Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bell above the door rang as he pushed the door open. The scent of fresh produce and rich broth filled his lungs as Red Son entered Pigsy’s Noodles, a smell that was quickly becoming familiar in the fire demon's life.

He strode inside confidently and looked around. Customers at this hour were not uncommon, but it was empty enough that Red Son felt comfortable. Tang was already jabbing his chopsticks into a bowl while reading a book, and Pigsy behind the counter, wiping down counters as the day neared its end. The pig demon looked up to see who entered, then snorted.

"Let me guess, the usual?" Pigsy asked, already reaching for the chili oil and a bag of tea leaves.

"The usual." Red Son confirmed with a curt nod. "On second thought, how about even more spice than normal?"

"Fine, but you'd better pay for the extra spice." Pigsy grunted but complied, preparing the order immediately. 

The first time he visited for noodles, Pigsy nearly threw him back out on the street. But Red Son offered a fabulous tip that not even Pigsy could turn down. Their enemy-turned-ally had been a regular ever since, as long as he swore not to use fire in his precious shop.

As Pigsy finished cooking and gave Red Son his food and tea, The shop’s door swung open again as MK entered, tossing keys onto the counter. His hair was a mess, even more than usual, and his brown eyes were dulled with exhaustion. He plopped onto a barstool with a heavy groan.

"Rough day, kid?" Pigsy slid a steaming bowl of his favorite noodles in front of his delivery boy.

"Yeah…" MK sighed, throwing his head on his arms.

Red Son expected a loud, excitable greeting as per normal, followed by a ridiculous joke or flamboyant rambling. Instead, MK didn’t even glance in his direction. He just stared into his bowl, fiddling with his chopsticks with a blank expression. It was odd.

"You seem more insufferable than usual, Noodle Boy." Red Son said in between sips of tea. "What’s troubling you this time?"

"Creative slump. I have this big project, but everything I try just… Flops." MK muttered, propping his head on his hand. "I’m so stuck."

"That is all? You are truly wallowing over something so trivial?" He scoffed. "You're better than this, Noodle Boy."

"I know." MK hummed "It’s just… frustrating."

Red Son prided himself on efficiency and overcoming obstacles, stagnation was not something he tolerated. He had felt the effects of burnout before, but he had clever ways to push through it when taking a break wasn't an option. He tapped his fingers against the table as an idea formed.

"You require a muse."

"Huh?" MK blinked at him, lifting his head slightly.

"You heard me. If inspiration eludes you, then clearly, you need a superior subject to reignite your artistic spark. I will allow you the honor of using me as your muse."

"Wait, seriously?" MK sat up slightly.

"Indeed." Red Son gestured to himself. "I'm quite informed in the arts, so why waste time sulking when a solution is right in front of you?"

"Oh?" MK stared at him, then cracked a small, tired smile. "That’s actually kinda nice of you."

"Hmph." Red Son huffed, crossing his arms. "Do not mistake my generosity for sentimentality. We are allies now, it's only practical to assist one another, is it not?"

But as MK straightened up, already looking a little more energized, Red Son found himself pleased with the reaction. There's the Noodle Boy he knew. He hadn't even begun to help and his endeavors were already a success in cheering him up. He was truly a wonderful ally, solving problems by merely existing.

Red Son was aware that he was exceedingly photogenic. Artists have literally lined up to capture his image. He knew MK was a talented artist, and he wouldn't mind sitting still for a few hours if it meant the Noodle Boy would stop moping. He had endured hours of sitting for professional painters, sculptors, even those eccentric fashion photographers his mother occasionally hired. If he could manage that, then surely whatever MK’s little art project was, it would be a cakewalk.

He himself was a poet and a brilliant inventor. He understood what creative burnout felt like. He had wrestled with his own frustrations before. The feeling of being stuck, of ideas slipping through his fingers like sand, it always hung in the back of his mind, always wary that it would resurface again at the worst possible time. It was always so hard to do anything, which he really didn't need when he had work to do. So, yes, he pitied MK. 

The gratitude MK was now showing was almost embarrassing. He practically lit up, happily eating his noodles. Once they both finished, he led Red Son upstairs to his apartment, bounding the stairs and motioning for him to follow.

He had been in MK’s apartment before, always noticing the clutter of art supplies, opened sketchbooks, and random scraps of lined notebook paper filled with half-formed sketches alongside important notes. And then, of course, there was the strange display on the walls. There was the usual artwork, but also various musical instruments. Guitars, basses, wind instruments, and a fancy-looking keyboard pushed against the far end of the room, connected to a strange device that resembled a DJ's soundboard. Red Son never questioned them. He had assumed they were decorative, just another one of MK’s odd artistic choices. They were likely fake, since instruments cost a pretty penny, and a noodle delivery boy realistically shouldn't be able to afford most of these.

He turned to ask how MK wanted him to pose, and suddenly, a guitar was thrusted into his hands. Red Son stared down at it in utter bewilderment, fingers curling awkwardly around the neck and the six strings. It was heavier than expected, with the shiny polished wood being smooth against his palms. 

"What is this for?" Red Son lifted the guitar, trying to figure out how to properly hold it. "Do you want me to pose with this?"

"You're my muse, congrats!" MK grinned, grabbing a bass guitar from the wall. "But I also want to hear what you've got!"

Of course, he knew about the instruments MK owned. He had seen them a hundred times. But he had never given them much thought, never bothered to question why MK, an artist, had an entire collection of musical equipment. Were all of them real after all? 

MK had always been a mystery to Red Son. Apparently, there was much more to him than he had ever realized. Red Son scowled at the instrument in his hands, fingers tracing along the frets with blatant unfamiliarity.

"Sooo… can you play?" MK, still grinning, threw the shoulder strap over his head, holding the bass and resting his hands over the four thick strings.

"Do I look like I play instruments?" Red Son sneered, putting the guitar down on MK's bed. "Obviously not."

"Oh." MK said. "You're, like, really smart, I guess I just thought you might know how."

"My mother once attempted to enroll me in lessons." He admitted. "But I had no interest. Science, engineering, those were my passions, and she wisely allowed me to pursue them instead. I fail to see how this is relevant to-"

He paused. Wait. His mind moved like clockwork, piecing the situation together. MK had been grumbling about artistic burnout. Red Son had assumed that meant painting or sketching, but if that were the case, why did he hand him a guitar? And why was MK holding a bass?

"This project of yours…" He said slowly as realization hit him. "It is not a painting, is it?"

"Nope." MK confirmed, absentmindedly plucking the strings. The bass was unplugged and hardly made a sound. "There's a music festival coming up, I enter every year, that's why this is super important to me!"

Red Son stiffened. His face heated slightly, though he would never admit it. His assumption had been wildly incorrect. He had envisioned himself seated before a canvas while MK immortalized his image. Instead, he was given a guitar, an instrument he had no idea how to play, while MK stared at him expectantly.

For a split second, the thought of backing out flickered through his mind… But he refused. He was Red Son, the son of the Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan. He did not retreat from a challenge.

"Very well, Noodle Boy. If I cannot play, I shall contribute in another way."

"Oh yeah?" MK raised a brow. "How?"

"Lyrics." Red Son smirked, regaining his confidence. "I am a poet, after all. I should easily be able to handle the lyrical aspects of your song."

"Wait, you write poetry?" MK’s eyes widened slightly. 

"Obviously. A mind as refined as mine cannot be limited to mere mechanical pursuits. My artistry extends to the written word."

"Okay, that I gotta see."

"Then prepare to be astonished, Noodle Boy." Red Son huffed, crossing his arms. "How different can it be from poetry?"

"Uhh… Very?" MK shot him a look. "They do go hand-in-hand, but there's a whole lot more to it."

"Rhythm, structure, emotion, these are all elements of poetry. Songwriting is merely poetry sung out loud." He smirked. 

"You sure talk big for someone who’s never written a song before."

"I thrive under challenge." Red Son declared, sitting on the bed and throwing one leg over the other.

"Alright, if you say so." MK giggled.

"If I am to contribute to this endeavor, I must first gauge your skill level." He gestured toward the instrument in MK’s hands. "Play something."

"Eh?" MK looked at the red bass. "You wanna see what I can do?"

"I prefer to be prepared."

"Prepared for what?"

"Just play, Noodle Boy."

"Heh, alright."

After plugging the bass into an amp, MK adjusted his grip. His left hand formed a triangular formation on the neck while his fingers in his right hand got in position. And then, without hesitation, he started plucking the thick strings. The first note resonated deep, rich and steady. His fingers moved smoothly along the fretboard, each pluck of the strings carrying a natural rhythm. And Red Son watched, utterly transfixed. MK, the most goofy, carefree person he's ever met, played with a confidence and precision that caught him completely off-guard. The way his fingers danced over the strings, the sheer ease of it all like it was no big deal-

At that moment, he realized that he had greatly underestimated MK.

MK caught the way Red Son's eyes widened and the subtle shift in his usually smug, arrogant expression. Oh, this was good. Grinning, he decided to kick things up a notch. He had just been playing simple chord progressions. If he was impressed now, he was in for a real treat.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, MK shifted gears. His fingers snapped against the strings in a quick, percussive slap, sending a punchy note out from the amp’s speakers. To MK's pleasure, Red Son jumped, not expecting the sudden sound. MK played a few more slaps, then followed it up with a walking bassline. His hand glided across the fretboard, each note flowing into the next perfectly. MK lost himself in the music, he was never able to keep still while playing. He swayed slightly as his muscle memory took over. He knew he was good, he had spent years honing this skill, but seeing Red Son’s stunned silence made it all worth it.

Eventually, he let one last note ring out and looked up, grinning. Red Son stared back at him. Then, after a beat, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, attempting to settle his expression back into indifference.

"Didn’t expect me to have skills, did ya?" MK wrinkled his nose with amusement.

"It's baffling, to say the least." The fire demon replied, though his tone was just a little too forced. "I can work with that."

"That's all?"

"Fine. You are… Beyond adequate." Red Son growled, looking away. 

"You can admit you’re impressed, y’know."

"I admit nothing!" Red Son huffed, looking away. 

A deal was set. They would meet every night after finishing their respective work. MK was thrilled, mostly because he found it hilarious that Red Son was willingly stepping this far out of his comfort zone for him.

"You sure you’re up for this?" MK teased, sitting next to the fire demon on his bed, setting the bass aside. "I mean, I can sometimes get pretty intense when it comes to music, I may act differently from what you're used to."

"Please, I have engineered complex machinery, devised brilliant inventions, and mastered the art of poetry. This is merely another challenge, one I will conquer with ease."

"Uh-huh. We’ll see about that."

Red Son ignored him, already running through a mental checklist. If he was going to take part in this endeavor, he would excel. That meant preparation, research, and unfortunately, that also meant spending a lot of time with MK.

"This is gonna be fun!" MK cheered as if he could hear his thoughts

Red Son rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. A glance at the clock told him it was getting late. With a sigh, he pushed himself up from his seat.

"I will return tomorrow, just like we agreed."

"Okay, see ya!" MK chuckled.

Red Son strode to the door, but he paused at the threshold, glancing back. MK was already back to plucking at his bass again, humming something. Something about it made Red Son hesitate. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting himself into. But for some reason, he didn’t mind.

If only he knew what he was truly in for during the coming months, and how both their lives would be changed forever.

Chapter Text

The following evening, the air was crisp with the promise of a new challenge, or perhaps, just a new headache for Red Son. MK had insisted they visit his favorite music store to help Red Son get into the musician mindset, whatever that meant. Red Son had scoffed at the notion. He didn’t need any sort of mindset change, especially not for something as trivial as music. He had poetry, and that was plenty creative. Still, he followed MK out of curiosity once they approached the fancier part of the city.

As they approached the store, Red Son couldn’t help but glance up at the sign. It was clear this place was designed for the elite, with its sleek, polished windows and intricate gold-trimmed doors. The store was nestled in the heart of Metropolis, a part of the city that screamed wealth and refinement. Red Son could almost taste the luxury in the air. Now THIS was more his style.

Mei was supposed to join them, but of course, her parents had held her up for whatever reason, or at least, that's what she claimed. Red Son was left to endure the ordeal alone with MK, who was clearly enjoying himself far too much, probably because they hardly ever went out together.

Inside, the atmosphere was quite lively for a fancy establishment, filled with the sound of dozens of instruments being played by eager customers, closely watched by the observant employees. Red Son’s eyes scanned the vast space, taking in the glittering guitars, polished pianos, brass instruments glinting under the soft lighting, and various other musical oddities he could hardly name.

"Here we are!" MK said, his voice filled with excitement as he guided them toward a row of sleek electric guitars. Red Son was less than thrilled. They should be writing, not sightseeing. Why were they even here?

"I still don’t see why I needed to venture out, I’m perfectly capable of writing poetry without instruments, that's your job."

"Trust me." MK replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "You’ll see."

Before Red Son could protest further, he found himself being dragged along by MK, who was already rifling through various guitars. The whole shop smelled like wood and fresh strings, and Red Son couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place. MK, meanwhile, was having the time of his life, testing out different guitars and pianos. We waved to an employee, and they waved back. They must know MK to let him freely mess around. 

Bored, he picked up a music book and looked through it, only to be stunned by what was inside. The music notation was confusing. lines, dots, and a seemingly random arrangement of symbols. He stared at it in confusion. What was this mess? It looked like a series of cryptic codes, some kind of language he couldn’t even begin to understand.

"What in the hells is this?" He growled, gesturing to the strange symbols on the paper.

MK looked over with a classical guitar in hand. He strummed a few chords with ease, clearly in his element, speaking even while playing.

"It’s sheet music. You’re supposed to read it."

"This is music? It looks like a bunch of lines and dots thrown together randomly."

"That’s where you’re wrong. It’s a language of its own." He slid beside the fire demon, looking down at the symbols and began playing what was written. "Every dot, word, rest, symbol, every sharp and flat, it all tells you something about the sound you’re supposed to create."

Red Son glanced back at the cover of the book, and something caught his eye, and something didn’t sit right.

"Wait a second," He muttered, "Isn't this supposed to be for bass guitar? And aren't you playing a different guitar?"

He looked up at MK, who was still focused on the dots on the page. MK, not even bothering to stop, let out a carefree laugh. 

"Yeah, but I already knew what it was for." He strummed a few more notes before looking over at Red Son with a grin. "See, it says it at the top of the page, doesn’t it?"

Red Son blinked, then glanced at the top of the sheet music. Sure enough, there was something written there, with bass guitar written in bold letters. but it didn't really help him at all. 

"Wait, what does that mean? Does it matter?"

"Well, they’re different instruments, and there are important differences for sure, but I can transpose between them. A clef just assigns what pitch belongs to each note. When transposing a clef, I just pick up or lower the pitch... Actually, it's not that easy but you get the point, right? 

Red Son’s head spun for a moment as he processed the words, trying to wrap his mind around the strange jargon MK had just thrown at him. 

"Transpose? Clef?" 

MK chuckled at Red Son’s confusion, but instead of mocking him, he seemed genuinely amused. 

"Think of it this way, every instrument has its own range of notes it can reach and is assigned a clef that best suits it. The bass guitar reads in bass clef, and the classical guitar that I'm playing reads in treble clef, which is a higher pitch, all I gotta do is shift the notes in my head. This way, I can play bass parts on a treble clef instrument, or vice versa. And that, my friend, is called transposing! You get it now… Right?"

"And you're telling me that you just know how to do this just by looking at it?"

"Pretty much." MK grinned like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"I don’t even-" Red Son paused, shaking his head. "This is ridiculous. How do you even keep track of all that?"

"I've been drawing and playing instruments ever since I learned how to control my hands enough as a kid. And hey, once you get the hang of it, you don’t really think about it anymore. It just kind of happens. I bet I can't understand half of the fancy lingo engineers like you use!"

Red Son didn't reply, he was too busy trying to hold his entire world together.

He had known MK for a while now, long enough to be familiar with his loud, excitable personality, his reckless optimism, and his, frankly, idiotic tendencies. MK was a delivery boy turned hero, a guy who threw himself into battles headfirst without a plan and figured things out along the way. A guy who messed up constantly and somehow stumbled into victory regardless.

And yet, here he was, casually rattling off advanced musical concepts that made Red Son’s brain hurt.

Red Son had always assumed MK was… Well, basic, and maybe a little naive. Not stupid, per se, but certainly not someone who operated on the same intellectual level as himself. MK fought with instinct, not strategy. He had heart, but he was a ticking time bomb for disasters.

But now, Red Son was forced to reconsider everything he thought he knew.

MK wasn’t just playing around, he was good, BEYOND good. Red Son could recognize that this was the kind of skill that came from years, possibly decades of dedication. MK spoke about it with the same ease and enthusiasm that Red Son spoke about engineering, as if it were an extension of himself, as if it were the most obvious concept in the world.

It wasn’t obvious to Red Son. It wasn’t obvious at all.

He felt his pride take a sudden, unexpected hit. Since when did MK have talents outside of drawing, stuffing his face with noodles, and annoying him? Since when did he have a mind sharp enough to analyze music like it was a second language? And why… HOW had Red Son never noticed?

"So what, you’ve just been hiding this from everyone?" He scowled, more defensive than he meant to be. "You’ve been able to play instruments and I’m only finding out about this now?"

"Uhhhh… Yeah?" MK blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. "I mean, I didn’t think it was a secret or anything. I just do it because I like it, I didn’t think anyone really cared besides close family."

Red Son did not like how that sentence made him feel. Because no, he hadn’t cared about MK's interests before. He hadn’t even thought about what the Noodle Boy liked. But now that he knew, now that he had seen firsthand just how effortless MK made all of this seem, he couldn't stop thinking about it. What else didn’t he know about MK? What other skills had the Noodle Boy casually picked up that would send Red Son into another crisis? Had MK just been quietly excelling at things this whole time, while Red Son had written him off as an energetic fool? His ego hated the idea that he had underestimated him. He would have to watch him more carefully from now on.

"Yup, I’ve seen enough." Red Son announced.

But before he could make his escape, MK grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him toward a shiny grand piano sitting near the back of the store. It was by far one of the more expensive things in the store.

"Come on, you can at least try something. I mean, look at this thing! You’re telling me you’ve never wanted to play a piano?"

"I have no interest in making music, Noodle Boy. My talents lie elsewhere."

"Aww, you're no fun!" MK teased, nudging him forward. "But I bet you’ll look pretty cool sitting at that piano. It's very elegant, just like you, it's the perfect match!" 

Red Son glared at him but couldn’t quite ignore the tempting allure of the instrument. It really was elegant. The polished black surface gleamed under the lights, begging to be played.

"Fine." The fire demon sighed. "It wouldn't kill me to check it out."

With reluctance, Red Son sat at the piano, lifting his hands to the keys. He hesitated, unsure of what to do. With a reluctant breath, he pressed a key at random. A note rang out, crisp and clear. He pressed another, then another. The weight of the keys beneath his fingertips was oddly satisfying, like something held on on a string, bounding back up when he lifted his hand away. He experimented further, pressing different combinations, testing how some sounded together. 

"See?" MK grinned, leaning on the piano's side. "You’re already making progress. Go ahead and place your foot on the petal to the right, press it down, it'll sound cool!"

Red Son did as MK suggested, and stepped on the petal underneath. When he did, something large moved inside. Now, whenever he pressed a key, the notes stayed even after he lifted his finger.

Red Son stayed seated, watching as MK wandered toward another section of the store. The fire demon eventually got bored and followed out of reluctant interest. When he caught up, MK was looking at an array of fancy cases.

"What are you doing now?"

"Lookin' for reeds."

"Should I even bother asking questions anymore?" 

"This!" MK, completely unbothered, pulled out a small case and opened it, revealing a thin piece of wood. "You need one to play a bunch of woodwind instruments. Gotta keep it wet, though, otherwise, it won’t vibrate right."

"Wet?" Red Son wrinkled his nose. "Like with water?"

"Yeah, either water or spit." MK confirmed cheerfully.

"That is vile." Red Son recoiled as if he had been physically struck. "Remind me never to touch any instrument that requires a reed for the rest of my life."

"Suit yourself, I need more. Mine are starting to crack." MK giggled and picked up a few of them, mumbling to himself, debating on getting medium, hard, or soft.

They continued browsing for a little longer, but Red Son’s patience was wearing thin. He wanted to start the song already. Enough of this musician mindset nonsense.

The moment MK paid for his items, Red Son was already waiting outside, taking off in a swift stride while MK burst out laughing, following after him without hesitation. They were silently walking back. It was getting late, so they likely wouldn't have much time to start writing, how frustrating.

Then, just as they were a few streets away from the shop, MK pulled out one of his new oboe reeds, put it in his mouth, and blew. A high-pitched, atrocious duck-like sound drilled into Red Son's ears. When he snapped around to glare, MK had already hidden it, innocently looking at some fancy windows of a clothing store. But the moment the demon prince looked away, MK grinned mischievously and did it again. Red Son spun around immediately before MK could hide it again.

"STOP THAT!"

"What? You don’t appreciate fine music?" MK cackled, weaving out of reach before Red Son could grab him.

Their voices carried through the street as they ran, one laughing while the other swore vengeance. People had to jump out of their way as they raced down the pristine streets.

And, no, they didn't even get to start in the song that night, and MK found a new way to annoy Red Son.

Wonderful.

Chapter Text

A new day, a new disaster.

Red Son approached the building, already catching the warm scent of broth and spices lingering in the air despite the shop being closed for the night. The place was empty, quiet except for the soft, melodic sound of a flute.

MK sat at the bar, the dim glow of the hanging lights casting long shadows across the counter. He had a pretty bamboo flute in his hands, fingers moving fluidly over the holes as he played. He swayed slightly, chest jumping every time he took a deep breath. Red Son had never seen him so focused before, so calm.

He almost felt bad when he knocked on the glass door. MK was startled, nearly dropping the flute before glancing toward the door. When he saw Red Son standing outside, he grinned, hopping off the stool to unlock it. The bell above rang as he opened it.

"Hey! Are you ready for tonight?" He stepped aside to let Red Son in, locking the door behind them. "Actually, first, do you want some noodles?"

"No thanks." Red Son shook his head. "I already ate."

For just a second, so fast Red Son almost missed it, MK’s expression fell. It was brief, barely a flicker of disappointment before he replaced it with an easygoing smile again. Red Son probably just imagined it.

"Hah-hah, well, more for me then!" MK said, walking back behind the counter, grabbing something before quickly rushing to the fridge and opening it.

Red Son narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing. Instead, his gaze flicked back to the flute on the counter.

"I was unaware you also played classic eastern instruments. I can recognize a dizi when I see one."

"Yeah, this one’s special, though. It’s the first instrument I ever learned how to play." He closed the fringe and walked over, running a thumb over the smooth surface of his flute. "Mr. Tang got it for me when I was a kid just to give me something new to try out."

"So, instead of using it to practice for our collaboration, you are simply messing around before I arrived?"

"I was messing around because I'm trying to find a melody! I've got one that's been stuck in my head all day."

"Good." Red Son stood by the door that led upstairs. "In that case, perhaps we can finally make progress."

MK turned off the lights and led Red Son upstairs. Once in MK's room, Red Son takes out a notebook he had been carrying. While he made himself comfy on the bed, he watched as MK retrieved several used orange medicine containers with names and prescriptions scratched out. He popped their lids, and stuck a reed inside before pouring lukewarm water over them.

"Ugh, You mentioned that before, how could I possibly forget." The fire demon cringed, looking away. "Do you have to soak these filthy little things in order to play? EVERY time?"

"Mhmm, yup." MK hummed in confirmation as he gently swirled the containers. 

"And the old spit? It just… Don't tell me, it stays on there?"

"You don't notice it, it's fine!"

"That is NOT fine, it’s repulsive!"

MK just snickered and grabbed an unusual-looking instrument from off the wall. Red Son had to do a double take. Unlike the other woodwinds he had seen MK play, this one was odd. It looked like a long, mahogany-colored tube folded in two, connected by silver keys and mechanisms. It was larger than most wind instruments MK possessed, and MK was handling it with particular care, which gave Red Son the hint that it was likely expensive.

"Mind telling me what that thing is?"

MK ignored him for a moment, plucking the large double reed from the water and attaching it to a bent metal mouthpiece that curved toward him.

The moment he blew into it, Red Son’s entire body went rigid. A deep, warm wooden tone vibrated through his bones, resonating within his body with a playful bounce. It wasn’t quite as sharp as the oboe’s piercing sound nor as gentle as the flute. It had a certain nasal quality, almost like someone pinching their nose while speaking. But it carried a rich, mellow depth that was strangely pleasant and homely.

Red Son was baffled. The instrument’s bizarre appearance and equally bizarre sound were unlike anything he had heard before. It was ridiculous, but was enjoyable nonetheless.

When MK finally stopped, he turned to find Red Son staring.

"Oh." MK said, shuffling his feet. "I, uhh- I kinda forgot you were here for a second."

"This bozo." Red Son grumbles out the corner of his mouth.

"It’s called a bassoon, by the way." MK giggled.

"A weird name for a weird instrument." Red Son scoffed. 

Oh well, time to get to work. He thought it wise to warm up with some basic rhymes. He wrote about fire, a subject he had already written many poems about. It was a subject he knew intimately, one he had already crafted countless poems about. Poetry came naturally to him, and he expected songwriting to be no different.

"Alright," He said, sitting up straighter, "I believe I have our foundation."

"Oh, already?" MK placed the bassoon back on the wall before skipping over to sit next to the fire demon. "Let’s hear it!"

Red Son cleared his throat, reading aloud with the poise of a seasoned poet.

"Flick a match, watch the embers fly, 

See it grow with rage.

Watch the flames, bright in the night,

See it grow with spite-"

"Alright, hold up." MK interrupted, cutting him off. "That’s cool and all, but… We’re writing a song, not just a poem."

"This is art, Noodle Boy." Red Son scoffed.

"Yeah, but maybe try making it, I dunno, singable?"

"It is singable."

MK grabbed his acoustic guitar from the stand next to the bed and strummed a basic chord progression, humming along to the words. He got halfway through before stopping with a grimace. 

"Yeah, no. It doesn't work with my style, sorry."

"Then we simply restructure it." Red Son hissed through his sharp, gritted teeth. 

"Exactly!" MK nodded enthusiastically. "I like the first line a lot, how about following it up with 'Didn’t mean to start it, but I won't lie.'"

"That lacks the depth and grandeur of my original verse." Red Son flinched, but even so, wrote it down at the bottom of the page.

"Maybe, but it fits better. Songs have a flow, y’know?"

They went back and forth, Red Son fiercely defending the integrity of his poetic structure while MK kept throwing in suggestions that, while technically simpler, actually worked.

It was infuriating.

MK had no regard for the careful balance of words, switching them out at the last second, improvising entire lines out of nowhere. At some point, Red Son smacked his pen down onto the notebook. 

"Do you ever stick to a single idea?"

"Eh, I mean, sometimes. But music’s about feeling it out! If something sounds better in the moment, why not change it?"

Red Son pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. This was going to be harder than he thought. He scowled at the notebook, tapping his pen furiously against the page. No matter how he structured it, no matter how precise his wording, it never seemed to fit the way he wanted. He loathed this, this feeling of struggling against something that should be simple.

MK, seemingly sensing his distress, stood up.

"Hey," He sighed, "maybe you just need to shake off some of that frustration. Try playing something instead of writing."

"And how do you expect me to do that?" Red Son shot him a glare. 

"I saw you messing with the piano at the music store." MK motioned toward the keyboard against the wall. "You liked pressing the keys, right?"

"…What of it?" Red Son hesitated. He had found it oddly satisfying, but he wasn’t about to admit that. 

"C’mon, I’ll teach you some simple chords, there's plenty of famous musicians out there that don't read notation, you just need to understand the instrument!" MK made one of his happy monkey noises and grabbed his acoustic guitar. "It’ll help clear your head."

With great reluctance, Red Son sat at the keyboard. MK showed him a few basic chords, and Red Son was surprised by how easy it was. As long as he played these particular notes, he'd be set. When MK started strumming, the keyboard blended pleasantly with the sound of MK’s guitar.

For a moment, Red Son allowed himself to enjoy it, but that moment quickly ended when MK started strumming in a different rhythm.

"Okay, now match my timing."

Red Son tried, he really did. But no matter how quickly or slowly he pressed the keys, he kept missing the beat. MK, for all his chaotic tendencies, had a frustratingly effortless sense of rhythm. When MK paused, the fire demon demanded him to keep going.

"Wait, don't stop!" Red Son growled, starting over. He refused to be outdone. "Start over!"

But no matter how many times he attempted to sync up, he remained a fraction of a second off. It was beyond infuriating.

"You’re overthinking it." MK said. "Just feel the beat!"

Then, Red Son slammed his hands onto the keys, producing a loud, discordant noise that made MK jump and quickly cover his sensitive ears. 

"I'm feeling it… And it FEELS like FAILURE!"

Red Son clenched his fists, trying his best to keep his hair from flaring up into a wildfire. He hated this, he hated feeling incompetent, hated how he was struggling in front of MK of all people. But even through his frustration, he couldn’t ignore how annoyingly patient MK was.

With a deep breath, Red Son scowled at the keyboard. 

"Again."

Red Son barely had time to react before MK appeared beside him, talking in his ear.

"Here, like this."

Before Red Son could protest, MK’s hands found his, eagerly guiding his fingers across the keyboard. Red Son tensed at the contact. An exasperated retort was on the tip of his tongue, but it died the moment MK adjusted his grip and spoke again.

"For the most basic time signature, just count to four in your head, then restart. Press a key on each beat, count in your head and tap your foot to it. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four…"

MK's hands were warm and a bit smaller than his, rough with callouses from years of labor, yet oddly soft as they pressed against Red Son’s skin. There was a confidence in the way MK moved, a masterful understanding of the instrument that made his guidance feel effortless.

"These shapes?" MK murmured, nudging Red Son’s fingers into a new position. "They’re, like, the building blocks of a ton of different chords, you'll be able to make thousands of combinations. Once you get the hang of it, you won’t even have to think about where your hands go."

Red Son was only half-listening. His attention had drifted elsewhere, mostly to the strange sensation brushing the back of one his hands. Something rough, but not quite calloused. Subtle, but undeniably there. His gaze flickered downward to MK's right hand.

A scar. A deep one, running between MK’s thumb and pointer finger, and carving its way across his palm, gracing the top on the fire demon's knuckles. Now that Red Son was looking closer, he noticed more faded lines criss crossing along MK’s hands, each different in shape and texture. Some were barely noticeable, while others stood out. Each one had its own unique feeling as well.

He had so many… From what? Fighting? Accidents? Or something else entirely? Red Son had scars, but not nearly this much. He was curious, he wanted to ask and look closely at each one, but that would undoubtedly be considered rude.

Red Son tried to focus on MK’s instructions, to absorb the lesson without letting his mind wander. But then MK leaned in even closer, his bangs, long and ridiculously soft, brushed against Red Son’s cheek. A strange jolt shot through him, like the flicker of a spark that hadn’t quite grown into a flame. He tensed up and his breath hitched.

"I-" Red Son’s brain latched onto the first excuse it could conjure. "I just remembered, I have to fix the oven for my father."

MK blinked, confused for only a second before stepping back, completely unaware that the demon prince was just moments away from exploding.

"Oh, uhh, sure! See ya around!" He moved aside, waving goodbye as Red Son practically fled toward the stairs.

The bell above the noodle shop’s door chimed as he stepped outside. He stood outside for a moment more to catch his breath.

After a few minutes of silence, a new sound floated down from upstairs. Red Son recognized the sound of a trumpet. Now alone to play as loud as he wanted, MK blasted a flurry of jazzy notes that seeped through his window onto the night streets.

The dim-witted Noodle Boy, who tripped over his own feet, who wasted hours doodling, who acted as though he had a singular brain cell bouncing around in his skull… He was actually better than Red Son. Perhaps he really hadn’t given MK enough credit.

And yet, that wasn’t what unsettled him the most. Red Son flexed his fingers, staring down at them. He could still feel the ghost of MK’s touch and still remember the warmth of his hands, and the brush of numerous old scars, especially the large one that sliced through his right hand. It made him… Uneasy? Disturbed?

Why was he still thinking about that?

Chapter Text

The next night, Red Son sat stiffly at MK’s desk this time, tapping his fingers against the wood. Across from him, MK laid on his bed, lazily strumming an acoustic guitar while jotting down potential lyrics in a battered notebook whenever ideas struck. Their usual session had begun, but Red Son found himself distracted.

He couldn’t stop glaring at MK’s hands. It made no sense. They were just hands, calloused from years of hard work, scarred from past battles, always moving, always creating. He had seen them a thousand times before, yet now, suddenly something about them bothered him. He was especially drawn to the largest scar, the one on his right palm. It made him anxious. There's absolutely no reason a scar should make him anxious.

He didn’t understand it, and he wasn’t about to waste his time dwelling on it. Instead, he forced himself to focus on their work. They had finally settled on a theme. Fire was a subject Red Son knew best, one that came as naturally to him as breathing. He had written countless poems about it, and now, but shaping those words into something that fit MK’s chaotic, freeform approach to songwriting was proving to be more difficult than expected.

As he scribbled out yet another rejected line, MK suddenly piped up.

"So, those music lessons your mom put you through, what was that like?"

"I don’t remember much. Red Son barely looked up. "It was brief, I quickly found my love for inventions before I got too deep."

"Did she, like, make you learn piano or something?"

"No, of course not." Red Son said, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. "The guqin."

"Wait, really? That’s so cool!" MK perked up with a giddy smile painted across his face. "Mei actually knows how to play, she often plays solos in a popular orchestra. She's better than me at it!"

"What?" Red Son froze mid-stroke. "Mei?"

"Yeah! She’s crazy good! We often practice duets together, her on the guqin and me on my dizi. It's how we first became friends, back when we first started playing our instruments together many years ago."

The Dragon Horse Girl was also musically gifted. How wonderful. But if that were the case, why on earth did the Noodle Boy ask him for music assistance when his best friend already knew about it?

"Fascinating." Red Son grumbled before grabbing his pen and redirecting his focus back to the lyrics.

MK let out a long sigh, tossing his own notebook onto the bed. 

"This isn’t working."

"Perhaps if you actually listened to my structuring-"

"No, no, it's not you, it's just- Ugh!" MK sat up. "Hang on, maybe I just need to hear it out loud."

Before Red Son could protest, MK propped his notebook on his favorite Monkey King plush and grabbed his guitar, playing a chord progression with a playful strumming pattern, humming a few melodies before settling on one.

And then… He sang.

Red Son wasn’t prepared.

"Maybe it’s danger, maybe it’s fate,

Maybe we’re standing too close to the gate."

The moment MK’s voice filled the room, warm and melodic, something in Red Son’s chest fluttered. It wasn’t just that MK could sing, but the way his voice carried emotion so effortlessly, how it gave weight and meaning to each and every word they had struggled over for hours. Every note was clear, and every phrase alive with feeling.

This wasn’t the bombastic, infuriating hero that Red Son always argued with. No, he was focused, expressive, and intoxicatingly sincere.

In that moment, Red Son forgot to breathe.

"Maybe this fire’s not meant to die,

Maybe we burn, or maybe we fly."

Red Son had learned MK was musically inclined, sure. He’d seen him play so many instruments by now, coming up with new melodies, and sometimes humming to himself while working on their lyrics. But singing? That was something Red Son hadn’t expected. Who was he kidding? MK had said he needed the song for a festival! Why hadn’t it occurred to him that MK might be the one performing it?

"Should I walk away, should I put it out?

But something inside wants to see what it's about."

When MK finished, he glanced up at Red Son, completely oblivious to the internal whirlwind he had just caused. He remained in his spot, smiling cheerfully. Red Son blinked, caught in the lingering sound of MK’s voice. For a moment, his brain struggled to catch up. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his mind was too scrambled, so he responded the only thing he could.

He crossed his arms and scoffed, pretending to be unimpressed. 

"Are you done now?"

But even as the words left his mouth, they felt terribly wrong. Red Son knew it wasn’t about the song. He didn’t care about the festival or the lyrics. It was that voice, the way it had dug into his ears and made his heart beat a little faster than it should. It was such a stupid thing to feel nervous about. He didn’t say much after that, unable to form a coherent response. He couldn’t allow himself to. If he said anything more, he was afraid something else would slip out that he didn't intend. Instead, he shoved his thoughts down, deep into a place where they wouldn’t escape. He focused on what he knew. He could critique, argue, literally do anything else to distract himself.

MK’s expression faltered for a brief moment, a subtle disappointment flickered across his face. Red Son didn’t miss it this time, but he didn’t know how to respond. Instead, the fire demon forced his gaze back down to the lyrics, pretending the feelings in his chest weren't there.

MK shook it off quickly, though. With a shrug, he began softly speaking to himself.

"Okay, so these lines could fit right here… And maybe the chorus should come after this bit…" He was speaking more to the paper than to his guest, but Red Son could still hear the hurt in the way MK’s voice trailed off, a tad forced.

Red Son was never good at apologies, he always made it worse when he tried. So he didn't bother, and let the guilt punish him instead.

They continued working in silence once mode. Red Son tried to focus, but all he could think of was MK's singing. His chest tightened every time the memory replayed in his mind.

MK. Can. Sing. The thought replayed over and over, louder with each passing second.

And worse... He liked it. Too much.

Red Son clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He had to stop thinking about MK like that, had to ignore the strange fluttering in his stomach every time MK’s voice echoed in his mind. It wasn’t just the song, it was... Something else, something more confusing than anything Red Son had ever felt. He felt hot on the inside instead of out. What was happening to his body heat? It's supposed to be at a careful equilibrium, he's trained for years to keep it perfect, it was so frustrating!

MK hummed absentmindedly as he scribbled in his notebook, completely unaware of the effect he was having. Red Son tried to focus on the words in front of him, but his gaze kept drifting, first to MK’s hands, tapping lightly against the paper in rhythm, then to the way his lips parted slightly as he shaped each note. Something unfamiliar fluttered inside him. And the more it happened, the worse it got. It was physically painful. This was bad, it had to be. Good emotions didn’t make his chest feel tight and didn’t make it hard to think, didn’t burn his insides.

He had no idea what it was.

Red Son left early that night. The next few days passed in a blur. The fire demon found himself far too aware of MK. The way he laughed, the way he absentmindedly plucked at his guitar strings, the way he scrunched his nose when deep in thought. It was unbearably painful, and Red Son believed he must be coming down with a strange illness.

So he did what any reasonable person would do, he started cutting their time together short.

The excuses came naturally. Father required his assistance. He had an important project to complete. He must attend to urgent matters between him and mother. But as the days dragged on, Red Son found himself scrambling for reasons that even he barely believed.

MK didn’t question it at first. But as their sessions grew shorter, the disappointment in his brown eyes became harder to ignore.

Red Son told himself this was the right choice. That distance was necessary. That the strange, unwelcome feelings stirring inside him would disappear if he simply stopped indulging them. He concluded that it wasn't an illness, but something specifically to do with MK. And yet, no matter how much space he put between them… He missed MK. But he couldn't be near him, because it hurt constantly.

Tonight, he couldn't think of a good excuse. He had to face the music, literally.

As Red Son stepped into the shop, the bell above the door greeted him. MK had started leaving it unlocked for him. He sat at the bar, but before he could even properly settle in, a steaming bowl of spicy noodles was shoved under his nose.

"Here, you're here early." MK said, standing across the bar. "You can eat."

Red Son scowled, glancing at the dish. He hadn’t eaten all day, but the moment he stepped into the shop and into MK’s space, the now-familiar nausea crept in. His stomach twisted, rejecting the very idea of food. Still, it was rude to ignore a gift. But then again, it would be worse, and infinitely more embarrassing if the nausea actually got the better of him. So he merely pushed the bowl aside, refusing to look at MK at all. In fact, he hadn't looked at him since he entered the shop.

"You've been leaving early a lot lately." MK chirped in a teasing manner. "Almost like you're… Avoiding me or something."

Red Son stiffened, keeping his expression neutral. 

"Preposterous." The demon prince scoffed, still looking away. He felt sick, but at least his heart remained calm. "I'm not feeling like myself lately. It's nothing to worry about, it's likely a small illness. I wouldn't want you to catch it."

It was meant to be a dismissive answer, but the moment he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough.

Then, Red Son heard… A sniff? It was short, just a brief inhale. His eyes darted up, just in time to see MK's nose scrunch slightly while his gold-speckled eyes narrowed. A long, fluffy tail flicked behind him, lashing from side-to-side.

MK was in his monkey form… Why?

Red Son barely had time to process that realization before MK spoke.

"You're not lying."

Red Son was caught off guard. Could MK actually sniff out a lie? Was that some kind of ability he hadn't accounted for? If so, then he was in trouble. 

"Did I do something?" MK asked suddenly, cutting through his thoughts. His claws tapped the countertop. There was no longer a teasing tone in his voice, and no relaxed grin. "If you don’t wanna work on this anymore, just say it."

Red Son panicked.

"NO!" He exclaimed, the singular word escaped before he could think, causing the monkey to jumpin place.

He did want to keep working on it, and he wanted to keep being around MK. He was conflicted and constantly hurting just being near MK, but even so, the fire demon wanted more than anything to stay.

"It’s not you." He finally declared, forcing himself to meet MK's unique eyes. "It’s my own problem."

MK squinted at him, clearly not convinced. Then, much to Red Son’s horror, he leaned in closer and sniffed the air again.

MK’s monkey traits made him nervous, as much as he hated to admit. The last time he had seen MK in this form was during a visit to Flower Fruit Mountain with Mei, the Noodle Boy had just about scared the life out of them. MK had been faster, stronger, and completely in his element, moving through the trees and making some of the most horrific sounds imaginable with his voice and teeth. The monkey had tricked his friends into thinking they were being stalked by a monster. Now, he felt like he was being hunted all over again.

