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Wukong never understood why some mortals wish for death. But after MK walked into the pillar, he understood. Death is not just of the flesh but of the soul. Wukong has watched countless die; the lives he'd taken in battle, to his old brothers, to the pilgrims. When the soul is not ready, it wails, it screams, it shrieks with begs for mercy, blood dripping from its lips. When it's ready, death is silent. Deep breaths turn into the wind and the world grows cold. And when mk died, there was no sound. There was no fear. No screams. No blood. And the thing that scared Wukong the most was that, when he put himself in the kid's place to die? His soul was also quiet.
Wukong didn't mean to avoid Mk. He couldn't avoid him at all actually. But he couldn't face him. He was there in person. In another form hanging in the back, watching, listening, while the kid talked with his friends. But he couldn't look at him. Not without being reminded of what they'd both almost done.
He was like the kid in a way. That not having anything to do made them antsy. Wukong called off training out of fear for them both. He thought If Mk tried to sacrifice himself again, would Wukong try to stop him? And if Mk in a fight struck him too hard, would Wukong want to get up? Being alone like this had Wukong realizing what it was like to want to die.
Mk picked up more shifts at work despite Pigsy's reluctance. He knew Mk didn't feel like he had any other choice. Mk had complained to Wukong once before he called off training. Said everyone was looking at him like he was a flight risk. