Chapter Text
One who goes into solitude will either sink to the bottom or rise to the top
In the six days leading up to the interrealm tournament, you do not speak.
It is not on purpose.
Most of Wu Shi Academy’s permanent residents knew what to expect when Liu Kang called for the final test:
First, there would be a day of Kombat to determine Earthrealm’s champion.
Then, there would be one week of preparation.
Finally, there would be a week of silence as the representatives of Outworld and Earthrealm determined which would be this century’s victor. This was intended as a period of self-reflection, of meditation on Earthrealm’s place among the realms and the temple’s place in service to its safety.
So, when Raiden won, there was just enough time for a round of applause before the entire temple jumped to task.
Liu Kang led his chosen four away, smiling proudly, and you - with a wave you're not sure any of them saw - went straight into whatever the masters directed their students to do. Preparing food, washing laundry, cleaning the training grounds... Anything to give Earthrealm’s champion the best start he could get outside of training.
From the first bell in the morning to the nightjar’s call after sunset, you put in as much effort as you imagined the dream team was - and twice as much as the monks around you.
All to help the Fire God.
Today, it was your turn to sweep the courtyard by the east wing, and you were taking your time despite the clear toll of the dinner bell some time ago. Liu Kang had taught you about mindfulness and intent while staying here, so you found these simple tasks relaxing. It was there, with just your thoughts and the sinking sun, that you realized it had been six days since you had talked to anyone.
You stared blankly into the yellow clouds cresting the mountain peaks. You dragged the broom jaggedly on the cobblestone - messy, unfocused. Liu Kang had brought you to the academy with the chosen four at the same time. Sure, you weren't one of the chosen, but you thought you fit well into their little group. You'd made fast friends with Raiden and Kung Lao (easy considering how personable they were), and even Kenshi had warmed up to you after deciding you weren't responsible for Johnny's bullshit.
Liu Kang had graciously extended Johnny’s invitation to Wu Shi Academy to you, and he made it clear he didn't expect anything in return. At the time, you'd assumed that the violent nature of your first meeting had pushed him to offer. That, maybe, he felt guilty for injuring you, or maybe Johnny wouldn't agree to go with him until he apologized to his longest-employed housemaid. (You doubted you were that important, but never put it past Johnny Cage to act like a petulant superstar.)
The point is - when he offered, you jumped on it. Immediately. An all-expenses paid trip to the Songshan mountain range, and you didn't have to ride in a plane to get there? All hail the fire god, bro. You didn't care if it was a pity invite.
But you did care that your new friends didn't notice your absence. At least… you considered them to be your friends? In the first weeks of residence at Wu Shi, all of you had grown close enough to trust each other, if not respect.
Even once their Kombat training began in full, you'd noticed all of them would seek you out in some capacity - Raiden taught you the same words and phrases in Mandarin that he learned to help navigate the temple, Kung Lao and Johnny would invite you to sit outside the cafeteria with them so the three of you could joke and talk as loud as the masters would allow, and on nights when you found yourself up later than you wanted to be, Kenshi wouldn't say a word. Just pour you some of whatever he was having that night. (Sometimes it was tea. Most of the time, it wasn't.)
Now, it had been six days since you last breathed in their direction and none of them had checked on you.
Maybe you were being too harsh. You weren't personally on a Shaolin training regimen, but you had seen how hard Liu Kang was working them - even invited yourself to a few of the “easier” training sessions, as Johnny had called them. Ashtanga Vinyasa - you remember it vividly. A method of yoga so intense that it had left you sprawled immobile across the floor and, if that wasn't mortifying enough, Liu Kang had personally carried you back to your quarters afterward.
You can't imagine what they had to do now that they were going to Outworld. Liu Kang had spoken of peace between the realms, but he never hesitated to stress the dangers of them, either.
You rested your head on your broom and let out a deep sigh. Your silence, though unintentional, seemed to have gone unnoticed.
Or so you thought.