Eventually, though, MK relaxed. His expression eased, and in a flash of golden light, his tail, claws, fur, and mandarin facial marking vanished. 

"Okay." MK said, backing off. "Just try to eat something, alright? I'll be upstairs."

And just like that, he was gone.

Red Son exhaled sharply, tension draining from his stiff muscles. But the relief was short-lived as he sat there, staring at the bowl of noodles in front of him. He begrudgingly picked up the bowl and sipped some of the broth to shake the encounter from his mind.

He had come dangerously close to saying something he wasn’t ready to admit yet.

And, somehow, he had no idea what it was.

Chapter Text

It was the next night.

All was calm… Except for the rumbling snores that echoed through the halls of the fortress. Red Son laid in his bed, glaring at the ceiling as his father’s loud, thunderous breaths rattled through the walls. The Demon Bull King fell asleep outside his bedroom, and Red Son couldn't deal with it. He had tried everything. He buried his head under pillows, practiced meditation, put on music or Mei's stream vods, and even worked in his forge in an effort to tire himself, but nothing he did helped.

With a frustrated grumble, he sat up, running a hand through his long red hair, not bothering to tie it up. It was late, nearly midnight, and yet sleep refused to come. Before he could think twice, he reached for his phone on the bedside table. His fingers twitched over the screen for a moment before he pressed the call button.

It barely rang twice before MK picked up.

"Red Son? Hey, what’s up?"

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" He blurted out before he could stop himself. This doofus answered so quickly, was he awake as well?

"Yeah? And?" MK laughed, his voice gruff and groggy, like he had just been dozing off. 

Red Son scowled, gripping the edge of his blanket. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Of course MK didn’t even hesitate.

"My father fell asleep outside his quarters, and his snoring is impossible to ignore. I haven't been able to sleep, and I figured..." He trailed off, unsure how to phrase it without sounding desperate. "Perhaps we could work on the song. 

It's quiet in my forge, but it's not a good place to nap. We can work there."

There was a beat of silence before MK responded, his voice noticeably more awake. 

"You wanna write? Right now?"

"Yes, do you have an issue with that?" Red Son huffed, crossing his arms even though MK couldn’t see him.

"Nah, not at all! I just thought you'd want to come to the shop like we usually do."

"You can travel faster than me with your cloud, although you wouldn't have your instruments."

"Oh, that's no problem! If I need instruments, I can just use my hair to magically make some. So, what do you think? We can write until you doze off, I've slept a good bit already, I can stay up a little longer."

Red Son considered it. The forge was quiet at this hour, with nothing but the steady flicker of flames keeping it alight. It wouldn’t be the worst place to work. And, strangely enough, the idea of MK being there didn’t seem like a bad one, even though the Noodle Boy had a talent at wreaking havoc on his possessions.

"...Fine." He muttered, trying to sound reluctant, even though something in his chest eased at the thought. "I'll turn off the security, enter through my window and you should be fine."

"Awesome! Be there in a sec, byeeee!" MK said cheerfully before he hung up.

Red Son let out a long breath as the call ended, then turned toward one of his windows, opening it up. The fortress’s glow flickered against the volcanic rock below, casting long shadows even across the distant desert in the moonlight. Next, he disabled a portion of the security system.

Despite the late hour, he decided he needed to look presentable. He pulled on a fresh set of clothes, smoothing out any creases, then grabbed his brush. His hair was already down, but there was always one stubborn knot at the back of his head he could never quite reach. His mother would usually help him, but she wasn't there to lend her aid this time. He wrestled with it furiously, gritting his teeth as the brush caught and refused to move.

Then, he heard a giggle. Red Son’s head snapped up to see MK perched on his windowsill, grinning as he swung a leg over the edge. 

"Are you losing a fight with your own hair?"

"No." Red Son scowled. He yanked the brush again, and it got properly stuck. "...Perhaps."

"Want me to help?" MK hopped down, crossing the room in a few skips.

"Oh, yes, because you are clearly an expert in hair care, good luck."

It was meant to be a sarcastic comment, but before he could blink, a flash of gold light engulfed MK. The fire demon barely had time to process before MK was behind him, gently moving Red Son's hands out of the way. Claws combed through his hair, already starting to untangle the knot with little effort.

Red Son sat there, completely still, caught by surprise. MK’s hands were as warm as he remembered. Each careful stroke of his dangerously sharp claws sent a strange, shivery sensation down Red Son’s spine. He should have pulled away and protested to high heaven. But instead, he sat there as MK worked, unable to stop thinking about those hands again. Were the scars on his arms still there, even underneath a layer of fur?

Within just a few minutes, MK backed off, nodding in satisfaction and handing Red Son his brush back. 

"There! Good as new."

Red Son slowly turned, still trying to process what had just happened. MK, completely unaware of the internal crisis he had just caused, beamed at him with a goofy smile full of sharp teeth.

Red Son had just been groomed like a monkey.

The fire demon pretended like the entire incident never happened, forcing his focus away from the strange fluttering in his chest. Oh, right, he was supposed to be avoiding moments like these. He quickly glanced at MK’s right hand, specifically the deep scar between his index and thumb. There was no fur there. The marks still stood out, and it held his attention for a moment longer than he intended.

With a slight shake of his head, he got up and motioned for MK to follow. 

"Let’s get to work, c’mon, this way."

The moment they left the room and entered the long hallways, MK laughed as he walked behind him. 

"You weren't kidding, it's so loud! No wonder you can’t sleep."

They depended down a flight of stairs and guided them deeper underground. Red Son stepped forward to unlock the door to the forge, using his hand to scan the biometric lock. The system beeped and the heavy doors slid open, revealing the vast space beyond. There was a rest area in the corner with basic amenities and comfortable furniture.

MK scuttled in behind him, still in his monkey form. His dark fur glistened as he moved in the red lights. It was somewhat hard to keep track of his form as it partially blended in with the shadows. As MK playfully jumped around the room, exploring everything with wide eyes. And for some reason, Red Son didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. They settled into the corner of the forge on a sofa while Red Son set down a stack of empty notebooks on the low table. The ambient heat from the molten metal nearby created a strange sort of coziness, casting the space in a soft, reddish-golden glow.

With pens in hand, they worked late into the night, fine-tuning the song. Their usual banter was still there, but something had shifted, what was once just playful teasing had grown into something more natural and comfortable. Red Son found himself lingering on MK’s laughter, noticing how it filled the quiet spaces between their conversations as they started to get along better. There was something frustratingly infectious about the way MK got excited over the music, the way his energy made even the most tedious edits feel engaging.

But then Red Son became painfully aware of his own feelings, and suddenly, it wasn’t comfortable anymore. It was terrifying. And MK was making it worse. Every time he adjusted his position on the sofa, he inched a little closer. Every time he leaned over to point something out in the notebook, their shoulders brushed. It was completely unintentional, but it was also completely unbearable. The monkey's tail twitches constantly, often bumping against the prince's leg.

Red Son always overreacted, stiffening under the contact. He snapped at MK when he got too close, brushed off compliments, and generally made himself as rigid and unapproachable as possible. MK, undeterred, simply kept going, lost in his own enthusiasm. Red Son, on the other hand, sat there, gripping his pen and notebook like a lifeline, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart kept beating.

It was a dull ache, buried somewhere deep in his chest, thudding harder every time he thought of MK. It wasn’t irritation or anger, emotions he understood, he could handle those. But this was something else, something foreign and unwelcome. Not only did it feel strange, it was painful. It squeezed his ribs against his lungs, made his throat feel too tight, and his insides too warm. He despised the way his pulse stuttered when MK laughed. His breath struggled up and down his windpipe every time those bright, gold-speckled eyes met his own.

More than anything, he hated that he didn’t know why this was happening. This was wrong! Emotions weren’t supposed to feel like this, like a spark dangerously close to spilled oil. He needed to make it stop. He needed distance, needed logic, needed literally anything other than the unbearable heat creeping up his spine. This inferno of feelings was too much fire, even for him.

MK leaned back on the sofa, tilting his head at Red Son, as if intently listening to him.

"Okay, what’s up with you?" He asked, nudging him lightly with his elbow. "You’ve extra weird tonight. Am I… Making you uncomfortable or something?"

"No!" The fire demon snapped, a little too quickly. "It has nothing to do with you, remember what I said last night?"

MK squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. 

"Yeah, I remember, but… Are you absolutely sure? You keep flinching every time I get close. If I’m making you feel bad, you gotta tell me, okay?"

Red Son’s heart slammed against his ribs, loud enough that he was sure MK could hear it with his sensitive ears. He scrambled for an excuse, latching onto the first thing that came to mind. 

"I- I’m just frustrated about something, that’s all, just like I said before."

MK’s nose twitched, and Red Son nearly froze. Ah, that's right. MK could tell when people were lying. But after a moment, MK shrugged, apparently buying it. 

"Yeah, okay, that checks out." He chirped, stretching his arms behind his head and leaning back. "You are always kinda frustrated with this stuff. Don't worry, you'll get it! Haha, Maybe you should take a deep breath before you explode or something, I'd hate to clean you up off of your own walls!"

It was meant to be a joke, but something about the way MK said it caught Red Son off guard. Before he knew it, laughter rang out from his own throat, surprising even himself.

"Whoa, are you laughing?" MK’s eyes widened at the sound before he broke into a beaming grin. "Are you finally gonna admit that I'm funny?"

"Hmph!" Red Son scowled immediately, trying to backtrack. "Don’t flatter yourself, Noodle Boy. It's unsightly to gloat."

But the damage was done. MK’s delighted expression lingered, and despite himself, Red Son felt the tightness in his chest ease just a little. He still didn’t know what was wrong with him, why being around MK made his thoughts spin and his pulse race. It briefly changed when MK cackled with laughter, the painful feeling released its hold, giving way to something… Pleasant?

But that was a mystery for another night.

After another hour, Red Son’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute. His thoughts become more sluggish, leaving him unable to write any more. He craved sleep, but he couldn't do it here. The forge, as familiar and quiet as it was, wasn’t meant for napping. He had made a personal rule never to pass out in this place. A while ago, whenever his parents found him here, they’d assume he was overworking himself... And they'd always be right. They’d get annoying about it, nagging him to take better care of himself, to rest properly, to not push too hard. And Red Son had no desire to deal with that.

"I refuse to sleep here!" He complained, barely keeping his head up. "If my parents find me, they’ll… Ugh, lecture me."

"Oh no, a lecture." MK snickered beside him. "How terrible."

"No, you don’t understand!" He slurred, already halfway gone. "They’ll hover around me for the next few days!"

"Yikes, even my dads wouldn't do that!" MK laughed, amused by his predicament.

"Mhmm, sure." 

"Just go to sleep, I'll be fine. I promise."

Red Son wanted to snap back and argue properly, but he was too far gone. His body felt so heavy and comfortable to fight it anymore. His eyes slid shut, and the world around him faded into a quiet hum, and for a split second, before he fully succumbed to sleep, something strange happened.

He felt as if he were being lifted, his body weightlessly floating upward. His head tilted back slightly, and he relaxed into whatever, or whoever, was holding him. A soft chuckle broke through the haze of his sleepy thoughts, although he could be dreaming by now and imagining it. His mind was too cloudy to process much more than the strange comfort washing over him, like being held without a care in the world.

But before he could fully grasp what was happening, the sleep took over completely, and everything went dark into a dreamers slumber.

…

When he woke up late the next morning, he was tucked into a blanket with his head on his pillow. His red hair spread across the surface, covering his face.

There was a faint, familiar scent in the air that reminded him of citrus and the ginger root his father liked to cook with. He blinked, still drowsy, trying to piece things together. He was in bed, but… Hadn't he fallen asleep in the forge? He thought back to the scent. It was on his cheek, close to his nose. He deduced that his father must've been the one to carry him back, probably just done cooking something. He'll have to endure a lecture again, how lovely.

But later that day, when he asked his father if he was awake last night, the bull demon said he slept all the way through. His mother said the same thing. Not even the bull clones had anything to report. Then… How did Red Son end up back in his room? The only explanation was sleepwalking, like his body knew how much trouble they'd be in if he napped in his workspace.

…But that still didn't explain the scent.

It was a stupid thing to obsess over, really. His mind wandered back to the comfort he felt the moment he had drifted off. The softness, the warmth, the quiet presence that had been so familiar, yet unlike anything he’d ever known. 

Could it have been… 

No, that idea was off the table. It was just his imagination, a mix of sleep-deprived delirium and the fact that MK had been way too close the night before. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to let his thoughts wander. But then, as quickly as they came, he dismissed them. There were more important things to focus on.

He exhaled, forcing himself to push the question from his mind. If he thought too much about it, it would only make things more confusing, and Red Son couldn’t afford that right now. It was time to get to work.

"Next time," He growled to himself, "I'll just stay awake all night."

With a sigh, he moved on to his next task, pushing his complicated thoughts aside.

But deep down, one theory still remained.

And he didn't know if he wanted it to be true or not.

Chapter Text

Red Son stepped into the shop, ready for another session. It had been a long, frustrating day, one spent chasing down theories he refused to believe, only to push them aside altogether. He wasn’t going to waste any more energy on it. Whatever happened last night didn’t matter.

MK greeted him with his usual excitement, holding the door open before disappearing behind the counter. A moment later, he reappeared with a small bowl of spicy noodles, sliding it across the counter toward him.

“Here ya go!” MK said, leaning against the counter with a kind smile. “Extra spice, just how you like it.”

Red Son muttered a thanks, taking the bowl as he settled into his favorite seat. He picked up the chopsticks but hesitated for a second too long. His eyes flickered to MK’s hands, his calloused fingertips, short nails, and the various scars. But there was that one scar between his index finger and thumb that somehow captured his attention, That one in particular always bothered him. Why? He forced himself to look away as heart pounding against his will. Oh, great, here it comes.

“So,” MK started, watching him with curiosity, “You look less grumpy than usual. That means either you finally had a good night’s sleep, or you finally gave up trying to figure out how you got back to your room.”

Red Son nearly choked on his first bite. HOW did he know? 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmmmmhhhmmmm… Sure.” MK hummed, followed up with a small giggle.

Red Son glared at him but said nothing, focusing on his food instead. He had already decided to let it go, there was no point dwelling on it. But as MK chuckled and went upstairs, Red Son caught himself glancing at his hands again as he retreated. And that was a much bigger problem, he can already feel the sickness creeping up on him.

Red Son set his chopsticks down with a quiet clink against the ceramic, pushing the empty bowl aside. He stood up and climbed the stairs to the small apartment above the shop. When he opened the door, MK was seated at the corner of the room, playing random chords on the keyboard. He had changed into his monkey form, tilting his head side-to-side as he carefully listened to the notes. When the fire demon entered, MK turned his head.

“I was thinking.” MK said, flashing a toothy smirk. “We should focus on fine-tuning the instrumental part tonight and take a break from writing. How does that sound?”

Red Son nodded in agreement, flipping open a notebook filled with notes on music notation. He had been dedicated to learning how to read the dots on the lines to make MK's job easier on his end. It was tedious, but necessary if they wanted to finish it quickly.

As MK pressed down on the keys, absentmindedly testing chords, he started humming. Softly at first, then with more confidence. It was their song. Red Son, absorbed in deciphering the symbols on the page, didn’t think before humming along. The lyrics sat in his head, and they slipped past his lips unconsciously. He wasn’t a singer, that wasn’t his role, but the song had been running through his mind for days. It was catchy, could you really blame him for this earworm? 

Then, MK started harmonizing. And instead of humming, he sang.

"Flick a match, watch the embers fly,

Didn’t mean to start it, but I won't lie."

Red Son stopped humming. He only heard MK sing once before, and it was just as magical as last time. He was just as awestruck. His focus snapped away from the music notation in front of him, drawn entirely to MK’s voice.

"Should I walk away, should I put it out?

But something inside says I have no doubt."

When MK finished, the last note lingered between them. Red Son realized, with dawning horror, that MK was looking at him. Not just looking, but watching. And worse, there was something soft about his gaze, almost fond.

Horrified and suddenly nauseated, Red Son turned away so fast his hair nearly sparked, only barely remembering the promise he made to the piglet about no fire in the shop. His heart pounded against his ribs as he willed himself to stay calm. This was nothing, it was just music, it didn’t mean anything.

…But just as he forced his attention back to the notebook, he could’ve sworn he heard MK whimper when he looked away. Red Son pretended he didn’t hear it. He refused to hear it. MK wouldn't whine over something so trivial.

Instead, he gripped his pen and forced his eyes back onto the notes and symbols in front of him, trying to ignore how dizzy he felt.

"Sounds good, now let’s just get back to work." The fire demon said stiffly.

"Uh, yeah, sure!" MK chirped.

He spun back to the keyboard, but Red Son didn’t miss the way he fidgeted, fingers tapping an awkward rhythm on the keys before he actually played something.

They fell back into silence, both working on their respective work, doing anything to pretend they weren’t ridiculously on edge. At some point, MK got distracted trying to give the keyboard reverb and accidentally switched it to some random, extremely loud pipe organ setting, scaring himself and nearly jumping out his seat with a startled screech. His puffed up fur earned a begrudging snicker of amusement from Red Son. 

Slowly, the awkwardness faded into something familiar again. By the time the clock ticked to nine o'clock, they were back in sync, heads bent over the music, MK’s leg bouncing to an unheard beat, Red Son’s foot tapping along despite himself, trying to get in the habit of following along.

When the clock struck ten, MK stretched and yawned.

“Alright! It's ten, find a good stopping point for tonight. Hmm… Once we finish this, we should totally perform it together!”

Red Son, who had just finished scribbling something in his notebook, stiffened. His pen pressed a little too hard against the page, and Red ink bled through.

“…What?”

“C’mon! The music fest’s coming up! It’s why I started writing this song in the first place, remember? I gotta defend my title as reigning champ.” MK tail wagged. “And you should be up there with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aww, but why?”

“Because,” Red Son snapped, “I am not a performer. Writing is one thing, but standing in front of a crowd? Playing an instrument? Singing? You could just forget it now.”

“You wouldn’t even have to sing if you didn’t want to!”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” MK groaned, “It’s not like-”

“I said no.”

MK pouted. Then, a familiar mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. 

“What, are you scared?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean-” MK teased, his gold-speckled eyes glistening like confetti. “it kinda sounds like you’re being a little frightened to try it!"

Red Son glared. His hair sparked just a little before he forced it down.

“I am not a coward.”

“Then prove it.”

“NO! And that’s final!” Red Son slammed his notebook shut. “If you’re so determined to perform, do it yourself.”

The words came out sharper than he intended. MK flinched at the noise. Then, slowly, his grin faded. His shoulders slumped just a bit. 

“…Maybe I will.”

His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even defensive. It was… Quiet. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then shrugged. 

“Guess I’ll just have to finish the song alone.”

Red Son’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t a real threat. MK wasn’t mad. But that sadness, however small, bothered him. And for the life of him, he didn’t know why. Red Son clenched his jaw. He hated that look. MK wasn’t angry, wasn’t pouting, wasn’t even teasing anymore. He just looked disappointed. Like Red Son had taken something important and stomped on it.

He wanted to snap back, to tell him to stop being so dramatic. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all he could do was stare at MK as he sat there, gaze fixed on the clock, fingers drumming absently against the keys.

"Tch. Whatever." Red Son exhaled sharply and looked away. He knew MK well enough to tell when he wasn’t actually mad, just… Hurt.

And somehow, that was worse.

MK didn’t say anything. He just nodded, like he’d already expected that answer, still staring at the hands on the clock slowly tick by. Red Son gritted his teeth. He despised when this happened. He hated the arguments, the silence, and especially the way MK wasn’t looking at him. He had expected some kind of comeback or another joke, but instead, all he got was quiet acceptance. And somehow, that made him feel like the biggest idiot in the world.

“Well, uh… I should probably start cleaning up downstairs for tomorrow's shift.” His voice was forced to be casual. “Thanks for helping out again.”

Red Son wanted to say something, anything, to fix whatever just happened. But his stupid pride kept the words lodged in his throat.

“See you later.” MK turned toward the stairs, grabbing a ukulele from off the wall.

The way he said it, gently but distant, it made something tighten in Red Son’s chest. He barely managed a nod before MK disappeared downstairs, leaving him alone.

Red Son sat stiffly on his usual spot in MK's bed, pretending not to listen as MK went downstairs. MK's voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual confidence. It wasn’t bad, far from it, but there was something missing. The usual cadence that blew Red Son away was severely lacking. The ukuleles cheerful and upbeat only made the loneliness more obvious.

MK didn’t need him to make songs. That much was clear. He really could finish the song alone, and he could perform alone, just like past music festivals. But for some reason, the thought of MK standing on that stage, singing their song by himself, didn’t sit right with Red Son.

He sat up straighter, huffing. Fine, if MK was going to perform with or without him, then Red Son was going to make damn sure the song was perfect. He would write the final verse they had been struggling on and concur that issue once in for all. He’d stay up and work, he could at least do that much. And maybe, maybe, he could even figure out how to play one instrument, just in case.

Red Son unlatched MK's window and opened it, teleporking his belongings back home with a flash of fire outside with more force than necessary before sinking down with his knees buried in the mattress.

Just like he promised to himself, he didn't think about last night. He had already decided that he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter how he’d gotten to his bed. It didn’t matter that neither of his parents had done it, even if it was strange they didn't say anything about it. It didn’t matter that there was a strange scent he didn't recognize. It didn't-

His hand stilled. MK’s signature yellow jacket was still draped over the bed, having been tossed there at the beginning of the session. The sleeve was closest to him, and his fingers twitched. He hesitated as an idea struck him. It was beyond stupid. 

…But it was right there.

Glancing quickly at the door, Red Son swallowed his pride and reached out and pinched the fabric between his fingers. Carefully, he lifted it closer. And then, before he could talk himself out of it, he took a quick sniff.

Citrus. Ginger.

He jerked back, quickly dropping the jacket back into place. His heart pounded at the images and ideas forming in his head. MK had touched him, had held him, and had been close enough that his scent still lingered on Red Son’s clothes and skin when he woke up. Red Son stood up abruptly, swallowing hard, shoving the thought deep, deep down where it couldn’t reach him.

By the time MK returned to his room, Red Son was already at the door. MK let him go without a word, back to grinning, waving his tail as Red Son left. But it felt different. Red Son knew the truth now. He knew exactly what had happened.

MK had carried him to bed last night.

MK. Had. Carried. Him.

Not his father, not his mother, and not some strange, inexplicable act of sleepwalking.

MK.

His mind was an inferno, grasping for some logical explanation, some way to make this not mean what it obviously did. 

But there was nothing, because now, there was undeniable proof. MK must've taken Red Son's tired ramblings to heart. He must've listened to how his parents worried about him if he fell asleep in the forge and brought him back to his bed, sparing him a lecture.

Red Son needed to make it up to him.

Chapter Text

Red Son barely acknowledged the grand, imposing halls of his family’s fortress as he stormed inside. His mind was already elsewhere.

He was zoned in on the song, on proving his dedication, on anything other than the sickening swirl of emotions that had followed him home. By the time he reached his private study, he summoned his notebook, slamming it onto the desk, and flipping to a fresh page.

This wasn’t about him. This was about the project.

His lit cinnamon-scented candles, and the light flickered as he wrote. He didn’t overthink it like he usually did. He let the words come to him, like MK suggested. If he wrote from the heart, the perfect words would appear.

He began the cursed verse they had been stuck on, he would turn it into one that meant something.

Fire and ambition. A force that drives, that pushes forward, that demands to be acknowledged. Sparks that grow into something powerful, beautiful, and sometimes dangerous if you ignore it. 

He knew it well. The way it burned, the way it consumed his entire life if he let it. There was a reason his parents worried about him overworking himself. He wrote without stopping, the ache in his chest flaring and subsiding with every word that was jotted down. He had to pause briefly as a sudden storm of neasusa washed over him, making him lean over a trash can for a solid five minutes. 

By the time he finally leaned back, hand aching, the page was full. And for the first time since leaving the shop, the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. 

The sun rose, casting a warm glow through the curtains, and Red Son groggily rubbed his eyes, blinking at the realization of what he’d just done. He had spent the entire night writing about ambition, specifically about the dangers of letting it consume you, only to fall straight into the same trap.

Whoops.

Falling asleep in the forge was one thing. He refused to pass out in his study, slumped over a desk like some insomniac scholar. His parents would definitely scold him, and MK's efforts to avoid that would go to waste.

With great effort, he pushed himself up from his chair, his legs protesting as he staggered toward his bed. His head swam from exhaustion, and nausea still lingering at the edges of his senses. As soon as he collapsed onto the mattress, the tension in his body eased. His eyes slipped shut almost instantly.

For once, he didn’t dream of fire. Instead, he found himself in a lucid dream, standing in the middle of a garden.

The air was thick with the sweet, tangy scent of ripe mangoes and lemons, their fruits heavy on the branches, just waiting to be plucked. Rows upon rows of flowers stretched before him, their petals the warm, breathtaking hues of a rising sun. 

Far in the distance, towering above the garden, was a dormant volcano. Its peak was calm, silent, but the land around it was lush and vibrant, rich with life that seemed to thrive effortlessly. The volcano’s presence was undeniable, but there was a quiet majesty to it, powerful yet restrained, offering support without demanding attention. It could erupt at any time, but chose not to.

The warmth from the sun on his face felt comforting, and the gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the sounds of distant calls of wildlife and the hum of life all around him. He could almost feel the soil beneath his boots, fertile and welcoming, as if inviting him to stay and be part of this incredible world.

As he wandered further through the garden, he noticed the sound of rustling branches above him. Monkeys dropped from the fruit trees, landing lightly on the soft ground. Their eyes were wide and curious, watching him intently, chattering softly among themselves. The little fluff balls seemed to be drawn to him, hopping from tree to tree or staying by his side or behind him on the ground, following his every movement eagerly. Their chirps and calls were not hostile, but inquisitive, like they were trying to ask him a question. 

The chattering grew more urgent, as if they were trying to communicate something important. They jumped from tree to tree, hopping around him, circling him. Their chirps were no longer just inquisitive, they seemed to be a plea of sorts. But Red Son, lost in his confusion, couldn’t understand their language, and couldn’t offer them the answer they sought.

Their calls turned softer, more sorrowful, and one by one, they retreated, fading back into the branches and disappearing from his sight. He watched them go, a quiet sense of loss settling in his chest, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

His gaze lifted to the horizon, where the dormant volcano stood, towering over the wilderness. It was smoking, faint wisps of black curling into the golden sky. Red Son’s chest tightened, his heart skipping a beat as he stared at the smoking peak. That wasn't there before. Something felt dangerously close to tipping, like any moment it would erupt and burn and destroy everything around it.

And then, with a start, he woke up.

The light filtered through his window, and the remnants of the dream. Its warmth, its confusion lingered in the back of his mind. Confused, Red Son ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the feeling. 

He spent the whole day contemplating the dream and any meaning at all. Sometimes, dreams were the most basic, primal form of emotions. It can be your fears, ambitions, or pleasures. Yet he couldn't come up with any explanations.

The day passed, and the clock struck eight. The sun was down, and it was time to go.

Red Son barely hesitated before standing, pushing aside blueprints for his next invention. His parents had checked in on him earlier, their concern evident when they saw how pale he looked. He had simply told them he felt sick. It wasn’t a lie, his head ached and his stomach churned constantly, and something in his chest still felt off. He burned hotter than normal, which was the worst symptom.

But none of that mattered. It was time to visit MK.

When he arrived at the shop in a flash of fire, something was immediately off. The usual light was on, but MK wasn’t at the door waiting for him. And for the first time since they started this entire mess, there wasn’t a fresh bowl of spicy noodles waiting at the bar.

Before he could think anything of it, he heard a faint sound of singing. Or more like… Sing-yelling?

Red Son tensed. That wasn’t normal, not at all. He strode to the fire escape, climbing it. As he reached the second floor, he noticed the window was cracked open, but not fully. The hinge was still latched, like it was supposed to be shut. He hesitated only briefly before moving closer, straining to listen.

MK’s voice carried through the night, he could recognize that incredible voice from anywhere. But something was wrong. Red Son couldn’t understand the lyrics.

It took him a second to realize why. It was monkey language. Red Son knew barely enough of it to catch a few scattered words, but that was it. He didn’t understand the song, but he could hear it in MK’s voice, this wasn’t a happy song. Red Son struggled to pick out the words he did recognize. They were few, but none of them were good.

"Lost."

"Alone."

"Why?"

The last word was repeated a lot. Red Son didn’t know if it was the language barrier or something deeper, but it made feel guilty.

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it, the fact that the same person who pestered and teased him relentlessly was now singing like someone who had lost something important. Or maybe it was because, deep down, some part of him believed that he was the reason MK was singing this.

Gripping the edge of the window sill, he debated leaving and pretending he never heard anything… But there's no way he's going back home, not after staying up all night working on their song.

Red Son climbed back down the fire escape. Landing on the ground, he dusted himself off and strode toward the front door. He knocked, waiting. No answer. His chest ached more. Was MK ignoring him? A small spark of irritation flared up. So he was just going to sing like that and then leave Red Son out in the cold? No! He wasn’t going to let that happen. He yanked his phone from his pocket and called MK.

The ringing barely lasted a second before the singing stopped. Good… But MK didn’t pick up. Instead, there was a loud thud, followed by hurried footsteps, and then a crash that sounded suspiciously like porecein getting smashed into bits. Red Son’s eyes widened. What was this idiot doing?

MK finally appeared in the shop in his monkey form, nearly tripping over himself on the last few steps of stairs. The lock clicked, and the door burst open. MK skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over his own feet, fur a mess, and eyes wide with mild panic. 

"Hey! Sorry! I, uhh- Kinda got caught up in music and lost track of time!"

Red Son stared at him. Slowly, he exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. 

"Hmph. Only you, Noodle Boy."

“Yeah. My bad.” His eyes darted toward the counter, realization dawning before going off on a ramble. “Wait, I didn’t make your noodles, huh? OH! I do have leftovers, though! I made it myself, and It’s one of my favorites! Creamy chicken with a bit of soy sauce. There's a lot left, do you wanna eat together? I haven't eaten yet.”

"Very well." Red Son rolled his eyes but didn’t hesitate. "But only because I also haven’t eaten.”

Red Son stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. MK busied himself in the kitchen, humming under his breath. Red Son leaned against the counter, watching as MK grabbed two containers from the fridge and poured the contents in a pot before turning the heat up on the stove.

“So," MK started, tapping his claws against the counter and not meeting his gaze, "What’s up?"

"I finished a new verse for our song."

"Wait, really?" MK’s gold-speckled eyes lit up, finally making eye contact. "No way, that’s awesome!"

The timer on the oven beeped. MK quickly pulled out two ceramic bowls, and poured noodles in both. He grabbed some chopsticks, and handed one pair to Red Son and passed on the bowls.

“C’mon," MK said, jerking his head toward the stairs, "Let’s eat upstairs since we're late. Besides, I wanna see this new verse as soon as possible!"

Red Son nodded, following him up. He didn’t say it, but he was looking forward to seeing MK’s reaction.

They settled on the floor of MK’s room, bowls on the low-set coffee table. The creamy chicken broth was rich, the soy sauce adding just the right amount of depth. Red Son had to admit, MK knew his flavors well. It wasn't a hint of spice on the noodles in the slightest, but it was just as flavorful and enjoyable.

For a few moments, they just ate, neither speaking. MK slurped his noodles loudly, completely unbothered, while Red Son made his move.

“This is pretty good.” Red Son admitted after a while, stirring his chopsticks through the broth.

“Right?" MK perked up. "It’s my second favorite.”

“Second?”

“Nothing beats Pigsy’s cooking, and I love when he mixes noodles with seafood like shrimp and fish, the monkey in me must've been talking even before I discovered I was one." He giggled before taking another bite. “Y’know, I was kinda surprised when you actually agreed to eat with me.”

"Well, I'm hungry, and I enjoy your cooking."

MK purred at the compliment, it was a sound Red Son was still getting used to hearing. Monkeys didn't purr, but for some reason, he's heard that only the demon monkeys descended from an ancestral group that originated from Flower Fruit Mountain did. A special group that made it their home thousands of years ago. There wasn't many these days, but there used to be hundreds of thousands of them long ago. Red Son knew about MK's origin as a stone monkey, and apparently those rules also applied to him as well.

He also knew about the growing population of demon monkeys that recently returned back to the mountain after centuries, and it was mostly due to MK's efforts. It was admirable, really, MK was really willing to help anyone with anything. It was another reason the fire demon felt dedicated to writing this song, mostly because MK wasn't the type of person to rely on help from others. It was a miracle MK asked for help at all, and Red Son's help, of all people.

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t awkward. But, for once, it was comfortable. Red Son found himself relaxing, like the argument from last night never happened. Even after everything, sitting here, eating with MK, felt oddly natural.

Eventually, right after Red Son finished his meal, MK slurped the last of his own noodles with a satisfied sigh, setting his empty bowl aside. 

“Alright! Time to see this verse you hyped up so much.”

"Got it." Red Son rolled his eyes but stood up. He fully unlatched MK's windows and reached outside, summoning his notebook. They sat on the bed as he flipped to the right page before handing it over to the monkey demon.

He presents the newly written verse to MK, who took it eagerly, eyes scanning the lines. Almost instantly, his grin widened into a baffled smirk.

“Ohhh, so… This is a love song now?”

After MK said it, Red Son was confused at first, but as he looked over the lyrics again, he was mortified. He hadn’t realized until that moment how romantic the lyrics sounded.

“The burn, the rush, the heat on your face,

Deny it all you want, but it’s set in place." MK sang, tapping the page. "This is totally about falling for someone!”

…It was?

Red Son had been so focused on the imagery, on making it perfect, that he hadn’t even realized. He snatched the notebook back, scanning the lines he had poured over all night. Fire, ambition, and passion, just like he intended. He had written it about himself and his own emotions, about his relentless need to push forward and prove himself.

So why did it sound like this?

"It’s NOT a love song!" He insisted, his hands clenched around the notebook.

"Sounds like someone’s in denial." MK wiggled his eyebrows with a mysterious grin.

Red Son’s hair almost flared, but he bit his tongue and forced himself to take a slow breath. He would not set this building on fire for a second time. Last time, it was for a key, there was absolutely no way it would explode again over this foolishness. 

"It is a metaphor for ambition." He said through gritted teeth. "Nothing more."

“Oh, I guess it could be like that… Buuuut…" MK leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand, smirking. "Are you sure you're not hiding something? Do you have a secret crush?”

“It’s a metaphor, Noodle Boy- A METAPHOR!” he snapped, immediately snatching the notebook back, face burning hotter than his own flames, clutching it to his chest like MK might try to steal it again. “Like I already said, it's for ambition, and maybe passion! It is not- It is NOT about that!”

“Hey, I’m not judging, I'm just messing with ya!" MK cackled madly, taking a deep breath and wiping tears from his eyes. "And honestly? It can be about all of those things, we can write it in a way where listeners can interpret it as both! Also, love songs tend to win the most awards. I’ve never written one before, so it could be fun!”

Red Son stared. MK just… Accepted it?

He Didn’t even question it, he just casually suggested they turn it into a full-on love song like it was no big deal. Red Son, meanwhile, was on the verge of a complete meltdown. The gods must be testing him, because now, every single time MK sang those lyrics, he was going to think about him.

…

Later that night, after leaving MK's apartment once the session ended, Red Son sat in his study, staring at the lyrics in front of him. His own elegant handwriting mocked him, each line a reminder of how blind he’d been to the meaning behind his own words.

A love song.

MK’s teasing voice echoed in his head, and the fire demon scowled, rubbing his temples as a headache thudded. That wasn’t what he meant when he wrote it. 

His eyes drifted to one line.

"Deny it all you want, but it’s set in place." He said under his breath.

With a sharp exhale, he shoved the notebook aside and stood up. He needed a distraction. Anything to stop the strange, uncomfortable feeling curling in his chest. The illness was stronger than ever, he's convinced a demon must've put a curse on him, perhaps magic in nature, one he didn't know about. 

He stumbled out of his study, needing to pause and lean against the steel walls of the hallway. As quietly as he could, he dragged himself to his room. Once he was there, he collapsed on his bed and started at the ceiling. It was hard to breathe, and his breaths were shallow as he wheezed.

He closed his eyes, not even bothering to properly get ready for sleep, refusing to stay awake and think about this further.

Because there was absolutely, definitely no way he had written a love song.

…Right?

Chapter Text

Red Son had never considered himself a musician. He was an engineer, a tactician, a fire-wielding prodigy. Music was something other people did, people like MK.

And yet, here he was, fingers pressing against the keys of an instrument, repeating the chord progression over and over until his muscle memory took hold. MK pretty much had to grovel in order to get Red Son to try it out.

It was frustrating first, and playing with two hands at once was infuriating. But once he got the hang of it, there was something satisfying about the way his hands moved, about the way the sound rang out exactly as he intended. The fire demon mastered this very specific progression. He had to admit, it felt nice. He even learned to read music notation at long last. He wasn't good enough to read and play at the same time, but he was closer than ever.

MK had been delighted when he found out, which led to Red Son being dragged into an impromptu private rehearsal, just in front of Mei and Tang.

It was fine. It was harmless, merely a test run, he figured. 

He was wrong.

The moment they started playing, everything felt wrong. His fingers trembled and he played wrong notes at just about every second. His mind constantly berated him, questioning every note, every movement, every second that passed. For the first time in ages, his hands refused to cooperate, locking up as though they had forgotten everything he had practiced.

Worst of all, while playing guitar, MK kept looking at him with soft smiles and encouraging glances. That belief in him, like he actually trusted Red Son to do this. Red Son’s throat tightened, and his breathing turned shallow. The heat in his body had nothing to do with his fire. He panicked. He didn't want to let MK down, but his fingers stumbled, causing the notes to clash horribly. He winced, hands freezing over the keys, before eventually giving up and letting MK finish the song without him.

And then, silence.

Mei blinked at him with an awkward smile with two thumbs-up.

MK looked genuinely confused.

Tang cleared his throat before voicing his opinion.

"Well, that was… Something."

Red Son shot out of his seat and stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind him, locking himself in MK’s room. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his breath coming in sharp, angry bursts. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. He had practiced so hard, he had mastered all those chords. And yet, in the one moment that it mattered, he had failed. He wasn’t used to this feeling. So he sat there, staring at the floor, frustration curling in his gut like a wildfire with nowhere to go.

A few minutes passed before the door creaked open. MK stepped in quietly, giving Red Son a glance before plopping down next to him, stretching his legs out and gently nudging him with his elbow.

"Hey," MK said, voice softer than usual, "You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to."

Red Son barely reacted as MK nudged him again, a little more insistently this time.

"C’mon, don’t make that face." MK said, leaning back on his palms. "You messed up, so what? Everyone messes up."

"I don’t." Red Son scoffed, but it lacked his usual heat. "I'm not allowed to."

"Well, you just did. No one’s perfect, not even you, and especially not me. And honestly, I think you did way better than you think you did. I swear, you're your own biggest critic." MK bumped his shoulder against Red Son’s. "I mean, you were playing the right chords, just… With a few extra notes occasionally."

"That is not comforting." Red Son groaned with a brief glare.

MK laughed, and it was such a carefree, genuine sound that Red Son couldn’t help but take a longer glance at him. There was something about the way MK smiled at him, completely unshaken by their failures, that made his heart flutter.

Without thinking, MK reached up, brushing a loose strand of red hair out of Red Son’s face that had fallen out from his hair tie. The moment his claws grazed his skin, Red Son froze.

That’s when he noticed. MK wasn’t human, not right now, he had shifted forms at some point. Dark fur covered his skin, his long claws were sharp yet gentle as they tucked the stray hair behind Red Son’s ear. His tail curled around his own ankle, and his pupils were wide and round, reflecting the warm sunlight from the window. Then there were those glittering eyes that practically glowed in the radiance.

"I bet if we ran through it again, you’d get it right this time." MK kept talking, oblivious to the way Red Son had gone completely still. "Maybe it’s just… First-time jitters, huh?"

Red Son barely heard him. His face felt hot. His mind refused to focus. All he could think about was how soft MK’s touch had been, how natural and easy it was for him to reach out like that. MK had always been good at cheering him up. But this was different. Something in Red Son’s mind flipped like a switch. Even as he tried to shove the entire moment out of his mind, his heart refused to settle. MK was so good at cheering him up, but even so, Red Son was still dazed. And… The way MK cheered him up did something to him. After the incident, Red Son is a mess. He can’t stop thinking about it. He can’t stop feeling things.

After the fire demon settled down, they started to write early, one Mei and Tang left. Red Son barely spoke for the next hour. MK was still in his monkey form to better hear notes and pitch. He had tiled from side to side as he listened to each note carefully. 

All was calm… Until MK started to sing. Out of nowhere, Red Son slammed his notebook shut. MK paused mid-sentence.

"Uh… You good?"

No, he was not good. He had spent the past hour failing to focus, tripping over simple ideas, and tearing through the pages of his notebook with frustrated rewrites. And every time MK so much as looked in his direction, all Red Son could think about was that brief moment of contact. 

Red Son had managed to avoid thinking about the scars on MK's hand, and now, he was stuck all over again. MK had brushed his hair back like it was nothing with those… Beautifully scarred hands.

"I'm fine," He lied, "I just need a break."

MK gave him a weird look but, thankfully, didn’t question him. Instead, MK, still seeing a downtrodden fire demon, changed the subject.

"Y’know, I’m really glad we did this. I don’t think I could’ve finished it without you."

