s powers. It was too convincing, and he was tired. He tried not to think about how he basically owed this ragtag crew. That was a problem for later Red Son. Now Red Son was going to relax for just a minute before he thought too much about it. Sandy (he’s pretty sure that’s his name) gently helps him sit up, handing him a steaming cup of tea. It smells wonderful, and he barely notices MK saying something about going back to work. Sandy leaves as well, and there’s just the oddly blue cat staring at him from the box.
“Uhhhh. Nice cat?”
Said cat continues to stare at him. Red Son had never really been an animal person. So he refocuses on his tea and thinks about what he would tell his parents. Neither one of them was ever too worried about him. He’s said he’d be out for a few days. But he hoped they didn’t get too worried. He was a full-grown demon! Skilled with fire!
He’s been bested by some random ram demon who got the drop on him. Hitting things just right to break his back. How embarrassing. If they knew they’d be ashamed of him. No, he’d stay here until he healed, and say he had gone out to practice his magic. No need for any embarrassing truths to be let out, like the fact he was really enjoying the tea. Or eyeing up the ingredients wondering if he could get his hands on some when he returned home. He did so love cooking. Especially spicey types, perhaps a hot broth and noodles. Sandy returned with a few books and a sketchbook.
“MK said you could have this one. He hasn’t used it yet.” It was a simple book, with an orange cover. A pencil tucked into the spiral binding. Red Son tried not to think about how2 friendly a gesture like this was.
“I mean you should give me something to amuse myself with if you’re insisting on keeping me here.” The demon snarked, gently taking the items anyway. There was a book of folktales, a very worn copy of Journey To The West, and some comic book he’s never seen before. Huffing he placed the first two to the side. Of course, these were the books the Monkei Kid had on hand. He grumbled before flipping open the comic book. And if he smiled at the cat curling against his legs, well nobody was around to see.
—---
Dinner was handed to him by a grinning MK, who had his own bowl of noodles. He’s also shown a container of hot sauce. The tray is balanced on his lap, with the bowl, another cup of tea, chopsticks, and the hot sauce, expertly placed. The delivery boy gestured, “I figured since your food stall was so spicy you can’t taste much unless they’re extreme flavors! So I got you hot sauce. And added some extra spice!” He’s as joyful as ever, and he rolled his eyes as he tries a bit. It does have more taste than food usually does, but he adds more of the hot sauce, glaring at the other as he does. He seems to get the message because he quiets down after that. And well, Red Son couldn't say he didn’t enjoy eating with someone.