“Damn, girlie, thought you'd died! What's with the cold shoulder?” Johnny Cage comes swaggering down the path to the monk's quarters, notably in the opposite direction of the dining hall, where he was supposed to be right now . You know this diva doesn't eat that fast. The top of his uniform was open and off his shoulders, hanging wet with sweat from the fabric belt around his waist - had he come straight from training, then?
“I'm not ignoring you, dude, just doing what the boss says,” You respond. Despite being your employer until recently, you'd always thought Johnny was fun to be around. You should be happy he finally came to see you. Instead, you felt too frustrated to entertain him. “Which is all for you , by the way. Like, not to inflate your ego anymore, but we are literally doing this for the four of you.”
He chuffs. “Yeah, yeah, chosen by the Fire God - whatever . I know I'm special,” There's a bicep flex and a wink, and - oop - now he's taken your broom and started twirling it like a bo staff. “Speaking of bosses…. You know you don't work for Liu Kang, right? As a matter of fact, I believe you're still technically employed by me .”
And yeah, you weren’t sure if you were still considered his employee by the state of California, but Johnny hasn't asked you to dust a vase since Malibu. Liu Kang, on the other hand….
Well, he hasn't asked you to do that either.
But now that you're thinking about him, you're also thinking that the last time you talked to him was six whole days ago when you punched his (stupidly hard) bicep and told him you were excited about the trial results. He just gave you one of those “I Am A Child Of The Sun’s Brightest Rays” smiles and said “yeah, me too.”
You recall a bout of temporary blindness from bearing the brunt of that full-frontal sunshine, then being too pumped by Johnny getting his ass handed to him before going to bed that night with a silent wave in their general direction.
“He feeds us, and he clothes us, and he's the literal protector of Earthrealm , so maybe I consider helping him out more important than spit-shining your sunglasses,” You don't point out that Liu Kang has never actually asked you to pitch in on temple duties. It was just something you picked up out of gratitude for letting you tag along - the Fire God was a busy man, you realized. In another world, he might not have allowed you to stay. “That contract’s probably void by now, anyway. We can talk about renegotiating when we get home, sir .”
Johnny places a wrapped hand on your shoulder, pulls his sunglasses down, and - oh, there's no way this asshole is pouting at you.
“But…pookie…” he says. “I still drop a bag in your bank account every 12 to 14 business days.”
You don't know how he makes his eyes glitter when the sun is clearly behind him.
You do know that he's probably telling the truth, though. Despite your unemployment, you've noticed your account has never dipped below zero even with your bills being withdrawn on time.
You give him a pinched frown. “...you're the reason I grind my teeth at night.”
“And you are my number one fan!” He flashes a press-ready smile before leading you away with one arm around both of your shoulders, broom thrown carelessly toward the middle of the courtyard along with the failing top of his hanfu. “Seriously though, Liu Kang didn't bring you here to work. I know you have, like, a weird burning passion for cleaning, but you're right! Your contract is void right now. Maybe cut loose a little.”
The flippancy of his tone causes something acidic to bubble in your chest and then sink terribly to your stomach - why? You're sure he's just matching your cheekiness, but despite the joking nature of your conversation, you can't help but feel hurt that he's not taking you seriously. You cough gently before considering your response.
“I mean he, uh… he didn't bring me here for anything, actually. I'm here because of you, because of whatever you said to him. I can't even fight like the rest of you - I'm- I just- I don’t want-” your voice raises unintentionally and you're nearly shouting towards the end, but you temper that frustration by pulling yourself out of Johnny's orbit and taking a deep breath.
He holds his hands up in mock surrender - you're not mad at him, though. In all honesty, it's nice to talk to your friend one on one. It's been a while. More than a week. Maybe you've been stressed for longer than just the tournament preparations…
After a moment, Johnny rolls his shoulders out and approaches you like a feral cat - slowly, more open. He wraps his arm around you again, kinder this time. You let him because you miss your stupid friend.
He rubs his hand up and down your clothed arm. It reminds you of the time, early into your employment with him, when you had broken down crying in his living room from stress. He comforted you the same way then - a touch so firm, you felt more like a dog being pet than a girl being hit on.