Red Son froze. MK’s words, so casual yet so genuine, sent his heart into overdrive. The room felt too warm and the air was too thick. Before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"I… really like this, too."

"Yeah, it’s been fun!" MK purred in agreement. 

Red Son clenched his fists. That’s… Not what he meant. His pulse raced faster as he forced out a broken sentence.

"No, I mean… I really like-"

"AUGH! I’m stuck on using a guitar or piano here!" MK groaned suddenly. He kept rambling, running a hand through his fur. "Like, piano would add more depth, but the guitar would sound cooler. Man, I can’t decide!"

Red Son swallowed his words back down. With a curt nod, he turned away, collapsing onto the bed with a groan. He almost said something. He wanted more than anything to say it, because not even he knew what he wanted to say, or what it would mean. He hoped that he could just miraculously blurt out what he was feeling and solve the mystery that had been haunting him for weeks, but it looks like it won't happen tonight.

By the time dusk settled over the city, the song was nearly complete. The melody, the verses, the harmonies, they had all fallen into place, piece by piece. But there was still one last section that felt unfinished. The ending.

"The final line needs to be meaningful. It should tie everything together and leave an impact." Red Son scribbled down a suggestion, something poetic and grand, before passing the page to MK.

"You're right, it needs to go out with a bang!" MK read it, lips pursing. "Hmmmm… It's kinda dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Dramatic?" Red Son tapped his pen against his knuckles, frowning with a raised brow. "How so?"

"I dunno, Red, I just feel like…" MK scratched his cheek, thinking. "Like, the song was never supposed to be that serious. It should be fun!"

"Fun?" Red Son narrowed his eyes. "Maybe a little, but the entire point of music is to evoke something! It needs depth and meaning."

"Trust me, music doesn’t have to be deep to be good."

"So what, you’d rather settle for something passable instead of something great?"

"Well, not everything has to be a masterpiece!" MK huffed and handed the notebook back before sitting next to Red Son with crossed arms. "You’re overcomplicating it!"

"And you’re being unreasonable!" Red Son slammed the notebook shut.

MK’s eyes snapped to him, something flickering behind them. His teeth grinded together. Then, before Red Son could realize what was happening, MK bared his teeth in a snarl, and a loud growl rumbled from his throat almost like a roar.

Red Son jumped in place, reeling backwards to make distance. His heart was pulsing as adrenaline coursed through his body, reacting to the unexpected display. MK, suddenly realizing what he had done, threw both his hands over his mouth. He stiffened as his hackles rose and his fur stood on end.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was unbearably quiet.

"Oh my gods, I’m SO sorry, I didn't mean to do that! I just got… I got a little carried away. I'm not mad at you, okay?" MK, visibly shaken by his own outburst, immediately stood up, holding his hands up. "I just… We’ve been working on this for so long, and I don’t know, I guess I want it to be fun."

Red Son stared at him, trying to collect his thoughts, but his emotions were tangled. The intensity of MK’s sudden aggression had thrown him off balance. He didn’t know how to respond.

"I didn’t mean to scare you," MK continued, quieter, "I know I’m not really making sense, but it’s just… Sometimes I get frustrated when I can’t get my point across the way I want to. I have issues with that, seriously, I'm really sorry!"

Red Son blinked, trying to process MK’s words, but it was like his mind couldn’t keep up. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. MK must have sensed it, because he sighed heavily with a growl, visibly upset with himself. 

"I think I’m done for the night. I need to chill out." He mumbled somberly. He grabbed his yellow jacket from the bed and turned toward the door. "I’m going downstairs to eat. Goodnight."

Red Son didn’t say anything as MK walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving the fire demon in uneasy silence.

Red Son sat there, his gaze drawn to the abandoned notebook that fell from his grip when he had gotten startled. The unfinished ending seemed to mock him. His heart still pounded, but the heat from the argument had faded, leaving a cold frustration in its wake.

Red Son clenched his fist around the pen that had fallen in his lap. What really bothered him was that MK didn’t seem to see the song the same way he did. To MK, it was just something to have fun with, something light and playful. But for Red Son, this song had become something far more personal. It was an expression of everything he didn’t know how to say, a way to channel these sickening new emotions he was still learning to deal with.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why MK didn’t understand. Because for Red Son, the song meant something different.

And the realization stung more than he’d care to admit.

Maybe MK didn't feel the same.

Chapter Text

Neither of them reached out first after that night. MK figured Red Son also needed time to cool off, while Red Son, too stubborn and far too embarrassed, refused to be the one to break the silence.

Three days passed. Three long, agonizing days where Red Son found himself drowning in emotions he could barely comprehend, still convinced he must have fallen ill due to a cure. He had no proof, but whatever this was, it only seemed to be getting worse.

Ever since MK’s hand had brushed against his face, tucking a stray strand of red hair aside, Red Son had struggled to breathe properly. The memory clung to him and left him lightheaded. He felt dizzy and off-balance, stumbling through the halls of his own home as if gravity itself had turned against him. His parents hadn't noticed yet, thank the gods, they really didn't need to know about his predicament.

By the afternoon of the third day, Red Son laid down, struggling to catch his breath. His chest felt tight, and no matter how much he inhaled, it never felt like enough. His body was betraying him, and he couldn’t even explain why. MK's brief touch and kind gesture to cheer him up flashed in his mind constantly. 

He shut his eyes, willing the feeling away, when his phone buzzed beside him. The screen lit up with a new notification. With slightly shaky hands, he picked it up and saw a message from Mei in their group chat.

Mei: Yo! Emergency inspiration session at my place. Be there in an hour. No excuses!

Red Son frowned. Inspiration? What in the hells was she talking about? He hesitated, glancing at the time. Before he could overthink it, another message popped up.

Mei: I mean it, Red Boy. You too, MK. See you soon! :D

Red Son exhaled heavily once he realized he could breathe. He wasn’t in the mood for Mei’s antics, but if she was making it an official meeting, ignoring it would only make her more insistent, and more annoying. 

With a sigh, he forced himself up. If nothing else, maybe a distraction would serve him well. He got dressed, cleaned up, and drove his all-terrain race car through the scorching desert.

When Red Son arrived at Mei’s estate, he was only mildly surprised to see MK already there, standing awkwardly by a koi pond, still in his monkey form for some reason. Their eyes met briefly before MK quickly looked away.

“Aww yeah, you both made it!" Mei grinned as she threw an arm around each of them, pulling them in. "Now, let’s make this the most super duper awesome hangout ever!”

Red Son narrowed his eyes. Something about her tone felt off. But before he could question it, Mei cut him off.

“Alright, before we can chill, I think it's time to work out whatever is going on between you two.” She said, gesturing vaguely between them. "I'm absolutely not gonna have both of you be awkward with each other the whole time you're here."

“But Mei-” MK groaned. 

“Nope, no complaining!” She cut in with a sing-song voice. “I’m just here to help.”

Red Son glared at her, realizing too late that he’d walked right into her trap. She did this on purpose, didn't she? Before he could call her out on it, Mei smiled innocently.

“Alright, have fun!” Then, without another word, she turned and bolted back toward the estate, leaving them stranded by the koi pond.

“Unbelievable.” Red Son grumbled. "She did this on purpose."

“Yeah, that tracks.” MK shook his head with a small laugh.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Red Son stared at the water, watching the koi fish drift beneath the surface. MK moved anxiously beside him, shuffling his feet against the stone path and the grass that grew in between.

Then, quietly, almost absentmindedly, MK started humming. Red Son stiffened, recognizing the melody instantly. It was their song. MK didn’t look at him, he just kept humming, the tune filling the space between them. And Red Son, despite his stubbornness and bruised ego, listened. When MK reached the end, the monkey hesitated. It was still unfinished, the last line was still missing. 

For the first time since their fight, Red Son wanted to help fix it.

“…It still needs an ending."

MK turned to him, grinning. 

“Y’know, if you wanna add some of your poetic nonsense to it, I guess I’d be okay with that.”

"You have no taste.” Red Son huffed, rolling his eyes, but he stepped a little closer anyway, looking down at the beautiful fish. The distant humming of cicadas filled the silence. The green and gilded golden glow of the estate lanterns reflected off the water’s surface, casting soft ripples of light across their faces as dusk approached.

For a while, they just stood there. It was peaceful. Eventually, MK broke the quiet.

“We actually made something pretty great.”

“Obviously.” Red Son nodded. "It turned out enjoyable after all."

“I mean it. It’s kinda cool, right?" MK chuckled, nudging him with his elbow. "We worked on this together, and now it’s almost done! It has so many cool things to it that I would've never gotten alone. Seriously, thank you for sticking by for so long."

Red Son hummed, crossing his arms. The song was nearly finished, the lyrics were polished, and the instrumentals were incredible. They had spent weeks pouring effort into it, fine-tuning every detail. Now, only one thing remained. The ending. They both knew it. It was the very subject that started their big argument, but they needed to see it though.

“Alright, so… We both agreed to wrap it up with something strong. I've been thinking, you can write it, but how about making it upbeat?”

“Upbeat?” Red Son arched his brow.

“Yeah! Like, something like a solid, confident finish, giving the listener a definitive ending!”

“No, that’s too final." Red Son frowned, shaking his head. "The song should end open-ended, leaving room for interpretation, the listener will therefore think about it more that way”

“But why?”

“Because not everything in life is so definite, Noodle Boy.” Red Son said, lifting his chin. “Sometimes, things are uncertain, and that’s fine.”

“I mean… Yeah, but I think it’d be nice to have an ending that actually resolves something, and have it stuck in your head. Leaving it open at night does not have the same effect.”

“That’s not always how things work.”

"So you want to leave the ending open, but how would that be… Well, an ending?" MK frowned, his usual easy-going demeanor shifting. “So what, you just wanna leave it unfinished? Just let it hang?”

“It wouldn’t be unfinished." Red Son snapped. "And it will still be satisfying.”

“I don’t get it." MK chirped a strange noise. "Why do you need it to be uncertain?”

“Why do you need it to be neatly wrapped up?” Red Son counters with a bull-like sound of his own.

Their gazes locked, something unspoken crackling between them. Because suddenly, this wasn’t just about the song anymore.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated with you?" MK sighed, frustrated.

Red Son went still. For so long, he had been keeping his emotions contained. But now, something inside him snapped. His flames ignited in an instant, flaring high and bright.

MK instinctively took a step back, eyes wide with surprise, no, with fear. His body tensed, his stance shifting as if preparing for a fight.

But Red Son didn’t yell. He didn’t throw insults or storm off in a blaze of anger like he usually did. Instead, he stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, and said under his breath-

“Because I don’t want it to end.”

"W- What?" MK stammered.

Red Son swallowed hard, his flames dying down but not fading completely. He shook his head, turning away. It wasn't the song he was talking about.

“Forget it.”

And then he left.

He expected MK to let him go, to stay behind like he always did, letting the moment pass like he usually did when the fire demon stormed off. 

For the thousandth time, Son would be so very, very wrong.

Because MK then screeched to high heaven like only a monkey could. The shrill shriek echoed through the garden, his voice carrying all the frustration and confusion he had been bottling up.

"YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!" He roared with his tail lashing behind him. "I always wanted to do something fun with you! I wanted you to be part of this, I wanted you to enjoy it, but noooooo, Red Son has to make EVERYTHING complicated!"

Red Son froze mid-step and turned around.

"And you know what?" MK continued, voice shaking now. "I've been stuck in my monkey form for the past three days because of you, I still am!"

MK didn’t stop there. Once the floodgates opened, everything came rushing out.

"Maybe this was a bad idea from the start!" He cried, grinding his teeth together. "Maybe I was stupid to think this would actually work! You overthink everything, and you turn everything into some big, dramatic mess, and I just wanted to make something with you! I thought it’d be fun, but all we do is fight! All we do is-”

MK’s breath hitched. He looked away, then back at Red Son, expression clouded with something unreadable. The monkey's voice cracked, but he kept going. 

“Maybe this was a mistake.” He whined, quieter this time. “Maybe we just… Don’t work."

MK swallowed, stepping back, like he had already made up his mind. 

“I don’t even know why I held on for so long…”

The words landed like a punch to the gut. Red Son turned back, staring at him, stunned. His hair flared wildly now, flames licking at his shoulders. His chest felt too tight. He felt sick again, of course he did. But it hurt more than ever before. It felt different. Every other time he felt a strange emotion, he felt hot. But now, he felt freezing cold. 

MK was panting now, chest rising and falling quickly, hands clenched at his sides. His face was twisted in something almost like regret, but the words had already been said.

Red Son broke eye contact and ran off, unable to hold back the tears, attempting to at least keep some dignity. His legs carried him further away from the hurtful words that still rang in his ears. He couldn’t stop, it wasn’t until the tears burned his eyes and blurred his vision that he realized he’d been running all this time. He wiped his face quickly, trying to hide the evidence.

Why did it hurt so much?

His chest tightened with every shaky breath, and it felt like his body was betraying him. The coldness in his veins felt unbearable, like it was seeping into his very soul.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He was supposed to be regal, strong, and confident. Whenever he felt sick, there was a heat behind it. But now, everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers. He wasn't in control of himself.

Behind him, he could hear MK begging him to come back. When that didn't work, his voice was shaky as he tried to sing their song, trying anything to get the fire demon's attention again, but the sound was broken with ugly sobs. It came in shattered pieces, barely holding together at all. Red Son could hear MK’s wails in between the words, struggling to push through the pain, yet failing despite his best efforts.

Red Son wanted to stop. He wanted to turn back, to hear MK properly and understand why it had all fallen apart so quickly, and why the hell they were fighting at all. But the tears wouldn’t stop, and he couldn’t bear the idea of facing MK again, especially now. The sound of MK’s voice faded, replaced by the roar of blood in his ears. 

Mei appeared from the corner of his eye. She didn’t speak, and didn't stop him as he hurried down the path away from the house. She only glanced at him once, but then she turned to MK without a word. Red Son could hear soft, choked cries from MK, unable to cope with his outburst, at lashing out at a friend. He imagined Mei enveloping MK in a tight hug, her comforting presence the only thing holding him together from falling apart. It only made him feel more miserable. He wanted to turn back, he wanted to be the one to comfort MK and fix it all. But all the warmth had drained from him, leaving him cold and broken in ways he couldn’t explain.

Without thinking, he ran. Away from them, away from the entire mess he’d made. He wasn’t sure if he was running from himself or from the situation, but he needed space, and needed to breathe. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. But he knew he couldn’t keep running forever.

MK had messed up. But so had he. They both ruined everything.

But Red Son knew it was mostly his fault.

Once he arrived home, Red Son sat on his bed, his back against the headboard, staring blankly at the wall. The warmth that usually came so easily to him, that sense of control over the fire within, was nowhere to be found. No matter how much he summoned, how fiercely he commanded the flames to warm him, the chill in his bones wouldn’t dissipate.

He shakily wiped his face, wiping away the steady stream of tears, but it didn’t stop them. His hands trembled, his breaths coming in gasps. There was no reason for it, no explanation he could grasp. He should be angry, frustrated even. But instead, he was accompanied hollow feeling, a cold emptiness that froze his heart

His body refused to cooperate. The fire he summoned in his hand flickered weakly, offering little comfort. The heat he craved seemed just out of reach, and the frigid cold within only deepened. For the first time in a long time, he felt utterly out of control.

Red Son curled into himself, his face buried in his hands as the tears continued to fall. The dam had broken, and there was no stopping the flood now. His chest heaved with each sob, each breath stuttering. He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t know how long it took for the fire in his hand to finally die out, or when his sobs started to slow, but eventually, the room was silent.

His head rested against the pillow. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until his body just gave in. His vision blurred, the edges of his thoughts growing foggy as sleep began to claim him.

Red Son didn't fight it. He let himself fall into the darkness, the overwhelming cold and emotions fading into the distant background of his mind.

…

He had a nightmare.

Red Son walked through the garden once again, the sweet scent of mango and citrus filling his nostrils. The trees were still heavy with fruit. The vibrant sunset-colored flower beds swayed in the gentle breeze, their petals as vivid as ever. The scene was everything he had remembered, peaceful, beautiful, and serene.

But something was wrong.

The atmosphere, once alive with the sounds of birds singing, monkeys chirping, and the rustling of leaves, was now still and eerily silent. It felt like the world had forgotten how to make noise. Red Son’s footsteps echoed through the quiet garden, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. He stopped in the center of the garden, searching for a clue that could explain the strange shift. His heart began to thud louder in his chest, and a strange unease crawled up his spine.

Then, he looked up. Perched high in the trees, the same monkeys from before were watching him. Their eyes locked onto him, but there was no curiosity, no chatter, and no playful energy liow last time. They simply stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, frozen in place.

Red Son felt a chill wash over him. The silence was suffocating, heavier than it had been before. Last time, the monkeys had surrounded him, chattering at him in their unfamiliar language, all eager to ask him something. But now, they didn’t move. They didn’t speak, they just looked at him.

He took a tentative step forward, his voice catching in his throat as he tried to break the silence.

“Why…?” He choked out, but his voice felt small, lost in the emptiness around him.

There was no response. The monkeys remained motionless. The vibrant garden, once a sanctuary of beauty, now felt like a trap. What was happening? Why were they afraid of him now?

Red Son's head snapped up at the sound of a piercing scream. The monkeys around him froze for a moment, their eyes widening with panic. Then, they scattered, their shrill alarm calls echoing in the canopy. Red Son’s heart raced as the cries continued to grow louder, a wave of fear rippling through the garden. More fleeing monkeys zoomed past him, running from something.

Without thinking, Red Son ran in the direction the monkeys had fled, his mind already working to figure out what had caused the chaos. His hands flared with fire, allowing the heat surging within him, ready to strike if anything dared to get in his way or harm this tranquil sage space. The forest remained eerily quiet as he pushed through the thick underbrush, his red hair sparking all the while. He could feel the temperature rising as he ran as the air gradually thickened with smoke. Something was terribly wrong. 

Finally, he broke through a dense patch of foliage, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was happening. The dormant volcano, which had always loomed in the distance, was no longer dormant. Thick, black smoke billowed from the crater, darkening the sky above. Red Son could see rivers of lava and brimstone cascading down the sides of the volcano, burning everything in its path. The heat was intense, even from where he stood. The sky was the color of blood, casting a grim glow over the scene.

And below him, in the heart of the garden, the flames had already begun to spread, consuming the lush vegetation. Beautiful flowers and towering trees were reduced to ash before his eyes. The ground cracked and sizzled as the fire devoured everything in its path. He stood frozen for a moment, unable to move, as the destruction unfolded in front of him.

He tried to cut his own flames off, but it refused. His hair remained ablaze, no matter what he tried to do to make it stop. The garden that had always been peaceful was burning to the ground. 

And Red Son could do nothing but watch.

Chapter Text

The very first time MK closed his eyes to sleep, he was met with a small patch of dirt surrounded by thick mist. Being a messy child, he dug around and played in the mud. Every time he tried to approach the mist, he was pulled by an unseeable force. No matter, he was satisfied with his tiny space.

As time passed, he would occasionally dream of this new place. New sprouts of grass would grow, quickly followed by flowers. And it wasn't long before the first animals appeared. Monkeys appeared from the mist. They would come and go, but would play with him, digging holes and playing chase.

Then, a burly pink pig appeared, accompanied by a strange golden bug on one of their floppy ears. The pig was scary, and all the monkeys fled for now. MK wasn't able to follow them in the mist, so he had to face them. These two creatures reminded him of his caretakers. The two animals were surprisingly gentle, with the pig nudging him into a mud hole until they were both covered in it. The cicada would fly around and sing songs in MK’s ears.

There was no telling when these dreams would appear. But every time it did, something changed. As he grew older, the mist expanded outwards. More monkeys appeared, along with more biodiversity. The holes they dug together long ago molded into the beginnings of lakes and rivers. Trees began to climb into the sky and reach out towards the sun with wide branches. 

One of the most baffling changes was one of the newest additions to the garden. A small green, white, and black dragon, the size of his arm. He had found it in a pond, swimming alongside koi fish. It was friendly and acted a lot like an energetic puppy, jumping on him and trying to cuddle with him.

It was like this for a long time. When MK dreamed of this place, his animal friends would still be here. Everything changed overtime. Soon, there was a full forest and a fairly large lake. The dragon was now the size of a horse, becoming MK to ride it through the expanding landscape. Hills and new rocky terrain appeared, but it was no match for MK and his dragon friend. 

The most significant changes came whenever he was facing hardships. The sun was blotted out when he was sad or angry, and once, it stormed for weeks on end when a small bout of depression hit him. It caused a massive flood, and the animals had to retreat to higher ground. Until everything returned to normal. He was more determined than ever to restore the destruction he brought, carving out a space of wild land to plant his very own garden. 

Then, there was the biggest life change yet. The moment he touched the staff, the world flipped, both in reality and in his dream world. The delicate equilibrium was constantly challenged. Amazingly, the mist retreated further than ever before. An ocean stretched to the horizon, and mountains erupted from the depths. Strange blue cats prowled along the coast line, anyways friendly and excited to see him. He was able to use his newfound powers in his dreams, transforming into a bird and flying above the world was one of his favorite pastimes. 

But not all changes were good. On the other side of the wilderness stood something else. It first caught his attention after he saw smoke in the air, billowing out from a strange new formation in the landscape. The shadows also deepened, feeling colder and more aggressive than before. He started to dream of this place during nighttime, which was strange, it was supposed to always be day. During the night, creatures appeared. They appeared as huge, bulking bovines, creeping spiders, or even shadowy monkeys. Ghost-like apparitions floated through the trees as MK would hide in the safety of his growing garden.

Whenever he faced a new world threatening challenge, the dreamscape reflected his struggles, and soon, his one safe space from reality was compromised. The Lady Bone demon's assault on the world brought a raging blizzard onto MK's dream, and quickly turned it into a nightmare. The terrain became blindingly white. The lakes froze over, snow and ice blanketed the ground, and the wind screamed in his ears. He was never able to see anything, he just had to hope this nightmare would end.

Once the threat was over and the world was saved, the storm broke and the sun appeared Once again. The snow began to slowly melt. Once it was gone, lots of plants had withered away. MK was forced to help nature regrow, planting new bushes, flowers, and trees. However, during winter, the snow would return again, becoming a seasonal occurrence. Now, MK had to deal with the occasional nighttime or snowfall.

After defeating Azure Lion, MK fell asleep only to be baffled by enormous cracks in the ground. He had completely missed a massive earthquake. The monkey population doubled, maybe even tripled. They acted differently, trying to speak to him in a strange language, but he never understood. The cracks into the ground didn't stay, mending back together, leaving only jagged scars and bumps behind.

Then there was the Pillar of Heaven. The night after, he found himself in the safety of his garden. He was surprised to find out that thousands of animals were surrounding him. The dragon had grown to a tremendous size over the years and hardly fit in the space at all. The pig and cicada never left his side. The monkeys were all quiet. Even the shadows had settled down. At night, the shadow monkeys were no longer aggressive. Actually, they had begun to protect him from other enemies. Many of the other night creatures no longer bothered him, fading into the darkness from whence they came.

When Wukong and Macaque helped him become more confident in his monkey form and taught him the strange language of their kin, MK finally began to understand what the dream monkeys were saying. They loved to ask him questions about his life, even going as far as to snoop in his personal matters. 

Interestingly, the monkeys had reported seeing other people enter his dream world. It was extremely rare, but it did happen. MK had yet to come across anyone, but he was hopeful, especially when the little fluff balls told him of a recurring visitor. 

But all excitement faded once a group of monkeys flew past him, screeching in fear, screaming of danger. Their distress wasn't lost on MK. He ran with all he had, feet pounded against the dampening soil as he zigzagged around trees and vaulted over bushes and briar patches. Once out on the ends of the jungle, what greeted him was heat and a wall of light.

Fire.

It consumed everything. It blazed across the woodland without mercy. His sanctuary was gradually destroyed by roaring flames. The violent, crackling mass devoured the world he had nurtured time and time again. Black smoke choked the sky, stinging MK’s eyes and clawing down his throat as he stumbled backward, powerless to stop it. MK coughed violently, forcing him to retreat. He had to flee before he was also suffocated.

He scrambled to higher ground, and from there, he watched helplessly as the fire tore through the lusty woodland. The land that had stood through countless storms, floods, and tremors, it had always survived, but it was never easy to watch.

Thinking fast, he slashed down trees with desperate sweeps of his power, carving a barren line through the forest. A firebreak. It was messy, frantic, it might not be enough, but it was all he could do. He could only pray it would spare at least some corner of the garden, specifically the little patchwork of paradise he had built up.

When the fire finally burned itself out, the silence it left behind was worse than the roaring had ever been. Ash rained down like gray snow. The jungle he had known, the jungle he had loved, was blackened beyond recognition. Skeletons of trees jutted from the ground like broken bones. The soil was scorched and cracked. The air still stank of smoke and loss.

MK stood in the wreckage, staring at it with wide, horrified eyes. This place had been his safe space. It was supposed to be untouchable. But now…Now it felt like a corpse. He turned away before the tears could catch up to him.

His dream world survived disaster after disaster. No cataclysm stood a chance. But he couldn't help but feel at a loss. The fire had come and passed. This world will recover just like it had done numerous times before. Ashes and charcoal littered the floor, leaving the terrain blackened and unrecognizable. 

After the destruction, whenever he dared to enter the dreamscape again, he clung to the tiny, unburned patch he had managed to save, a pitiful island of green in a sea of ruin. The sun remained blocked out and rain refused to fall. His animal friends would curl up around him, but no amount of comfort could fill the hollow space where the heart of his world had once been.

Eventually, he stopped dreaming of it altogether, because it hurt too much to dream about something that was already dead. One day, he'll return, just like always, but there's no telling when. 

He would always wake up in tears, even when he dreamt of nothing.

Chapter Text

Red Son woke up.

For a moment, he didn’t move and stared at the ceiling in silence. His body felt heavy, muscles stiff like he’d spent the night fighting instead of laying in bed. The soreness wasn’t really physical, but like if it were deep in his chest where a heartbeat should be. Hollow. Yes, that was the word.

He felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything that made him burn, his pride, his fire, his voice, and left behind a shell still expected to function. His hands moved automatically. He had to get up and get going. He went about his normal routine. Shower. Dry off. Pull on clean clothes. Sit and stare at the mirror.

He looked the same, and for some reason, that was annoying. His makeup brushes sat neatly arranged on the counter. He applied them, smearing a light red hue across sharp cheekbones and lining his eyes until they looked sharp enough to cut. His fingers moved to his hair next, gathering the long strands into their usual high tail.

This daily ritual should’ve made him feel more like himself. It didn’t. Why didn't it? Today was just a normal day. Yeah, a completely normal day after a life-changing, heart-aching, utterly stupid argument with someone who had once made him feel more alive than his own flame ever had.

He sighed. It wasn’t even about the song. It was never about the song.

Red Son pressed his palm to his chest No heartbeat thudded beneath it, at least not one he could feel, like his organs had been all burned out to smoldering Ashes. He stared into the mirror and created his throat.

"I look fine." He said out loud, but he didn’t sound convinced.

He stepped out of the bathroom, steam rose from the doorway. The scent of his expensive cologne clung to him. His face held no cracks… Except for the way he kept flinching every time his phone buzzed.

Bark!

He winced. 

Bark! Bark!

He didn’t need to check. He knew that ridiculous sound by heart. It was some high-pitched, barking little dog. That was Mei’s doing. She had picked it out on a whim one day and set it as her custom notification tone on his phone. "So you can’t ignore me!" She had said with an evil grin.

He was ignoring her now.

Bark!

Red Son’s eye twitched. He turned the phone over on his desk without unlocking it. What could she even want right now? An apology? To talk about what happened? Or worse… To defend MK and make him feel worse than he already did? He clenched his jaw and moved on. There was no point wondering. He wasn’t ready to think about that quite yet.

He returned to the bathroom, fastening the last pieces of his outfit. He donned a black overcoat today, golden embroidery wrapping up his collar like flames licking his throat. Dark, silky crimson pants clasped snugly around his waist. He slipped into his boots wordlessly, tugging the fastenings tight. Everything was perfect. But still… He felt like he was dressing someone else.

His gaze drifted upward to the clock on his wall.

7:42 a.m. Nearly time for breakfast with his parents. He stared at the time for a few seconds longer than he needed to, as if it might change and give him an excuse not to go. Of course it didn't, it would be moronic to even hope.

With a final glance at the turned-over phone and the echo of barking that no longer sounded funny, Red Son sighed and left the room with a groan.

The walk through the fortress felt longer than usual. Red Son’s boots echoed down the vast halls, the sharp click of each step swallowed quickly by the high ceilings and towering steel walls. The halls were grand, lined with intricate carvings and massive columns flanked by glowing braziers, but today they felt more like the corridors of a museum. Empty, lifeless, ornate… And cold despite being built over a volcano. The air was still, disturbed only by the uneventful patrolling of bull clones who stood at attention as he passed. None of them dared to bother him. Good, he preferred it that way.

It took a full five minutes just to reach the dining chamber. The towering doors were already open. Warm smells drifted from within. He recognized spiced eggs, roasted vegetables, and fresh tea, but none of it stirred his appetite.

Princess Iron Fan sat at the far end of the obsidian dining table in a dazzling dress with a book in her hand. She didn’t glance up as he entered, only nodding as he approached. She looked regal as ever, poised and unreadable. His father, on the other hand, was busy. Demon Bull King stood by a counter, carrying two massive platters in each hand. He moved with surprising grace for someone his size, carefully setting down plates with more gentleness than one might expect from a towering warlord.

Red Son took his seat quietly, folding his hands in his lap. He didn’t say anything, and neither did they. It always started like this. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t tense, it was simply routine, and the perfect way for them to all spend time together despite their vast differences and preferences. He stared at the plate in front of him, not touching the food yet. Strange, this was just breakfast with his parents. Just a normal morning in a perfectly ordered fortress. And yet, he’d never felt more like something was missing.

Red Son picked up his chopsticks and reached first for the eggs. They were spiced just how he liked it. Bright orangish-yellow with hints of red chili, seared edges crackling slightly under the pressure of his grip. He placed a small bite into his mouth and chewed in silence. As per usual, it tasted amazing.

Across the table, his mother turned a page in her book. His father poured tea into three cups, the steam curling lazily in the warm air.

For a while, they talked about small things. Iron Fan commented on a new shipment of rare metals arriving later in the week. Bull King grumbled about a structural crack in a wall near the bedroom that needed immediate repairs. Red Son replied when prompted, with just enough alertness to appear normal.

But not enough to fool them. Eventually, the words ran out. Red Son focused on the rhythm of his eating and hoped they wouldn’t bring it up. He kept his eyes down, refusing to look too long at either of them. He could feel their glances burning into his skin.

It was his mother who spoke first.

"You’re quiet today," She said, her tone deceptively light. "More than usual."

"I’m tired." He didn't look up. He wasn't lying.

"You’re always tired," his father rumbled, "But you never show it like this."

Red Son’s hand paused midway to his mouth. The egg white dropped back onto the plate with a soft splat.

"Is something the matter?" Iron Fan closed her book. 

There was a beat of silence. Red Son’s throat felt dry. He could lie and could brush it off, but his chest ached. The words came out before he could stop them.

"I had a nightmare." He admitted quietly.

His parents exchanged a look.

"A nightmare?" His father asked.

Red Son nodded once, stabbing his chopsticks into the vegetables. 

"It’s nothing." He forced a little scoff. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does if it’s still clinging to you." His mother said calmly. "You don’t look like someone who’s shaken it off."

He didn’t answer. His appetite had vanished. There were a hundred things he could’ve said. A thousand ways to describe that feeling of losing someone who hadn’t even left yet, of growling something cruel that he wished you could take back, of watching someone he cared about crumble as he ran away like a coward the moment a single tear dropped from his eyes. But none of that made sense in words, not without explaining who he’d seen crying, and who he had nearly cried in front of.

He picked up his tea, trying to hide the slight tremble in his fingers.

"I’m fine," He insisted, "It was just a ridiculous nightmare."

His voice echoed slightly in the cavernous dining hall, swallowed by the dark stone and silence. He didn’t usually admit to things like that, not aloud. Red Son stared down into his tea. He wasn't lying, just not telling the full truth. 

"What kind of nightmare?" Iron Fan folded her hands neatly over her book, watching him with sharp, discerning gray eyes. 

Red Son hesitated. He didn’t want to say it. But the image hadn’t left him all morning. He couldn't lie to his parents, even if he wanted to.

"A garden," He began,"There was a beautiful garden. Full of golden trees and flower beds as far as the eye could see. The wildlife was abundant and diverse. Everything was peaceful. And then… Then it caught fire."

"And did you light it?" His mother narrowed her eyes.

"No, I didn’t."

He expected silence after that, maybe a nod of acknowledgment, it's what they usually did when they were satisfied with his answer. Instead, Iron Fan looked at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"I know you’ve been spending your nights at the Monkie Kid’s residence."

Red Son stiffened. Across the table, Demon Bull King turned his head sharply, brows raising. 

"What?"

"You… Knew?" Red Son blinked at her.

"Of course I did." She crooned, lifting her tea. "You may be subtle, but you are not invisible. I’ve known for weeks. I simply chose to say nothing until now. We're allies, it was no cause for alarm."

"Why wasn’t I told?" Demon Bull King looked bewildered, glancing between them. 

"Because." Lady Iron Fan said, sipping her hot drink. "you would have stormed after that little monkey in the middle of the night like a bull in a china shop. I know that you haven't quite forgiven the little thief just yet for interrupting our plans for world domination."

Red Son was too stunned to react to their bickering. His fingers tightened around his cup. He hadn’t thought he was that obvious.

"Tell me…" His mother’s gaze returned to him, cold and cautious now. "Did that wretched simian do something to you?"

Red Son’s head snapped up.

"No!" The word left his mouth too fast, too fierce. He set his tea down harder than he meant to. He cleared his throat and spoke calmly. "No, he didn’t do anything. It’s not… It’s not him I’m upset about, not at all."

His mother raised a brow but said nothing. His heart thudded painfully, finally feeling it again. He didn’t know why he felt so protective all of a sudden… Maybe because he still saw his tears every time he closed his eyes.

"I see," Lady Iron Fan said after a long pause. "Then something else happened."

Red Son pressed his lips into a thin line. He couldn’t deny it, but he wouldn’t let them hate MK for it. MK had already been hurt enough, he didn't deserve their fury, not when Red Son had been the one to run away.

"I just need time." He sighed. "That’s all."

"If you were in pain, you should have told us." His father, uncharacteristically silent, finally said.

Red Son looked up at him. His father’s expression wasn’t angry. It was... Genuine concern. That somehow made everything worse.

"I didn’t want to talk about it." Red Son whispered. "I still don’t."

Thankfully, they let it go. Red Son had expected more probing, more suspicious questions veiled in parental concern, but instead, his mother returned to her tea, and his father went back to his breakfast, though both kept throwing him glances from time to time. He’d eaten most of his meal. The food was good, but the taste barely registered. He felt full in the worst way, like his insides were stuffed with smoke.

"I’m going to my room now." He said quietly, standing.

Neither of his parents stopped him. Another blessing. The walk back to his chambers felt shorter, but only because he wasn’t thinking about it. His thoughts trailed off somewhere between the burned garden in his dreams and the burning guilt in his stomach.

The moment he stepped inside, the door quietly clicking shut behind him-

Bark!

He groaned.

Bark! Bark! Bark!

The shrill little dog bark buzzed from his desk. He glared at his phone, which was still facedown, vibrating with persistent energy. That cursed sound was still yapping.

Bark!

"Fine!" He hissed through his teeth with a sneer. "Fine, Mei. You win."

He snatched the phone with more force than necessary and flipped it over. Mei’s name and dragon emojis flashed across the screen. There were so many new messages and puppy videos, he just skipped to the bottom.

Mei: Heyyyy are you awake yet?

Mei: Okay you are DEFINITELY ignoring me.

Mei: Please I need your help!

Mei: Red Boy, my precious baby’s broken!

Mei: My BIKE not MK, though he might be too? idk? Anyway it’s the racing bike PLEASE come look at it, a big event is coming up!

Red Son stared at the last message. His thumb hovered over the screen. Mei’s favorite racing bike was broken? Yes, he remembered now that she had a big event coming up. The qualifiers for the next city-wide tournament. She’d been going on about it for weeks. It was really important to her.

She needed help, and he needed a distraction.

He sighed. Whatever. He could humor her. Even if he didn’t feel up to it. Even if all he wanted was to crawl back into bed and sleep for the rest of the cycle. Mei was his friend. A loud, pushy, relentless menace of a reptile, but one he’d trust with his life.

He couldn’t fail another friend. He tapped out a quick reply.

Red Son: I’ll be there in two hours.

Then he turned off the barking ringtone. Merciful Guanyin, sweet silence at last.

The journey across the desert was long, but familiar. Red Son stood tall at the helm of his all-terrain car. It wasn't the fanciest thing ever, but it could cross the massive sand dunes in seconds. The sky above was cloudless, a harsh blue that stretched forever. Heat shimmered off the sand, distorting the world around him. The trip to Mei’s estate always took a while, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the time passed faster than expected. The low growl of the engine beneath him was soothing, like the hum of a song that didn’t need lyrics… No, don't think about that.

Soon, the white, green, and gold marble towers of Mei’s massive mansion came into view. Her family’s wealth was impossible to ignore, but she never acted like it mattered. The gates opened automatically at his approach, no longer triggering the scary alarm systems when the cameras saw him these days.

Mei was already waiting outside. She waved him down with a big grin, dressed in a sleeveless hoodie and fingerless gloves, goggles pushed up into her dark hair.

"There you are!" She called, running to meet him. "Took you long enough, I thought you were ghosting me!"

"I was considering it." Red Son grumbled, hopping out of his car. "You’re lucky I had nothing better to do."

"Lucky, my scales!" She grinned, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him toward the garage. "C’mon, she’s making this horrible screeching noise and I refuse to take her into the qualifiers sounding like a malfunctioning toaster oven."

He let her drag him across the tiled path that wrapped around her main courtyard. The sun reflected off the windows and the koi pond shimmered nearby, crystal clear. Red Son’s eyes flicked toward it, and his steps slowed. Right there, just by the walkway, he remembered. 

The argument. The shouting. MK’s voice cracking. The look in his eyes when he begged him not to go, singing their unfinished song one last time.

He forced himself to look away and ran to catch up with Mei. 

Inside the garage, the air was cooler and smelled of oil, rubber, and fresh paint. Tools lined the walls in neat racks, and three other bikes sat in various states of construction, but her favorite, the neon green and black racer with custom green flame trim, sat in the center.

"There she is!" Mei announced, hands on her hips. "She started making this awful noise when I revved her this morning. Kinda like a goose choking on a chainsaw? You’ll see."

She threw a switch and twisted the throttle.

CKCKCK RRRRRRRRRR-KKK-KKHH!

"Oh." Red Son winced. 

"Right?"

He crouched beside the bike, scanning the joints, the exhaust, and the web internal cabling. He found the problem quickly, one of the primary fuel channels had come loose and was vibrating against the chassis.

"Simple resonance issue." He declared, already reaching for her tools. "Did you change anything else recently?"

"I, uhhhhh, maybe? I added a new stabilizer… Or four."

Red Son rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. He focused instead on the bike. 

The world narrowed down to bolts and lines, diagnostics and tuning. His hands moved on instinct, brain quiet for the first time all day. There was something deeply comforting about getting his hands dirty and covered in oil. This was something he could fix.

Unlike everything else.

Red Son tightened the last bolt. He revved the engine, and the harsh grating sound was gone. The engine would work now. He leaned back onto his feet with a soft exhale. Sweat clung to his temples, but the work had helped him clear his head. Mei sat cross-legged on the nearby bench, watching him. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, fiddling with a wrench in her hands.

The silence between them felt heavier than usual. He didn’t like it.

"Out with it." He said without looking at her. "You’re too quiet."

"Yeah…" She shrugged.

"If this is about your other bikes, I am not-"

"It’s not about the bikes."

He froze. She set the wrench aside and clasped her hands together in her lap, staring at the concrete floor.

"I want to say I’m sorry for last night."

He glanced up.

"I never should’ve pushed you two like that," She said quickly, "I thought if I just got you both in the same room, everything would fix itself. I didn’t realize how tense things still were. And then you both started fighting and I shouldn’t have walked away. I thought I was giving you space, but it just made things worse."

Red Son looked away with a tightened jaw.

"It’s not your fault." He said after a brief pause. "We were already heading toward it. You just… Flicked the match, I suppose."

"Some friend I turned out to be." She laughed dryly.

"You were trying to help, which is more than I deserved."

"Don’t say that."

He didn’t answer.

"I mean it!" Mei said more firmly, scooting closer on the bench. "You care about MK, and he cares about you. That much is super obvious. But something hurt you, and you’ve been trying so hard not to admit it, even to yourself."

Red Son said nothing. His fingers were clenched into fists against his knees.

"Red," She continued gently, "He cried when you ran. He was scared you wouldn’t come back."

Those words hit deeper than he wanted to admit.

 His chest ached again.

"I didn’t mean to." He whispered. "I never do. I don’t know what came over me."

"I know."

"I should’ve stayed. I should’ve done something. Anything but run away."

"You were hurting, too."

"I made him cry." Red Son finally met her eyes.

"And then you cried, don't think you could hide it from me." She replied softly. "Do you really think that means you're the villain in this?"

He looked down, jaw tight. He didn’t answer. After a long pause, Mei leaned forward, placing a hand on his arm.

"You don’t have to have it all figured out right now, but when you're ready… Talk to him."

Red Son blinked rapidly, surprised to find his eyes stinging again.

"…I don’t know what to say to him."

"Start with ‘I’m sorry.’" She said, smiling. 

Red Son stood back and dusted off his hands, forcing his thoughts to tuck neatly back into the corners of his mind. Mei had offered him more than a distraction, and she’d offered fairly valuable insight, and for that, he was grateful. But it was time to go.

"I should get back," he said, his voice steady again. "Thank you for… Mild emotional excavation."

"Anytime, drama prince." Mei rolled her eyes.

He turned to leave, sweeping past the rows of half-finished bikes and polished helmets, steps echoing softly across the garage floor.

But then… Hai nose caught something his eyes didn't. He thought he imagined it at first. He sniffed once. A scent. Peculiar, but distinct. Not oil. Not metal. But… It couldn't be…

Citrus and ginger.

"…He was here."

Mei stepped back, surprised. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice.

"Yeah, he was." She admitted. "MK came by earlier this morning long before you showed up. I was still trying to fix the bike myself, and he wanted to see me."

Red Son turned back slowly, his face unreadable.

"I didn’t tell him you were coming!" She added. "I swear, he left before I sent the messages."

His gaze slid across the room, following the scent, and stopped. There, sitting slightly ajar on a cluttered side table, was a sketchbook. He recognized the spiral binding and the obnoxious monkey stickers on every page, the same one MK was always scribbling in during downtime.

He stepped toward it slowly.

"Red, you don’t have to-"

But he was already there, fingers brushing the open page. He held in a gasp. The sketch was drawn in pencil and colorful inks. It was the two of them. MK was strumming a guitar, grinning wildly, while Red Son focused intently on the keyboard.

What really caught his eye was even the drawing itself. The date was written neatly at the top corner. It was today's date. He’d drawn this today? After the argument? MK looked genuinely happy in the drawing, carefree and unbothered. His shoulders were relaxed, his eyes bright, as if nothing had happened. And Red Son could see the smallest relaxed expression on his sketched lips.

"…He drew this after what I said to him?"

"I think… Even after everything, he still sees you like this." Mei stepped beside him, hands in her pockets.

Red Son traced the edge of the sketch with his gaze. The lines weren’t perfect, and it looked somewhat rushed, but they were full of love and attention to detail. MK had remembered the exact shape of his jaw, captured how his hair curled behind his ears, and even remembered the scar on his face. Even now, MK still saw him through kind eyes.

Red Son closed the sketchbook gently, his fingertips lingering on the edge of the page. He didn’t take it, didn't dare touch it for any longer than he had to. Somehow, it felt too personal, like a secret MK had left behind without meaning to. A part of him was still here, smiling in graphite and ink.

With a breath, he turned to leave again. Right as he reached the garage doors-

"Hey, Red?"

He paused, turning his head to the side.

"Yes?"

Mei kicked lightly at the floor, eyes glancing anywhere but at him. Her tone was suspiciously high-pitched. 

"Can I ask you something kinda… Weird?"

"Have you ever not asked me something weird?"

"Okay, fair." She grinned nervously. "But like… what do you know about, ummmm… Courtnapping?"

Red Son froze.

"…Mind explaining yourself?"

"Courtnapping!" She repeated, waving her hands. "Y’know, that old tradition? I read about it somewhere. Supposedly it was this ancient demon courtship thing? Like, you steal the person you like for a whole day or whatever. Romantic kidnapping. Totally unhinged."

"That is not how it works!" Red Son stared at her, aghast. "And it's absolutely not a single day, mind you."

"So you do know about it!"

"Of course I do." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It’s as ancient as it is ridiculous."

"So it’s real?" Mei’s eyes sparkled, already enjoying this far too much.

"Yes, it’s real." He groaned. "Demons used to do it to make grand declarations of interest. You would 'nab' the one you wanted to court and spend several weeks proving you were worthy of their affection. Gifts, duels, ridiculous performances, the likes. It's overdramatic and stupid."

"Huh." Mei breathed.

"Huh, what?"

"Nothing!" She said innocently. "I was just curious. I mean… You’d probably know. I'm pretty sure MK didn’t, so I didn't bother to ask him."

"Well, now you know. I’ve never thought highly of it. I'm not one for romance."

There was a pause. Then Mei asked something somehow dumber than her last question.

"Have you ever thought about doing it?"

"What?"

"Courting someone." She said, a little more confident now. "Like… At all."

He blinked again. For a second, he thought it was a joke. But Mei was watching him closely now, head tilted, the smile gone. He answered honestly.

"No, like I said, it’s never been my thing."

He meant it. He never thought about things like romance. Not when all he was expected to be was powerful, brilliant, and composed. He was too busy proving himself to his parents and to the world to think about hearts and feelings. 

"No one ever caught my interest." He added.

Mei looked at him, and for just a second, her expression shifted. Disappointment, fleeting, brief, but unmistakable. Red Son narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing important." She yawned and turned back toward her bike. "I’m being silly."

He stared at her a second longer, then looked away. He stepped out into the bright afternoon light. The garage doors closed behind him, sealing away the various scents and the sketch he couldn’t unsee. The sun had risen high overhead, casting long shadows across Mei’s hime. The koi pond shimmered in the distance, deceptively peaceful, like it hadn’t witnessed a falling out just hours ago. He didn’t look at it this time. His car sat waiting by the gate, gleaming with heat. He climbed in and turned the key in the ignition. The engine came to life with a quiet roar, but he didn’t take off right away. He sat there for a long moment, staring at the skyline.

The repairs were done, and with it, the distractions. And now that his hands weren’t busy, the hollowness returned. He thought fixing something might make him feel better.

But the ache hadn’t left, and it might not leave for a while.

Chapter Text

Red Son sat in his workshop, the only place in the fortress that still felt like his. Tools and half-finished projects laid scattered across the workbenches, but none of them could hold his focus for long. He had thrown himself into his work all week, desperately trying to bury the cold numbness in his chest beneath his work. But no matter how many times he built, adjusted, or tested his inventions, the feeling never faded. It only grew quieter, and amongst all these new emotions, he only recognized one.

It was grief. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what it was. He had lost things before, failed projects, broken his parent's expectations, moments that slipped through his fingers before he could hold onto them. And, of course, he had lost his father for a while. He knew grief like an old friend.

A week. It had been a week since their argument over the ending, and six days since he talked to Mei. And in three more days, the music fest will happen, the festival that he and MK had spent so long excitedly working toward. Red Son assumed MK had moved on without him by now. He had no reason to wait, the Noodle Boy never needed help to make music. He had said as much before in his outburst, that he just wanted to hang out. That realization made Red Son’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He thought it would fade with time, but instead, it lingered like an unanswered question. Would he finish the song without him?

Every day, he checked his phone. And every day, there was no message from MK, only Mei.

She had been relentless as per usual. She still apologized for forcing them to talk when they weren’t ready, which led to their big argument. Then, as the week went on, she changed tactics. She gave gentle nudges, casual check-ins, and encouragement disguised as offhand comments. She wasn’t trying to force them back together this time. She just wanted them to try, but on their own terms. Red Son had ignored most of them. But still, every time his phone buzzed and barked, he felt his spirits lift just for a moment. However, every spark of hope quickly dissipated every time he was reminded MK wasn’t texting or calling, and Red Son wasn’t brave enough to reach out first. This was all his fault, after all. MK was just trying to be nice, and the fire demon had taken it too seriously.

Red Son had to get out of the house. His mother had already started watching him more closely, lingering a little too long whenever she passed by his workshop. His father had made a few worrying comments about his lack of progress on new projects. It wouldn’t take long for them to figure out something was wrong. And he didn’t want them to worry. 

So, on a whim, he left for a night. He didn’t think about where he was going until he was already halfway there, riding his all-terrain motorbike instead of his car this time, speeding across the desert toward the only other place that made sense. Deep in a forest between the desert and the city, their secret hangout had been built years ago when they first became allies and friends. A hidden spot where the three of them could just exist, away from responsibilities and expectations from the world.

When he arrived at the forest, he wasted no time walking through the thick underbrush. He memorized the way there, he didn't even need to summon his fire to light the way. The treehouse stood tall above the clearing, weathered but sturdy. The wooden planks, nailed together with their combined efforts, had been patched over time but remained relatively the same. He touched the ladder, running his fingers and small claws over a carving MK had made, a simple symbol representing the three of them. A monkey, a dragon, and a flame backdrop. Along the other wooden planks were doodles from all three of them. 

Red Son exhaled and climbed up. The treehouse was empty, of course it was. The cushions from their singular old sofa and blankets they had gathered over time were still scattered around. A few snack wrappers were left on the floor from their last visit and movie cases were haphazardly tossed on the little table. The trapdoor was already open, and even from below, he could already see remnants of their time there. There were more scratched-in doodles on the wood, and a faded banner from the stone fruit race years ago. Mei had insisted on hanging up, and small dark stains from where Red Son's hair flared on the ceiling. It was untouched and perfect.

But as he stepped inside, he caught sight of something that made his heart skip a beat. MK’s beloved bright yellow hoodie, draped over the old couch, like he had been here recently. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stay away. Red Son took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on the hoodie. MK never went anywhere without that ridiculous thing, he complained about the heat constantly even when he was in his monkey form, but still wore it anyway. And now, here it was, abandoned.

MK had been here recently, that much was obvious. But why had he left it behind?

He stepped forward cautiously, as if the moment he got too close, the reality of it would disappear. But it didn’t. The hoodie remained, slumped over the couch, slightly wrinkled like MK had taken it off in a hurry. Red Son clenched his fists. He shouldn’t be this affected by a stupid piece of clothing. And yet, the sight of it stirred something deep in his core, something he hadn’t been able to name since their fight.

He reached out before he could think better of it, pinching the fabric between his fingers. It was soft, well-worn, and smelled like-

Citrus and ginger. The familiar scent of MK... And it was fresh.

Red Son let go quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. His heart was pounding and he backed away instantly. Why had MK left this here? Had he really forgotten it? 

Or… Was he-

A rustling sound outside made him freeze. Red Son turned around sharply just as someone climbed up the ladder.

MK was still here.

The demon monkey pulled himself up onto the platform, looking surprised to see him. His eyes flickered between Red Son and the hoodie on the couch, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Oh…” MK warbled a nervous laugh, rubbing down fur that had risen along his body. “You found my hoodie.”

“You left it lying around, of course I found it.”

“Yeah, well…” MK, only wearing a white shirt, gave him a tired smile. “I guess I’ve been a little distracted lately. I didn't even realize you were here.”

An uncertain silence settled between them. This was it, this was the moment where one of them had to say something. MK spoke first.

“Mei’s been on my case about, uhh, y’know… About talking to you.”

“She hasn’t exactly been subtle with me, either.” Red Son huffed quietly.

“I… I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Red Son stiffened. What was MK doing? He wasn't apologizing, was he?

“I was mad, and I didn’t mean to…” MK’s voice faltered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like-”

Red Son’s fingers twitched. He wasn’t sure he could hear the rest of that sentence, so he took a slow breath and cut MK off.

“I-” The words caught in his throat. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to talk. “I wasn’t exactly fair, either. Maybe we can find a middle ground. If I'm careful with the words, perhaps we can both get the effect we want.”

“Oh, if that's the case,” MK looked up at him, hopeful, “I can work with that.”

For the first time in a week, Red Son felt like he could breathe again. His body relaxed as his lungs filled with glorious air. He still felt sickly, but in the warm way he had grown to miss, chasing away the cold that had lurked for an entire week, with its icy claws gripping his heart. It all melted away when MK looked at him, not with anger, but with hope.

After a few moments of painfully awkward silence, they both suddenly blurt out at the same time.

“I’m sorry!”

They freeze. Lock eyes. Then immediately try to talk again.

“No, I-"

“You first-"

“Wait, what were you gonna-"

“Just let me-"

The conversation devolved into a mess of interruptions, both of them tripping over each other’s words, getting increasingly frustrated. Eventually, MK sighed and slapped a palm to his head.

“Okay, stop. Pause.” MK exhaled, then looked at Red Son. “I didn’t mean to act like your ideas didn’t matter. I was being dumb.”

“And I… May have overreacted.” Red Son, clearly flustered, crossed his arms and averted his gaze once more. “It’s your song, and you should make the final call. I failed to realize that you invited me to be part of this not because of necessity, but because you actually wanted me there.”

“Yeah, I did.” MK watched him for a moment before smiling. 

They exchanged a glance, and an unspoken understanding passing between them. MK nudged the fire demon’s shoulder with his own. 

“So… What do you say? One last chance to finish this thing properly this time?”

“No more fighting?” Red Son suggested.

“No more fighting.” MK agreed, flashing a bright smile that Red Son sorely missed.

“Should we just finish it now?” MK said as he picked up his hoodie and threw it on. “The festival’s in three days.”

“Might as well.” Red Son hesitated for only a second before nodding. 

They both sat down on the old couch, shoulders brushing as they settled in. It was small, forcing them close, but neither of them mentioned it.

Red Son summoned notebooks and pens for both of them. He tried to focus, but the strange sickness was back. He still didn’t understand it, and sure didn’t know what to do with it. The pain never faded when MK was around. If anything, it always got worse. And he was tired of not knowing why.

“I need to ask you something.” Red Son said, not looking up from the page.

“Yeah?” MK glanced at him with glittering eyes.

“The reason as to why I've been so stressed around you. I think I might be under a magic curse.”

“Uhhhhh… Explain?”

“Every time I’m around you, or even think about you for too long, I feel strange, to say the least.” The fire demon clenched his teeth. “I can’t breathe properly, my chest tightens, and I feel unreasonably warm. But lately, it’s been getting worse. I assume it’s some kind of lingering magic effect.”

“Huh?” MK stared at him, then snorted. “Are you saying you’re allergic to me?”

“Hold on just a second there, Noodle Boy.” Red Son sat up straighter. “That is a perfectly logical conclusion!”

MK immediately lost it, doubling over in laughter. 

“Oh my gods, HAHA!” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I didn’t realize my monkey form gave people allergic reactions!”

“I fail to see what’s so amusing about this, this is serious!” Red Son scowled.

“I know, it's just- WOW!” MK screeched with laughter, leaning against the fire demon next to him, struggling to breathe through his laughter. “Let’s figure this out before you start carrying any medication just for being in my general proximity!”

“Please.”

“Let’s be real for a second, I'll be your armchair physician or whatever.” MK finally caught his breath, though he was still grinning like a maniac. “Just in case you are cursed or something, when did this start?”

“A while ago, since we first started working on the song a few weeks ago. It’s been getting worse ever since.”

“Yikes, that's a pretty decent amount of time. And you said it feels like... What? Your chest tightening, heat, trouble breathing?”

“And terrible pain, constantly. It doesn’t stop, but it could change. Sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it settles down, but it’s always there. And my mind, it's like-” He groaned in frustration, adjusting his glasses. “I can't think straight half the time. It’s like my thoughts get all tangled, and I can’t focus. Oddly enough, it has been at its worst this past week even if I didn't see you.”

“Yeesh, that does sound kinda serious.” He leaned forward slightly, tapping his chin with a pen. “You know what? It almost sounds like a-” 

He paused. Red Son waited, expecting some kind of massive, life-changing revelation. 

“Like a what?”

MK opened his mouth, then hesitated. Something about this felt... Familiar? The way Red Son described it, it reminded MK of something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“It almost sounds like a...” He repeated before trailing off again, gaze flicking over Red Son’s face, resting a hand over his own heart.

Another bout of silence passed between them. Then MK suddenly sat up straight, snapping his fingers.

“Oh! Maybe it’s stress!”

“Is that all?”

“I mean, it makes sense!” MK shrugged. “You’ve been super intense about the song, and we kinda fought a lot, so maybe your brain’s just all out of whack from that.”

“That is the dumbest-” He stopped to think about it. “…Actually, that is completely reasonable.”

“See? No need to worry about some weird curse or allergies. And, hey, if it gets worse, we know some of the best people that can help. You just need to relax!”

“I am relaxed.”

“You’re sitting like you’re ready to spar me right now.” MK tried to deadpan but failed fantastically as his mischievous grin shone through.

“That's irrelevant.” Red Son quickly uncrossed his arms and adjusted his posture, clearing his throat.

“Alright, so, now that we’ve established you’re probably not cursed, should we get back to the song?”

“Very well.”

Still, as they got back to work, neither of them could shake the feeling that there was something they weren’t seeing. They sat in silence for a moment. Their song was so close to being finished, but the ending still remained unresolved.

Red Son tapped his fingers against his knee, deep in thought. MK stared at the scribbled lyrics on his notebook, chewing on the cap of his pen.

“What if we combined them?” MK suggested.

“Combine what, exactly?”

“The pre-chorus and the first two lines.” MK clarified, tapping the page with a claw. “I think it kinda fits. Like, it has the push-and-pull thing we both wanted. By repeating the first line, it has a definitive ending, but leaves it open, like there's a bigger meaning behind it!”

“I see, and what would it sound like?” Red Son perked up. “Would that work?”

MK quickly wrote down the lines and cleared his throat.

"Should I walk away, should I put it out?

But something inside says I have no doubt.

Flick a match, watch the embers fly,

Didn’t mean to start it, but I won’t lie."

There was silence. MK held his breath, watching Red Son’s face closely. For distaste or approval.

“I can't believe it, that's perfect!” Red Son gasped, running his fingers over the words on the page MK jotted down. “A middle ground…”

“Look at us compromising!” MK nudged him playfully with a happy purr. “Mei would be so proud!”

Red Son ignored the way MK’s voice resonated in his ears, the way he could feel it through where their arms touched. It sent a strange shiver through his entire body, but he shoved it aside, focusing instead on the way their lyrics finally clicked into place, and how the final piece of the puzzle snapped together 

MK hummed the melody under his breath, tapping his foot to the beat. He shot Red Son a grin, eyes bright with excitement. 

“We actually did it... The song’s done!”

They sat there for a moment, letting it sink in. In three days, they'll be performing this song at the festival for all to hear.

“We should rest for tonight.” Red son smirked, standing up. “We shall burn the competition to the ground.”

“That’s the spirit!” MK laughed, standing up beside him. “But, y’know, figuratively, not literally… Hey, wait, does that mean you'll perform with me on stage?”

MK's question hung in the air, and Red Son blinked. He’d been so focused on getting the song right, he hadn’t thought about it.

“You…” Red Son said, eyes wide. “You actually want me to perform with you on stage, even after everything?”

“Of course I do!” MK grinned, clearly not picking up on the hesitation. “We finally finished this, and then we'll show everyone how it’s done!”

At their last rehearsal in front of Mei and Tang, he’d almost blown the whole thing. His hands had shaken, his heart had raced, and he’d barely been able to get halfway through the song before giving up completely.

But this time, he wasn’t going to let MK down.

“I… I can do it.” Red Son muttered, almost to himself, but he swallowed that doubt down. He had to. “You’re right, we’re a team, and we'll do this together.”

“All right, we're totally gonna win!” MK cheered with a wagging tail.

“We will.” Red Son was nervous, but even so, he'll do this for MK.

Very soon, they would face the festival. And this time, Red Son was ready to stand by MK’s side, not just with the song, but on the stage as well.

Out of nowhere, MK pulled Red Son into a tight hug. It was sudden, but the warmth was overwhelming in the best way. Red Son froze at first, unsure how to react. But the longer he stayed there, the more the pain in his chest vanished. It felt... Right. His heartbeat slowed, and the overwhelming sense of nervousness he'd been carrying for weeks faded. He felt a sense of peace he hadn’t even realized he'd been missing.

“Thanks for sticking with me.” MK purred, muffled against Red Son's shoulder. “I know I can be a lot, but you’re really helping me out. It's been fun.”

Red Son's hands trembled at first, unsure whether to return the hug. But then, he dared place his hands on MK’s back, hugging him back, just as tightly. 

"You make it worth it." He replied quietly, his voice nearly lost beneath the rush of emotions he didn’t fully understand. “We’ll do this. Together.”

"Yeah, together.” When MK pulled back, his eyes were bright, full of that infectious energy. “This is gonna be amazing!"

Red Son nodded as a rare, genuine smile crossed his face. In three days, they would face the stage, but right now, at this moment, with MK still grinning at him, Red Son felt ready for whatever came next.

He could do this. For himself. For MK. For them both.

“C’mon, let’s head out.” MK broke the embrace and ran to the ladder before racing down, calling out into the forest. “We gotta prepare for the best night ever!”

Red Son actually believed it.

Chapter Text

The dream began like it always did, with Red Son standing at the edge of the once-beautiful garden. But this time, it was silent. 

The fire, the one that had burned everything away before, had stopped. The land was scorched, charred black in places, but the flames had been smothered, cutting off abruptly, it seems, and a portion of the jungle and a couple of flowerbeds survived. A few resilient petals peeked from the edges, trying to bloom despite the devastation. The distant volcano, once roaring with fury, sat silent with remnants of smoke drifting into the sky.

Red Son took a slow step forward. His boots crunched against the ash and charcoal beneath him. His heart felt heavy, and a pang of sorrow twisted in his chest. This place had once been full of life. Now, it was reduced to this. He crouched down, letting his fingers skim the soot-covered ground. The delicate, crisp feeling of the earth under his hand made him pause. He’d dreamed of this place too many times to ignore the utter devastation.

But then, from the edges of the scorched garden, a faint rustling broke the quiet. Red Son’s head snapped up at the sounds. Monkeys began to emerge from the section jungle that was saved. They moved cautiously at first, as if unsure of him, but instead of retreating, they ventured closer. Red Son jumped to his feet, watching them intently. The monkeys chattered and cooed as they approached him. Some carried fruit, others with delicate flower pods and sprigs of greenery. A few of them jumped to shoulders and pressed seeds into his hand, urging him to plant them, to bring life back to the barren land. 

It was a quiet moment, peaceful in its own strange way. The troop of monkeys continued their silent offerings, looking to him as if he held the power to change this place, to make it whole again. He stared at the seeds in his palm, a deep sense of responsibility and hope settling in his heart. Maybe he could do something this time. Maybe the garden could bloom once more.

He cradled the seeds in his palm before pressing one gently into the ash-softened soil. His fingers worked carefully, brushing the surface with care, covering the little pod gently. Then another, and another, replanting as much as he could.

As he moved from one patch of earth to the next, a cool breeze rolled in and the sun was blotted out. The scent of the air was dank with sulfur and moisture. He paused his work and glanced up. A soft mist began to fall from the overcast, gray sky. The first drops kissed his skin, chill against his face. The monkeys chirped excitedly at the change in weather, scampering through the clearing, jumping from stone to branch with happy chirps. Some gathered around Red Son, watching curiously, until one bold little monkey mirrored his motion and dug a small hole. He blinked in surprise, then gave a soft chuckle.

"Like this." He said, not expecting them to understand, yet they did. He planted another seed, and the monkey copied him. Soon, others joined in, tossing their own seeds into shallow pits before covering them and patting the soil down, occasionally getting distracted and flinging wads of wet dirt at one another.

Red Son found himself smiling among the destruction. The rain thickened into a steady drizzle, washing soot from the surviving flora and soaking into the earth as passive rumbles of thunder shook the sky in the distance. Where ash once clung to dead roots, clean water trickled. The worst was over, and it was time to regrow.

He looked around, soaked and muddy. He didn't care about the filth that smothered his matted hair and expensive clothing. He put it aside, because he was no longer alone. Dozens of tiny hands were helping, planting life into the burned remains of their home. The monkeys sang in celebration, and Red Son’s heart finally felt just a little lighter since arriving here.

The dream warped, becoming hazy, and was quickly fading away. When he opened his eyes, it was still dark. He was back in reality. He didn't have much time to think about the strange dream. No, his mind once was elsewhere.

By the time the sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden hue across the towering steel walls of the Fortress, Red Son was wide awake. In fact, he'd been awake since before dawn, pacing his room, half-dressed and buzzing with such intensity he didn’t quite know how to feel. His nerves felt like static dancing under his skin, exciting and terrified all at once. It was ridiculous and utterly absurd. He had no reason to feel like this. And yet… He couldn’t stop smiling. 

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Tonight was the night. The music festival and the performance with MK would happen within twelve hours.

Red Son groaned and flopped onto his bed, only to immediately sit back up, too jittery to sit still. His heart raced and his thoughts spun in constant, obsessive circles. He hadn’t felt this elated since his father had taken him on a father-son fishing trip after the entire bone demon incident. That rare moment of pride and connection… It felt incredibly similar, yet… Not?

He stood before his wardrobe, staring blankly at his collection of perfectly tailored outfits. But nothing felt right, none was flashy or cool enough. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to go all out. Not just to impress the crowd, but MK as well. He wanted to look good. No, great! He wanted MK to see him and see him smile.

With a frustrated sneer, Red Son pulled out his favorite outfit. It was a sleek, black, cropped blazer ensemble with blazing red and orange accents. He also had black pants with the same patterns and shiny black boots. There was subtle embroidery of flames along the cuffs. Underneath, he'll wear a red, sleeveless, translucent satin crop top with a bold v-neck. 

With his attire chosen, he packed up makeup bags and soaps to shower with later. He would get dressed and pretty up before the show. However, he still needed to do his hair, so he picked up a brush and got to work. It was a tangled mess after tossing and turning all night, and his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted each strand. He couldn't get it right, so he just tied up and saved that rat's nest for later. It was easier to get the knots out after washing it. 

Even if he was still a tad disheveled, he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked nervous. He didn’t know why he felt like he was about to confess something when all he was doing was playing some silly keyboard notes on a stage. But the thought of standing next to MK again, singing the words they’d written together, ignited a fire spark within his chest. He wasn’t ready. And yet, somehow, he was more ready than he’d ever been.

Red Son stumbled into his work boots as he half-ran through the main hallway, clutching his bags of soap in one hand and cautiously carrying his attire in the other. His hair was usually immaculate and pristine, but right now, was still tousled. It was so bad that a few tangled strands curled defiantly in front of his face. His black tank top was slightly wrinkled, and there was a noticeable smudge of engine grease on his cheek from tuning the truck earlier. He didn’t care, not right now.

He pretty much slid down the steps outside, sprinting across the large courtyard where his all-terrain truck sat humming, prepped and waiting. Today it would serve its most noble purpose of carrying the keyboard, guitars, cables, and lighting rigs to the music festival stage. Like all of his vehicles, a complicated transformation sequence would provide him and MK with a classier ride. Thanks to Bob, MK's favorite, and General Ironclad, the most reliable bull clone bot, the two performers could ride in style while the Bull clones would deliver their items to the stage. Ironclad was already in the driver's seat, waiting for his master and waving as the fire demon approached. Bob was probably in the back doing gods know what.

Red Son was halfway to the vehicle when he heard a voice behind him.

"Red Son?"

He froze mid-step and skidded around. His parents stood on the steps above him, silhouetted against the fortress's towering entryway. DBK had his arms folded, brow raised in confusion, while Princess Iron Fan sat elegantly on his shoulder with her eyes narrowed and chin up. Neither of them looked angry. Instead, they appeared puzzled.

"You’re leaving looking like that?" Iron Fan asked, eyes flicking over his appearance, looking on with disgust. "Not even a coat? And your hair’s a disaster."

"You didn’t even wash your face." His father remarked. "Is everything alright?"

Red Son hesitated, then quickly blurted out, 

"It’s for a festival! We're transporting the equipment and practicing first, I’ll get ready later. I know that I must be presentable for our family's sake, but don't worry, none of those city peasants will see me."

"You seem unusually…" Iron Fan paused delicately, "…Invested."

"It’s an important event." Responded plainly. They knew that he's been spending more time at the noodle shop, but he never told them what for.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time out there. With the Monkie Kid again." She nodded slowly but didn’t say anything else. DBK, meanwhile, tilted his head thoughtfully. 

"He asked for help, and I offered my genius insight, that’s all."

"Hmm." DBK grunted, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing more.

"Well, enjoy yourself." Iron Fan studied her son for a moment longer, then finally gave a small nod. "Do try not to set anything on fire."

If they seemed satisfied with his answers, then it was time to go. He moved to turn back toward the truck, but then his mother called again.

"Wait, Red Son, one last thing."

He turned before she continued.

"What is your relationship with the Monkie Kid?"

The question hit him like a blast of icy wind in the scorching desert.

"W- What?"

"We’ve… Noticed." DBK squinted, to get a better look at the expression on his son's face. "You’ve been leaving the fortress longer now. And when you bring him over, you're smiling more and talking less, listening instead."

"Yes, we both know how you always love to ramble." Iron Fan frowned slightly. "...Is he important to you?"

Red Son’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His thoughts were racing. He couldn’t lie to them. But he didn’t even know what to say. What WAS the Noodle Boy to him? They weren’t enemies, none of them were anymore. They’d become something more than allies, like friends or collaborators… And lately, something even more confusing. His chest ached at the thought. It made his heart flutter and dance. His body went cold and hot at the same time, just like it's been doing, especially within the last three days.

"I… I don’t know." He admitted, partially to himself. "Maybe."

There was a long pause. His parents exchanged a glance that he couldn’t interpret.

"Then find out." Then DBK gave a quick, dismissive nod.

"And tell him we expect him for dinner one day." Iron Fan demanded as they turned to leave him to his own devices.

Red Son shook his head, brushing off the cryptic words of his parents as he slid into the truck where the bots were waiting. His mother's demand about MK and dinner barely registered. It was the usual type of thing his parents said when they weren’t quite sure how to deal with his latest behavior. Talking over the dinner table seems to be the easiest way to get across to each other, and apparently, they wanted MK to be included this time,

As the truck took off, Red Son stared ahead, trying to focus on the ride. The sun hung high over the desert, casting long shadows across the sand as Ironclad expertly maneuvered the massive vehicle through the rough terrain. Meanwhile, Red Son tugged at a knot in his hair, realizing that he really must look pretty bad at the moment. The loose strands tangled and twisted. He was trying and failing to work out a particularly stubborn knot at the back of his head he couldn't quite reach, fighting the battle with his best brush.

He cursed softly under his breath. His hair had always been a point of pride, something he’d meticulously cared for over the years, but right now, it was the least of his problems. As his fingers fumbled at the tangle, something nagged at the back of his mind. As usual, it was MK.

He’d seen the way MK managed his own scruffy hair, and more recently, his fur. He could fix it in seconds, breaking through knots with his claws like it was nothing. Red Son can't help but remember when MK helped him a while ago. He really felt more like a monkey and less like a bull at that moment. MK probably felt the obsessive instinct to fix his hair at the mere sight of a tangle. And maybe... MK could help again. But the thought of asking was absurd. He wasn’t a monkey, after all, it might be weird, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask for something like that. That would feel too much like admitting that part of him actually did want MK to be there for him, helping with something so mundane.

He groaned inwardly as his hand slipped again, unable to get the knot loose. As if on cue, his mind once again wandered back to the Noodle Boy. His odd smile, the way he would half laugh when he said something that sounded so ridiculous, but somehow still made sense. He didn’t seem to care about failure, he always just got up and tried again, even more determined to get it right.

But what really stood out, what he couldn’t stop thinking about, was the scar on MK’s right hand. Every time Red Son thought of it, it was like his mind refused to move past it. It had been there since the first time they’d met, he remembered first spotting it during their battle at the weather station. Red Son didn’t get why it stuck with him, but for some reason, it always seemed to linger in his thoughts. Maybe it had something to do with the strange feeling in his chest when he saw MK, like his heart was trying to do those annoying somersaults.

"Why am I thinking about him again?" Red Son growled to himself as the truck bumped along a rocky road, now free from the sandy dunes.

He couldn’t tell if he was frustrated with himself or with MK, but it didn’t matter. Tonight, the festival was in town. It would be just him and MK on the stage. He can't mess up again.

When they finally pulled up to the noodle shop, a monkey was already outside waiting for them, bouncing and waving them down with both arms. Even his tail was wagging.

"Over here!" MK called out, grinning wide with a smile full of sharp teeth.

Red Son stepped out, eyeing the pile of supplies MK had already gathered, such as the guitar case, the keyboard bag, speakers, cables, far more than he expected MK to have prepped on his own. For once, he's efficient.

"All we need to do now is load it up, Ironclad and Bob will handle the rest." Red Son instructed, gesturing for the bull clone to get to work.

Together, they moved everything. MK chatted the whole time and even said hi to the bots, animated and buzzing with energy, talking about the festival, wondering how big the crowd might be this year, whether Mei had managed to snag front-row seats. But Red Son found himself distracted. He kept glancing at MK’s face. His smile... Was it different? It wasn’t his usual wide, careless grin. This one was a little shy around the edges, brighter somehow, like he was hopeful. It made something unfamiliar twist pleasantly in Red Son’s chest. Lately, his sickness changed. It's more bearable with less nausea, but it burned more than ever now.

Once they finished loading everything up for Bob to deliver, Red Son dusted off his hands, moving to the side of the truck. He grabbed his garment bag, his other things. And then, with a flourish, he pressed a button in the truck's internal command panel. Gears trunned and squealed as mechanical whirs sounded from beneath the truck as part of the undercarriage unfolded, revealing a classy sports car, fire-red with an obsidian black trim. This wasn't for racing, it was for riding in style.

"This is our ride for the evening." Red Son turned to MK with a smug smirk.

"WHAT- No way, that’s so cool!" MK’s unique eyes sparkled like glitter. "I was gonna drive us there in my-"

"I got it because we are NOT going in your peasant-mobile." Red Son sneered, but he was grinning upon seeing MK's elevated reaction.

Bob sped off in a truck with their equipment, leaving a small cloud of dust in its wake as it trailed toward the festival grounds. Red Son stood there a moment longer, watching as the vehicle rounded the corner.

"Come inside!" MK’s voice cut in, bright and eager. "I got something for ya!"

Without waiting, MK grabbed his wrist, not tightly, just enough to tug him along, and led him into the noodle shop. It was quiet, wasn't it supposed to be the rush hour? Red Son blinked at the empty tables, the spotless tables, and the distinct lack of pissed off yelling from the kitchen. 

"They’re all setting up at the festival." MK explained, catching his glance around. "Even Sandy’s helping them with a food cart."

Of course, that left just them. His attention snapped forward when he noticed steam curling up from two bowls waiting at the counter. He could already smell it. His favorite spicy noodles. Except, not like how MK had been making them. The aroma hit him instantly, and the fire demon could tell that it was layered with new herbs and spices. It smelled fantastic.

"Is this because of a special occasion?" Red Son asked, already sitting down.

"Well, duh!" MK plopped down next to him with his own identical bowl, kicking his feet. "I gotta fuel my partner before his big debut."

…Partner? Why did that word feel like a sparkling ember in his chest? Red Son sat beside him, taking up his chopsticks and bringing the noodles to his lips. The first bite was perfect, it's probably the best thing he's ever tasted that MK had made, and perhaps in general.

He glanced over, just in time to catch MK’s face turning red not from embarrassment, but from desperately trying to handle the spice of his own food. MK was fanning his mouth with both hands with tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

"H- hot! It’s so good, but- Hhhhhh- Hot- Hot- SO HOT!"

Normally, Red Son would have had a snarky comment locked and loaded, something about monkeys having weak taste buds. Maybe even a pointed brag about his superior spice tolerance. But instead, he laughed. It wasn't in his usual mocking way, this one was... Fonder? And the sound surprised even him as he laughed. MK blinked at him through watery eyes, looking ridiculously proud of himself despite his burning tongue. Red Son shook his head with a small sigh and went back to eating.

Suddenly, MK launched himself from the counter, scrambling to the fridge. Red Son watched, still chuckling under his breath, as MK yanked open the door, grabbed a full carton of milk. To Red Son’s absolute horror and amusement, he chugged it straight from the source. No glass, no pause, right from the carton. By the time MK slammed the empty carton down with a gasping, victorious wheeze, Red Son was nearly doubled over and shaking with laughter.

"I have NEVER seen anyone drink like that in my entire LIFE!" Red Son managed between breaths.

"The spicy noodles won this round." MK coughed, wiping his mouth but grinning like a fool. "But I'm alive, right?"

Still smiling, Red Son returned to his own bowl, far more composed, though the occasional amused huff still escaped him as he ate. MK wandered back over, sitting back down beside him again, noticeably more comfortable. But just as he settled, his eyes squinted a little, zeroing in on something. Red Son didn’t notice at first, not until MK leaned in slightly.

"Red?" MK squinted. "What happened to your hair?"

"Didn't have time to fix it." The fire demon replied cautiously. "What about it?"

MK just gave him a slightly disturbed look. The messy, windswept, slightly knotted disaster that was usually a pristine, perfectly-styled updo that was practically begging for help. MK's hands itched to fix it.

"You’ve got a whole bunch of tangles back here." MK laughed softly, reaching out instinctively, desperately wanting to do something about it. And, weirdly, Red Son didn’t pull away.

"Oh, right, you’re good at that kind of thing, aren’t you?" Red Son said quietly, almost grumbling.

"Huh?"

"With hair." Red Son clarified, eyes darting away. "You untangled it before… That time."

"Wanna let me help again?" MK asked with a slight purr.

It was EXACTLY what Red Son was hoping for. He pretended to hesitate before speaking.

"…Fine."

"Alright, I'll be quick." He chirped, already dragging the stool closer to get behind. MK’s face was alight with joy, excited to fix what's been bothering him.

Red Son tried to act unbothered, casually turning his back to MK like it was no big deal, but his heart was doing absolutely ridiculous things in his chest, and the burning in his stomach was back. It was probably the spice, yeah, that was it. MK’s fingers were warm when they gently combed through the long crimson hair, careful not to tug too hard when he found the worst of the knots.

"Man, what did you do to this?" MK snickered, half-laughing under his breath. "I've never seen it like this!"

"I was in a rush to get here." Red Son muttered defensively, though he didn’t exactly hate the feeling of MK’s fingers sifting slowly through his hair, untangling with a surprising amount of patience and focus.

For a monkey, his touch was soothing. It would be nice to have MK do his hair every day since it tends to tangle easily. A comfortable silence fell over them for a bit, save for MK humming quietly, that same little melody from their rehearsals. It was domestic in a way, and far too easy to get lost in. Red Son wished there was a mirror nearby so he could watch MK's hands at work. He still had yet to get a closer look at the scar on the monkey's hand, he wanted more than anything to study it. He barely registered MK speaking again until he felt a gentle tug near the worst knot.

"Hey, Red?" MK’s voice was softer this time. "Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been all over the place today."

Red Son tensed for half a second, but with MK’s hands still carefully combing through his hair, reminding him that he was still here and helping. The words didn’t feel so hard to say.

"I’m…" Red Son exhaled. "Nervous."

"About tonight?"

"About everything."

Another pause. And then, MK barked a curt laugh.

"Well, lucky for you…" MK leaned close to his ear, like it was a secret. "You’re not doing any of this alone."

Red Son’s breath caught embarrassingly in his throat. MK’s voice was right in his ear, his breath tickling the edges, too close for his frazzled brain to handle. The hands in his hair were quickly forgotten.

"…Ah." Red Son gave a tiny, awkward cough, trying to ignore the way his ears burned. "I suppose that is fortunate."

"Yeah, super fortunate!" MK chuckled, ruffling the back of Red Son’s hair now that it was mostly tangle-free. 

But before Red Son could sputter a response to that, MK broke through the last knot with a jolt. Just like that, his hair was perfect, and all it took was ten minutes instead of an hour. After playing with it briefly, MK got up from the stool.

"See ya!" MK grinned over his shoulder. "When you're done eating, come meet me, I'll be upstairs like usual!"

Red Son sat frozen for half a second longer than he meant to. He could feel MK’s touch still lingering on his scalp. It was still warm, even without fire magic. After finishing his meal, for reasons beyond logic or sense, Red Son found himself standing and following MK up the stairs without another word.

Chapter Text

Red Son stepped into MK’s room, taking in the mess of posters, instruments, and random trinkets littered around. It was chaotic, but oddly comfortable these days. Not once had it been cleaned since they started writing. 

"We’ve got time before we gotta suit up." MK grinned at him, tossing his yellow jacket on his bed. "Might as well warm up properly, huh?"

"We don't have our instruments, Noodle Boy." Red Son lifted a brow and motioned to the empty room. "How are we supposed to practice?"

Without missing a beat, MK plucked a bundle of fur from his own head and blew over them like dandelion fuzz. In a shimmer of gold, the strands twisted shimmered, turning into a microphone, multiple amps, an electric guitar, and a keyboard right in front of Red Son’s eyes.

Red Son exhaled slowly, sitting at the keys. He stretched his hands and pressed down chords, allowing muscle memory to take over, while MK slung his electric guitar over his shoulder.

Then, with a nod from MK, they began. The music flowed easier than he expected. Red Son matched MK’s rhythm, pressing keys at the precise timing, even without sheet music that he had painstakingly learned. He had memorized everything now.

MK started to sing the first verse. At that moment, Red Son realized that MK was about to sing the entire song for the first time. And, by the gods and the heavenly realm above, it was magical. He was so focused on MK's voice, he didn't even listen to the lyrics like he was supposed to. It was quick, and by the time the final chord rang out and faded into silence, Red Son could only stare, stunned.

"We didn’t mess up!" MK broke into a huge grin, tail lashing happily. "That was awesome!"

"…It was." He muttered, but even he could hear how breathless it sounded.

MK, blissfully unaware of how Red Son was feeling, pumped his fist in the air withlaughter bubbling out of him. The instruments shimmered briefly before dissolving in a puff of vapor. 

"I’m gonna double-check our stuff real quick." MK said, already looking around his room."You can go ahead and take a shower!"

Red Son gave a short nod, slipping away into the bathroom. The shower was, regrettably, a battlefield. Stray tufts of dark fur clung to nearly every surface, clumping around the drain and sticking stubbornly to the tile walls. Yuck. The scent of citrus and ginger lingered stronger here. It was oddly comforting, and also mildly infuriating.

Disgusted but resigned, Red Son powered through. Afterward, he dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist as he inspected himself in the mirror. Time to prepare. After dressing down in simple, loose black clothing for comfort, Red Son began the slow process of applying his makeup.

They had agreed on a fire theme, and Red Son was an expert when it came to anything hot. Tonight, he wanted to look good. He started with a base of deep crimson, blending upward from his jawline to his cheekbones like rising embers. Around his eyes, he painted bold streaks of orange and gold, sharp at the edges like flames. Thin lines of black traced beneath his lower lash line, breaking apart into little cracks, like scorched stone or wood barely containing the blaze beneath. Over his lips, he lined a dark tint of charcoal black. On his bottom lip, he drew two, bold red lines, with each one under his eye teeth. It was glossy and blended perfectly with the rest of his face.

As a final touch, his hair was tied up in a tight bun and stuck in a Flame hair pin. It was extremely dramatic, and maybe a little much. But when he caught his own reflection fully assembled, something about it felt right. Tonight was important, and for reasons he didn’t entirely understand, he wanted to be perfect. Maybe he didn't want to disappoint MK again.

Red Son fit into his blazer. It was deep black with fiery red accents along the seams, subtle patterns like smoldering embers catching in the light when he moved, it looked somehow brighter outside the fortress. The exposed slice of his midriff framed by the cut of his top added just enough flash without sacrificing elegance.

He felt confident, borderline dangerous. When he stepped out of the bathroom and tossed his old comfortable outfit over his shoulder, MK was laying sideways across his bed, scrolling idly through his phone. The monkey happened to glance up and was quickly paralyzed in place. His eyes slowly widened, like he forgot how to blink as his phone lowered without him realizing.

"…Woah."

That single word hit the fire demon harder than any elaborate compliment could have.

"Well?" He asked even though his voice was edged with nervousness he couldn’t quite hide. "How do I look?"

MK didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze lingered, tracing over the fiery details on Red Son’s face, his blazer and translucent fabric, and finally… Very noticeably… Pausing on the exposed stretch of his abs.

"MK." Red Son cleared his throat awkwardly. "Eyes up here."

"Huh?" MK gasped, the tip of his tail flicking. "Oh! You look incredible! I just- Wow!"

He sat up fully now, a grin spreading across his face though his eyes kept darting back to the forbidden midsection.

"Actually…" MK scratched at his cheek shyly. "I might need to, uh… Borrow some of that makeup expertise. I think I want some, too, but I'm not good at any of that stuff."

"I suppose I could be persuaded to assist." Red Son smirked, folding his arms. "Grab a stool and come sit."

MK grinned, bright and eager as he snatched a stool from the corner of his room and dragged it into the bathroom. He sat down without hesitation, tail swaying behind him.

Red Son turned, reaching for his makeup brushes only to pause. Dark fur, a mandarin face mark, and a tail. That's a problem.

"Noodle Boy." Red Son’s brow furrowed. "You’re not seriously planning to go on stage like that, are you?"

"Like what?" MK blinked, confused.

"Look in the mirror behind you." Red Son gestured sharply at him. "In full demon form. Or did you forget you have a secret identity to maintain?"

MK snapped his head around to stare.

"OH CRAP."

He scrambled to his feet so fast the stool clattered behind him. 

"I forgot! I didn’t even think about it, I’ve been stuck like this all morning, no, wait, a whole WEEK- Ohhh Nooo I am SO screwed!"

"MK." Red Son grabbed his shoulder. "Breathe."

MK immediately sucked in air too fast and eaened himself a coughing fit.

"Properly, Noodle Boy." 

That earned a weak, nervous laugh, but MK listened. Inhale, hold, exhale, repeat. Red Son realized that MK was counting by seven. He recognized that breathing technique, and was surprised that someone like MK knew about it. Once MK calmed down a little, Red Son placed the brushes back on the counter.

"Great." MK grumbled, ears flattening in embarrassment. "I guess I’ve just been so worked up about tonight I didn’t even notice. Normally it just goes away after a while when I get stuck, I haven't been like this since last year when Monkey King and Macaque helped me out."

"There must be some method to undo it." Red Son hummed thoughtfully. "Did you try meditation?"

"Yup, I tried that, no dice." MK scratched awkwardly at his cheek. "Maybe I just need help relaxing."

"You are possibly the worst candidate for relaxation I’ve ever met."

"Gee, thanks, I know." MK sighed.

"Very well, just sit still. I’ll work on your makeup while you attempt to somehow relax."

"Cool with me." MK gave a thumbs-up.

Red Son shook his head and got to work. He didn’t go heavy with the makeup this time. A dark black foundation deepened and covered MK's face marking. But what Red Son took the most care with were the flecks. Tiny, glittering gold specks like stardust were painted in gentle arcs across his cheekbones and right over the bridge of his nose. MK's shoulders sagged and his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the feeling.

It wasn’t until he was almost finished that Red Son realized something.

"…Hold still."

"Uhh, I am holding still."

"No, there’s-" Red Son leaned in, squinting. "When did you get this?"

He traced a finger just over the faint scar cutting across the bridge of MK’s nose that was nearly covered in foundation. It was extremely deep, like it sliced deep into the cartilage and nasal bone.

"Oh, that?" MK laughed like it was nothing. "Got that from the Seven Star Sword."

"Excuse me?" Red Son froze and his hands stopped mid-motion, suddenly feeling cold.

"Yeah!" MK said far too casually, tugging his shirt collar down a little to reveal another scar. This one was far more brutal, deep-set in the crook of his right shoulder. Fur refused to grow back."Also got impaled by it, right here. That one sucked way more."

Red Son just started, because what was he supposed to say in this situation? The Seven Star Sword was a cursed weapon of legend. The blade that cuts through more than flesh. The stories his mother told him about that sword were closer to nightmares, wounds that festered not just on skin, but seeping down into the soul as well. Even immortals in heaven feared it. And MK just… Laughed it off.

"You-" Red Son hissed, genuinely baffled. "Do you EVER consider the fragility of your mortal form?"

"You’re supposed to be helping me relax!" MK wheezed, shaking with laughter. 

But Red Son couldn't help but continue staring at his shoulder.

"...You survived that."

"Yeah, I guess I did." MK puffed his chest out. "To be fair, the person wielding it didn't really want to hurt me. It's a long story, the nose cut was on purpose but the shoulder was a total accident due to a misunderstanding."

Red Son reluctantly tore his gaze away from the scars, shaking off the lingering awe, and moved to finish the makeup. But as MK’s hand fell from tugging at his shirt, just before the fabric fell back into place, Red Son caught a glimpse of something else.

A marking, stamped right in the center of MK’s chest. It was the same rich, mandarin hue as his face mask and the splash of color caught his eyes. It was almost shaped like a heart, except for the two symmetrical crescent-shaped cuts at the bottom. It was more reminiscent of a butterfly than a true heart. And then it was gone, hidden away beneath the fabric of his white shirt. Red Son hadn’t known that was there. He found himself oddly disappointed that he didn’t get to look at it just a little longer.

"…Ahem." Red Son cleared his throat loudly, pushing the feeling down. "Enough distractions, we need to finish getting ready."

Red Son set back to work, meticulously painting gold dust and small shimmering flames across a face that had somehow survived so much. 

"There." Red Son gave a final swipe of gold down MK’s nose and between his eyes. "Finished."

He expected MK’s usual big grin, expected some snarky comment or wag of the tail, but what he didn’t expect was the subtle shimmer of golden light overtaking MK’s form, the soft pulse of magic smoothing over fur, flattening his features. His human face beamed up at him once he realized what happened.

"Oh, hey! I'm back!" MK laughed, looking in the mirror. "Look at that! Wow, I look cool!"

"You shifted back without realizing it." Red Son recovered quickly, huffing through his nose, though some small part of him felt triumphant. 

"Yeah! I can kinda do it slow and subtle or in a bright flash and change instantly " MK said, looking for a tail that was no longer there. "Handy trick when I don’t wanna blind anyone, I guess what happened just now was a mix of both, so that was new."

Red Son knew many powerful demons could manage that sort of control. MK was technically a demon now, even though he was truly something else entirely. MK's glittering eyes were back to brown, but the golden specks from the makeup stood as a reminder just how absurdly beautiful they truly were.

"Alright." Red Son announced, already turning to tidy his makeup tools. "Go get dressed, we haven’t got all night."

Red Son left the bathroom and summoned a book, taking extra care to sit down without wrinkling his attire. It didn’t even take long for the door to burst back open.

The main feature was a loose black and red plaid long sleeve shirt, layered messily beneath a sleeveless black denim top, its ripped hem adding an almost feral edge. His black shorts hung low on one side of his hip, cinched tight by a bold red belt wrapped snug around his waist, leaving his legs bare except for his calves, which were covered by black stockings and red shoes. His signature red headband was tied deliberately on the right side of his head instead of the back, like it was supposed to be some kind of rebellious twist on his usual look. His hair was utter chaos. It was wild and scruffy, spiked in every which way like it refused to be tamed, no doubt an intentional choice.

And with Red Son's makeup, MK looked like a rockstar. Even so, it had a flair only the Noodle Boy could pull off. This was very much an "MK outfit."

"…Hah." Red Son’s lips twitched, helpless against the small huff that escaped his mouth.

"Well, what d’ya think?" MK spun in place. "Is it too much or not enough?"

Red Son scoffed lightly, but his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. The outfit was a bit crazy, yes, but every piece had intent. A very MK kind of balance between edgy streetwear and an eye-catching disaster.

"It’s aggressively you." Red Son said, crossing his arms. "Unrefined and chaotic, and yet it works perfectly."

"Awesome." MK grinned, clearly taking that as the highest compliment.

"Come on, then, it's getting late." Red Son sighed, shaking his head with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Grab your things."

MK scrambled to collect his phone and a pair of fingerless gloves from the bedside table. Red Son checked the time one last time, they were right on schedule. They both slipped into their boots, MK’s heavier and scuffed up, Red Son’s polished and pristine even now.

"Hey, Red?" As they moved to the door, MK hesitated for half a second. When the fire demon glanced over, he continued. "Thanks… For helping me out there. I’d probably still be stress-shedding in a corner if you weren’t around until I lost all my fur and looked human again."

"Someone has to make sure you’re presentable." Red Son felt heat prick at his face that wasn't from his fire, but he simply gave a curt nod, feigning indifference. 

Together, they headed down the stairs, the buzz of the city night waiting for them outside. The cool summer breeze hit as they stepped out the front door, MK shivering a little before adjusting his sleeves. Parked nearby was Red Son’s sleek car, polished to perfection and completely out of place in the street.

"Shotgun!" MK called automatically, jogging toward it.

"There's nobody else here." Red Son followed after him with a laugh. That's another thing he's noticed lately, he's been laughing and smiling the more he stays around MK, like it was becoming a habit. Why? 

He didn’t have time to dwell on it before MK was already in the passenger seat, fiddling with the built-in stereo system like he owned the car. Red Son slid in behind the wheel, giving him a side-eye glare.

The car wired to life beneath his hands, silent yet powerful, like all of his creations. MK, however, had zero appreciation for silence. Pop music immediately filled the cabin as he turned up the beat. MK was already tapping the dash in time with the beat, singing along without shame or hesitation. Red Son should have hated it, pop music rarely had any depth, with the most basic and boring lyrics known to mankind. But when he glanced over briefly to complain, MK was singing with his whole heart, grinning like nothing else existed in the world.

It was suddenly Red Son’s new favorite genre.

The city lights blurred past them as they drove, Red Son effortlessly weaving through traffic in the smooth, quiet ride only a custom sports car could offer. Between verses, MK leaned back, taking in a deep breath.

"Your car still smells new. Like, really new!"

"Naturally." Red Son nodded loudly. "I built it myself."

"Yeah, exactly!" MK sat up again, animated like always. "That’s so cool! You don’t even need magic to make awesome stuff. My mechs fall apart the second my power cuts out. This is really amazing."

For a moment, Red Son was quiet. His parents rarely expressed their pride outright but he knew that they appreciated his work. Hearing complements like this out loud was jarring, but he loved it.

"…Thank you." He said, more genuinely than he expected.

"Of course!" MK just grinned, kicking his feet up on the dash in the most disrespectful way possible. "Still not changing the music though."

Red Son rolled his eyes, but didn’t change the station. And as the neon glow of the venue came into view up ahead, casting wild colors across their faces, Red Son realized something quietly unnerving. He wanted this drive to be longer. 

Because they were getting closer, and he couldn't help but feel like he was about to make an utter fool of himself on stage.

Maybe he wasn't as ready as he thought. 

Chapter Text

They arrived early, and the festival grounds were already teeming with life. Colorful tents and booths lined the streets, each one branded and decked out with eye-catching displays. Performers were warming up, music thrummed faintly from overhead speakers, and the scent of street food was already drifting through the air. MK was practically vibrating in his seat, as Red as one parked the car, jumping out before the car had even fully stopped.

“This is gonna be awesome!” MK yelled into the sky, jumping in a cinderblock to get a better view of the massive venue.

Red Son, however, sat frozen for a beat longer, staring out the windshield at the stage. It was big, much bigger than he anticipated, with far more people than he anticipated.

"Uh-oh…" He hissed regretfully under his breath.

But before he could freak out, MK had already looped a hand around his wrist and tugged him out of the car before snagging his wrist.

“C’mon, let’s find Dadsy and the gang!” MK grinned over his shoulder, blissfully unaware of Red Son’s growing internal crisis.

Red Son could have protested to meditate before their performance, but MK's grip was nice. And for some reason, Red Son let himself be dragged along. They weaved through early festival-goers until they found Pigsy’s food truck set up near the edge of the lot. It was already drawing a crowd, the smell of Pigsy’s iconic noodles always made anyone stop in their tracks. Sandy and Tang were helping take orders. Mo napped in the window while Pigsy was manning the grill. The second he spotted MK approaching, still casually holding Red Son’s wrist, his eyes narrowed like a hawk.

“Heya, MK.” Pigsy greeted, in that suspiciously neutral tone adults used when they were absolutely about to interrogate you later. His gaze flicked down to where MK held him, then back up. Red Son immediately felt a bead of sweat form at his temple.

“What's up, guys, already busy?” He gestured to Red Son without letting go. “Look who I brought! Isn’t this place crazy big this year? This is gonna be so cool!”

“Hey, little man!” Sandy chuckled from the truck window, sending them a wave. “Big day, huh?”

Tang waved as well, silently grinning like a man already gossiping with himself in his head. Pigsy also didn’t say anything else, he just kept looking down. Red Son quietly debated evaporating into ash on the spot so he wouldn't have to deal with this embarrassment.

Tang caught Pigsy’s eyes, and both of them nodded to each other like they had communicated telepathically. 

“Oh hey, MK!” Tang called suddenly with a wide, loving smile. “Is that a new outfit? You gotta tell me everything. Where’d you get it? Are those real rips or stylized? And your hair looks so unique! C’mon, do a spin, let me see!”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I mean-” MK giggled, momentarily thrown off. “Check this out!”

He let go of Red Son’s wrist to start enthusiastically explaining every little detail of his new look, showing concept art her drew on his phone.

Red Son barely had a second to register the loss of contact before Pigsy stepped out of the truck and laid a hoof on his shoulder. Without a word, he jerked a hoof towards the back of the truck. Huh? Red Son looked around, half-expecting this to be some kind of prank, but Pigsy was already walking away like it wasn’t even a question. Wariness prickled down Red Son’s spine, but his feet moved anyway, trailing the pig demon behind the truck, away from the crowd.

Once they were out of sight and away from the bustle and from MK, Pigsy turned around, arms crossed, giving Red Son that look… The Dad Look. Red Son recognized it from a mile away.

“So,” Pigsy started, “I’ve been noticing some things.”

“Things?” Red Son stiffened.

“Signs,” Pigsy clarified, squinting at him, “MK’s been acting differently lately. More distracted, and yapping about you like it’s a second full-time job.”

“I-”

“Always talking about your stupid poetry and your stupid inventions. Oh, Red Son made this, Red Son fixed that, Red Son’s so smart, Red Son did this cool thing the other day-” Pigsy mimicked a rough approximation of MK’s voice that honestly sounded nothing like him.

“What-” Red Son was left bewildered. “Where is this even coming from? I’ve done nothing suspicious!”

“Oh yeah?” Pigsy leaned in, voice dropping lower. “Then explain this.”

He pointed sharply to his own wrist, mimicking how MK had been holding Red Son’s mere minutes ago.

“He grabbed me out of nowhere.”Red Son deadpanned. “It means nothing.”

“Nuh-uh, MK don’t just grab just anyone like that. He doesn't cling to people unless he feels safe.”

Why was this piglet acting like his son was in a relatio-

…

Oh. Oooooooohhhhhh.

“This is absurd!” He sneered, although his face was heating up despite himself. “You’re giving me a shovel talk over wrist grabbing?”

“Consider this a warning, hotshot.” Pigsy poked his chest with a sharp hoof. “He trusts you. Don’t go breaking that heart of his, or I swear-”

“We aren't in a relationship!”

“My warning still stands.” Pigsy turned and walked back toward the truck, leaving Red Son standing there with a racing heart.

What in the eighteen hells just happened?

Red Son returned from behind the truck feeling like he’d just been through a battle. Pigsy’s words echoed in his head like the aftermath of an explosion. MK trusts him. As if Red Son didn’t already know that. As if that fact wasn’t exactly why his intestines were currently tying itself into the world's most miserable knot, or some kind of funky ballon animal.

He spotted MK easily, still in the middle of an excited conversation with Tang, now pulling Sandy in to show off some stupid little detail about his belt or something. Red Son didn’t even hear the words. He just watched, because MK was glowing. And for whatever gods-forsaken reason, Red Son was the one MK kept dragging along into that light. When MK noticed him lingering nearby, his entire face lit up in a way that only made the fire in Red Son’s stomach flare.

“There you are!” MK exclaimed, running over without hesitation like Red Son was his designated safe zone. “Where’d you go? I thought you got lost already!”

“I was handling something.” Red Son answered vaguely.

MK didn’t question it. Just grabbed his wrist again and tugged him closer as the crowd around them steadily grew. The stage loomed ahead like a monster with its mouth wide open.

“Looks like it’s almost time.” MK said, practically vibrating with energy. “Are you ready for this?”

Red Son was not ready, not even remotely. In fact, he felt sicker than normal. His mind ran wild with a thousand thoughts. What if he messed up? What if he embarrasses himself? What if he embarrasses HIM? What if MK really ends up regretting asking him to be part of this? What if-

“Hey.”

Red Son blinked down at MK, startled out by his own thoughts. MK was looking at him, ignoring the people's noises and lights that surrounded them, just focusing on him.

“You got this.” MK smiled. “No matter what happens, it's gonna be awesome.”

And despite the pounding in his ears and the rising wave of nausea, Red Son felt himself believe it, even if only a little.

They went backstage when the performances began. Bands would come on, sing a song, and leave. It was that simple. All Red Son had to do was play his chords in time while MK did all the hard jobs like being center stage and entertaining the crowd. But he felt overwhelmingly anxious. This was bad. He shouldn't be here, he doesn't deserve to be here. This was MK's dream, and it just happened to him there.

Red Son’s pacing became frantic all over again, aggressively fanning his face as beads of sweat threatened to wash away his makeup. The old wooden floor creaked under his boots. His hands waved in the air as he imagined possible catastrophe.

“What if I miss the cue? What if a guitar string snaps? What if the amp shorts out? What if I spontaneously combust and set everything on fire and completely ruin everything-”

“Red?”

“This was a mistake. This is beyond ridiculous. I should’ve stayed in my workshop for the rest of this cycle. I should’ve never agreed to-”

MK stepped in and grabbed both his shoulders. His grip cut off Red Son’s panicked rambling. The fire demon blinked down at him as his chest rose and fell fast. His vision blurred, and he couldn't see clearly.

“Breathe.” MK said gently. “Look at me.” 

“I look ridiculous,” He shuttered, “This is not how I present myself. This is undignified-”

“Property, Red. Hey…” MK tilted his head a little, still keeping his hands on Red Son’s shoulders. “It’s our song, remember? It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I'm not asking you to be, either.”

And just like that, the panic shifted into something far worse. Because that was it, the dagger to his heart. Because MK didn’t care about perfection, no, MK cared solely about him. This wasn't about music or applause or public image, he was here to have fun. It hit him like a punch, how badly he wanted MK to both have fun and keep his title as champion. How deeply he cared about being part of something that brought MK joy.

Which meant, for once, Red Son had to stop trying to be flawless. As long as the song keeps playing, a few mistakes won't matter. He took a deep breath. MK’s thumbs brushed gently along the edge of his shoulders. Warmth pooled under his hands, seeping through the fabric.

“…I still might combust and destroy the city again.” Red Son said under his breath.

“Well, at least you’ll go out in style.” MK grinned

Red Son huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh.

“C’mon.” MK said, stepping back and grabbing his hand this time instead of his wrist, tangling their fingers. “We’ve got this.”

As Red Son calmed down, his focus was completely shattered by an announcement.

“Alright! Next up, our reigning champion is back again this year, give it up for MK the Music Kid!”

Red Son cringed inwardly at the stage name. How cliche. But none of that mattered, because the second that name echoed through the speakers, the crowd roared. Cheers, screams, whistles, and excited chanting. The fire demon swore he could hear Mei screaming bloody murder, roaring over everyone like the dragon she was.

That announcement meant that it was their turn, the blood drained from Red Son’s face. Their instruments were already set, waiting under the lights. The glare from the stage was blinding. The speakers buzzed, and the anticipated rumble of the crowd shook under his feet.

Red Son's grip on MK’s hand tightened without thinking. He didn’t fear mortals. They were small, fleeting things to him. His pride wasn’t tied to their praise. But this wasn’t about them, this was about MK. It was MK whose opinion suddenly mattered more than anything, who trusted his music partner to stand beside him tonight.

MK turned to him, bright-eyed, like they weren’t about to step out into the lights.

“Ready?” MK asked, pure excitement radiating off him like static.

No. Absolutely not. Red Son’s stomach was in his throat. His heart was kicking at his ribs like it was trying to flee his body entirely. His palms were damp, but MK still held his hand.

And hells below, if Red Son was going to humiliate himself, he’d burn doing it for him. He forced his feet to move. As they stepped onto the stage together, the lights changed color to red and orange. It was much easier on their eyes but now, they could see the faces in the crowd.

Red Son didn’t remember walking to his keyboard. One second he was standing, and the next, he collapsed. His knees buckled the second he reached the bench, and he all but dropped onto it like dead weight. His elbows braced against the keys to stop from slumping forward entirely. Thankfully, the instruments were turned off.

That's when their hands broke apart. He hated that. MK was already running to the front of the stage like he was born to do it, snatching the microphone with enthusiasm., not nervous in the slightest.

“WHAT’S UP, METROPOLIS!” MK yelled and his voice boomed over the speakers. The crowd exploded, and Red ason was just thinking how it would be impossible for them to get any louder.

And then, because MK likes to have fun, he tossed his electric guitar over his head, the strap catching around him perfectly like he’d done it a thousand times before. Show-off. Red Son’s heart slammed in his chest as the crowd surged, screaming for MK like he was a rockstar, which, apparently, he was. 

MK threw a look over his shoulder with a questionable, Inquisitive expression at Red Son. While he might not be ready, Red Son set his shaky hands on the keys anyway and nodded, flicking his instrument on. If MK was going to drag him into hell… He might as well play while sparks flared bright.

The music kicked in smooth, warm, bass deep enough to rattle Red Son’s bones. His fingers moved automatically over the keys, muscle memory saving him while his brain lagged behind. The mellow start gave him a second, a fragile heartbeat, to catch up. The lights were dim, the glow soft, hazy like a dream. MK didn't stand still. He swayed in place like the music hypnotized him.

Then, at last, MK’s voice slid into the opening verse like it was second nature.

"Flick a match, watch the embers fly

Didn’t mean to start it, but I won’t lie

There’s a heat underneath I don’t understand,

It’s in my chest, like it’s all been planned.”

Red Son knew what this song was about… Ambition. But when MK’s gaze cut over to him during the next line, he remembered that there's different ways to interpret it. 

"Tried to drown it out, tried to keep it inside,

Told myself that the flames would subside,

But there’s something underneath I can’t resist,

A spark in my soul I don’t want to dismiss."

By the pre-chorus, MK's voice turned light as he sang to the ceiling with a beautiful angelic tone, to the crowd, to maybe Red Son most of all.

"Should I walk away, should I put it out?

But something inside says I have no doubt."

And then the chorus hit like a loud blazing spark of fire and the crowd responded with cheers. MK planted his feet, gripping the neck of his guitar as he strummed hard, voice soaring over the stage with heat in every word as he began the chorus.

“Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.

Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.”

Red Son’s heartbeat in time with the rhythm, hands steady as they pressed down keys. This wasn’t like their practice sessions. This was so much more. The second verse crashed down aggressively, as MK paced the stage, rapping the next lines effortlessly.

“Didn’t ask for this, but I lit the fuse,

But when I feel it pull, I'd hate to lose,

What’s a flame but a risk you take,

What’s the point if you won’t embrace,

The burn, the rush, the heat on your face?

Deny it all you want, but it’s set in place.”

MK winked briefly at Red Son without missing a beat and the crowd lost it. MK prowled the edge of the stage and plucked strings on his instrument, pulling them in, spitting out syllables and tongue-twisting rhymes. While he rapped, a recording of him softly singing the same lyrics played simultaneously from the speakers.

“They say keep your cool, keep it all inside,

Never let em' see when the sparks collide,

But pressure builds, and when you might break,

Fire doesn't care what’s at stake.

You fan the smoke, but the embers stay,

Try to douse the heat, but it won’t obey.

So tell me now, do we fight or fold?

Do we burn out, or feed it more coal?”

Red Son’s chest ached. He was caught between focus and awe, pinned in place by MK’s energy, by the message in the music, by the way the words hit him harder than anyone else. And when MK hit the line-

“The burn, the rush, the heat on your face,

Deny it all you want, but it’s set in place.”

His eyes locked dead onto Red Son. There was no surviving this, MK was setting his whole world ablaze, and Red Son couldn't look away. And then, MK turned back to the crowd as his cue for the chorus quickly approached.

“Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.

Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.”

The chorus crashed to an end like a wave wildly smashing shore before washing away, leaving the crowd breathless in its wake.

And then... silence. Not total silence, there was still a chord progression playing.

The soft, steady playing of the keyboard, the only thing left holding the stage together as MK stepped back from the front, chest heaving with exertion, sweat glinting at his brow under the stage lights.

The stage lights dimmed low, casting MK in soft gold. The crowd quieted down, straining to catch whatever was coming next. Red Son sucked in a breath. This was where he could screw it up. This was where it could all fall apart. But his hands... didn’t shake.

His chords came naturally, like he trusted MK to catch him if he fell. Right on cue, MK lifted the mic again to sing. His next lines were not cocky or sharp-edged rapping like before. No, MK’s voice turned beautiful, practically angelic, so smooth and clear in a way that stole the air from Red Son’s lungs.

"Maybe it’s danger, maybe it’s fate..."

Red Son didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing.

"Maybe we’re standing too close to the gate..."

MK closed his eyes as he sang, voice spilling like mist over the hush of the crowd.

"Maybe this fire’s not meant to die..."

It was unfair, absolutely unfair how he could sound like that. Unfair how those words, those melodic sounds, felt like they were only meant for Red Son to hear.

"Maybe we burn, or maybe we fly."

Red Son felt an explosion somewhere inside, like his heart had just given up and burst open. And he never, not once, missed a single note. Neither of them did. The last note of the bridge was high, floating away like smoke, leaving the whole crowd suspended in breathless silence. 

MK suddenly slammed his foot once against the hollow stage, akin to striking flint against stone. The beat came crashing back in and Red Son’s hands slamming into the keys with newfound force, drums kicking up from the speakers like the thunder of a coming storm.

“Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.”

Fire sparks tend to grow,

Seeping down into my soul,

I feel it now, it’s in my veins

A flame too strong to suffocate.”

Instead of stopping after two repeats, MK kept going a bit louder this time.

"Fire sparks tend to grow-"

The first line came like a spark catching dry wood. The crowd moved with them, shivering like they could feel the embers crawling up their spines.

"Seeping down into my soul-”

MK’s feet hit the stage in rhythm as he held up one of his hants, widely waving to the rhythm. Red Son didn’t even realize he was smiling as his fingers danced across the keys even though he wasn't paying attention.

"I feel it now, it's in my veins-”

MK spun on his heel, whipping back toward Red Son with fire in his eyes. For a split second, their eyes met.

"A flame too strong to suffocate!"

By the final and fourth repeat, the crowd wasn’t just cheering, they were shouting it with them. Red Son’s heart rose in his throat as MK threw his head back, pouring everything he had into that last stretch.

“ONE MORE TIME!”

"FIRE SPARKS TEND TO GROW-"

The lights flickered like fireworks.

"SEEPING DOWN INTO MY SOUL-"

The booming of the bass shook the world.

"I FEEL IT NOW, IT'S IN MY VEINS-

MK was burning alive, screaming into the mic. Red Son could only keep pace as the lights flared making MK too bright to look at directly, like the sun itself.

"A FLAME TOO STRONG TO SUFFOCATE!"

The final note hit like a victorious climax, and the crowd melted into a cacophony of cheers. The outro drifted in like the soft glow of dying embers, gentle and steady, the heat still lingering in their bones long after the flames had dimmed.

"Should I walk away, should I put it out?

But something inside says I have no doubt."

For the first time all night, Red Son’s hands weren’t shaking on the keys. The duo's eyes met again, crackling in the space between them, louder than any word.

"Flick a match, watch the embers fly-”

MK smiled, exhausted, exhilarated, and glowing golden in the stage lights. Red Son concluded that he wouldn’t trade this for the world. Not the anxiety, not the shaking hands, not the heart-in-his-throat terror of walking onstage. Not if it meant THIS. Not if it meant being with HIM.

The final line-

“Didn’t mean to start it, but I won't lie.”

As the last note faded, the stage fell silent for half a heartbeat before the crowd roared with applause And Red Son sat there, gripping the edges of his keyboard, heart still racing from something entirely separate from fear. He survived. And strangely, He wanted to do it again.

“Thank you! You’ve all been amazing tonight!” MK was still catching his breath, grinning like a fool as he waved out at the roaring crowd. “Get home safe, and keep that fire burning!”

The audience howled in response, but Red Son barely heard it, because MK wasn’t just waving at strangers. His eyes had flicked offstage to a group Red Son hadn’t noticed until now. Pigsy, Tang, Sandy and Mo. Next to them, Mei was screaming like a rabid animal, shrieking with pride like she might explode into a massive spark of green lightning at any second.

"DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS? THOSE TWO ARE MY BESTIES, YEEEEAAAAAHHHH!!”

Red Son’s gaze slid past her and landed on the two “strangers” standing beside her, waving at MK. One with curly golden hair like sunlight and the other with a side swept black hair that fell past his shoulders.

But then Red Son's gaze snagged behind the duo, and his blood ran cold. Standing just beyond them were two figures he'd never expected to see here. Just behind the crowd, standing like they owned the city, was a woman in crimson silk, her hair styled in a bun much like his own.

And beside her was a towering, imposing broad-shouldered man with long, dark purple hair tied loosely back. 

His mother, and father in his rare human form. Red Son’s breath caught. He hadn’t seen that face since he was a small child. It was a blurry, dreamlike memory he thought he’d imagined. But it wasn’t a dream, they were here to watch him. His father really swallowed his pride to take the form of a measly mortal just to be here.

MK didn’t notice Red Son's parents, lacing hands and tugging the fire demon along through the glittering lights, ducking past the backstage curtains and slipped into the festival crowd. Red Son barely heard the roaring cheers fading behind them. His head was still spinning, heart pounding from more than purely stage adrenaline.

As they slipped offstage, away from the noise and lights of the venue, Red Son managed to shake off the daze long enough to ask a question.

“Where exactly are we going?” He inquired, sleeping voice steady enough to hide the fact his heart was still racing for reasons that had nothing to do with stage fright.

MK glanced back at him, that infuriatingly bright grin practically splitting his face in two. His eyes glittered like a kid who just pulled off the greatest heist of his life.

“We’re sneaking off, duh!” MK giggled as he continued to drag Red Son behind, still hand-in-hand. “Before any of them can find us!”

“Them?” Red Son scoffed.

MK just jerked his chin back toward where their friends and his parents were probably still recovering from the performance.

“Y'know,” MK added with a laugh, “Family, friends, fans, anyone who's gonna scream in my ear for the next thirty minutes.”

MK wanted to celebrate, not with the crowd or with his family… But with him?

Red Son felt heat bloom across his face. The sickness that had been haunting him flared but in a different way than every other time. It was no longer painful. It was enduring and exotic, begging him to stay close to MK at all costs. It was… Euphoric.

It was a feeling he liked very, very much.

Chapter Text

The noise of the crowd faded behind them as they slipped deeper into the glowing heart of the festival. Lanterns of every color bobbed overhead, casting warm, dreamy light over the busy streets. The air smelled like fried dough, sugar, and the faint metallic tang of sparklers going off somewhere nearby.

MK was running in place beside him.

"I think performing makes me hungry." MK spun on his heel, walking backwards so he could grin at Red Son, "We need to get street food. That’s like, festival rule number one!"

"Must we begin with the most unsanitary option?" Red Son rolled his eyes.

MK’s response was to grab his hand tighter and drag him to the nearest vendor. It was a little stand decorated with bright, glowing signs and flags.

"Don't tell Pigsy we're getting food that isn't from his truck." MK’s eyes gleamed. "Funnel cake! We’re starting strong."

MK ordered a single plate, it was definitely enough for the both of them. Despite Red Son’s skepticism, he had to admit… It smelled pretty nice, and it was presented decently. Warm, crispy, and sweet with just a hint of spice. MK split it in half and tore into it like he’d been starving for days.

"Holy crap!" MK gasped. "Red, you gotta try this!"

He shoved one into Red Son’s hands. Welp, it's time to try some greasy peasant food. And you know what? It was crispy on the outside, but the insides were soft and a burst of sugar melted on his tongue.

"Hmm." Red Son said plainly. But MK saw the way his eyes widened slightly.

"You like it?" MK laughed. 

"I guarantee that this is ridiculously unhealthy." The fire demon's complained before taking another bite.

They wandered deeper into the food section, MK’s hunger not even remotely satisfied yet. His next target was a boba tea stand.

"Oh my gosh, I’ve always wanted to try one of these!" MK practically bounced on his heels in line, scanning the flavors on a large menu. "Mango boba… That sounds so good!"

"What even is boba?" Red Son peered at the menu, adjusting his glasses.

"You’ve never had boba?"

"I do not partake in consuming strange mortal gelatin drinks."

"Nuh-uh, we are fixing that right now." MK shook his head. Minutes later, MK proudly held two mango boba teas, handing one off to Red Son.

"It… Rattles?" Red Son eyed the cup suspiciously. 

"That’s the boba!" MK exclaimed before stabbing the straw through the top. "Little chewy balls in the bottom that pop in your mouth. Just drink it, trust me."

Red Son narrowed his eyes at the large straw before doing the same as MK, jabbing it in. He took a cautious sip, and his eyes immediately snapped wide when the first tapioca pearl shot up the straw into his mouth like a rocket. It took him by surprise, and MK started laughing.

"HAHAHA, YOUR FACE! I should’ve warned you!"

Red Son chewed experimentally, his expression caught between deeply offended and reluctantly intrigued.

"…It is peculiar, that's for sure." He admitted slowly. Another sip, and another pearl that burst into plesant flavors. "But not entirely unpleasant."

"Well, I know what I love it!" MK was beaming. "I'm definitely gonna get more in the future with Mei."

"I tolerate it." Red Son replied, but this time, he didn’t even try to hide the second, much longer sip that followed.

Fueled by a few more sugary snacks and mango boba, MK practically dragged Red Son toward the loudest, flashiest section of the festival. The game stalls.

"Aww yeah!" MK said, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for battle. "Time to absolutely wreck this place."

"These games are designed to swindle fools out of their money." Red Son raised a brow, unimpressed. "Apparently, fools like you."

"Hmhmmmm." MK grinned. "But WE are cheaters with magic and super strength."

"Aren't you supposed to be a hero and use your powers for good?"

"If this is my mean streak, I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about."

That earned him a rare, sharp-toothed smile from Red Son. 

"Lead the way, Monkie Kid."

The first stall was a classic ring toss with tiny rings and impossibly tiny bottle necks. MK missed his first throw on purpose, just to lull the poor vendor into a false sense of security. Red Son couldn't believe how devious MK was acting so suddenly, because his next five rings landed perfectly. Red Son didn’t even bother with the rings. He just guided the rings on a mini-thermal for heat, accidently heating the air enough to melt the top of the glass bottles ever so slightly so the ring couldn’t fall off once it touched. Before the vendor realized that the rings were now stuck to the glass once it cooled, the duo was already gone.

By the time they were done, MK had won a stuffed monkey plush half his size. Red Son, meanwhile, had a growing pile of prizes building at his feet. Without even hesitating, Red Son snapped his fingers, sending all their loot away in a small burst of flame.

"Where did that stuff go?" MK stared at his empty hands.

"Your apartment." Red Son said casually, inspecting his nails. "It was becoming a burden to carry it around."

"Oh? You’re teleporting our prizes home?" MK burst out laughing. "That’s so smart. I was wondering how we were gonna carry all this."

The next stall was a strength game, complete with a classic hammer, and a large bell at the top. When he saw it, MK nudged Red Son's arm with his elbow, silently pointing at it. They both already knew the outcome before they even got started. MK absolutely obliterated it on his first try, accidentally snapping the hammer in half. Not only that, but the bell exploded. Technically, he didn't cheat, he used his honest strength. In fact, just like the last game, he was holding back. The vendor ogled at the sight with a dropped jaw.

By the time they were done, MK had won enough prizes to fill a small storage unit, and Red Son started teleporting them to his own quarters, both of them laughing like villains that took over the world, riding the high of their unchallenged victories. They hopped on a few rides after that, the ones that rattled just a little too much, creaked in ways that didn’t inspire confidence, and swung them around like someone had duct-taped an engine to a shopping cart. MK, of course, loved every second of it. Red Son couldn't help but critically inspect every single ride, which partially ruined his enjoyment upon seeing just how scuffed and sketchy the majority of these were.

"These mortal death traps are an embarrassment to the concept of engineering." Red Son grumbled as they stepped off a spinning ride that might’ve been held together by pure hope.

"Aww, c’mon, they’re not that bad!" MK was still laughing, his hair more of a windswept mess than before. They're still in their fancy outfits, but neither of them cared.

"Please, compared to the speeds your cloud is capable of, this is child's play."

"Wait… Do you want to ride my cloud?" MK blinked, slowing his steps a little. 

There was a pause. Red Son’s cheeks tinged faintly pink.

"…Perhaps later tonight." He said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "It would undoubtedly be a superior experience."

"Heh… Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that." MK’s grin was blinding. "If you don't mind me asking, why not right now?"

"Because of that." Red Son pointed over MK's shoulder. 

Right on cue, a very loud and very familiar voice cut through the festival crowd.

"MONKIE MAN! RED BOY!"

"Oh no-" MK giggled. "We've been spotted, and we almost got away with it!"

Red Son turned just in time to see a certain dragon horse girl barreling toward them at top speed. Mei skidded to a stop in front of them.

"There you two are! I knew you were trying to sneak off together!" She wiggled her eyebrows so hard it was a miracle they stayed on her face. "Little date night after your big debut, huh? Very suspicious. Very couple-coded."

"Wha- It’s not a- We were just-" MK immediately went red.

"We're just friends." Red Son finished with a growl and placed a hand in his hip. "Our activities are none of your concern, Mei."

"You called me by my real name?" Mei gasped theatrically. "Ooh, you are flustered! Admit it, you were totally on a little post-concert victory date."

"MEI!" MK made a strangled monkey-like squeak.

"Honestly, I respect it." Mei spun on her heel and started walking backwards in front of them, hands behind her head. "First, both of you make a killer performance, then snuck off to hold hands in the glow of tacky fair lights? That's some iconic behavior."

"We weren’t holding hands." Red Son deadpanned.

"Really?" Mei pointed between them. "Then what are you doing right now?"

They both looked down and, sure enough, somewhere between the rides and Mei's ambush, MK’s hand had found Red Son’s again. MK nearly jumped out of his skin. Red Son stiffened. Mei cackled secretly, snapping a picture on her phone without them even realizing it. But... Neither of them actually let go.

"Your observations are incredibly tedious." Red Son cleared his throat, barely glancing away. 

"Yuh-huh, I'm incredibly smart." Mei grinned, unbothered. "C’mon, lovebirds. Let me third-wheel you properly before everyone else tracks you down. I’m getting my own memorabilia for tonight whether you like it or not."

"She’s never gonna let us live this down." MK sighed, but there was a tiny, hopeless smile tugging at his lips.

"Hmph, let her try." Red Son, despite everything, didn’t seem all that bothered.

They wandered deeper into the maze of carnival games, the noise and flashing lights daring them to test their luck. Or, in their case, their absolute lack of self-restraint. Mei zeroed in on a game immediately. 

"Guys, do you see that giant stuffed dragon prize? That’s got my name on it."

It was one of those ladder climbing games, arguably among the most difficult carnival games put there, pretty much designed to rob people of their money. Mei locked in like a seasoned warrior entering battle. Red Son and MK watched with mild horror she began her climb, not even bothering to take her shoes off. She even did a few tricks and drew in a small crowd. The booth worker was sweating buckets by the end of it.

