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The red wall collapsed on Mk following his body’s heavy slam onto it, his eyes watched the world swaying right, his head wobbly and light before he blinked it into focus again, just in time to roll sideways. A purple, pointy staff cut the wind straight to the spot he was just in, and his heart so painfully squeezed at the realization that he could’ve been killed.
Wiping off the warm blood his cheek was covered in, he stood up, hands on knees, heavily panting, he couldn’t guess whether his hair stuck to his skin from the red liquid or sweat. The Monkie Kid straightened his back in an attempt to ease his breathing, his throat was dry and painful, his muscles pulsed in protest and his ears rang so loud he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or surroundings’ noise. Panic ran through every fibre in his body when his eyes rolled around in search of his opponent, he couldn’t spot him, holding his staff tight he took two steps back, the beating within his chest quickened, urging him to get away. It only made him hold his place more, standing strong. Stubbornness it was or not, he knew that leaving this fight would prove the point he was so desperately fighting against.
His stance only helped in preventing him from dodging the next attack though, a leg came in so strongly, it touched his head, and though ridiculous, he felt his cranium stretching in absorbance to the kick for milliseconds before the force sent him smashed across another wall, blood dripped from his nose like it was a faucet, it scared him so damn much he held his breath a second or two in fright. “Gahh hah,” he tried twisting his lips in to prevent the blood from entering his mouth, but it dyed his teeth a new colour instead.
He couldn’t be distracted with his bleeding nose for long though, his eyes caught the black tail swaying and the shadow monkey walking in the distance. He hastily got up to follow, stumbling a few times before he caught up with him. “Wait!,” he held the demon’s shoulder, fingers sinking so deep into his clothes.
“We…” he coughed and gagged at the odd taste splattering through his pharynx. “We aren’t finished yet.”
The sun was just raising, and the sky held that early dawn kind of purple, it was fortunate the streets were quiet and empty, its lamps were still lit up. The white light casted its rays on Macaque’s face and MK couldn’t make out what his eyes told, it glowed soft gold, its lower eyelids raised, and he looked at MK with a million or so words hidden there but the young man was never able to understand eye language.
“Macaque, I don’t think of you as enem- “, a fist dug into his stomach and MK didn’t know it can sink to this extent till now, he didn’t have the time to be surprised as he, once again, fell down, trying to gain his lost breath.
“Do you think of me as one, now?” Macaque’s words were cold, and while ice cream was sweet and tasty, MK felt like throwing up hearing them.
“No.” He couldn’t help but whisper, the opposite of how strongly and coolly he wished to say it.
“Then you should,” was Macaque’s response, not bothering with MK anymore, he swam in his shadows, completely disappearing from the young man’s sight.
Their fight didn’t have a vocal background to begin with, Megapolis’ citizens were asleep, and shops were closed, you could only hear pained groans and breaking rocks, yet still when Macaque left, MK felt like it had gotten too quiet, he curled in himself in the middle of the street, he didn’t know what to do, he buried his head between his knees trying to prevent it, but his eyes got wet anyways when he felt his pants soaking with blood from his nose and cheeks. “Damnit,” he couldn’t even curse right in his frustration, it was weak, and instead of making him sound angry, it was like a whimper.
“Having a hard time?”
Oddly enough, Wukong knew how to keep his voice just the right volume at times like this. Along the waking world, he followed the rustling trees’ rhythm with a morning whisper, just to tell MK that he was there.
There was a puddle of blood where MK sat, red and warm and covering the rough concrete, and like how the young man didn’t humour The Monkey King with a reply, he also didn’t try to get up or even raise his head. Wukong’s presence wasn’t wanted, and though he knew that he still sat his butt right above the bloody mess, back-to-back with his successor.
Sometimes, MK’s mentors were like demons.
“Why didn’t you follow after Macaque?,” the human’s voice was muffled and low, anger and frustration weren’t hidden, it was his way to sound imposing. Only when it came to this matter, he refused to be soft with his mentors.
But no matter how big and mighty MK tried to appear, Wukong’s focus was on his shivering small back against his, and while The Monkey King’s shoulders stretched wide and stood firm, his student’s were tiny, and weak, he always worried whether he gripped them too tight or pulled too hard.