“Easy, kid. I'm just saying I don't think our fearless leader would drop you if you didn't do any chores. Seriously,” He laughs lightly. “He’d probably be more pissed to see how much work you're doing. Wait, does he know? Oh my god…”
He's such a hypocrite sometimes. Saying you didn't have to prove yourself to stay here like he didn't do the same thing. Like you could tell him he didn't have to pay you to be his friend and he would just believe you.
With this in mind, you take a deep breath and have a second realization of that afternoon - you're jealous.
You are shaking, screaming, foaming at the mouth jealous. Jealous that he gets to spend so much time with the others. And you don't think it's fair to aim this at just Johnny, either. You think you’ve felt this way for a while.
The last six days of nonstop work come flying at you and you feel everything at once - the pain in your wrists, the bone-deep exhaustion, all of your frustration crawling its way up your throat, piercing at your eyes, and once again you think this isn't just a week of unintentional isolation. This is several months of feeling utterly alone in a foreign world, a new reality.
You miss your friends.
You miss the time before they fully committed to training - when the five of you were acclimating and getting used to each other. Before they left you behind. You know that's not fair to say because it's exactly what they're here for, but you really can't help it.
You miss spending time with Johnny. You miss joking around with Kung Lao. You miss your conversations with Kenshi and Raiden.
You even miss Liu Kang.
Now, all of them are about to leave for something that will surely be life changing. Perhaps reality altering.
You come back to yourself and find that you and Johnny have stopped in front of the food hall. A few tears beat their way past the tight scrunch of your face. You lean into Johnny a little harder.
"I'm just... I'm so happy to be here - I shouldn't... I shouldn't be...." you choke on an inhale. Johnny squeezes your arm tighter.
"You should go talk to him. Really."
"... yeah. Yeah, I will." you peek at the smile he's giving you now, soft and genuine, and rub the wetness from your cheeks. This isn't the first time you've cried in front of your former boss, but it'll never stop being embarrassing. "Not now, though. Later."
He rolls his eyes at your procrastination, but you only double down with a firm nod, a reciprocating shoulder squeeze, a spin on your heel - and a full-tilt sprint back to your assigned workstation.
"Where the fuck are you going? Come EAT!" he shouts at your back.
"NO!" You know you're faster than him, but you pray that he hasn't decided to pursue you because there aren't many places to hide that he couldn't find you. You pray, especially, that Liu Kang wasn't nearby to witness you physically run away from your problems.
Whatever.
You've got work to do before the dream team leaves Earthrealm entirely - and then you really won't have to think about it.
---
The rest of your assigned tasks pass by fairly quickly, and it’s not much time at all before the sun finishes its descent. It's only when you see the masters retire and the Lin Kuei take up their watch posts that you begin to think you're in for a long night - you have yet to stop trying to find things to do around the temple. Your entire conversation with Johnny twists itself into knots in your mind, so you look for any excuse to avoid thinking about it.
Everything you learned about meditation goes out the window. No matter how hard you dust, scrub, or organize, you cannot escape your feelings from earlier. The bitterness and discontent you dredged up just from talking to Johnny had shocked you. Scared you, even. And it was all symptomatic of a getter disease within you.
You were being selfish.
You knew that you could not monopolize their time for nostalgia's sake. They had the weight of Earthrealm on their shoulders; you could not do anything that would weaken their resolve or distract them from reaching their full potential. It was completely disrespectful of you to overrule that just because you wanted your friends to know you were proud of them.
In fact, none of them had come here to make friends. Hell - you weren't even supposed to be here . You wouldn't be seeing anyone but Johnny after the tournament, anyway. Probably not even him if he pivoted his career the way he was trying to. You should get used to life without them as it was.
Or spend as much time with them as you can while it lasts, that same recurring, selfish part of you thinks.
You talk yourself in these circles for the better part of three hours. It becomes very literal when, at some point you don’t notice, you forgo “working” entirely and find yourself pacing the inner wall of Wu Shi Academy.
You were on your third lap now, and you could feel the exhaustion catching up to you.
