Work Text:
Sixteen years is not a long time at all. So why has so much changed?
WuKong can still perfectly remember the day Xiaotian hatched. He can remember the burst of light, the rush of power. He can remember trembling on his knees as the ground beneath him shifted.
Then, all was calm again. All was perfect, like nothing had happened.
The monkies disagreed. WuKong can remember perfectly how they grabbed at his fur and clothes, nagging him forwards.
The little cub curled at the peak of the mountain, surrounded by cracked remains of a stone shell was not like the others. He radiated energy. Power. Strength. Perfection.
As much as WuKong would love to puff out his chest and say Xiaotian reminded him of himself from day one, he could not. It would be an awful and discrediting lie. Yes, Xiaotian seemed to shine like him.
But in every other way, WuKong was reminded painfully of Macaque.
So the Monkie King- ever the impulsive asshole -made the worst mistake of his life- for not the first time.
He grabbed the sniffling cub by the scruff. He lifted his nose and tried to ignore how adorable the damn girl- at the time a girl -was.
No, he grabbed the little cub, got on his cloud and dropped them off at a little noodle shop. The reincarnations of his past brothers could deal with this Little Macaque.
Yes, WuKong had to admit- however shamefully -that he had not named Xiaotian. Even after finding out the cub, had a name, they refused to use it.
Little Macaque.
That’s what he called them. Little Macaque.
He truly is a terrible monkie. It’s unforgivable, truly. It’s hard, sometimes, to even look Xiaotian in the eyes.
Both eyes.
Sixteen years have slipped through his fingers. And Xiaotian has grown. And yes, he still radiates the energy of Macaque, but it’s easier to ignore, now. And it gets easier, with each passing day that WuKong has trained the child so tirelessly.
So why has all that progress seemed to have reversed, now?