"You cheated." Red Son accused flatly. “Somehow.”

Mei shrugged, grinning ear to ear as the massive stuffed dragon, longer than they were tall, had been chucked at her by the employees in defeat.

"Skill issue." She shot back smugly, hugging the overgrown plush like a trophy. The thing's long tail trailed behind her like a colorful snake as she skipped after MK and Red Son.

Unbeknownst to them, Mei had her phone out like a stealthy paparazzi, snapping shot after shot of her two friends wandering the fair together. MK laughing like a dork at something Red Son muttered something sarcastic under his breath. Red Son often had to gently tug him away from bumping into a sign. This was pure blackmail material. Mei grinned deviously to herself, giggling manically as she took selfies with them in the background. She even got pictures of them and fans, congratulating them on an awesome performance.

"Uh, Mei?" MK glanced back at her. "Are you good with carrying that thing around all night?"

"Yup!" She nodded, totally not paying attention. "Don’t mind me! Just a humble third wheel, letting you two have your romantic moment."

Red Son looked like he was re-evaluating all of his life choices while MK just shot her a silent glare.

As they wandered toward the quieter edge of the festival, the noise dulled just enough for Red Son’s thoughts to catch up with him. MK was still holding his hand. He hadn't even noticed when it started to become a habit, probably somewhere between the rides and the endless teasing, but now MK’s warm fingers were curled easily around his own, swinging slightly as they walked. Red Son's heart twisted. He wanted this. Like, he really wanted this. He wanted all his nights to be like this with MK beside him, laughing and grinning. But he also knew better. This wasn’t forever. This was a fleeting, adrenaline-fueled night. MK was holding his hand because he was excited, because he was the type to love his friends freely with physical touch. He held hands with Mei all the time, maybe there's hope after all.

"Wait…" MK glanced up at the large digital clock glowing over the festival entrance and frozen on the spot. "The winners for the competition, that should’ve been announced like, an hour ago!"

"Oh yeah." Mei, casually scrolling on her phone like she’d known all along, smirked. "You guys won, by the way."

"WHAT?" MK screamed.

He turned on Red Son so fast the fire demon barely had time to process before MK was grabbing him in a full-body hug, lifting him a few inches off the ground with sheer joy.

"WE WON! RED, WE ACTUALLY WON!"

Red Son sputtered and his hands gripped MK's caught off-guard, equal parts horrified and very aware of the fact MK was ridiculously strong and forgetful when excited, but his mind blanked entirely when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Mei had her phone out, discreetly snapping a picture while sipping a soda. It must've been a perfect shot with MK beaming like the sun, clinging to a very startled but very flustered Red Son.

Just as MK set Red Son back on solid ground, they both froze at the distant but very familiar sound of several voices absolutely screaming MK’s name from down the street.

"MK!"

"Where’d that kid go?"

"Hey, bud, I know you can hear us!"

"We know you're here, get over here and celebrate with us!"

MK flinched, and Red Son looked down at him, torn between amusement and secondhand panic.

"BAH! Looks like the cavalry’s here." Mei clicked her tongue, tucking her phone away like it was a loaded weapon. "Go on, I’ll cover for you two. They won’t catch me alive."

"Wait, really?" MK blinked at her. "You'd do that?"

"Go have your dumb romantic getaway." She winked. "You earned it."

"You know it's not like that." Red Son glared daggers at her.

"Please." Mei rolled her eyes fondly. "This is peak drama potential and I’m fully invested. Now, go on, do something stupid!"

Without another word, she turned and bolted down the busy street, yelling loud enough to catch the attention of their friends.

MK hesitated only a second before turning to Red Son, eyes sparkling like a daredevil about to do something reckless.

"Soooooo…" MK grinned, holding his hand out, "You still wanna go for that cloud ride?"

Chapter Text

MK tugged Red Son into a quieter alleyway, away from the noise of the festival. The second they were out of sight and earshot of a certain six-eared simian, he whistled and summoned the cloud and it waited patiently.

“Heh…” MK turned to wink at him. “Hold on tight.”

“Wait-” Red Son started, the realization dawning a little too late.

MK grabbed his wrist and yanked him onto the cloud before he could change his mind. They shot into the sky with a burst of speed that made Red Son’s entire soul evacuate his body.

Airships were nice, he adored airships. It had solid floors, walls, and a ceiling. They were nice and safe. But now, the wind was in his face, nothing beneath his feet but swirling vapor, and MK laughing like a lunatic at the sheer speed they were going. Red Son latched onto MK’s arm, hugging it for dear life. It was better than that time MK threw him off a cliff then transformed into an eagle and carried him into the sky, but at least they weren't traveling THIS FAST!

“THIS IS NOT THE SAME AS AN AIRSHIP!” Red Son screamed over the roar of the wind.

“YEAH, IT’S WAY BETTER!” MK responded, now suddenly in his monkey form.

Red Son begged to disagree… Very loudly.

MK, who was beaming and laughing like a lunatic, eased their speed just enough so Red Son didn’t look like he was going to faint from sheer terror. The wind wasn’t as harsh now, and the city lights stretched beneath them like a spray of stars far beneath them.

“See?” MK called over the wind, still grinning. “It's not so bad when you’re not screaming.”

“I was not screaming.” Red Son hissed through gritted teeth, still latched onto MK’s arm like his life depended on it. “I was… Expressing justified concern. It's your fault for not warning me, Noodle Boy!”

MK snickered, freeing his arm from the fire demon's grasp and snaking it around Red Son’s waist to steady him. The kind gesture didn’t help the rapid hammering of Red Son’s heart. If anything, it made it worse. But at least it's not in a bad way anymore

“I’ve been riding on this cloud nearly every day since I first summoned it.” MK looked off the misty edge with a calm grin. “Whenever things felt too big down there… I’d come up here.”

Red Son hesitantly looked down, feeling the soft pulse of energy beneath his feet. The cloud slowed to a halt. He could feel MK’s warmth radiating through him. It was nowhere near as hot as his own, but it was nice. At some point, MK shifted back to his monkey form.

“…Hmm.” Red Son finally exhaled a slow breath. “I suppose it does offer… A unique perspective.”

“Is that your fancy way of saying that this is kinda cool?” MK chuckled.

They sat down. When MK subtly leaned in closer, Red Son didn’t pull away. They found themselves in a calm pocket of air a mile above the city. They both sat down, legs dangling over the edge on the fluffy surface, the city sprawling far beneath them. It wasn't wet like a real cloud, it was solid and soft. MK’s arm remained draped around Red Son’s waist, no longer out of necessity anymore, but comfort. Neither of them seemed in a rush to move.

MK broke the quiet first, voice softer than Red Son was used to hearing.

“…Hey. Thanks, by the way. For sticking by me. And for coming back after our fight.” MK’s gaze dropped to his own hands, fiddling with his tail nervously with his free hand. “I still feel awful about yelling at you like that. I said some really messed up stuff.”

Red Son was quiet for a moment, watching MK’s expression carefully.

“It's fine, Noodle Boy.” Red Son replied simply, but sincerely. “I had already forgiven you. Besides, you have forgiven me for much worse things.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.” MK blinked. Then huffed out a small, breathless laugh.

For a few seconds, all they did was sit there, surrounded by the hush of the sky and the distant glow of the lights below. It was peaceful. The wind tugged gently at their hair and fur, the world below felt impossibly distant, and for once, Red Son wasn’t thinking about appearances or expectations or what came next. He could feel MK pressed against his side, and even when the monkey nuzzled his nose in the blazer. For a moment, the strange ache in Red Son’s chest, the same one that had haunted him for weeks now, flared up again. Oh, great, It was happening again, and after it had settled down since they made up, too.

Thinking back on it, he’d felt it flare not long after MK first dragged him into this dumb music project. It started when… MK placed his hands over Red Son's to teach him how to play chords on the keyboard, and he realized that he didn't mind MK touching him. And, from there, it grew, especially once he heard MK sing for the first time. It got stronger when they spent late nights practicing, or when MK laughed at something stupid he said, or even tonight, when he held his hand in a busy crowd without hesitation.

Red Son curled his fingers a little tighter around MK’s without thinking. Whatever this was, whatever kind of sickness or allergies MK had cursed him with, it was at its worst right now. And yet… He didn’t want it to stop?

MK leaned his head against Red Son’s shoulder with a quiet sigh.

“Y’know,” MK purred sleepily, “This was probably one of the best nights of my life.”

Red Son felt his heart stutter. Without even realizing it, his lips shaped the softest reply.

“…One of mine as well.”

Even when all was calm and quiet, Red Son couldn't help himself as gaze flickered down, drawn to that scar. Since he was on MK's left side, all he had to do was lean over to look at the right hand. He saw that gnarly, jagged thing on the right between his thumb and index finger where it always was. It stood out boldly against the rest of his skin, deep and long.

Maybe it was the calm, maybe it was the height, maybe it was MK’s warmth pressed so easily against him, but Red Son finally worked up the nerve to finally ask.

“…That scar.” Red Son said quietly, voice almost lost to the wind. “How did you get it?”

MK blinked, lifting his hand to glance at it. For a second, Red Son thought he wouldn’t answer. But then MK grinned and laughed.

“Oh, this old thing?” He chuckled like it was no big deal, like it wasn’t the thing that haunted Red Son’s every waking thought. “Oh man, it's such an embarrassing story. Do you remember that first day we met? When crashed right on top of you? I was hanging off some pipes when a bird pecked my fingers, I later learned it was Monkey King. Anyways, that's when I fell right on top of you. I actually saw what happened. When you freaked out and shoved me off, your claws caught me right here. I didn't pay attention to it at first, I was too busy running for my life and all that.”

Red Son’s heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth to say something, but MK kept talking.

“I didn't even treat it until way later after I met Sandy and was on the barge. I was just bleeding all over the place like an idiot.” MK cackled again, like it didn’t matter at all.

But to Red Son, it mattered so much. It was HIS claws that left that mark. A scar that would never fade, all because of him. No wonder it always bothered him. No wonder it always called to him when he looked at MK. It was his fault. And yet… MK still smiled at him like this. Still trusted him. Still held his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world even knowing that the same hand had gotten hurt by the very person he was holding.

MK went quiet after a moment, noticing how Red Son hadn’t responded. He blinked over at him, and Red Son was still staring at his right hand. His expression had grown distant, like gears turning too fast in that intelligent, overthinking brain of his.

“Uh… Red?”

No response.

MK squinted. Then, experimentally, he wiggled his scarred right hand a little. Red Son’s gaze followed the motion like a magnet.

“You’re feeling guilty about it, aren’t you?” 

Red Son visibly flinched. 

“I- No, that's absurd. Why would I-”

“Red Son,” MK cut him off with a giggle, “I appeared out of nowhere. You reacted like some random stranger falling on top of them, because I did!”

“That does not change the fact that I did that to you, and it was our very very interaction!” Red Son scowled down at the offending mark like he wanted to will it out of existence. “It’s… Permanent…”

“Yeah, you did, and I’m fine.” MK chirped, leaning back into Red Son’s side like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If anything, it’s kinda cool.”

"Cool?" Red Son snapped his attention up to him.

“Yeah!” MK snorted. “I've grown to accept my scars lately. Besides, each one makes for a great story.”

Red Son hesitated when MK held out his right hand to him with his palm up, open and waiting. Slowly, carefully, the fire demon reached out. His thumb brushed over the large scar. The skin there was rougher, sunken deep under the epidermis.

“See?” MK smiled, soft and lopsided. “It's not scary or tragic, it's just a healed injury.”

“Well, of course...” Red Son hummed, now busy examining the other scars on the monkey's hands.

“I’ve got a bunch, honestly.” MK said, casually swinging his legs over the edge of the cloud like they weren’t floating high above the ground. “The frostbite scars on the tip of my ears were from frostbite on my ears because of the Lady Bone Demon. I didn’t even notice until Pisgy yelled at me after it turned black.”

"Frostbite?" Red Son stiffened.

“Yeah. And then there’s that gouge on my lower chest, Macaque got me pretty bad during that desert fight. You found us after that fight, actually, remember that? OH! I even got some tiny burns on my fingertips from Mei after she awaked the Samadhi Fire. Hmm… and that scratch on my thigh is from Azure’s claws. The slices across my nose and shoulder were courtesy of the Seven Star Sword, you know about those already.”

MK laughed to himself, wagging his tail.

“Not all of them are from fights. I’ve got stretch marks on my stomach from when I hit a super weird growth spurt. I hated them all at first, thinking they were ugly. In fact, I used to hate all of these. Every scar felt like it proved I wasn’t strong enough or fast enough, seeing them as mistakes… But I don’t really see them that way anymore. Now, to me, it’s proof that I survived difficult times, and if I remember that, then I'll know I'll make it through again.”

MK turned his head then, bringing his right hand to Red Son's cheek, brushing over the x-shaped scar.

“Besides,” MK added, mischievous now, “you have a pretty cool scar too, y’know.”

Red Son flushed.

“That is hardly- It is not meant for aesthetic purposes!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it looks pretty neat on you.”

Red Son hated how fast his heart raced at that. But even more than that, he hated how much he wished MK would never stop looking at him like that, and never stop gently touching his skin.

…Perhaps MK could.

Red Son didn’t even realize when MK’s hand moved down. Warm, calloused fingertips rested just over his cheekbone, right beneath the scar. MK’s palm brushed over thoughtlessly, holding his head. Red Son’s brain stopped functioning, crashing all rational thoughts. Because this was unbearable, because this was everything. Because when MK looked at him like that, with his bright eyes glistening, his smile faint but fond, Red Son could see it. He could picture it now.

Them. Together. Whatever that might mean.

His heart pounded so hard it felt like it shook his entire body. He didn't even like being touched like this. He didn't like people getting into his space, he even pushed his parents away sometimes. MK was the only exception. 

Strange ideas were hot on the tip of his tongue. He didn't understand exactly what words he wanted to say, but whatever it was he had to say… He had to say it NOW. If he didn’t, he'd forget and never would.

And right as he parted his lips to speak and blurt it out-

“I like you!”

The same exact words left his mouth right as MK did the same.

Wide-eyed, both of them froze.

“…Wait, what?” MK chirped.

“…Excuse me?” Red Son rasped.

Their hands were still there with MK’s on his cheek and Red Son’s hovering over like he’d been about to grab MK’s wrist. They stared at each other, utterly speechless. Then, in horrified unison, they both scrambled backwards away from each other.

“No, I mean-”

“I was trying to say-”

They both cut themselves off, flushed down to their necks even through their fading makeup.

More silence.

MK snorted and covered his mouth. It started small, the tiniest hitch of breath, but it quickly broke into a full, helpless, genuine laugh that shook his whole body, a sound that echoed like bells in Red Son’s pounding head.

MK wheezed through his grin, clutching at Red Son’s shoulder now, like he was the one overwhelmed.

“Oh my gods, of course this is how it happens!”

Red Son, mortified beyond words, could only lean forward and to cover his burning face with both hands while his hair burst into flames, undoing all his hard work to make it pretty, burning all the delicate ties. The pin fell out and landed somewhere in the folds on his blazer. MK had practically folded in half, wheezing with laughter, his forehead lightly thudding against Red Son’s shoulder as he wailed like a screeching monkey. Red Son, meanwhile, was frozen in absolute mortification, wide-eyed, rigid, utterly horrified… Because he knew what he just said. 

I like you. 

He just said that to MK. 

This… This wasn’t how confessions were supposed to go! He’d always envisioned himself with elegance and poise! A perfectly composed admittance of his affections to someone else he wished to court, not this ridiculous, clumsy overlap of words like two idiots fumbling through a door at the same time!

And yet, as MK lifted his head, wiping at the corner of his eye, still grinning like a fool, the look he gave Red Son was devastating in a whole different way. 

"You like me?” MK managed between fading chuckles. "Hold on, is that why you always feel so weird around me?”

“I… Think so?” Red Son sputtered. "I thought I was dying!"

"I can't believe you mistaken a crush for a magic curse NO WAY!" MK practically lost it all over again, hands bracing on his knees from laughing too hard.

"I have never felt this way before! How was I to know it was not some horrid affliction eating away at my internal organs? I felt terrible and nauseated all the time!"

"You mean butterflies?" MK gasped between laughs. "That's just crush symptoms!"

Red Son peeked through his fingers at MK's hopeful smile, catching his eyes. MK reached out, threading their fingers together. Red Son stared at their joined hands. It's different this time, MK refused to sit still and constantly shifted his hold.

“How long?” Red Son asked.

MK hesitated, staring at the sky. His free hand ran through his fur before he answered, suddenly a tad nervous.

“…A while.”

“Define ‘a while.’”

“… Not long after I got the staff.” MK winced.

“But that was years ago?”

“Yeah, I know!” MK groaned.

All this time, through each of their battles and odds, their banter, their eventual alliance and friendship, MK had been carrying this stupid, ridiculous, adorably persistent crush on him. He should gloat and tease and make MK suffer for keeping this from him. But instead, he just laughed.

“What’s so funny?” MK turned his head, pouting. 

“You.” Red Son shook his head, a smirk still lingering on his lips.

“Wow, super romantic. I… Really didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

“I suppose I can see why, I'm not the most approachable person.” Red Son fell silent after that, waiting for MK to explain.

“I thought I was being obvious. I told Mei about it, and she said I might have a chance, so I might as well try.” MK gave a small, self-conscious huff of a laugh. “But you never reacted to anything I did, so I just kinda figured… I don’t know. That it wasn’t like that for you.”

Red Son, absolutely floored and could only stare. MK tried to catch his attention? WHEN? What did he do?

“I mean, I tried, alright? Sticking around after fights, helping you learn chords, carrying you to bed, dragging you into dumb stuff in your spare time, cooking you meals, giving you extra arcade tokens, helping you with your hair, hanging out way too much, I can go on.” MK grinned, a little lopsided, embarrassed. “Honestly, holding your hand tonight was probably the bravest, dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

His eyes met Red Son’s again, turning away from the stars above.

“That's the entire reason I asked you to help me write a song when Mei could've done the same thing.” MK’s voice lowered to a whisper. “I just… I didn’t wanna let myself hope too hard. But it felt nice, you know? Just for a little while. Just… pretending. So I figured, if I didn’t say something now, I’d never have the guts to say it at all… Even if it ruined everything. Even if you didn't feel the same, it would’ve been worth it, just to tell you.”

It was exactly what Red Son was thinking before he blurted his confession. And Red Son, still overwhelmed, could only think-

This fool.

This absolute, scruffy, chaotic furball-

Was everything he’s ever wanted.

He knew MK was irritating at times, chaotic and infuriatingly unpredictable. But sitting here, with his heart hammering and cheek back to being cupped gently in that calloused, familiar hand, Red Son realized something kind of terrifying. MK might actually be a perfect match for him despite initially appearing incompatible.

He was strong, undeniably so. Red Son had fought him enough times to know the extent of that strength. But more than that… MK fought with heart. He didn’t fight to win or kill, he fought to protect, including his enemies if he believed they could be reformed. He could cook, with real skill, too. The flavors had been deceptively simple, but it was perfect nonetheless.

MK was also much smarter than he ever gave him credit for. Quick-witted, adaptable, and able to solve problems in ways Red Son would never consider simply because MK didn’t think like him. He's reckless, but clever. And then there's his passion for work. Whether it be noodle deliveries, art, music, new languages, or battle training, MK had surprised everyone many times before 

But more than all of that, he was bold and decisive. When MK loved someone, it was obvious in everything he did. It was loud and messy, but always genuine. He never craved power or fame, but when he got it, he remained humble and only used it for good, willing to throw his life away if it meant saving the world. Red Son had spent so much of his life second-guessing himself and holding back. He pushed himself to his limits, partly for himself, but mostly for the approval of others like his parents. so many people held him in such high regards, and he became arrogant, yet always stressed. MK never looked for approval, he just did what he believed was right, guided by his own growing intuition.

MK must've seen right through Red Son's aggressive, prideful defense. He didn't understand what the Noodle Boy saw in him, but he was willing to hear him out 

“…I wish I had realized sooner.” He wasn't sure if he was responding to himself or MK.

It was never sickness. All this time, the restless nights, the twisting in his chest, the unbearable heat when MK laughed or looked in his direction, it hadn't been some strange, unknown ailment. It was this.

And after their fight over the song's ending… That had been the worst of it. Red Son could still remember how hollow he had felt after storming off, how wrong everything tasted, how his own palace felt colder and quieter than he could stand. Meals went untouched and projects were abandoned. He'd scoured ancient texts for remedies to phantom aches that had no cure. Even his parents caught wind of his pain.

The ache wasn’t in his body after all, It was in his own mind. And now, sitting here with MK’s warm hand entwined with his own, with MK looking at him with those dazzling pair of eyes, the ache was back in full force… But it was different.

Suddenly, dangerous thoughts were beginning to seep into his mind. Horribly indulgent and terribly improper thoughts creeping and intruding his mind without warning. He wanted to take MK back to his fortress. Lock every door and window in sight, shutting the world out. He wanted to feed him, spoil him, keep him safe and warm where no one else could reach him. Not out of cruelty, no, never that, but because Red Son’s heart felt frantic with the need to repay all MK's care. He never needed to cook or untangle his hair yet he did so anyway. Red Son knew exactly what these thoughts were about and why they appeared. It's an instinct demons like him possess. 

Courtnapping.

Doing such a thing was absolutely impossible here, teetering on a cloud with MK grinning at him like the sun itself. He couldn't do anything from high up the ground, but the desire rooted deep in his bones. He’d have to be subtle. Very, very subtle. Now that he had grown to know MK more than ever over the past few months, he knew that the monkey was more clever than he let on. 

“MK.” He started, voice a little rough at first before clearing his throat, “When this evening concludes, would you…”

He hesitated opening and closing his jaw. Blast it all, how did people ask these things? Maybe he should just say what's on his mind. Just like the performance on stage, it don't have to be perfect 

“Perhaps…” Red Son began, “...You might accompany me back to my fortress for the evening? For rest, nourishment, and... Privacy. I can do whatever you want me to, anything. I am an exceptional host, if I do say so myself.”

Was that subtle enough?

MK blinked, completely and utterly puzzled. 

"You… Wanna take me home?"

Red Son, scandalized, immediately flushed from the tips of his ears down to his collar.

“Not like that!”

The ancient demon tradition of whisking away the one you intended to court, safely and absolutely without harm, into your own territory. To another demon, it was a bold, undeniable declaration of intent. A way of saying "I wish for you to be mine, and I'm going to take care of you better than anyone else ever could." It was as dramatic as it was possessive. It was absolutely something his father's ancestors would approve of.

But MK… He grew up human. MK probably didn’t know anything about the tradition. And if Red Son so much as hinted at it too blatantly, he risked scaring him away. So he made a promise to himself. He would start it, but if MK didn't want it, he'd let him go and do it the human way.

He needed to be discreet. So he coughed lightly, folding his hands in his lap like some nervous scholar rather than the terrifying demon prince he was supposed to be.

“I merely thought…” Red Son began, his voice a touch strained. “That after everything tonight… It would be agreeable to spend time in a quieter setting. One where I could demonstrate my own culinary prowess and repay you for all the meals you've made me. And where you, should you so choose, may rest overnight.”

“Wait, like, TONIGHT tonight?” MK asked, surprised. Then his grin returned in a teasing manner. “Wow, I didn't think I was getting the full boyfriend experience already.”

…Were they? Was that how humans courted? Were direct invitations normal, saying exactly what they wanted without shame or strategy? Wow, and he thought demons were direct. Had he stumbled into some deeply human ritual without realizing? Was MK teasing him?

But before Red Son could even attempt to recover, MK leaned in and whispered right I'm his ear, breath tickling the inside of his ear.

"...But that does sound nice. I'd like that."

Before Red Son could even react, MK had already stood up, looking up at the stars.

"Alright! Let's head out then."

He said it so casually, like it was nothing at all. Like he hadn’t just spontaneously obliterated every last shred of Red Son’s composure with his actions. Red Son stood back up as well with all the stiff, awkward dignity of someone very much not used to being swayed by their most embarrassing instincts. MK looked completely unaware of it all, chatting about the quickest route, humming lightly, and pointing out familiar landmarks as they began to fly over the city, past the forest and into the desert. 

Red Son was already scheming. If MK was coming to his fortress willingly, if fate was handing him this impossible chance, then Red Son refused to waste it. Because the thing was… He was prepared. Painfully, embarrassingly prepared, all because of his parents.

It was yet another old demon tradition, especially among noble bloodlines. When a youth came of age, their parents would insist that they carve out a space for their special someone. It would be a place within or around their home specifically prepared for the one they might one day love, court, and possibly claim as mate or spouse. Red Son thought it was stupid. Ridiculous, really. At the time, he had found the whole idea of romance utterly mortifying. Since he was only his mother for the longest time, she oversaw his work. And when she tossed the idea of courting someone, Red Son had protested it to high heaven, but his mother always got what she wanted, so he built it with her help.

A whole section of his fortress was tucked away behind intricate doors, sealed until the day it would finally be needed. It wasn't just a room. It was practically an entire small house within. There was a living room with shelves lined with rare treasures and gifts his mother claimed would be neutral enough for any suitor, whatever that meant. There was even a fairly large kitchen nearby, ready to be stocked. The bedroom itself was spacious, designed for comfort above all else with silk sheets, woven blankets, pillows softer than clouds, and special inventions to adjust the room's warmth to his guest’s liking. When Red Son asked his mother why there was only one bed, she didn't respond. When his father was freed from his prison under the mountain, he insisted on expanding the bathing chamber and using special herbs and water to soothe stress or injury, stating that courting his mother was often exhausting, and it would be a good idea just in case Red Son found someone like her. 

He didn't see that room in years, believing it to be completely unnecessary. He was independent, and if anybody tried to courtnap him, he would pummel them into ash. He's had to fight the occasional demon, and all of them give up before they could get a change to even touch him.

This room his parents made him build was overkill. He was never going to use it…

Until now. Until MK came into his life and had to turn the entire world upside down. Suddenly, that ridiculous room didn't seem so ridiculous at all, and Red Son was left clinging to the one thing that made sense amidst the absolute chaos in his heart. He was ready, and his parents were going to gloat for the next few centuries. And Mei… Oh gods, he wasn't ready for her teasing.

Red Son was already making a checklist. Once they arrive, he would make a meal worthy of MK’s frankly abysmal eating habits so he wouldn't have to eat exactly the same three meals of noodles every day. He would make sure MK had tea, warm baths, comfortable silks, expensive beddings for nests, whatever the monkey needed to be happy and content.

He already accepted deep down that MK might not want to stay, but he had to try. And if Red Son had anything to say about it… MK wouldn't want to leave.

Chapter Text

The trip was quiet for the most part. They talked, sure, more curious than frantic, like their mind was still back on that confession they'd shared in the sky. Red Son barely replied to MK's attempts at conversation, mostly because he was too busy brainstorming plans. By the time the fortress came into view, Red Son's heart was hammering so hard he swore MK might actually hear it with his sensitive monkey senses. 

The front courtyard gate was closed. Red Son exhaled slowly through his nose, tension easing from his shoulders just a little. His parents loved keeping that gate wide open. It was like a silent statement as proof they don't fear intruders. It was open for allies, and a merciless dare to enemies. Having it closed was rare. His parents weren't home, which also meant one very important thing. The security systems that Red Son installed were fully operational. 

Red Son summoned his phone from a flame. The screen glowed faintly in the low light as he navigated through a specialized app to reveal a monstrosity of code, cameras, and complicated locks he'd designed himself. MK, still standing beside him on the cloud, watched as Red Son worked but didn't comment. Utilizing his biometrics, the fire demon disabled the outer perimeter sensors around his quarters first so it wouldn't accidentally trigger the defense turrets while MK was just existing nearby.

Once the defenses were neutralized, they finally touched down within the grand outer courtyard, the sheer size of the fortress loomed all around them. They went inside with no problems. Red Son straightened, already walking toward a more discreet side path away from the main halls.

"Is it just us here?" MK asked as he trotted alongside Red Son.

"We are." Red Son replied. "And I believe you’ve earned a proper tour of an area I have avoided showing you in the past."

Avoiding his own room with all the festival prizes piled in it, he guided MK straight to the wing he'd prepared all those years ago, a space not even most of his allies knew existed. He was so close, and everything was falling perfectly into place.

As they approached the two massive doors, Red Son lifted his hand to a plaque next to the frame. The biometric scanner flashed green as Red Son placed his palm and fingers against it. Ancient locks begin to stir inside the door, shaking the entire hallway. Dust rained softly from above as the duel steel doors groaned open, both mechanical and electrical mechanisms unlocking with deep, resonant sounds that echoed through the entryway.

"Woooaahhhh…" MK gasped, stepping back a little as the doors split apart to reveal the space beyond.

The lights within flickered alive. Soft red and gold lanterns suspended from the ceiling beams. The architecture blended classic demon-forged stonework with hints of medieval vibes. Plush rugs were sprawled across the floors. There was a tall bookshelf to the left, stuffed with books and decorations. To the right, a sunken lounge area with soft cushions and a low, glowing hearth that spontaneously erupted with a newborn flame the moment they entered. A small kitchen space could be seen through an archway. Further in the back, two doors opened and revealed an elaborate bathing chamber that shimmered multi-colored stained glass. There were various windows, all as unbreakable as possible while allowing natural light inside.

"This is… This is a whole apartment in here!" MK gawked at it all, chittering with excitement. "No, it's way bigger than that, it’s like a palace suite!"

Red Son didn’t say anything at first. His hand, trembling slightly, moved to a second scanner just inside the threshold. The door behind them rumbled as it sealed shut once again as every lock snapped back into place with a symphony of satisfying heavy clicks and clangs. 

"Bit overkill on the locks, huh?" MK raised an eyebrow at the noise. 

"It's a special place, this is standard security protocol for this area." Red Son cleared his throat. "This wing hasn’t been opened in years, and… I prefer privacy here."

MK didn’t seem concerned, he was too busy wandering over to the lounging area, bouncing on his feet and already leaping up the archway, climbing and balancing on the ceiling beams. Red Son slowly followed on the ground, heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.

"I…" He began, then caught himself, trying to keep his tone casual and diplomatic. "I understand that this is quite sudden, but I wanted you to feel welcome here."

MK turned, blinking at him, head slightly tilted. While wrapping his tail around a beam, he hung upside down to listen to what the fire demon had to say.

"You’re free to do whatever you like." Red Son continued, gesturing to the vast space. "This place is yours just as much as it is mine. If you wish to explore, relax, or change anything, you may. Nothing is off-limits. And if you need something that isn't here, do tell me."

The words felt strange coming out of his mouth. Generosity wasn’t exactly second nature to him, but this room had always been built with someone else in mind. And now, that someone could be hanging from the roof right in front of him, blissfully unaware of what exactly was happening. 

"You’re being awfully nice all of a sudden." MK gave him a lopsided smile. 

"I can be nice!" Red Son snapped, defensive out of habit.

"Well, I’m not complaining." MK laughed and swung himself over into a pile of pillows. "Seriously, this is insane! Why haven't you shown me this place before?"

Red Son turned his face slightly to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. He could practically feel the heat, threatening to ignite his hair ablaze If only MK knew how close he was to the truth. He couldn’t tell him yet, at least not now when they had just arrived. MK was still laughing with eyes wide and full of wonder, his arms spread across the cushions, part of the furniture. Red Son would let him settle in first, maybe it would increase the chances that MK would agree to stay.

Red Son folded his hands behind his back, straightening himself. He wasn’t lying when he said MK was free to explore. He wanted him to feel at home, because this was going to be his home for a while, if everything went according to plan. If all else failed, MK might be willing to try courting the human way.

Still, the longer this went on, the more convinced Red Son became. Perhaps MK truly had no idea what was happening, he just thought they were hanging out. It was equal parts adorable and and a bit terrorizing. Red Son’s gaze lingered on him as MK grabbed a fuzzy heart-shaped pillow and hugged it to his chest. He was so trusting, it made Red Son's stomach twist in knots with guilt. He turned away before his hair would betray him as it started smoking. Just a few more hours, then he would explain everything.

"This place," Red Son answered, "Wasn’t meant to be shown to just anyone."

"Yeah?" MK, still flopped into the pillowy nest he made and rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "Then why me?"

"Because…" Red Son’s shoulders twitched slightly, but he didn’t turn around. "You’re not just anyone."

That seemed to satisfy MK, who let out a pleased purr and rolled back onto his stomach with a grin. Red Son could still feel his gaze, relaxed and trusting. Perhaps he could explain just a little further

"And because… Well…" The fire demon added, "I believe that you don't actually know what this room is truly meant for."

"Uhhhh… Okay?" MK lifted a brow.

"Exactly." Red Son spun toward him, suddenly jumpy. "You didn’t know, which is why I haven’t told you sooner… You cannot know! You must not know what I’m doing and what this means, not yet!"

"...You’re being weird and I didn't understand a single sentence you just said." 

"I am being strategic." Red Son stiffened.

"And weird."

"Strategic!"

"Strategically weird."

Red Son folded his arms again and looked away, muttering under his breath. MK tilted his head, curiously. There was a pause, a brief beat of quiet between them.

"We like each other?" MK blurted out.

"Clearly." Red Son narrowed his eyes at the obvious statement. 

"So…" MK brushed hisnclaws through his fur, still smiling like an idiot. "Does that mean we’re, like… Dating now?"

Red Son’s hair immediately burned into a white-hot inferno.

"Wh- You- I- That’s NOT… That’s not how this works!" He snapped, cheeks turning bright red as his hair refused to settle.

"How does it work, then?" MK leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Red Son opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He had the "courtnapping" talk with both his parents, and what it entailed. His mother had lectured him in his youth. His father had even contributed once he was freed from his prison. His father had even been quite excited about it, even going into deeper detail about it than his mother. When confronted with the actual reality of MK being here, Red Son realized that he had no idea what to do next. He should've listened to those embarrassing lectures more.

MK, seeing Red Son’s very flustered expression, decides to make things easier for both of them. 

"Okay, how about this,we don’t overthink it. You promised to make me food right? A casual thing."

"A casual thing?" Red Son narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah!" MK needed. "Not a date! Just… I dunno, hanging out. Like usual. But, y’know. With feelings."

"I may not know a lot about this kind of stuff, but that is literally a date."

"Yeah, but if I call it that, you’ll freak out."

Red Son hates that he’s right.

To distract himself, he stomped over the kitchen and whipped out pots, pans, and summoned fresh ingredients with his magic from his family's storage nearby. Red Son decided to make his own batch of spicy noodles for both of them. Once it was finished, he pushed a bowl to MK… But the monkey just kept yapping. Red Son stared at him, unimpressed, as MK launched into yet another energetic ramble about the correct way to make the perfect broth. The noodles were finished, the bowls were cooling, and yet MK kept talking like his life depended on it.

"You’re stalling." Red Son said flatly.

"Huh?" MK blinked, halfway through a sentence.

"You. Are. Stalling." Red Son’s smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he casually nudged the bowl closer to MK. "The noodles have been sitting in front of you for several minutes and you haven’t even looked at them. You’re clearly trying to distract yourself because you don’t know how to act now that we’ve both confessed."

"Okay, yeah, maybe!" MK slumped against the counter with a pitiful little whine. "I don’t know how this works! I’ve never done the whole romantic thing, and now I’m panicking and it’s ruining your perfectly good noodles-"

Red Son stepped forward before MK could freak out any further. With sudden boldness, he reached out, plucked the chopsticks from MK’s hand, and leaned in, just a little too close, causing the monkey's breath to hitch.

Red Son could feel the heat rise in his own face as a memory from his father’s words echoed in his mind.

"If you want to lead the dance, you must take the first step."

"I haven’t, either." Red Son said, surprising himself with how confident he sounded. "But I can take guesses."

Red Son coolly took a bite of MK’s noodles using MK’s own chopsticks. He chewed slowly, making a thoughtful little hum, like this was all a very normal thing to do and not something that had MK staring at him with a dropped jaw.

"Did you just-" MK started.

"Hmm?" Red Son, swallowing before speaking. "Were you expecting something else?"

MK snatched his chopsticks back, all while continuing to stare, awestruck at the fire demon, like he couldn’t believe he’d ever once thought he might be the one in control of the situation. Still pink in the cheeks beneath his mandarin face mark, he jabbed at his noodles.

"You should bathe next." Red Son suggested. "You have gunk such as cotton candy in your fur, I'll go after you. There should be clothing of various sizes in a cabinet, you should find some that are suitable."

"Oh, I do?" MK hummed before burying a claw in his fur only to pull out a disgusting knot full of dust, food, and sweat. It was weird, he wasn't even in his monkey form during the festival, was he that messy? "Okay, wow, I do. I'll go do that."

MK finished his meal and happily skipped to the open bathing chamber before closing the doors with a wagging tail. Red Son stood paralyzed after MK vanished behind the polished stone walls, the steam already beginning to hiss faintly as hot water flowed in the distance.

Red Son started pacing. What was he doing? His fancy boots clicked softly against the floor as he stalked back and forth, hands clenched and then flung open in frustrated bursts. This was idiotic. And he, the brilliant inventor Red Son, heir of the Bull Family, was the biggest idiot in the world. He was fully convinced now, beyond a shred of doubt, that MK had no idea what this room actually was. The monkey had willingly wandered into it and didn’t even blink, even when he noticed the heavy locks. Of course he didn’t. MK, with his nature as a stone creature and with his celestial monkey heritage outside of the natural order, had only recently found out he was more than human. He was raised as a human, and therefore had no idea what ancient demon traditions he was bumbling into.

Red Son buried his face in his hands for a moment, dragging his fingers down his cheeks with a low, mortified groan. It had all seemed so logical in the heat of the moment. He would take MK somewhere special, let him relax, and impress him, maybe. Above all, he'd do whatever MK asked of him, that's just how it worked. And now here he was, having essentially courtnapped the one person in existence who could make him feel like a malfunctioning machine and MK didn’t even know. He stared up at the high ceiling, exhaling smoke through his nose like a wild bovine in a dust storm, shaking his head as doubt crept in his head.

He should let him go. He had promised himself earlier that if MK wanted to leave, he wouldn’t stop him. But the truth settled in his chest like molten lead. If MK left… Red Son knew he would be devastated, a vow couldn't stop that. He wouldn't be angry, just… Defeated, like a candle light snuffed out. Fine, then he could be sad. If it was inevitable, then it would be allowed. But he absolutely would not lash out, not this time. He could endure the ache, he was strong. He would not burn down what he so carefully built. He would be calm, composed, and controlled… For MK.

He paused his lacing at the edge of the hearth, staring into the bright embers flickering within. If he needed to vent his fustrstuons, he would do it through creation. He would work on an invention or write poetry. Maybe even another song, if he had the nerve.

A few minutes of staring at the flames, he then became fearful as a realization sparked in his chest. His parents would know. They weren't home, likely still at the festival, but they wouldn’t stay out all night. And if he didn’t return to the fortress by dawn or make an appearance at the noodle shop, they’d eventually check here, especially with MK also missing. They would find out that the security systems have been reconfigured, and see how this chamber had been unsealed, they would immediately know what he’d done and what it meant.

And worse, he’d skipped one of the biggest traditions in a proper courtnapping. The blessings. He hadn’t asked for blessings from any of MK’s guardians. Not Pigsy, not Tang, not even Monkey King. It wasn’t a requirement, not strictly. Just… A tradition of a tradition. A polite formality, or perhaps a respectful heads-up that essentially meant "I’m going to try and court your kid now and there's nothing you could do about it because it's not up to you, but please don’t plot to murder me for trying."

It wasn’t even a binding thing. He could still proceed even if every last one of them told him no. But he hadn’t bothered to ask. Gods, he was so stupid. Normally he wasn’t like this. He wasn’t impulsive! That was more of MK’s domain, anyways. He planned things out obsessively. But now, he’d bypassed every carefully laid social formality for a decision made in the heat of the moment confession and a pair of star-bright eyes telling him "I’d like that."

Was it too late to ask for a blessing now?

…Yeah, probably.

He slumped down beside the hearth with elbows on his knees and stared into the fire again. The heat felt good. The glow matched the thrum in his chest, rapid, restless, dangerously close to exploding. Maybe if MK did decide to stay, he would wait a little while… Until MK fell asleep… Maybe then he could sneak out, pay a visit, and give a very sincere apology to all of MK's terrifying guardians… Or maybe just send a formal letter, was that too cowardly?

Red Son groaned softly, dragging a hand down his face. Why was courting so complicated? At some point during his brooding beside the hearth, Red Son’s thoughts began to drift. He didn’t notice at first, but his panic had melted into different thoughts. He caught himself imagining how MK might look relaxing on a sofa with an empty sketchbook in hand before doodling monkeys across the page, or maybe curled up in the oversized robe Red Son had custom-stitched for his hypothetical partner years ago, with the sleeves swallowing his hands and claws as he dragged his feet across the polished floors in search of a midnight snack. The idea made Red Son’s heart flutter and speed up. Taking care of MK actually sounded like a dream. That disastrous apartment MK lived in, Red Son had long itched to deep clean it ever since he stepped foot in it. He knew it wasn't all MK’s fault since he rarely had a moment to himself to relax. On his free days, he would spend it with friends. He was always too tired to clean his own room, it was quite sad how generous the Noodle Boy was.

But more than that, he wanted to better MK’s life, because if anyone deserved it, it was the selfless little hero that took care of everyone except himself. Red Son wanted to change MK’s diet and provide something other than noodles every day. He wanted to line the bathroom shelves with expensive soaps specifically crafted for scruffy, wild fur like MK’s. He would offer things with subtle oils that left his tufts silky soft instead of matted. He desired to stuff MK’s closet and dresser with high-quality attire, and maybe a few elegant tunics, hanfus, and jackets that wouldn't get torn easily in battle.