Instead of retiring, you let yourself stop and take in the heavens that crested Wuru Peak. The sky in this part of Henan was always cloudy around autumn. The night seemed to hang low and close, making you feel claustrophobic if it weren't for the rare thinning of its veil - places in the clouds that were gossamer-sheer, allowing the occasional glimpse of the moon as if through tissue paper. The overcast dusk quieted your mind better than any labor.
Until a shadow to your left moved.
The night was so thick that you hadn't noticed you were by the pagoda yard. It was more intimidating at night - heavy clouds obscured its upper tiers, with mist swirling around it like smoke. And, like smoke, Tomas Vrbada bleeds out of those depths.
“You have broken curfew,” he says. You couldn't see his mouth, but you could hear him frowning. “You are disrespecting the rituals of Wu Shi Academy.”
He approaches you low and sure-footed, the same stealthy gate you had seen Liu Kang teach the others. You remember you tried to jump in on that lesson, too, but Bi Han had been assisting that day and would not let up on your form. You never made it past two steps before he would order you to reset and try again - never letting you leave and not paying attention to anyone else. Asshole.
“Right, sorry. It’s just a strange night for me. It won't happen again.” You feel like a little lie won't hurt. You had interacted with Tomas even less than Bi Han and, for the same reason you knew Raiden to be more patient than Kung Lao, assumed he would be much nicer than his frigid elder brother.
You assumed wrong.
He points a finger at you, familiar karambit knife in his hand but with the sharp edge facing him. “We are aware of your frequent trespassing on matters of self-discipline. You may be a guest here, but you must obey these practices all the same. It is only by the grace of Liu Kang that you have not been dealt with.”
A long-suffering groan escapes you at the mention of Liu Kang. You roll your eyes - not just at the thought of him doing you another undeserved favor by letting you get away with past misdemeanors, but at the stick that seemed to be shared between all three of these Lin Kuei brothers’ assholes.
“Okay, damn , don't jump down my throat,” you snap. “I’ll pop a nightcap and fuck off, don't worry about it.”
Your state of admiration for the weather was broken, and you felt your shitty attitude from earlier ease its way back up your tensing shoulders. You turn to leave.
Just in time because Tomas had relaxed slightly when you acquiesced, but immediately whipped his head in your direction at the mention of you drinking on temple grounds.
“No, wait-”
“Imsorrygoodnight!” and you jog back to your room in the west wing, just north of where you were now.
You didn't hear him follow you as you hurried away - maybe he was more chill than his brother. You doubt you would have been able to notice if he had chased you, anyway.
As you approach your quarters, you see a soft light shining through the shaded window. You hadn't returned since breakfast this morning when you took yóutiáo and tea from the cafeteria to eat in privacy before beginning your packed cleaning schedule.
Had one of the masters seen how diligent you were and tidied up while you were out? Maybe they left a candle burning?
You contemplate other possibilities - selfishly imagining one of your friends coming to check on you this late at night. Maybe Kenshi had stopped by to share a drink, or Raiden came to tell you how he’s been adapting to his new powers. Maybe…
Maybe Johnny came to check on you again.
You felt bad for the way you treated him earlier today. He had obviously come to spend time with you (like you wanted ), and you just blew him off - why? Because you haven't spoken to him in a few days? He had literally found you to fix that.
Your guilty thoughts overwhelm you so you yank the door open stiffly, like ripping off a bandaid and see -
It’s Liu Kang.
He is sitting by your bed. And there’s a tray of food beside him.
You almost choke on your startled inhale - this is objectively worse than having to talk feelings with Johnny again.
It was no secret you were intimidated by the Protector of Earthrealm. The chosen four saw Liu Kang as their grandmaster: infinitely knowledgeable and worthy of their respect. They teased you relentlessly when they realized how awkward you were when he was around. You tried to explain that it was something you couldn't help - as someone raised semi-orthodox, you only had experience with one god and he was not this handsome and probably only half as real.
As a result, you had only ever interacted with Liu Kang in passing. Usually with most of the chosen around and always with a strange, thumping ache in your chest. The same ache you were feeling now, the one that made you want to bolt. But it feels like running from your problems is becoming as much of an issue as your conceited desire to spend time with your friends, so you hesitate.