Wukong leaned his head backwards, his eyes were on the brightening sky above, his hair lowered down and it tickled MK’s neck. “I told you, I have no interest in chasing after that bastard,” he slightly turned his face, yet still he couldn’t catch a glimpse of his student, only the corner of his huddled-up legs. “I only came here for you.”
The Monkey King’s face didn’t convey a thing, MK could tell even without seeing it, it made his blood boil to unbearable levels, he had to clench his teeth, hold his legs close, and bury his head farther and farther down, lest he does something he would regret. Which wasn’t a rare occurrence in his cracked family, for so many times he tried to stop these monkeys from killing each other, each ending with him getting involved and them both going as far away as they could from each other, he was sick of it.
MK’s mentors were demons.
A naïve mind like his would think relationships were the same, was it between humans, animals, or rocks. Once you get to have a family, you would come to care for them, be emotionally attached to each member, and work for you all to live long and happy, knowing that you have each other.
“Then go back to your mountain” his words echoed across the street and a bird flew from a nearby tree. He was their student, their kid, yet still he wasn’t able to be like their restrained, double-faced selves, his tongue spoke of what his insides felt, and while they relied on secrecy and ambiguity, he was an open book, it was impossible for him to hide how angry and hurt he felt about this situation. “I’m gonna do this alone.”
“You’d get yourself killed, kid”
MK’s scream didn’t stop The Monkey King from recklessly raising him from the ground, either he didn’t care about his injured body or was ignorant of how pained humans could be from cuts and bruises. He firmly pressed his struggling student to his chest and jumped on his cloud, “I’m so done with you two! So very done!” The Monkey King’s cloud left a trail of white behind as it went straight to the sky, its rapid acceleration made The Monkie Kid’s heart feel heavy and he hastily put his hands around Wukong’s neck “curse you, Monkey King”, his voice was weak this time and Wukong kept silent about his student’s tears soundlessly streaming down his cheeks.
“You did all you could do.” He eventually said, his voice was rough, and he resolutely looked ahead. His cloud settled with a gentle fly, their destination, Flower Fruit Mountain, was on view. The city stretched wide under them.
With his feet dangling from The Monkey King’s arms, MK kept one hand around his mentor’s neck while wiping his tears with the other, he didn’t notice the monkey’s tail securely wrapped around him.
Relationships were the same, whether it was between humans, animals, or rocks. Yet still his demons of mentors insisted on making theirs different, bloody, full of hate and contempt and secrets and mystery and anger and-
MK couldn’t take it anymore, why wouldn’t a family be like a family?
“I failed at making him stay”
“It isn’t your job to make him stay” Wukong’s big fingers dug into his shoulders, they were painful.
If it wasn’t his job or Wukong’s, then whose? Who else beside a family someone would tell Macaque he wasn’t alone?
Sometimes, he hated them both so much, his chest hurt.
Mornings always carried hope and joy, the promise of a new day. Around The Monkey King’s cloud was the happiness the start of a day brought, full of bright colours. The blue sky, the white sun, and the browns and greens of Flower Fruit Mountain. The active mountain's monkeys seemed energetic down there. It all was so different from how ancient and solemn The Monkey King looked from MK’s point of view, his eyes held wisdom that MK didn’t need and told of stories the young man didn’t want for him.
MK often found himself wishing his mentor didn’t live that long.
Two immortal monkeys who are known to be enemies, and a human young man. Anything putting them three together was bound not to be normal. MK knew that. Yet still…
“I’m still going to try again”
No matter how much the both of them knew what MK was ignorant about, he wasn’t just going to accept whatever decision they took. Especially when it meant them going farther apart.
He fully embraced being the different one between them. Because if he didn’t, then there wasn’t going to be anyone who’d keep this thing connecting them as family anymore.
When he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder, Wukong casted a surprised glance at his student who finally ceased his struggles. MK closed his eyes, and his chest quietly raised and fell.
While he failed today, The Monkie Kid didn’t lose hope for the future, patience was something he learned from Wukong himself.
The three of them wanted different things, yet he was sure what they all needed was the same, to be together, and communicate. Unlike his mentors', MK’s life was going to be short, he was bent on witnessing the picture of them together before he closes his eyes for the last time.
He will make this happen.
The End.