And then… The fantasies turned a little more scandalous. He pictured MK stepping out of the bath, steam and warm drops of water clinging to his dark fur, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, or MK sprawled across the silk sheets of the giant bed in the soft morning light with a drowsy smile as his tail coiled around Red Son’s arm. He imagined MK leaning over the workbench while Red Son worked, purring in his ear. He imagined the monkey’s mischievous eyes glinting as he stole a kiss in the middle of a conversation, or pressed closer in public just to watch Red Son flush and stammer.

"This was a mistake." Red Son buried his face in his knees as his hair flared subconsciously.

He imagined MK in the bed again, but this time, it wasn’t just soft morning light and sheets. MK would grab Red Son's wrist before pulling him down until they were besides each other. In another daydream, MK was perched on the edge of the bath with his long legs bare, teasing him with a splash and in ever-so-innocent tone he used when he definitely wasn’t being innocent.

"This was a mistake!" Red Son growled again, more to the empty room than himself. It was a mistake because the thoughts refused to stop.

He imagined MK grabbing a fistful of his collar and undoing his hairdo, pulling him down, only to end with them breathless on the floor, surrounded by fallen blankets and pillows now scattered and thrown across the room. Or worse, MK whispering something in that ridiculous high-pitched teasing voice right into his ear, or something to do with the monkey's long, prehensile tail brushing places Red Son absolutely shouldn’t be thinking about.

"Get it together-" Red Son hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to mentally slam the brakes.

He didn’t even hear MK’s footsteps. A gentle tap on his shoulder nearly sent him rocketing off the floor. He jolted upright, hair sparking, and turned to find MK standing behind him. His fur was dried but still damp. He wore a loose-fitting nightshirt slouching off one shoulder and leaving his chest slightly bare to the point where a third of his mandarin chest marking showed, along with shorts barely visible beneath the hem. 

"AHH-" Red Son blurted, then snapped his mouth shut.

"Yikes! Did I scare ya?" MK burst out laughing and pointed back toward the bath. "Your turn to bathe!"

Red Son nodded and swiftly strode over to the washroom with a fire trail smoking behind him as the monkey behind him shrieked with laughter. He shut the doors, turned the lock, and stripped from his elegant clothes with mechanical efficiency, sinking into the steaming bath like he could drown the red off his cheeks. Red Son dunked his face under once, then twice, scrubbing off the rest of the makeup and grime he picked up during the evening.

Hold up… Why was MK wearing sleepwear?

The question hit mid-scrub in his hair. Red Son hadn’t said anything about a sleepover. In fact, he was fairly certain they hadn't planned anything beyond bringing him here and giving him a proper meal. MK just wandered in, ate food, bathed, picked an outfit, and got comfy in record time. Then again, MK did have a habit of making himself at home. He was the type to stay up all night, then nod-off and invite himself to stay, falling asleep before you could tell him to beat it and scram. He was infuriatingly casual about boundaries.

Red Son, submerged to the neck, leaned back against the tile and stared at the high, raindow stained glass ceiling in disbelief. Did MK even realize he invited himself to be perfect courtnapping target?

Red Son stepped out of the steaming chamber, drying his hair as he adjusted the soft, high-quality nightwear, charcoal black with gold trim, perfectly tailored to him. His bare feet padded softly against the polished stone floor as he scanned the room. He couldn't find MK. The fire demon felt a strange tingle prickled at the back of his neck as an unwelcome, protective instinct surfaced. Where did he go? MK wasn’t the type to wander off without saying something, even in the arcade he always made sure his location was known. Unless…

Red Son tensed, his pace quickening as he stalked into the corridor. No alarms went off, the fortress’s security system was silent and still, which meant MK hadn’t tried to leave or been taken. Even with the proof right in his face, he couldn't help the unreasonable worry quickly rising.

MK had a bizarre, alarming talent for vanishing into thin air when he wanted. Red Son had seen it firsthand. MK could suppress his energy and presence so completely it was like he ceased to exist. He could walk through an entire crowd like he was never there. Not even powerful demons were able to sense him. He first experienced MK's freaky talent on Flower Fruit Mountain, it wasn't fun at all, like something straight out of a nightmare. It was also impressive during battle, MK would vanish in front of his opponent's eyes. He once watched MK sneak up on a demon general during a raid on the city and reduced the poor demon to a screaming mess just by popping into sight. Even Mei could attest to just how freaky it was, and how it wasn't fair playing hide-and-seek anymore. It meant MK was likely here somewhere, and could even be waiting to scare him again. Gods, he hoped not. 

It took another few minutes, but he finally found him in the sleeping quarters. MK was crouched by a cluster of shelves, poking at things, tail swaying curiously behind him. He hadn’t noticed Red Son enter yet, too absorbed with opening drawers, checking compartments, and inspecting the golden embroidery on the curtains, or peeking out the reinforced windows at the gardens below and volcanic scenery surrounding them.

Red Son’s heart leapt into his throat. He prayed to anyone listening that MK hadn't opened THAT cabinet yet. The one near the back. The one with… "Stuff."

MK turned around, bright-eyed and completely unaware of the silent fire bomb seconds away from exploding.

"Hey, you're done!" MK chirped, then clicked his claws together. "Is… There only one bed?"

Red Son could not tell if MK was joking or genuinely that oblivious. Judging by the completely unbothered look on his face, it was likely the latter.

"Yes." Red Son replied, managing to keep his voice formal, if not slightly stiff. "But you may sleep anywhere you wish. The ceiling beams, the rug, the couch, the bed, whatever suits your preferences."

"Cool." MK grinned and flopped face-first into a pile of fluffy pillows "I’m not gonna lie, this might be the best bed I’ve ever touched."

MK crawled toward the edge of the mattress and let his legs dangle off the side, with toes brushing the floor. He tilted his head up to where Red Son stood awkwardly, framed in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to step inside his own room.

"What's up?" MK chirped, tapping his heels against the frame."You don’t have to just stand there like a weirdo, you can sit!"

With a faint grumble under his breath and a glance he hoped didn’t look too flustered, the fire demon approached and perched stiffly on the edge of the bed, hands folded precisely in his lap. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, MK leaned slightly, grinning up at him with a shy, crooked smile that made something in Red Son's chest lurch and flip.

"Hey," MK purred, "I know I kinda said it earlier, but… I really do like you. I mean, I REALLY do… But, like, more than that."

Red Son’s breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the beautiful flame patterns on the sheets, where his fingers had curled into the fabric without him realizing. He wasn’t sure what he expected. He had a basic scheme, a quickly-made strategy for winning MK over with patience, but none of that mattered when MK was right here… And looking at him like that.

"I feel the same." Red Son replied.

MK’s smile brightened instantly, radiant like the rising sun. Red Son had to look away before he was caught staring. 

"...How long?" MK asked suddenly, voice light but laced with curiosity.

"Huh?"

But the look MK gave him said it all, and unfortunately, Red Son immediately understood.

"I answered you already," MK added, "So it’s only fair. How long have you liked me?"

"W- what?" Red Son stiffened. "Who said I liked you for a long time? I mean, yeah, I like you now, obviously, but-"

MK smirked smugly, and Red Son hated how much that smirk did to him, and his heart continued to do stupid little flips.

"You know what I mean!" MK said, leaning in just enough to make it worse. "But I want to hear you say it."

"Ugh, fine. If you must know… I’m unsure." He admitted it for the first time, even to himself. "Just that it was not long after we started working on the song. But when I heard you sing for the first time… I think that’s where it truly began."

"Aww, that’s cute." MK cooed.

"You said you wanted to catch my attention, and you succeeded," He murmured, "but what was your plan after that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said nothing about it to me." Red Son pointed out. "You just… Continued on hopelessly pining, I suppose?"

"You weren’t interested." MK said plainly.

Red Son opened his mouth, fully prepared to deny it, but then faltered. Because… MK wasn’t wrong. Back then, Red Son had genuinely thought he was ill, the idea of being lovesick had been the farthest thing from his mind. And before that, he absolutely would've flatout rejected MK without a second thought out of disgust. MK had been hanging onto his crush for over several years, no wonder he never said anything.

"And you liked me first." Red Son said a thought out loud.

"Guess so." MK just shrugged, shuffling in place, glancing at him sideways.

"Ridiculous Noodle Boy."

MK giggled, clearly amused, but before he could fire back with another teasing comment, he noticed the way Red Son was looking at him. Now it was his heart's turn to work overtime. They stared at each other as a light flickered between their eyes, like a fire spark that was quickly growing. There's no telling if it was real or if they were hallucinating it. Regardless, they both felt something.

Without another word, Red Son leaned in. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it bold. It was hesitant, giving MK a chance to pull away if he didn't feel comfortable. Their noses bumped slightly, and Red Son froze as it happened, caught in a silent panic. He waited for MK to pull away… But he didn’t. He remained in front of him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape… And gave the faintest nod. That was all Red Son needed.

Red Son exhaled slowly, steadying himself once more, and then tried again, closing the space between them. MK melted into him instantly. 

It wasn’t perfect, far from it. They were both clearly new to this. Red Son was too careful at first, his movements almost rigid like he was terrified of messing it up. But when MK tilted his head and kissed him back, soft and confident, something in Red Son gave way, biting his pride and letting the Noodle Boy take the lead. While MK did his thing, Red Son’s palm came up to caress the side of the monkey's face, brushing through the cheek fur, leaving his entire hand smelling like citrus and ginger. MK’s long claws gripped the front of Red Son’s robe, preventing the other from pulling away.

And Red Son, who has spent so long running from this, from mysterious feelings he didn’t know how to name. He finally understands that this was always inevitable from the moment the spark was lit, and MK had ignited it after years of trying. His other hand moved to MK’s right hand, finding the moment as the perfect excuse to explore. The scar was there, he couldn't see it, but he could feel it. The day they met, the same day MK took interest in him. It's baffling to think about, falling for someone that tried to kill you. Only MK would do that.

Meanwhile, MK smiled into the kiss, because holy crap, he knew it! He knew Red Son had it in him to be sweet when he wasn't stressed! When he wasn’t overthinking it, Red Son was… Well, he was kind of perfect. The fire demon was incredibly considerate, passionate, intelligent, handsome, and so much more.

When they pull away, Red Son’s face is bright red, more than his hair. He cleared his throat, looking away as quickly as possible, afraid to make eye contact with MK.

MK bursts out laughing.

"What?" Red Son forced himself to look at the bumbling monkey.

"Nothing! You’re just-" He leans in again, pressing an unexpected, playful kiss to Red Son’s cheek. "Like, really hot, in more ways than one."

"I- YOU-" He covers his face, groaning into his palms. "I hate you."

"You're supposed to like me, remember?"

"O- Okay, well, that happened!" Red Son stammered, scrambling to his feet. "I should- Uhh- Perhaps give you space, and…"

He turned to walk off, to flee the moment before his brain melted away entirely, but MK laughed again, catching Red Son completely off guard. Red Son paused his hasty retreat only to see a blur fly by him.

"Hey, Red!" He called, suddenly in front of Red Son. 

The fire demon barely had time to turn around before MK, crouched low to the ground on all fours, wiggled his hips and launched forward. Something slammed into Red Son's chest. He found himself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief with MK grinning above him, legs on either side, pinning him down.

"M- MK!" Red Son stammered, half outraged and half stunned. "What are you doing?"

"I wasn’t done." MK purred.

"Did-" Red Son said, realizing their positions. "Did you pounce on me?"

"Yep." MK stuck out his tongue. "No takesies-backsies on the kiss, sorry!"

"Fine, what do you want, Noodle Boy?" Red Son huffed, once again avoiding eye contact.

"I just… Want a little more." MK leaned down slightly, lowering himself until their noses almost touched again. "If that’s okay."

"You want more?" He echoed faintly. He could barely breathe, let alone think. "Of what?"

"What do you think?" MK lifted Red Son's head by the chin. "Of you." 

"...Me?"

"You DID say I could have whatever I wanted." He cooed innocently, grinning devilishly as he glanced down at Red Son, still pinned beneath him.

"What…" Red Son’s eyes narrowed, suddenly aware he was in very real danger. "Exactly are you going to do?"

"Something I should’ve done earlier."

MK’s smirk widened, downright smug now. He leaned in close, pushing them further up the bed. He rested his weight more firmly as he settled atop him again, with his knees bracketing Red Son’s hips, completely unbothered by how flustered the fire demon was becoming by the second.

"You kissed me, and I liked it." MK explained. "And now I want more."

"Oh." Was all Red Son managed to say.

"Unless you’re gonna stop me…" MK growled, lifting his lips up slightly to reveal sharp fangs.

MK chuckled, leaning in just a bit closer, claws brushing lightly up Red Son’s chest like he had no idea the chaos he was causing. 

"I didn’t say that!" Red Son blurted immediately, hands twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to push MK off or pull him closer.

"Then stop looking like you’re about to pass out!" MK giggled.

"I won't, " Red Son swore, "But you better not mess up the bed."

"You know I can't promise that." MK grinned.

And then, before MK could make another infuriating remark, Red Son yanked him down into another kiss. MK squeaked in surprise, his smug expression vanishing as he was abruptly dragged down, colliding with Red Son’s mouth. This time, there was no hesitant brush or tentative test. It was heated, confident, and absolutely incredible. MK barely had time to think, but his tail snuck around both of Red Son's legs, like it couldn't decide which one to wrap around, so it just squeezed them both together. His claws snuck up to stifle through the long, red hair, which was already down and spilled across the mattress.

By the time they pulled apart, MK was dazed. Red Son snickered victoriously and watched MK collapse beside him. They laid side-by-side, staring at the ceiling in silence with nothing but panting breaths.

"So… what now?" The fire demon murmured, looking over.

"Well…" MK tilts his head toward him, lips twitching. "We could keep making out."

"MK!" Red Son snapped and sat up to chuck a pillow at the monkey. MK cackled, dodging the heart pillow Red Son threw at him.

Stupid, ridiculous musical misadventure, how on earth did they end up here? Just a few weeks ago, Red Son would get aggravated when MK teased or even touched him. Their collaboration might’ve turned into something far bigger than either of them planned… Or, to MK, it all went exactly to plan. 

It wasn't long until MK tackled him again. Having at least some common sense left rattling around in his thoroughly scrambled noggin, Red Son snapped his fingers. The fire in the lanterns dimmed to a warm, golden glow, and with another swoosh of his hand, the heavy door slammed shut behind them with a whoosh of flames. The sound made MK jump slightly but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he laughed softly against Red Son’s lips.

"Overkill." MK breathed.

Now that the room was dimmer, it made everything feel more private and intimate. MK didn’t hold back, his kisses were eager, borderline mischievous, trailing over Red Son’s arms, neck, and chest like he was mapping out every inch for later. Red Son, for his part, was doing his best not to catch on fire.

But then MK’s claws shifted lower. They brushed beneath the bottom of his nightshirt, playfully at first, and Red Son didn’t mind… Until MK’s fingers curled around the hem and tugged, trying to pull up. He didn't mean to cause any harm, but Red Son panicked. His hands shot down, grabbing MK’s wrists harshly.

"Wait!" He gasped, keeping a firm grip on MK's hand.

"What?" MK leaned back with a startled, guilty expression. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I’m not-" Red Son exhaled, now also feeling guilty for freaking out and ruining the moment. "I’m not ready, it’s too early. I didn’t think we’d… Not tonight-"

"Hey, It’s okay, it's my fault for not asking." MK sighed, releasing his grip on the shirt and sat up a little more. "Seriously, I didn’t mean to rush you."

"I didn’t even realize I wasn’t ready until you started to- Ugh, this is infuriating!" Red Son looked away, frustrated with himself. 

"You’re fine. We’re fine. I’m sure I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay… Thank you." Red Son nodded slowly, trying to calm down from the shock of adrenaline. "I’m sorry, I told you that you could have whatever you wanted. I meant it, but I just didn’t think-"

"I do want something else." MK cut him off with a soft grunt, lowering himself again and nudging Red Son’s shoulder with his muzzle. "I want you to be comfortable, too. That’s gonna be part of the deal."

MK purred as he tucked himself against the crook of Red Son’s neck. Red Son blinked at the warm puff of air against his throat, then let out an involuntary sigh as his muscles relaxed again. MK’s fur smelled and felt incredible, soft against his skin. The monkey was slower now, burrowing his arms beneath the fire demon and in-between the mattress, wrapping around his waist, setting like he planned to stay there all night. Red Son tilted his head slightly, letting MK nestle in deeper with his nose touching where his head met his neck.

"I like this better, anyway." MK’s voice was muffled when he spoke again.

"Better than what?" Red Son huffed a faint laugh, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Better than rushing, I'm really glad you stopped me." MK replied simply, closing his eyes. "This feels right."

MK fell asleep first, purring loudly at his side despite being deep in slumber. The soft, steady rumble vibrated against Red Son’s chest, matching the rhythm of his own heartbeat perfectly. Red Son laid still for a moment, letting the quiet settle. 

Then it hit him. He completely forgot to tell MK. 

He hadn’t explained his intentions, courtnapping, rituals, or how Red Son accidentally bypassed nearly every polite protocol that demon culture expected. He didn’t ask for the blessings from MK’s guardians, and he surely didn’t follow any of the traditions properly. And now dawn was creeping closer with every passing breath, ready to unveil this mess to the world. His heart sank, both their families were probably worried sick. But then… He looked down at the monkey peacefully curled against him, snoring faintly. Red Son reached up and brushed a stray lock of fur back from MK’s face, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary around the perimeter of that beautiful mandarin marking.

"Bah… I don’t care anymore." He concluded, closing his eyes.

He no longer cared about any stupid traditions or what their parents would say. Mistakes were made, but just like MK told him before they performed their song at the festival, there was no need to always be perfect.

Chapter Text

Red Son woke first, groggy and hot beneath thick blankets that weren't there last night, and a heavier warmth stretched across his chest. MK was curled halfway on top of him, tail wound around their legs leg and his cheek was squished against Red Son’s collarbone, softly purring in his sleep. For a moment, Red Son didn’t move. He didn’t want to. The light filtering through the slight crack of the blackout curtains hinted at mid-morning. They had definitely overslept. 

Oh well, too bad, doesnt mean he has to wake up yet. Just five more min-

BANG- BANG- BANG-

Both of them shot upright. MK’s limbs flailed as they got knotted in the blankets and each other, scrambling to untangle themselves. MK wormed his way free, first only rolling off the side and promptly faceplate on the floor.

"What was that?" MK hissed, attempting to smoothing down his wild fur and crawling back on the mattress. "It wasn't just me who heard that, right?"

"Hold on…" Red Son staggered to his feet and crossed to the window, pulling the curtain back just a sliver. Just like he thought, the sun had been up. "It’s daylight already, dammit!"

"Wait... Is that Pigsy?" MK, now listening closely, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as the voices beyond the reinforced door rose. "And- Monkey King? Wait, I think I hear your parents, too!"

"Which means... Everyone knows." Red Son winced.

"Know what exactly?" MK blinked at him. 

BANG- BANG- BANG-

Muffled voices shouted something from the other side of the chamber’s heavy door, and even through the layers of stone and soundproofing. Apparently, superpowered beings can easily conquer even the best soundproof walls, and so can MK's scenes, apparently.

"This is not how I imagined this morning going…" Red Son groaned, covering his face with both hands. 

"But why would they all be here?" MK jumped out the bed and began to pace the room. "Do they think I'm in danger?"

"I guess I have to tell you now." Red Son gritted his teeth, already regretting every life decision that led to this moment. "Because I may have… Accidentally initiated a full courtnapping ritual without telling anyone."

"...You what?" MK stared at him. "I have no idea what that means."

"Look, hear me out, I didn’t mean to at first! But then you said yes and you liked the room, and you stayed overnight, and- And it escalated, alright? I meant to tell you before anything got too serious!"

"Uhhhhh…" MK blinked, utterly baffled. "So… wait. Are you telling me… I got kidnapped romantically?"

"It’s more complicated than that!" Red Son hissed, flustered beyond belief. "There are rules! Rituals! I was supposed to ask for blessings! This was supposed to be symbolic, it's supposed to prove that I can provide and would do anything for you! I would've let you go if you asked! But now your entire found-family unit is outside, and my parents are probably arguing over whether or not they should disown me for breaking traditions!"

"Huh." MK hummed. "That explains the pajamas. And the singular bed. And the locks. And the fact that this place is like a house."

"You’re missing the point-" Red Son groaned. 

"Mei was right. This really does have so much drama potential." MK let out a long, slow whistle. "She is gonna lose her mind over this."

"Can we focus, please? I haven't done anything right! I didn’t even tell my parents I was bringing someone home to stay the night! They’re going to KILL me!"

"And what about my guardians?" MK's tail tucked father between his legs. "They sound upset!"

"They have every right to be." Red Son yanked at his hair and started pacing alongise MK. "I was supposed to explain everything last night, but we fell asleep! This is all my fault-"

The banging resumed, louder this time, with someone shouting Red Son’s name in a mix of frustration and parental disappointment. What was the point of having soundproof walls if they weren't soundproof?

"Let me get this straight." MK leaned against the bedpost, arms folded but grinning. "You forgot to tell everyone, including me?"

Red Son awkwardly looked away, shuffling his feet as MK continued.

"I was just here thinking we were hanging out and being awkward and adorable." MK said with a snicker. "Not that I was being swept away into some ancient demon courting ritual."

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG- The pounding on the door intensified. This time, the duo thought it was thrown off the hinges for a second.

"...We need to get dressed in something other than nightwear." Red Son sighed, defeated.

"Oh yeah absolutely," MK nodded, "but I want you to know that I’m still processing the fact I got kidnapped with romance or whatever."

"Symbolically!" Red Son shouted over his shoulder as he raced to the closet. "It’s symbolic! Gods, I’m going to die today."

"At least you’re not the one who has to explain this to Pigsy."

Red Son stopped pacing and turned sharply toward MK. He marched right up to him and grabbed his shoulders.

"No." Red Son said. "You’re not doing that. You’re not walking out there and explaining anything to them like it’s your fault, because none of this is."

"I wasn’t gonna say it was my fault-"

"I know how you are, you are self-sacrificing and annoyingly heroic." Red Son’s hands twitched. "That's why I'm doing this-"

Without another word, he leaned down and scooped MK up into a bridal carry, sauntering across the room, and tossed him onto the bed.

"AHH-" MK yelped as he suddenly became airborne, crashing down on the plush mattress and immediately getting lost in the blankets.

"You are not getting dragged into this confrontation." Red Son said, already turning. He spotted MK’s phone on the nightstand, grabbed it, and chucked it at him. "Here, while I get dressed and face the collective wrath of our families, you are going to do research."

"On what?"

"Courtnapping!" Red Son shouted from across the room, already halfway to the wardrobe. "If I’m going down, the very least you can do is understand what I got you into!"

"Ah, alright." MK caught the phone with wide eyes, already typing furiously as he mumbled. "How do you spell courtnapping- Oh, wait, there’s a checklist?"

"Don’t read it out loud!"

"Step one, obtain mutual affection." MK ignored him, reading with increasing horror. "Step two, gain blessings from family, and be aware humans don't like this practice. Step three… Oh my gods you really DID courtnap me!"

"And now I have to explain to both of our parents why it wasn’t a hostile takeover."

"Red." MK looked up from the phone, still stunned. "You’re SO dead."

"If I fall today, tell Mei I died doing something noble." Red Son rolled his eyes, putting on a presentable jacket, not bothering to tie his hair up.

"Got it." MK saluted from the bed. "I’ll carve it on your headstone. Death by dumbassery over spicy noodle-delusions in the name of love."

With one last glare at the monkey and only a minor stumble over the edge of the rug, Red Son marched out of the bedroom. His legs betrayed him and wobbled like they hadn’t agreed to this plan at all. By the time he reached the main hallway, the banging had stopped.

He stopped a few feet short of the imposing, massive reinforced double doors, sleek and metal-lined, packed with rows of heavy, intricate locks. Red Son stared at the biometric scanner next to it. His reflection shimmered blue next to the smooth black surface of the doors.

"Alright." He sighed, fixing his posture. "You're an adult. You can handle this. You are, by all technical definitions, a suitor who kidnapped his crush for traditional reasons and is now going to face literally everyone’s judgment."

He glared one last time at the scanner.

"...Here lies Red Son," He muttered as he slammed his hand on the scanner, "Genius. Inventor. Fool."

The screen plate under his palm dinged softly before turning green. Every lock on the door clicked open in a perfectly timed sequence one by one. A final hiss of steam dispersed as the final one disengaged. Red Son inhaled deeply, stepping back and bracing himself as the doors began to open…

And EVERYONE was there.

His parents stood front and center. His mother’s arms were crossed, and he couldn't read her expression. His father looked like he hadn’t decided whether to scold or praise yet, even looking somewhat proud. Behind them was MK’s entire entourage. Pigsy’s hooves were planted on his hips, face flushed and furious. Tang looked bored but no less exasperated. Sandy offered a very awkward, very strained wave. Mei had her hands shoved in pockets, a smirk twitching at her lips, enjoying the show way too much. And then there were the monkeys. Wukong’s tail lashed behind him with barely restrained irritation, arms folded tight across his chestplate. Macaque, meanwhile, was surprisingly and completely calm with his six perked ears with a toothy grin on his face.

Red Son swallowed hard. Welp, this was it. He straightened his spine, forced his voice to work, and said as diplomatically as possible:

"Good morning, lovely weather we're having."

"…"

"..."

"LOVELY WEATHER?" Pigsy exploded. "Why I oughta-"

Tang quickly grabbed him by the sleeve to hold him back, but it didn’t stop his yelling. Sandy sighed in relief while Mei outright laughed. Wukong pinched the bridge of his nose like he was on the verge of an aneurysm. Macaque just nodded at the fire demon silently.

"Red Son." His mother began. "What exactly do you think you’re doing?"

"Don't worry, I'm handling the situation." Red Son replied, voice wobbling despite his best efforts. "Very… Tactfully."

"You’re stalling." His father huffed gruffly.

"I'm being diplomatic!"

"Where’s MK?" Mei asked in between laughter. "He didn’t answer any of our messages. We thought he was kidnapped!"

"Technically… He was." Red Son winced. 

Of course Mei also didn't know, dragons had their own traditions that consisted of showering their desired mate in riches and their best looking shedded scales, sometimes going as far as to pull off healthy ones if they looked good enough to give.

The silence that followed was loud enough to be deafening.

"Courtnapped!" Red Son blurted, raised his hands quickly once Mei’s jaw dropped. "It’s a very specific demon tradition, I promise! He’s completely fine!"

"Yo!" MK's voice rang out faintly behind him from the room, listening in on the conversation. "Red, does the internet count as a reliable source?" 

"He’s still… Learning about it."

"Did he just say courtnapping?" Tang blinked.

"Wait, I’ve heard of that!" Sandy chimed in. "I know it's an ancient demon tradition, Isn’t that where-"

"You kidnapped your crush, HAAAAA HAA!" Mei wheezed, pointing an teasing finger.

"In a cultural context, yes." Red Son looked to the side avoiding all eye contact.

"Cultural context? Are you SERIOUS?" Pigsy looked like he might spontaneously combust. "He's a noodle delivery boy, not a damsel in distress!"

"I checked for consent!" Red Son shouted back, flushing bright red. "He stayed the night willingly!"

"Heh." Macaque chuffed with a barely hidden grin. "He is a damsel."

"I am NOT a damsel!" MK shouted from down the hall, peeking his head around the corner looking like a disheveled mess.

"Why are you still in the pajama set?" Red Son glared at the scruffy monkey in the hall. And after all that effort to look presentable.

"Because it's comfortable and smells like you, shut up!" MK yelled before thinking before slamming a hand over his mouth.

Another wave of silence followed.

"I need tea." Wukong growled under his breath. "Or wine. Maybe both."

"If I let you all in, will you promise to yell less?" Red Son sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and realized he didn't have his glasses on.

"Not likely!" Pigsy snapped.

"That depends." Mei giggled. "Did MK get to kiss you yet?"

Red Son’s hair flickered. But before he could respond, MK saved him.

"MEI!" MK shouted, cutting her off.

"Alright, everyone, just take a breath." Macaque held up a hand, silencing the bickering before it could go any further. "I couldn’t help but overhear their little chat when they woke up. Soundproof walls don’t mean much against me."

"You eavesdropped? "Red Son stiffened.

"I have six ears." Macaque smirked. "It’s practically in my job description."

Pigsy opened his mouth to argue, but Macaque beat him to it.

"MK was perfectly fine about everything. He didn’t seem upset or cornered. And from what I gathered, Red Kid here had a full-on crisis over whether or not he messed up. He even talked about how he failed to ask for blessings and how he'd let MK go if that’s what he wanted. To me, that didn’t sound like a demon who was trying to trap anyone."

"You… Actually listened?" Red Son replied, shocked. Just what did this magic monkey overhear?

"Don’t flatter yourself, I was bored." Macaque rolled his eyes. "I might have saved your hide by doing that, you're welcome."

Just then, MK stepped fully into view from the hallway, still in pajamas with one hand still holding his phone. 

"He’s not lying!" He called out and began walking to the door. He stopped behind Red Son, brushing against his side. "I'm perfectly fine about everything!"

"There, see? Everything’s all good." Macaque sighed. "Nobody got courtnapped against their will and we're all happy now."

"I vote we move this to the living room." MK chirped. "You know, far away from the door, where people don’t yell."

"Cool by me." Mei said, already heading inside. "Also, Red Boy, I'm raiding your kitchen."

Mei yelped as Red Son hooked two fingers in the collar of her jacket and yanked her backward.

"Excuse you," Red Son growled, "Those snacks are not for common raiders. They're for a singular special guest and that isn't you."

"Oh come on!" Mei whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. "You stole MK, I think I’ve earned snacks just for not breaking down the door!"

"You breaking down the door was precisely what I was trying to prevent!"

"Yeah, and I didn’t!" Mei argued, sticking out her tongue. "You’re welcome, by the way. Do you know how hard it is to hold back when Monkey King was already winding up like he’s about to smash in the whole wall? I don't care how strong your little hideout is, I guarantee it stands no chance against pissed off mystic monkeys."

"I heard that." Wukong grumbled from the back.

"Fine-" Red Son sighed through gritted teeth, clearly restraining himself. "You may have one snack. And not the fancy ones."

"Deal." Mei grinned, already halfway to the kitchen.

Before Red Son could stalk after her, MK reached out and grabbed his hand, gently tugging him away.

"C’mon," MK giggled with a reassuring smile, "Let’s go sit down before something inevitably explodes."

Red Son growled something under his breath, but allowed himself to be led. The moment the duo moved, the rest of the crowd started shuffling in after them. Tang and Sandy were already deep in conversation while Wukong and Pigsy were still muttering complaints. Red Son's parents came in next, and Macaque brought up the rear with a loud yawn.

Everyone eventually settled in the living room with some on couches while others got cozy on floor cushions. DBK and PIF stood aside behind the sofas. Mei came in and claimed a pillow on the floor. Mo jumped onto her lap and began to purr. MK sat down on the couch next to Tang as Red Son stood at the edge of the room, trying not to fidget as everyone finally settled. He cleared his throat before finding the courage to speak.

"I…" Red Son's voice cracked embarrassingly on the first try. He winced and started over. "I owe you all an apology… For everything."

He looked around the room, making eye contact with each of them, even Wukong and Pigsy, who was still glared daggers at the half-bull.

"I acted impulsively. I didn’t go about this the right way. I didn’t ask for anyone’s blessing, and I didn’t even tell MK what I was up to. I got caught up in my feelings and, despite my incredible self-discipline, let it override my common sense."

He turned slightly, facing MK now, and softened.

"And to you… I’m sorry I didn’t explain sooner or even give you a chance to react before dragging you into this mess."

"Dragged?" MK blinked up at him from the couch with one leg draped over the armrest like a hooligan. "You didn’t drag me, I pretty much went with it."

"That doesn’t negate the fact that I knew there was a chance you didn't know what was going on!" Red Son sputtered, flustered.

"I literally crawled on top of you and said I wanted more," MK deadpanned, "I think we’re fine."

The tension in the room cracked as several of the adults groaned or sighed at once. Mei was silently screaming and covering her mouth while kicking her feet, using every fiber of her being not to laugh, shoving her face into Mo’s fur to muffle the giggles that slipped out. Oh, right, they had an audience. 

"We did not need to hear that." Pigsy coughed into his arm. "You’re grounded when you get home."

"I’m an adult!" MK complained.

"Grounded." Pigsy repeated.

"Regardless-" Red Son spoke up again. "I'm still sorry. And I’ll accept whatever punishment or tasks the family sees fit for me to earn back your trust."

"You’re lucky that MK likes you back, otherwise I’d be slamming you through your own floor right now!" Pigsy bellowed, jabbing a hoof at the fire demon.

"I did try to warn you, Piglet." Wukong whistled above the angry pig demon. "MK’s been lovestruck for, like, years. I'm honestly surprised this didn’t happen sooner."

"EH?" Pigsy turned to the golden monkey with a murderous glare. "You KNEW?"

"I’m the Great Sage, of course I knew!" Wukong said with a wink. "Besides, it was fun to watch. Still not so happy about the whole blessings thing, though "

"I, for one, think this is hilarious." Macaque just leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smile, arms behind his head like he was watching his favorite drama series unfold, minus the popcorn. "It really brought the whole family together."

"It’s a bit… unorthodox, sure." Tang, leaning comfortably on one of Sandy’s massive arms, nodded. "It’s kind of sweet in a weird way."

"I like that he stood up for MK." Sandy chuckled warmly. "Took guts. A little clumsy, but gutsy."

"Thanks?" Red Son rubbed his arm.

At the back of the room, DBK cleared his throat. 

"I admit, I expected many things from my son. A Monkie Kid was not one of them."

"Still… I’m satisfied with the outcome." PIF nodded faintly. "You finally did something bold that didn't result in anyone's property damage for once."

"You’re… Proud?" Red Son said slowly.

"Boldness is our family’s strength." His father nodded, arms crossed. "You acted on your convictions. Did you think I courted your mother with her family's blessings? I didn't bother asking or following tradition, either."

"You lit my sister’s prized lily garden on fire." PIF shot her husband a sideways look. "But I married him anyway. Sometimes, love makes fools of us all. I figured if he was bold enough to challenge my entire family, he was bold enough to keep me interested."

"Okay, now that’s romance goals." MK leaned in toward Red Son, whispering behind his hand.

"I set your apartment on fire already." Red Son deadpanned before nervously glancing at Pigsy out of the corner of his eye. "No more arson."

Everyone slowly relaxed. Tension was replaced by the comforting murmur of casual chatter and the occasional burst of laughter. Someone turned on the TV to an episode of Cooking with Chang'e. Pigsy muttered under his breath but eventually gave in, heading into the kitchen to make MK's favorite noodles, grumbling about kids these days and their overdramatic declarations of love. Meanwhile, DBK rolled up his sleeves and began baking a celebratory cake with his wife watching from the side. 

Mei laid across two floor cushions with Mo still nestled in her lap. She had her phone out and was already showing off her devious photography skills.

"You have to see this one!" She said, scooting between MK and Red Son and turning her phone toward them. "I’ve got, like, thirty good secret shots from the music fest. Oh, and don't worry, I drove your fancy little sports car here after you two ditched it last night, you're welcome by the way."

MK leaned in eagerly while Red Son hesitated, then scooted closer out of curiosity.

"There!" Mei grinned, swiping to one particular photo. "That’s the one when I told you two won first place. MK, you look like you’re about to suddenly take off flying!"

In the photo, MK’s arms were tightly wrapped around Red Son, jumping in the air. Red Son's eyes were wide with surprise, but he was smiling. It was genuine and brilliant, like he forgot the world was watching.

Red Son stared at it for a moment, a flush rising up his neck. 

"...I like that one." He said quietly before coughing into his fist.

"Me too!" MK replied with a grin, bumping his shoulder against Red Son’s.

"Don’t worry," Mei cooed, "I’ll print it and frame it."

"Please don’t." Red Son groaned.

"Too late." She wiggled her eyebrows and spat out her tongue.

"Heh, young love." Macaque chuckled from his perch on the arm of the couch. "Equal parts embarrassing and adorable."

Wukong made a face at the dark monkey but said nothing about it, folding his arms as he sank into the couch with a slightly less-angry grumble, finally content with the situation.

"I think we’re good with everyone now, Right?" MK laughed and leaned back against Red Son’s side. 

"Yeah." Red Son sighed. "We’re good."

While Mei continued to tease them, Red Son glanced toward his parents. Both were still standing behind the counter and watching the oven clock. Now seemed like the right moment. He stood and made his way over, temporarily leaving MK to the feisty dragon. He kept walking until he stood in front of his parents, fidgeting slightly. 

"Mother. Father."

"Yes?" DBK arched his brow. 

"I just…" He hesitated, then straightened his spine. "I wanted to thank you. For… The talk. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, because I thought that I didn't need it, but it helped more than I realized."

"It’s a parent’s job to say what their child doesn’t want to hear." His mother nodded.

"And a child’s job is to ignore it until they crash into their feelings headfirst and get caught up in the moment." DBK added with a grunt, though his grin betrayed pride. 

"Sounds about right." Red Son chuckled. 

They stood together for a few more moments and spoke quietly, with Red Son asking questions he hadn’t dared ask before, with DBK giving surprisingly patient answers, and PIF offering the occasional blunt correction or addition.

The oven beeped. Without a word, DBK turned and walked toward the kitchen. Red Son moved beside his father. They reached for the oven handles at the same time, glanced at each other, and then opened the door together. The heat rolled out, rich with the scent of vanilla, spice, and faintly scorched, but in a good, crunchy way. 

They both stood at the open oven, staring at the cake for a moment longer before DBK nudged him lightly with an elbow. 

"You did good today, son."

Red Son glowed in the rare praise from his father, not even bothering to hide the sparks igniting in his hair. 

"Thank you, father."

His father reached for an oven mitt and Red Son used his bare hands. In a rare moment of wordless synchronicity, they pulled the cake out together. Setting it on a cooling rack, they got to admire the pastry. It was a perfectly risen cake, golden-brown and just slightly puffed at the center. 

"Not bad, eh?" The bull snorted, a strong puff of air rising his nose ring slightly.

"Not bad at all." Red Son gave a small, proud smirk. "All it needs is some decoration."

They moved the cake to the marble island counter once it cooled, setting it down carefully. DBK rolled up his sleeves while Red Son fetched the icing bags and decorative toppings, sprinkles, sliced fruits, even little edible glitter shards. It was pretty amusing to think that all of this had been stored in this cabinet for who knows how long.

"Let’s make this look actually celebratory." Red Son said, rolling up his sleeves.

"You’ve got your mother’s eye for aesthetics, I trust I'll look fine by the end." DBK nodded, already unscrewing the lid on a piping bag. 

They worked steadily, with Red Son outlining flame motifs around the edges while DBK carefully wrote words in bold, swirling letters across the center, which was surprising for someone with fingers that were the size of small bricks. It was oddly peaceful after the tense confrontation, quiet enough that Red Son could hear the TV in the background, mixed with faint laughter from the living room.

After a moment, DBK spoke.

"Why him?"

"Huh?" Red Son paused, halfway through a swirl of gold icing. 

"MK." DBK looked at him. "Out of everyone, you chose the little thief, a former enemy. Honestly, I would think you’d go for someone that matches your personality. A little more… Elegant."

Red Son stared at the cake in silence. Then he set down the icing, brushing a few specks of glittering sugar off his fingertips.

"I used to think I needed someone perfect," He admitted, "A no-nonsense companion who could finish my sentences or match me beat-for-beat, but that’s not what I need."

He glanced toward the living room, where he could just make out MK’s carefree laugh.

"I don’t need someone to complete me," Red Son continued, "I need someone who compliments me. Who thinks differently, can challenge me, stand by my side, and remind me to breathe when I get too in my own head. Someone who doesn’t fold when things get hard."

He looked back at his father.

"With MK, we don’t make sense on paper. But somehow… We work. And I think that’s why we can handle just about anything."

DBK was quiet for a moment. Then he gave a soft grunt of approval, nodding.

"Well said." He nodded. "Bold and honest. You’ve really grown."

DBK added a final line of gold detailing to the edge of the cake, then glanced sideways at his son. 

"How’d he even catch your attention in the first place?"

"Apparently… he’s been trying to for years and I didn’t even notice." Red Son scoffed. "He said he’d do dumb dorky stuff just to get a reaction out of me. It never worked, not until we wrote that song together."

"The one that won the festival?"

"The very same." Red Son leaned against the counter, licking a smear of icing off his thumb. "That was when it changed. I started seeing him differently. He’s passionate, creative, and undoubtedly chaotic and oftentimes unpredictable, but focused when it mattered. And when I heard him sing for the first time, that was the final nail in the coffin. He never treated me like a villain, even when I acted like one. He listens. He pushes me to be better, wants me to be better, but doesn’t expect me to change who I am completely. I didn’t mean for all this to happen, but… I didn't mean to, but once it started, I couldn’t stop thinking about him… I won't lie."

DBK grunted with a faint smirk of his own. Red Son went quiet for a moment, tapping the counter thoughtfully behind him.

"What about that fight I heard whispers about?"

"It was rough," He admitted, "It nearly ruined everything."

"Is that why you were upset for a week straight?" DBK frowned. "What happened?"

"It wasn’t just one thing. It was… A lot of unsaid stuff. Misunderstandings, assumptions, and I felt feelings I haven't before, which stressed me out. It boiled over."

"Clearly you made it through."