Despite your panicked floundering, he hasn’t noticed you yet. You don't want to change that by retreating.
So instead, you take this moment to study him. Because of your…. affliction , you’ve never had the chance to see him in such a domestic setting. It feels strange. Intimate.
Seeing him here, sitting cross legged by your bedside, he does not look like a god.
The way the candlelight dances across him, taking the sharp profile of his jaw and painting it softly, reverently. His eyelashes cast spidery webs down his cheeks as the flame flickers and you notice for the first time that it does so every time he breathes in. It reminds you that this was no mortal man in your room - there was no doubt he was blessed by fire for the flame to caress him this way, to be so attuned to his body.
The light shifts as he tilts his head mildly, causing the hair he'd swept over his shoulder to cascade down his back hypnotically. He sighs. You feel that dull discomfort within you make itself known again.
The whole scene captivates you: hearing such a human action, seeing him out of context. Suddenly, you feel like you're intruding. As if you have stumbled into a portal to an era long past and are playing voyeur to some poor stranger at the end of a long day.
And then the stranger says your name.
“You have returned. I did not see you in the dining hall this afternoon as I had hoped. I’ve brought food to make up for your missed dinner.”
Liu Kang turns to push the tray towards you. Then, as soft as candlelight, he meets your gaze and smiles. It is not as strong or beaming as the one he gave you before Raiden’s trial, but it is tender. It makes him look younger.
That, on top of everything else, makes you feel … weird. You'd always thought of him as existing in an ageless stasis - never born, never dying, eternally beautiful.
But this version of Liu Kang sparks a tremor in your heart - deep, trembling. The same you’ve felt since meeting him that day in Johnny’s mansion.
At first, you thought it was some sort of primal fear. It had been an appropriate reaction, given the circumstances. You walked into work that day to see him and the Lin Kuei standing over Johnny's body with a stranger tied to a chair - not the best first impression.
As you got to know him more (in the early days of Wu Shi, when he paid more attention to you), you thought it was because he was too pretty to look at. The noble slope of his nose, his perfect hair, the way his chest was stupidly muscular and exposed all the time . All of it lent itself to a body that you believed only a god could inhabit. It was only natural to admire him.
Realizing this didn't make it go away like you thought it would.
So, you made peace with the partial heart attacks you got whenever he was in the same room. They got easier to manage the more time you spent with him - most of it "professional" in a way. The two of you had very few personal conversations. But it was times like this when you were alone together, when he was smiling at you like he was truly happy to see you because he was waiting for you , that the feeling came back tenfold and your whole body felt static.
"I didn't realize you were there today. Or ever, really," you responded. You felt the need to measure your breaths, for some reason, like exhaling too hard would give your thoughts away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... avoid you... if you wanted to talk to me."
You had totally meant to avoid him.
"That is not what I meant to imply. I was concerned about you missing a very important meal. Someone told me you have been working especially hard in preparation for the tournament." He shifts to the side to make room for you next to him. You catch sight of something in his hand - a letter? - before it is gone in the blink of an eye. "I was also thinking that it has been some time since we have had the chance to speak, just the two of us."
Some time since… just the two of us...
That phrase rings in your head - When was the last time the two of you talked privately? Did he think about it that often?
"I don't think Johnny Cage would appreciate being called just 'someone'." you deflect. Classic.
It wasn't a good deflection, obviously, but the idea that he wants to talk to you alone makes you a little dizzy. You sit down by your bedroll - across from him.
He laughs softly - laughs - and it causes his eyes to crinkle. The moment is gone in a flash, but you could almost feel how fast your neurons were firing, burning the image into your brain forever. Your chest squeezes a little tighter.
But it might actually be heartburn this time because he's right about you skipping dinner.
"He is worried. You are ‘falling into old habits,' as he put it." Liu Kang picks up a tangerine from the tray before pushing it closer to you. "That kind of familiarity is not typical of him. I believe that you might be one of his longest acquaintances. Perhaps his first real friend."
You don't know what to say to that because he's hit the nail right on the head. Asshole celebrities like Johnny don't get the luxury of personal relationships, and now that you've outlasted his wife in proximity, you have noticed that your boss/employee symbiosis wouldn't fly anywhere else.
You and Johnny's relationship is long and storied and begins before you even met him - when your mother landed a stable job as one of his house cleaners just before you moved to LA to be with her.
Then your mom died, you begged to take up the role out of desperation, and Johnny's generous paychecks kept you afloat. More than afloat, in fact, since you had been able to go back to college and apply for grad school with all you had saved working for him - and he had encouraged going part-time for all of it.
He had never crossed any personal boundaries with you but, when it came down to it, you and Johnny acted more like friends doing each other favors rather than a generous boss doting on an employee.
Shit, now you feel like even more of an asshole for shoving off your friend just for trying to check in on you.
You're truly at a loss for words, but goddamn if you're not stubborn.
"Yeah, well... he's….. He’s just Johnny." You say hypocritically.
This guy makes your chest physically hurt; he can handle a little false obstinance.
You turn your attention to the food in front of you. He's brought you a bowl of various fruits and another one with a ceramic cover. Just being near Liu Kang makes you the tiniest bit nauseous, but now that he's broken the ice, you can at least see that he hasn't come here to interrogate you.
Still, you hesitate before starting on your food, fixated on the deft way his fingers peel the skin on his tangerine - sticking a thumb deep between the flesh and the fruit and pushing counter-clockwise with his other hand so it comes off in one solid spiral. It's endearing, the way he gives a small, accomplished smile before splitting the meat of it apart. You turn back to the tray to grab one but see it's the only tangerine he brought.
Oh, well. There are plenty of fruits to make up for it. Peaches, plums, and some dried jujube fruit - all things you seek out first whenever they’re available in the dining hall.
Just as you reach for a peach, he interrupts.
"Ah, actually... I would suggest the covered bowl first," he says. "It might get cold before you're done."
"The god of fire wouldn't heat it up for me?"
"Would you ask that of him? After making him wait so long to see you?"
Oh my god.
You made your best play to tease him, to try and get back at the strange ache he makes you feel, but it totally backfired. His demeanor shifts instantly from kind and patient to a boy's mischief, eyes flickering like the shadows on the wall.
Heat flares up your cheeks - you're not used to a god being able to talk back.
He goes back to popping orange slices into his sassy little mouth. You give up on teasing, if only to see what he’s so eager to show you.
You're glad you did. Liu Kang brought you zhōu .
Chicken broth congee, with century egg and green scallions exactly how you like it - nothing like the eight treasures porridge the monks would serve at breakfast and this is not supposed to be in Wu Shi Academy.
You start shoveling piping hot spoonfuls into your mouth, scared the Abbott might jump out and take it away while reciting Dhyana sutras about why this was so disrespectful - and it definitely was. You weren't a monk, but you tried to hold respect for doctrine while you were here. You never ate meat on temple grounds because they were completely vegetarian through Chan Buddhist practice, but on the occasional trips into surrounding cities, you would indulge. Something light and traditional like congee remained one of your favorites.
"Holy shit, how'd you even get this?" you barely slow down to ask him, slurping egg and scallion alike even when the rice porridge burns your tongue.
Liu Kang just holds an orange slice to his lips. If you squint in this low light, it kinda looks like he... winked?
"Seriously, I thought you were Buddhist, too. That's why you took us here."
"I am a god."
"I know that you know those two things aren't mutually exclusive."
"There are many paths to enlightenment."
You roll your eyes so hard you have to stop eating for a second.
"Really? Even if it gets us in trouble?" you lean forward and give a conspiratorial whisper, acting as if someone was watching you right now.
To your dawning horror, you think you might have broken through to him because he purses his lips and nods decisively. Oh, shit, wait a minute . You load up what might be your last bite of chicken congee, complete with the fastest slice of pídàn left in the bowl.
"...you're right," Liu Kang leans in, closing the gap between you further...
"Then you should eat faster."
And he steals your perfect bite.