"We did." Red Son smiled softly. "We apologized. Talked, really talked, for the first time. And weirdly, it made us stronger. Instead of breaking apart, we figured out how to be better for each other."

"I see." His father hummed. "And from what I see, you fell so hard for that boy, you neglected every family tradition just to courtnap him."

"Father-" Red Son hissed out the corner of his mouth.

"All that talk about formality and approval, and the next thing I know, you’ve gone full rogue and spirited him away in the night!" DBK chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that shook his shoulders. 

"I did not spirit him away!" Red Son sputtered. "He agreed to come with me after I asked!"

"Yes, I'm aware." DBK said, clearly enjoying himself. "But you really surprised everyone."

"It wasn’t exactly planned, It's just… It happened!" Red Son groaned. "And then it was too late to turn back once I realized what I've done."

"Sounds familiar." DBK was grinning now. "You really are your father’s son sometimes."

"Gods, don't tell me." Red Son blinked. "YOU courtnapped Mother even when she was still a celestial maiden, right? I knew that, but exactly how?"

"She’ll tell you I kicked down her family's gates and dared anyone to stop me." DBK puffed proudly. "And she wasn’t even surprised, she actually came down to meet me and challenged me to impress her."

"…That explains so much." Red Son rolled his eyes. "I look like mother and have her focus, but I act more like you."

"Don’t worry. We’ll count this as your official rebellion phase since you apparently skipped out on one growing up." DBK patted his shoulder with a heavy hand. "You just happened to take a boyfriend with you."

Red Son, flustered beyond words, went back to staring at the ceiling.

Once the cake was ready, the warm scent of sweet spices filled the kitchen, drawing everyone in like moths to a flame. Mei was the first to barge in, holding her phone up.

"Wait! Group cake pics! I claim the role of official photographer!"

Everyone groaned but lined up anyway. Mei directed them with a surprisingly professional eye, setting up the shots before passing the camera to Tang for her turn to join in. One by one, the pictures were taken with family and friends. Red Son stood with his parents, arms stiffly at his sides while Mei snapped a few before rushing to get MK and shoving him into the next photo. They stood awkwardly next to each other, both a little flushed, trying not to make eye contact with their very amused audience.

"Okay, Red Boy, lean in a little, don’t be weird- A little closer, and smile like a person! Yeeeaaah there we go!" Mei encouraged him from behind the screen.

Red Son sighed but did as she spoke, fully distracted by how warm MK’s hand felt on his back. Right as he turned his head to awkwardly ask if they were done, he missed MK passing Mei a subtle wink. A heartbeat later, MK rose onto his toes and pressed a quick kiss to Red Son’s cheek. There was a collective gasp, a few cheers, and an audible click when Mei snapped the picture on her phone, grinning madly.

"Awwww!" Mei cooed.

Tang and Sandy laughed while Pigsy groaned into his hooves. Wukong's jaw hung open while Macaque slow-clapped. Red Son's parents were silent but were definitely amused. It was a miracle Red Son didn't explode right then and there.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow through the windows, the excitement in the kitchen died down. After eating cake and the noodles Pigsy made, People started gathering their things, with goodbyes already beginning.

"Alright, MK." Pigsy grunted gruffly. "Are you ready to head back?"

"Actually…" MK looked up from where he’d been helping Mo balance on Mei’s head. His tail swayed nervously behind him. "I think I’m staying."

"You what now?" Pigsy lifted a brow. 

"I mean, I’m still reading up on this whole courtnapping thing, and it’s definitely a bit weird. But technically, I did say I wanted to stay last night, and… That still counts, right?"

Red Son looked at him, eyes wide, caught somewhere between stunned and absolutely smitten. This bozo.

"So yeah." MK grinned, lifting his chin proudly. "I'm staying, at least for a little while."

"Only if you're willing…" Red Son cleared his throat, trying to contain the fire threatening to rise to his hair.

"You better send updates! Mei whistled one last time from the doorway. "I expect daily reports!"

"Count on it!" MK gave her a thumbs up.

"Ugh, fine, kid." Pigsy shook his head, but hugged MK regardless. "Holding back deliveries for a while isn't the end of the world. Behave, will ya?"

As the rest of the group filtered out with hugs, goodbyes, and a few more pictures, MK and Red Son lingered by the door, standing side-by-side.

"So…" MK nudged him with his shoulder. "What now?"

"Whatever you want, that's the deal." Red Son gave him a small smile. 

"Whatever I want, huh?" MK raised an eyebrow, his grin widening mischievously.

"Correct." Red Son shot him a side-eye, unable to suppress a chuckle. "I might end up changing my mind with that look on your face."

"Right, right…" MK clicked his claws together. "But seriously. I mean it's about staying for a while. And this… Well, it’s actually kinda nice. I've always wondered what it would be like to have an actual house instead of a crummy apartment."

"I’m glad." Red Son looked at him. "You deserve it."

"So, you sure you can handle me for a while?" MK scrunched his nose, snickering.

"I’ve been handling you for longer than you think."

"I guess so, huh?" MK laughed. 

"But seriously, now what?"

"Heh." MK leaned in with a glint in his eye. "Well, we've got the whole place to ourselves."

"You’re not that forward, are you?" Red Son raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. 

"What can I say?" MK shrugged. "You’re the one who courtnapped me."

"I guess I did, didn’t I?" Red Son rolled his eyes.

"And you’re surely not regretting it yet?" MK asked, a little shyer for once.

"Not even for a second." Red Son gave him a small, fond smile, his heart beating a little faster. 

MK glanced at the window, where golden sunlight had started to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. 

"Huh… It’s already late afternoon, almost night."

"So it is." Red Son followed his gaze, noting the soft orange light pooling on the dark tile and stone floor. "Feels like this day lasted a week."

MK stretched his arms above his head, yawning. 

"Man, I’m wiped. Today was crazy!" MK chirped. Followed by a yawn. "What do courtnapped peeps do, anyways?"

"Lounge around and be pampered."

"Oh, cool, cool." MK’s tail flicked behind him. "That sounds even better." He leaned his shoulder against Red Son’s again. "And hey, thanks for sticking up for me. That meant a lot."

"You’re welcome." Red Son looked at him, something soft in his expression. "And thank you for staying. A part of me was convinced you wouldn't like this."

"Are you kidding me?" MK squeaked. "This is, like, my next vacation! I don't have to do noodle deliveries and I get to do whatever I want!"

"You keep dodging my question." Red Son shot him a flat look, lips twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "What do you want to do, MK?"

"Right, riiiight. Alrighty, seriously this time." MK blinked at him, then grinned like he’d been caught red-handed. "Hmm… I could just say that I wanna be with you but that feels like cheating."

"Because it’s disgustingly sweet?"

"No, because it’s true and I’m trying to give you an actual answer." MK shot back, sticking out his tongue. "I dunno. Maybe you could properly show me around?"

"I suppose I can do that."

"But remember," MK said, softer now, nudging Red Son’s arm, "I want to do whatever you want to do, too. We’ve got time now, right?"

"…Right." Red Son sighed. "We’ve got time. I'll show you around, then."

"So you’ve seen the essentials." He said, taking MK's hand and guiding him down the hallway. "Living area, kitchen, dining room, bathing chamber, and the sleeping quarters. But here’s what you haven’t seen." 

Red Son swung open a tall, ornate door. MK’s jaw dropped slightly. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with ancient tomes, blueprints, scrolls, and even a few comics tucked in among the serious stuff. 

"Whoa." MK said.

They moved on, and Red Son proudly presented the indoor garden, lush with rare flora that shimmered faintly under the fading sunlight. Then, the next stop was a mini-dojo complete with sparring dummies, training weapons, and mats. MK was thrilled when they reached the art section, immediately zeroing in on the stocked easels, paints, and a surprisingly large cabinet full of sketchbooks. They passed a tea room with incense burners, a workshop, and even a small observatory built on the side that overlooked the desert. Finally, they reached a plain-looking door. 

"This one’s empty." Red Son opened it up, and sure enough, it was empty. "Just in case a guest wanted something else I didn’t account for."

"Hmm..." MK peeked inside at the blank space and grinned. "OH! Let’s turn it into a music room! You did courtnap a songwriter, after all. Whatever shall I do without my beloved instruments?"

"Ah, you’re right." Red Son nodded, adjusting his glasses. "I’ll start gathering supplies immediately."

He turned on his heel, but didn’t get far before MK grabbed his sleeve with both hands.

"Wait, nooo, don’t leave yet!" MK whined, tugging him back with more force than necessary.

"What?" Red Son stumbled a step, startled. "But you just said-"

"I know what I said, but I meant tomorrow. You can get everything later. Right now…" He looked up with a sly smile, inching a bit closer. "You’re not going anywhere."

Red Son blinked, cheeks warming as MK rested his hands on his shoulders.

"You’re being clingy."

"I’m allowed, aren't I?" MK purred shamelessly. "You yoinked me, I’m your problem now."

"Technically, I’m allowed to come and go." Red Son exhaled sharply through his nose, suppressing a smile. "You’re the one that has to stay inside the shelter."

"Ugh. Rules."

"Ancient custom, it is what it is." Red Son corrected, smugly. "But if it comforts you, I’ll stay."

Suddenly, MK spun Red Son around before leaping onto the fire demon's back. He latched onto his long sleeve jacket effortlessly, like he's done this before. His legs wrapped around his waist, arms looped around his shoulders, and chin tucked snugly into the side of his neck. Red Son nearly choked on air.

"Noodle Boy! What are you… Oh. Right, monkeys do this" Red Son stiffened for a second before relaxing and bracing MK’s thighs to keep him steady.

"Onward, noble steed!" MK declared, pointing dramatically down the hall. "To the bedroom!"

"This is supposed to be the Dragon Horse Girl's job." Red Son grumbled, already marching in the direction of said bedroom while mentally begging his internal temperature to stay down. The last thing he needed was to accidentally scorch MK’s fur.

"You're a bull, that's not too far from a horse if you ask me." MK snorted a laugh and nuzzled the side of Red Son’s head. 

Red Son reached the bedroom door and opened it with his foot, letting it swing open before stepping inside. It was dark, save for some low lantern lights, much darker after closing the door behind them. Only once he was close enough to the bed did he carefully lean forward so MK could flop off, flipping off with a roll and landing on his back before smugly grinning.

"I was kind of expecting a rodeo when I hopped on. Gotta say, I'm a little disappointed you didn’t buck or snort or anything." MK said with an exaggerated shrug, then tilted his head toward Red Son with a devilish look. "Unless you’re saying you could be wild if you wanted."

"Hey!" Red Son narrowed his eyes, stepping just a little closer to the bed. "I can be wild!"

"Yeah, right." MK’s grin widened, catching the fire demon’s sleeve with his tail and giving it a tug. "Then prove it."

Red Son froze. He knew that tone. That scheming little simian knew exactly what he was doing. Red Son glanced at the door as if considering escape, then huffed through his nose and slowly placed his glasses on the nightstand.

"Fine." He said, stepping around to the edge of the bed. "But you asked for this."

MK perked and sat up. But before the monkey could talk back, Red Son scraped a foot against the ground before charging forward and tackling the monkey back down into the mattress, straddling him with a burst of heat that flared from his hair.

"AH!" MK wheezed in surprise, laughing breathlessly. "Point made!"

"Next time you compare me to a horse, you will get bucked off."

MK’s tail curled pleasantly as he looked up at Red Son, lips curled in that mischievous little toothy grin that always made the fire demon’s core temperature spike.

"Oh nooo, I’m trapped!" MK cried with a voice chock full of false despair, but his hands slid up slowly, with one resting against Red Son’s hip while the other came to lightly hook around the back of his neck.

"You’re not exactly struggling." Red Son snickered.

"I could…" MK teased, tugging him a little closer, "But why would I, when I’ve got you right where I want you?"

Red Son didn’t even get a chance to come up with a reply before MK leaned up and kissed him. MK's hands held him in place, gently, with his claws, snagging in the jacket fabric. For once, Red Son didn’t burn up. He felt a low, molten heat curling in his chest, blooming outward as he leaned into the kiss with a quiet sigh against MK’s mouth.

When they finally pulled apart, MK’s eyes were still half-lidded as a drowsy smile spread across his face.

"…Still not letting you leave." He purred.

Red Son chuckled under his breath as he let his weight rest more comfortably atop MK, bracing himself with an arm on either side of the monkey’s head.

"Didn’t say I was going anywhere." 

"Wonderful." MK stretched beneath him with a pleased little hum, his tail curling up to loop tightly around Red Son’s waist. "This is comfy."

"That much is obvious." Red Son smirked, reaching up to push MK’s long bangs away from his face. "You always treat people like furniture."

"Only the ones I like." MK cooed, shamelessly with a wink. "And you’re, like, top-tier furniture. Royal, even."

"Great, lucky me." But he couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few things." MK tapped a finger to his own lips in a thoughtful manner. "You could feed me, make me tea, listen to me rant about the latest episode of Monkey Cop… Maybe kiss me a few more times?"

Red Son huffed, but he definitely didn’t protest. Instead, he leaned down, pressing his forehead to MK’s. Without another word, Red Son tilted forward and captured MK’s lips in another kiss, and entirely without the flustered hesitation he’d had last night. If MK wanted affection, then fine, he’d give it all he had.

MK made a muffled sound of surprise, then melted beneath him like wax under flame, digging his claws in the long red hair as if he’d been waiting all day for this moment. Red Son’s fingers found the curve of MK’s jaw, thumb brushing gently beneath it and through thick fur. He didn’t rush, nor pull away. Just stayed there as long as possible, feeling MK’s tail coil ever so tighter around his atomach as he began purring, sending deep vibrations throughout his chest. When they finally parted, it was only by a breath.

"That was a bit more than a few times." Red Son breathlessly chuckled.

"Yeah." MK blinked up at him, dazed but grinning like an idiot. "That’s what I was hoping for."

MK’s grin only grew more mischievous. He hooked a leg around Red Son’s hip and rolled them, flipping them both over with until he was straddling Red Son again, just like the night before. Red Son let out a surprised noise, hands finding MK’s waist as the monkey demon settled on top of him.

"How lovely." Red Son rolled his eyes. "This again."

"Mhmm, this exactly again." MK snickered, bracing his hands on Red Son’s chest. "I don’t see you stopping me."

"That’s because I’m still trying to figure out how you keep catching me off guard." 

"Monkey reflexes or something." MK declared proudly with a wag of his tail. "I like being close to you."

"You’re lucky I like it too."

MK’s eyes sparkled at the confession. He shifted slightly, still perched on Red Son’s hips, but his hands slid up from the fire demon's chest to rest lightly on his shoulders.

"I'm glad you're finally relaxing." MK said quietly, his thumb brushing the side of Red Son’s throat. "You’ve been doing a lot of apologizing, planning, stressing out… I thought maybe I could give you a break."

"Uh-huh." Red Son mumbled. "A break… While you sit on top of me?"

"Exactly." 

MK leaned down with a teasing smile and pressed a kiss to the corner of Red’s mouth, then the other side, before finally kissing him properly. Red Son didn’t even try to argue. He let his eyes slip shut, letting MK guide the pace. His claws lightly skimmed the fabric of Red Son’s jacket again. His fingers moved slowly, carefully, to the clasps on the seams.

"Let me help with this." He said, almost a whisper.

Red Son didn’t resist, he lifted his shoulders slightly as MK slipped the jacket off, careful not to tug too hard or jostle him. The moment the heavy fabric was gone, leaving nothing but a tank top and bare arms behind, it was easier to breathe. He grew a bit nervous, thinking that MK might try something again, but he didn’t reach to pull off anything else. Instead, MK curled his fingers around Red Son’s wrists and gently pinned them to the bed above his head, leaning down with a sly smile.

"Don't worry, I remember." MK purred. 

Red Son let out a slow breath, feeling the tension melting from his shoulders as he relaxed beneath MK, letting himself smile. 

"Thank you, MK." He whispered, relieved. "Because I’m still not ready, probably not for a while… But I am enjoying this."

"Honestly, same." MK nuzzled their noses together. 

MK grinned, his dangerous, sharp canines catching the low lantern light as he shifted just enough to stretch out to his full height on top of Red Son, putting his full weight down. He stayed propped on his elbows, tail flicking side-to-side. They laid like that a while longer, tangled up in warmth and banter without a need to go any further. MK eventually curled closer, resting his cheek against Red Son’s chest, ear pressed to where his heart was beating like the rhythm of a song.

"You’re not so bad at this whole love thing." MK chittered sleepily. 

"Neither are you." Red Son sifled his fingers through MK’s fur. "Honestly, I haven't kicked you off of me because of how creative you are with this stuff. I would've never guessed by just looking at you."

"You know… I tried everything to get your attention, but none of it worked." MK tilted his head just enough to look at him, his eyes half-lidded with drowsy amusement. "All I had to do was write a song with you, who would've guessed."

"I think you're right about it being a love song."

"That’s it, then." MK yawned, settling back against his chest with a satisfied sigh. "Next time I fall for someone, I’m going straight to duets."

"There won’t be a next time." Red Son sighed, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Good answer." MK grinned against his chest.

They stayed like that, with MK still on top, ear pressed close to Red Son’s heartbeat. The steady rhythm lulled them both, and before long, their breaths evened out, slow, peaceful, and completely in sync. Everything was exactly where it needed to be.

A song doesn't have to be perfect, and neither do they. In fact, nothing ever is, and that's what keeps things interesting. Everyone just needs a little spark.

Chapter Text

Over the past month, the world outside the fortress had vanished. Since that fateful night of the festival, since Red Son had courtnapped MK and gotten their families approval, the two hadn’t stepped foot beyond the walls of their little room, and they hadn’t needed to. The large wing of the fortress became its own little world. With all the quiet mornings, midday activities with laughter that echoed down long halls, and long evenings filled with soft touches and lingering glances.

The music room had been built within days. It was soundproofed, with shelves and cases for instruments, a rack of sheet music, and empty books for writing. MK had declared it his new favorite room before immediately dragging Red Son into testing every instrument. Sometimes they worked on actual music. Most of the time, it turned into MK banging on drums or blasting on a horn while Red Son was finally able to read sheet music and tried to play along to whatever devious melody MK made up.

Red Son had also brought MK instruments the monkey had never touched before. While he learned to play them, the fire demon indulge himself in writing poetry or building things in the little workshop nearby. They had their alone time every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always welcomed each other no matter what. They didn’t always share the same interests, but they did share snacks, space, and an ungodly amount of kisses between their work.

As was tradition, Red Son spent those weeks pampering his courtnapped companion with lavish meals, warm scented baths, meticulous fur-brushing, and lavish gifts. MK, of course, had protested at first, claiming he could handle things on his own. But then Red Son learned he could get MK to melt with massages and specialty shampoos made for fur, and the monkey never protested again, accepting each new offering with sparkling eyes.

MK also wanted his partner to be comfortable as well and gave just as much in return. He groomed Red Son’s long hair while sitting on his lap, organized surprise noodle or dessert nights, and occasionally climbed him like a tree just to make him smile. He had time to clean his messes, something he couldn't really do back home. With all this free time, he could indulge himself with more than just his hobbies. Red Son secretly cleaned his apartment and couldn't wait to see his reaction when the time came.

And, of course, MK had his ways of giving back through… Other ways. Because, gods and heavens above, the nights…

Red Son had expected awkwardness. He had expected clumsy stammering and maybe some shy hand holding after the initial spark of the first days. Instead, MK had turned out to be bold no matter what. He was far more assertive than his clumsy hero persona let on. When the sun went down and the lights were dimmed, MK took the lead with such confidence that made Red Son’s knees weak. The simian was gentle, teasing, and incredibly affectionate. He knew exactly what he wanted, and it was always Red Son.

Some nights were soft, with whispered jokes that ended with MK curled up on his chest, purring until the break of dawn. Other nights were heated, with mischief and breathless laughter that got muffled into pillows and fur. There had been boundaries that had never once been challenged and trust within each other. Whatever pace they moved at, they made sure it was together. Every night was a shared one, it didn't matter that they hadn't gone the extra mile yet.

Today was special. It marked exactly one month since the night of the music festival. An entire month since that perfect, chaotic, life-changing performance, and a whole month of being together uninterrupted. But even paradise eventually invites curiosity.

"I can't wait to leave for the day, I think I forgot what wind feels like!" MK chirped that morning as he laid across Red Son’s lap, smiling like a doofus.

"We’ve got windows, you know." Red Son rolled his eyes, setting aside the notebook he'd been writing in.

"I can't open them, they're all sealed shut." 

"We're supposed to get out at noon, but we can leave right now, happy?"

"Yes!"

And so, after a few final snuggles, some stretching, and one last shared cup of tea, the couple stood at the threshold of their chamber as the massive doors unlocked and opened, ready to step out together. The moment Red Son looked out past the doors, they were greeted not by fanfare or bull clones, but something far more suspicious.

A simple, colorful box sitting right in the middle of the corridor, neatly wrapped in red and gold paper. 

"Did you order something?" MK peeked over Red Son’s shoulder.

"No." Red Son narrowed his eyes. "This place doesn't have an address."

"That… Wasn’t there last night, right?" MK flicked his tail. "I'm not the one obsessed with security cameras, that's your job."

"Correct, it wasn't there yesterday." Red Son lifted a brow. "It sparkles, I don’t trust it."

A neatly folded note was attached to the top, sealed with a wax stamp. MK snatched it up eagerly and tore it apart.

"Wanna bet this is Mei’s fault?"

"Absolutely not, I’d lose that bet, it's definitely her doing." Red Son shook his head vigorously.

The note read:

"To the Happy Couple~

Since you’ve been locked in there like lovesick teenagers, we decided to spice things up. You both need a breath of fresh air, and a little challenge.

Enclosed are instructions for a scavenger hunt prepared by your lovely families and friends. You must stay together at all times. Each of us has hidden a piece of a treasure map you’ll need to find your final destination. No cheating, no magic shortcuts, and definitely no teleporting. You’ll be watched!

We’ve each prepared a trial. Complete them together and get your map piece. And when you find the final location, go have fun! It's a very special place that only Monkey King and Macaque know of. 

Good luck!

Love, Everyone!

P.S. This event was written, organized, and sponsored by Mei."

They exchanged looks.

"Wow, it really was Mei's idea." MK giggled into his palm.

"I knew this fortress was too quiet this morning." Red Son sighed. "Those meddlesome third wheels."

"Sounds pretty fun, actually, wanna give it a try for our first day out?" MK beamed.

"Ugh, fine, otherwise Mei would hunt us down." Red Son growled, but even he couldn’t hide the tiny smile that lifted the corners on his lips.

After reading through the note and where each one takes place, leaving not a hint of what each trial could be, they stepped into the outside world together for the first time in weeks, hand in hand, ready for the scavenger hunt.

♡~♡~♡

Pigsy stood tall in his apron like a judge at a cooking competition set in the noodle shop. His face was stern with a no-nonsense attitude, and he held a cleaver in one hoof.

"Alright you two, welcome to the battlefield!" he announced gruffly. "No powers, and no shortcuts. You're going to make my signature noodles from scratch. Yes, that includes the broth."

"Cooking?" Red Son snorted. "This is a trial?"

"Respect the art!" Pigsy barked, slamming his cleaver into a cutting board for emphasis.

They got started. MK sprinted across the rooftop garden, plucking freshly grown herbs from pots while Red Son carefully began chopping veggies and whatever herbs MK had fetched. The monkey was much more confident, he's made this dish before. But even so, he was shaky and filled with nerves. His noodle stretching and spice tossing method was reckless at best, and Red Son nearly set the water on fire three times.

By the end, their hands were covered in flour. The pot simmered with suspiciously unbalanced seasoning, and Pigsy was simultaneously shaking his head and grinning as he slurped the noodles from a bowl.

"Taste’s wrong…" He sighed, handing them the first piece of the map from under the soup bowl lid. "But your teamwork gets a passing grade."

When they were handed the first map piece, They realized it was blank. Still, they kept on.

♡~♡~♡

"Welcome, welcome!" Tang greeted them as they stepped in the confines of a private library, draped in robes and flanked by several thick books. "Today, we celebrate literature through… Roleplay!"

"...Oh no " Red Son said as Tang tossed them costumes. "Oh gods, no-"

"Both of you must recall a story from Journey to the West, however, MK will play the villain while Red Son will be the hero!"

"Nooooooo!" Red Son groaned loudly.

MK laughed and helped dress Red Son in a monkey tail, a phoenix feather crown, and faux tiger skin. Red Son begrudgingly helped MK into horns and hooves stilts.

They decided on the battle between Monkey King and DBK. MK stood atop a cardboard rock with hands on his hip.

"You dare impersonate my wife, you ungrateful simian? And I once called you brother!" MK did his best to impersonate DBK's menacing, deep voice, purposely trying to make Red Son laugh.

Red Son took a deep breath, and with one final glare at Tang, he cleared his throat and began.

"Uhh… You… Arrogant bovine, your son has gone wild and threatens my master. Prepare to be vanquished!"

It turned out to be fairly fun. They used hollow cardboard weapons to playfully beat the crap out of each other, carefully avoiding knocking over any shelves stocked to the brim with books. Just like how the story went, Red Son smacked MK with his fake staff, and Mk collapsed on the ground.

"Ahh! Did my head get cut off? Woe is me!" MK cried, sticking his tongue out.

"That's what you get for challenging me!" Red Son tried not to laugh at MK's terrible impression of his father. It wants Monkey King to cut his head off, but, hey, whatever.

They are interrupted by clapping and whistles from the corner of the room. Tang was smiling like a madman.

"Truly breathtaking, five stars!" The scholar cheered, standing up. "Well, I'll be going now, I don't want to miss the lunch rush at Pigsy's noodles! Farewell!" 

Tang turned and trotted out the door, but not before tossing a piece of paper behind, letting it flutter to the ground. The second map piece was theirs.

♡~♡~♡

The lake in the forest was shimmering in the late morning sunlight. Sandy waited in a full meditation position with crossed legs and closed eyes. Mo rested on his head, purring and meowing as Red Son and MK appeared from the treeline.

"Build a sand mandala." Sandy said without opening his eyes. "But not too fast, take your time and relax."

MK and Red Son looked at each other. Then at the sand. Then back at each other.

Thirty minutes in, MK was humming while forming symbols in wet sand. Red Son meticulously arranged swirling patterns. They bickered once when MK tried to draw a doodle of himself wielding a sword, getting sidetracked.

"I swear to the gods, MK if you don't focus-"

"Zen, babe." MK cooed. "Just relax!"

They re-did it twice. The third version was actually quite beautiful.

"Very nice." Sandy nodded, finally opening his eyes to inspect their work. "You're learning to work together. Now, go on and dig in the center of the mandala…"

They did as told, and they were shocked to find the third piece buried in the sand. How had Sandy known they would center it here?

♡~♡~♡

They were summoned to a wide, scorched training arena near the outer edges of DBK’s old training grounds in the desert near the fortress. It was an intimidating sight with molten rocks and glowing red runes lining the walls. DBK stood waiting, arms crossed and horns gleaming in the light.

"You’re not here to win." He began, not bothering with greetings "You’re here to endure."

"That's so reassuring." MK whispered nervously, in Red Son's ear.

"You’ll each wear a strength-dampening cuff. No powers, just brawn. Complete my gauntlet together by pulling weights, climbing walls, and pushing against each other if you must." He pointed at a monstrous boulder. "It'll move, but if you're working together. Whatever happens, do not allow the boulder to fall in the lava. Bring it to the top of this hill, and I shall relinquish my main piece."

Red Son had been through this training before once his father had been freed from his imprisonment and guided MK. Every now and then, they had to swing each other across platforms, drag chains, and use their combined strength to lift the heavy boulder a single foot into the air over a ledge. Halfway through, MK slipped, and Red Son caught him with one arm before throwing him back onto his feet.

By the end, they were soaked in sweat and dust. Ash clung to their faces and they sat next to each other in a breathless heap with sore muscles, but the boulder had moved.

"Not bad…" DBK gave the duo an approving grunt. "For a pair of knuckleheads."

The massive bull smashed the boulder in half and handed them the fourth map piece that was inside, along with two water bottles and a bar of soap before pointing them to the showers.

♡~♡~♡

"You’re late." PIF said with a cold grin, waiting inside their family's grand ballroom as classical music played from somewhere. "This is a test of elegance, control, and mutual trust. You must dance."

"Dance?" MK stared in horror. 

"Oh, you’re doomed, Noodle Boy." Red Son elbowed him. "Don't worry, I'll teach you."

Red Son led the dance, he was taught by the very woman examining them, after all. Each step had to be matched with precision, or else a blast of wind would knock them off balance. Red Son was graceful, while MK was stiff. But somehow, with his directions, MK learned. They met in the middle, laughing and tripping, catching each other if they stumbled.

Red Son dipped MK at one point. The mischievous monkey retaliated with a sweeping spin that left the half-bull breathless. When the music ended, they were panting and tangled in each other’s arms, laughing. 

"Good," PIF slowly clapped before brushing dust off Red Son’s collar and whispering, "Next time, lead with your left, dear."

A gust of wind carried a piece of paper to the couple. They had the fifth piece, only three more were left.

♡~♡~♡

They arrived at Mei’s estate near the garden and koi ponds. Mei stood proudly in front of a freshly constructed giant inflatable obstacle course shaped like a long dragon. It glittered obnoxiously in the sun, whose idea was it to add shine to this thing? Loud music blasted from nearby speakers. And Mei had to yell over it.

"Welcome to Dragon Deathrun!" She shouted, striking a glamorous pose. "One of you has to run the course blindfolded, and the other has to guide them through it. No flying, no fire, literally just no cheating, got it?"

MK and Red Son exchanged a long stare.

"…You guide?" MK suggested. "I got the best scenes."

"Very well." Red Son groaned. 

After being blinded, MK fumbled his way through a maze of spring-loaded punching fists, foam pit traps, and a rotating spinner that knocked him over twice, but his partner never once let him fall or get hurt.

"LEFT, no, MY left!" Red Son directed. "Jump! Wait, no, duck!"

By the end, they emerged from the dragon’s mouth covered in glitter.

"We know you planned all of this." Red Son grumbled, spitting out sparkles while ripping off MK's blindfold.

"I organized it, but it was actually Monkey King's suggestion!" Mei cackled and handed over the sixth map piece with zero remorse before holding up her phone. "I regret nothing. Now, go on kiss or something, I need to immortalize this moment."

♡~♡~♡

They were led next to a quiet, misty bamboo grove tucked within a shadowed valley within Flower Fruit Mountain near the beach. It was eerily still, until Macaque stepped from the fog.

"This one’s serious," He said, "You’ve passed flashy, fun trials. Now I want you to challenge your understanding and patience."

The two remained silent, listening intently. They've come this far, and they weren't about to back out.

"You’ll each share a bad memory you haven’t fully processed. Once you decide on which one to share, you must talk to each other about it. Only then do you get your new map piece. Are you willing to trust each other in that way, or will you fight each other?"

MK’s tail flicked behind him, anxious and unsure. Red Son’s jaw was tight, but he nodded. Macaque gestured toward a pair of mossy stones beneath a swaying plum tree, then vanished into the mist, giving them space.

They sat facing each other. For a while, neither spoke. Well, this day sure took a turn. MK rubbed his palms against his thighs, then broke the silence first. 

"I’ve thought about it a lot... The Pillar of Creation."

Red Son turned to him. Right, he wasn't there that day. He's only heard snippets of what happened, mostly from Mei or MK himself.

"I didn't care about being a hero. I just wanted to save my family, really. I thought it was brave…" MK inhaled slowly with a whimper. "I was terrified. Not of dying, but of how I felt in the moment. I didn’t want to die, but… I thought I had to, like it was the only way to stop everything. I thought I was supposed to sacrifice myself and there was no other way. And for a second, I accepted it. I hate how that felt."

Red Son’s eyes didn’t leave him, even when MK looked away with tears welling up in his glittering eyes.

"I still have constant nightmares. Sometimes I wake up thinking I'm back there all over again."

"You shouldn’t have had to make that choice." Red Son said quietly, grabbing MK's hand. "And I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you then, Mei's ridiculous puppy videos didnt compute in my brain that you guys needed help."

MK offered a small, grateful smile with a soft giggled at the joke as Red Son whined away a few tears that fell.

"Okay," Red Son took a breath, "My turn."

His hand retreated, leaving MK wondering what the fire demon could possibly be hiding.

"I… Believe that I have an inferiority complex. I didn’t always realize it, but I'm sure that I do. I get jealous easily, I see others doing great things and I get this sick feeling that I’m not good enough to be in the high position I was born into."

He paused.

"When we first met, I was furious. Not just because you ruined my plans, but because you beat me. Some random delivery boy-" He spat and shot MK a dry look "Was stronger than me. I trained for years, studied under the best tutors, mastered my flames… And you just happened to have this natural gift that let you outshine me at every turn."

MK blinked, surprised by the confession. He hadn't even thought for a second that Red Son might feel this way.

"But now…" Red Son’s voice softened after seeing MK's disheartened expression. "Now I’m grateful. It doesn't mean that I'm weak because you're stronger than me. I know you’ll use it to protect what matters, including me by proxy. The people that most deserve power are the ones that dont want it. That's you, MK."

MK looked at him with wide eyes, then reached out and curled his fingers around Red Son’s hand.

"I’ve never been jealous of you." MK whispered with a purr. "But I'm always in awe, you're capable of things that I can't even imagine doing. You're stronger than me in so many different ways, and I'm glad."

After a brief silence, they both hugged each other, holding their embrace. Eventually, The fog parted, and Macaque reappeared with a surprisingly docile smile, holding the next piece of the map between two claws.

"Well done." He said. "You didn't fight, and you were sincere. I'm sure the two of you could get through anything together."

They both stood and accepted the piece, MK still holding Red Son’s hand.

"You’ve got one trial left." Macaque said, his smile now laced with playful dread. "Good luck, the two of you are heading into the King's territory now."

They didn’t have to ask who he meant. Macaque smirked and vanished again into the fog with a final wave of his long tail.

♡~♡~♡

The sun hung in the sky by the time MK and Red Son reached the final checkpoint. High on a ridge overlooking the jungle canopy of Flower Fruit Mountain, the trees thinned into a rocky plateau. Waiting on the edge, meditating on a boulder, was Monkey King. Unlike Sandy, he broke his peaceful meditation when the two arrived, too excited to keep his mind empty.

"About time!" Wukong jumped up with excitement. "I was wondering how long it’d take you two lovebirds to get here!"

Red Son gave him a dangerous glare that could ignite the entire forest while MK rolled his eyes. Wukong hopped down and, with a flourish, held out the final piece of the map. 

"Congratulations! You made it to the end."

"Wait… That’s it?" MK's jaw dropped. "No challenge?"

"Yeah…" Red Son narrowed his eyes. "There’s no way this is just given to us."

"Oh, don't you worry about that." Wukong chuckled and waved the final piece before placing it in his successor's hand with a wink. "Deciphering it together is the challenge. All of this was my idea, Mei helped, but this was mostly my doing. I figured if you two were gonna sneak off together for a month, you might as well earn a happy ending."

"My parents are right, you’re infuriating." Red Son hissed at the ginger-gold monkey.

"So I've been told." Wukong smirked and stepped back. "Good luck solving it! Bye, now!"

Before they could ask what that meant, the Great Sage jumped off the cliff and vanished, leaving not a single strand of fur behind.

MK and Red Son exchanged a look.

"So much for a first day out." Red Son sighed.

They put together the blank pieces into one complete map. After studying it, they realized what it was and groaned. The parchment shimmered faintly with ink and overlapping sketches of Flower Fruit Mountain. But now that it was whole, it didn’t just show a path… It moved. Trails twisted like vines, vanishing and reappearing. Certain landmarks only lit up when you tilted the page at odd angles. At least one side had a crazy brain-melting optical illusion. Somewhere beneath all that was a route and an X that marked the final destination… Maybe? Or was that a trick of the sun?

"Of course." Red Son ran a hand down his face. "He made a magical puzzle."

"Of course he did." MK snickered. "It's a pretty cool idea for a final challenge, though."

"I loathe how much I agree with that." Red Son mumbled out the corner of his mouth.

"C’mon, let's solve this mystery once and for all!" MK smiled and tucked the map close to his chest. 

And they went off to look for the final location.

♡~♡~♡

It took several hours to decipher the map. By the time the sun dipped lower, MK and Red Son finally found a narrow crack in the earth, hidden beneath tangled roots and moss at the base of the mountain deep within the thickest part of the jungle.

It took another hour to traverse the winding tunnels. Intense magic pulsed in the air like a heartbeat. Red Son kept his flames dimmed as they walked through pitch darkness. MK moved like he knew where to go, even if he's never been there before. The fire demon resorted to silently trusting on MK to lead them deeper.

Finally, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. They pressed through one last veil of vines, and the world opened. The cavern was colossal, like the inside of the mountain had been carved out. The hollow glowed with the remnants of the afternoon sun. Bold beams shimmered from hidden holes. A stream wound through the center, its water so clear it mirrored the light above, appearing in an ethereal golden glow. The flora here was strange as it was stunning.

"I think I know this place!" MK gasped, voice hushed in awe. "The Heart of the Mountain…"

"I've heard legends when I was younger." Red Son looked around, wide-eyed. "It’s… Incredible."

"Monkey King told me about it once, he said he’d show me on a very special day. I thought he was joking, I didn’t even know it was real."

"He trusted you with this place."

"No, he’s trusted both of us." MK purred, glancing back at him.

Near the stream, a familiar box sat wrapped in red and gold. MK hurried forward and knelt to open in. Inside were two fresh, steaming containers of their favorite noodle dishes from Pigsy, snacks from Tang, tea blends from Sandy, a picnic blanket, and a small folded note from Mei.

"I might’ve lied when I said only Monkey King and Macaque knew of this place. It was true when I wrote the first note! If this place doesn’t make you fall deeper in love, I don’t know what will. We went to check this place the day before, I know you'll love it! Take plenty of pictures!"

With a laugh, MK unfolded the blanket and set it up near the water’s edge. They sat together, cross-legged, shoulder-to-shoulder. MK offered Red Son a bite of his noodles, and Red returned the gesture. They talked, they laughed, they leaned into one another. And for the first time in a long while, there was no pressure to save the world, there were no songs to write, and no more trials to run through. It was just the two of them in a place that seemed to beat in time with their hearts.

"Hey." MK plopped back onto the blanket, arms spread wide. "You think there’s a word for this?"

"A word?" Red Son tilted his head. "For what?"

"This feeling." MK smiled, eyes tracing the river. "Being here with you, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be."

Red Son looked at him for a long moment before lying down beside him, folding his hands beneath his head.

"Don't you mean love, Noodle Boy?"

"And I thought you were the poet." MK grinned. "We’re good at that, aren't we, Red?"

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you something. When did you start calling me Red, exactly?"

"Uhh…" MK turned his head toward him, scratching his muzzle as he thought. "You know, I straight up don’t remember. I think I just said it once and when you didn’t get angry, so I kept saying it."

"Tch." Red Son let out a soft huff. "That tracks, knowing you."

"I mean, it suits you. Better than ‘Red Son’ all the time. Feels like a mouth full! Besides, you're not MY son!"

"Better Than having two letters as my name." 

"Aww, c’mon now, you know you love it!" MK snorted, rolling onto his side and nudging the fire demon's arm. "You’re soft around me, admit it."

"I'm only choosing to be gentle around you, Noodle Boy, don't make me change my mind."

MK laughed, and Red Son rolled his eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"It’s strange." Red Son hummed after a moment. "You started calling me Red and I didn’t mind. I… liked it, actually."

"Really?" MK raised an eyebrow. 

"It made me feel closer to you, I suppose. I wasn’t just some rival or noble heir or villain to be outwitted, but a friend, and now, something much more."

"That’s all I ever wanted." MK purred.

They lay there in peaceful silence for a while longer, the faint shimmer of the cave casting soft reflections on the water and the clearing they sat in. They leaned against a large tree after a while. MK reached over, lacing their fingers together.

"Let’s stay here a little longer." He whispered.

"I don't mind." Red Son gave his hand the gentlest little squeeze. "Well stay as long as you want."

The place was even more beautiful in the dark. Strange, colorful fireflies danced in the air, emerging from the grass. Moonlight filtered through the ceiling, illuminating the area in soft silver. Eventually, Red Son drifted into sleep, lulled by the rush of water and the warm weight of MK's body resting against his side.

And when he started to dream, he recognized where he was at. The garden of ash and soot from so long ago had seemingly flourished since he last dreamt of the place. Where once there was only blackened soil and dry earth, now grew towering trees with leaves like fire, fruits in odd shapes and colors, enormous vines, and new, winding rivers. It was in better shape than before the fire that had once destroyed nearly everything.

The monkeys from before were there too, all full of energy and happy to see him. They bounded over to him with cheeky grins, tugging him toward the trees. Other animals began to appear. Amongst them was a pig with a golden cicada perched between its ears, sleek blue cats slinking through the foliage, and a massive green and white dragon winding through the sky and jungle like a ribbon.

Red Son took it all in with wide eyes, speechless. But something shook the foliage behind him. The monkeys were all chirping at whatever was there, calling to it.

He wasn’t alone here. He snapped his head around, and there stood MK, staring with an awe-struck expression. His gold-speckled eyes were wide with astonishment, staring at Red Son like he'd seen a ghost. Suddenly, MK dropped onto all fours and sprinted toward him. Red Son had just enough time to brace himself before MK pounced and tackled him into the grass, both of them tumbling down a hill and laughing. The animals hooted and chittered around them, amused.

MK curled up beside him when they came to a stop, and Red Son looked up at the endless sky and finally understood. Some dreams don’t end, like a forest, they take root and grow stronger over time.

Like how fire sparks tend to grow.