"wha- HEY!"
You reach for him, but it's too late. He's leaning away from you, mouth stuffed with stolen congee, shoulders shaking in a laugh you can feel through your hand on his chest.
He doesn't even chew - just swallows the whole thing once he gets far enough away from you. Then he's on the floor with his head thrown back, laughing and fielding your grasping hands with ease.
And it's so bizarre. The Liu Kang you walked in on compared to the Liu Kang now. It is almost too hard to reconcile.
You think of Liu Kang the teacher, with a firm hand and a patient tone. You think of Liu Kang the god, with sharp, sound judgment and a discerning eye.
You think of the Liu Kang you met first, back in Johnny’s mansion. Who looked at you in complete shock, total confusion. Whose eyes followed you constantly for the first weeks of your meeting with neither judgment nor surety, but instead… apprehension.
You don't know what made him tiptoe around you back then, but you know now that Liu Kang the stranger treated you with as much respect as a rival kombatant. The same metered gaze, assessing your power, appraising your movements.
And now Liu Kang the man - sitting casually on your floor in the quarters he personally assigned you. He brought you your comfort meal. He stole your food. He joked and teased and laughed so hard it knocked him on his back, as if he was shocked by its intensity.
He's sitting up again, still chuckling slightly, but it does not feel as surreal as it did before. It is strange to watch a god catch their breath, though.
Who was Liu Kang? In the past, you heard him call himself a demigod and assumed he meant part human.
If he was part human, why were there times when he forgot to breathe? You noticed he talked without inhaling first. How he would stop breathing entirely when he meditated. The way he laughs like he trips into it, stuttering hiccups in his diaphragm as though he was remembering how to laugh from his stomach. But how does a human forget?
How long ago had he been human?
He goes back to sitting cross-legged across from you, but you quickly crawl over the bedroll to sit next to him instead, keeping your tray on the far side of your body away from him.
Easier to guard your food, sure, but harder to look at him.
You feel as though your entire world has been tilted on its axis. If there was a neutral way you regarding Liu Kang before, it is gone completely - you are confronted with the pain in your chest being caused by something deeper than his beauty, more profound than the kindness he has shown you. Now, you see a remarkable part of yourself in him.
If you have felt lonely these past few days, it is nothing compared to what he must have felt for centuries.
You wonder if he has any friends he misses, too.
-
You learn from Liu Kang that it's only 9 p.m. - well past curfew, but not too late that you've lost the night itself.
Comforted that you might still get a good night's sleep, you take your time finishing your food and indulging Liu Kang when he asks you questions: how you've been doing, life before you met Johnny, what your mother was like.
You allow yourself to indulge as well. Admit that the comfort has more to do with Liu Kang's presence than your joy over a good night's sleep. You lean closer when he speaks too low, stare harder at his hands as he continues to peel, split, peel that lucky little tangerine, forget about the hundred other things he should be doing other than talking to you.
If he was a god, then there was nothing you could truly take from him. But if he was a man…
You think he appreciates the company.
The two of you talk easily, easier than you can ever recall interacting with him before your realization. Liu Kang and you have a similar sense of humor, you learn - sarcasm that is both dry and warm at the same time, calculated in a way that cuts but never too mean to burn. Just one more way he embodies the flame he is patron to.
Before you know it, you've finished your zhōu, and he seems to be similarly done with his tangerine despite you never having seen him eat it. He was just a man in your room tonight. The thought hums in your chest with something bordering on satisfaction.
Even as just a man, his presence is all-encompassing. You stand with him as he gathers the tray and sets your blanket right where he (very humanly) tripped over it. You cannot help but orbit him as he gets ready to leave. A satellite to an uncommon star.
All of a sudden, he is just beyond your door, outside of the moment created in the solar system of your space, leaving you cold and weightless when you realize the night is coming to an end.
It must show on your face because he looks mournfully at you and sighs.
“Johnny thinks you don't want to be here,” he says. “He told me to send you home.”
You feel something akin to a knife in your chest. Ouch . So much for not causing them any trouble.
“Oh, that Johnny. What does he know about… like… missing stuff,” you huff, hoping it sounds more like a self-deprecating laugh than the air being punched out of you. “He always gets what he wants.”
Like more time with you, you don't say. All of your friends - off together on one big happy field trip, and you get left behind again.
You look up and see he’s frowning harder. Huh, he almost seems a little distressed. Very strange.
Liu Kang presses a firm (heavy, heated) hand on your shoulder. “Do not hide from me the way you did him.”
This must be the fire god commanding you this time - an exchange for the sustenance he supplied tonight.
“What-”
“Your friends are worried about you,” he whispers. Molten eyes bore into yours, white-hot and insistent but not unkind. “We have not been avoiding you.”
We are worried about you. We have not been avoiding you.
We.
Your vision turns blurry. You don't think you could stop it if you tried. It’s the perfect storm of connection, sincerity, Liu Kang pulling you so far out of your own head that it makes you dizzy.
Unconsciously, you shake your head at the thought of returning to your chores tomorrow. Alone. Quiet.
“I don't know what to do. I don't wanna be a bad fr- a bad-,” You say. Your eyes go wide and your mouth trembles. Your chest is suddenly so full of air that you try to get it all out in a rush. “I- I’m so- I don't know how to handle this. I don't know who to tell about this and-" a shoulder squeeze, “and I don't even know if I should because it's not your problem and you're all working so hard I just- I just- want you to know that I'm working hard, too. That I'm so proud of them. I want to help, too. I want to be close to y- close, too."
You choke on another sob, and god , this is even more pathetic than when Johnny tried to pep talk you, the little traitor. So busy are you with your unraveling emotions you don't hear Liu Kang shudder on a strange exhale, timed with the flex of his fingers on your bicep and uncanny in the lack of inhale that preceded it.
“You are not helping by-"
“By being so selfish, I know"
“-by avoiding us!" He looks startled by your self-deprecating declaration, hand jolting off your shoulder as if he's been burned. “If the problem is distance, then close it. You are not vain for asking.”
“...I'm not?"
He regards you for a moment. You are sure you would accept anything he said to you right now. You think that's too much power for a man to have.
With a flush of heat that feels too endearing, he calls your name and gently, gently wipes away the salt under one tear-swollen eye.
“Do you really think it's selfish to want to spend time with us?" he asks. "You must think I'm quite the narcissist."
You laugh genuinely this time.
“Oh, you're the worst. Who camps inside someone's room like that? And you didn't even share the tangerine…” It should be giving you whiplash, how fast he's turned the moment around like this. Truthfully, you've never felt more free in weeks, the great weight of burden gone with the track of his thumb across your cheek.
And he smiles at you all the same, brighter than the full autumn moon and not a lick of frustration with you.
"My apologies,” he assumes an affected tone, looking at you with easy kindness, too much warmth. “I intended to help you feel better. Clearly, it didn't work. Next time, I'll bring two tangerines."
“Just bring yourself," you say, and feel the heat on your cheeks go from zero to defcon stupid. "Right, anyways, goodnight.”
Your name again. If he keeps saying it like that, you'll boil from the inside out.
“About tomorrow…” about when they leave, he means.
He swallows, clenches his jaw. Shifts his eyes from your face to where his hand had rested moments ago.
“Just because you are separated does not mean you are alone." He whispers. “Come to my room tomorrow before we leave. Let me show you.”
Liu Kang meets your gaze once more.
“...please, let me show you.”
And then he’s gone.
Later, when you tuck yourself into bed, your futon feels more plush than you remember it being. Dinner sits warm in your belly, and the balmy fall sky continues to wander lazily outside the window, steady compared to the squall in your mind.
My room. Let me show you.
Please.
You have never had a man beg you - would never expect a god to. Liu Kang has blurred those lines at every turn. You know that, now. After your time with him tonight, you promise to see him as he is, no pedestal, not separate from the others. As a friend. You hope he feels the same.
With a reverence you did not have last night, you turn to blow out the candle that hosted those moments that changed you, and pause.
Next to your mother’s locket is a perfectly peeled half of a tangerine.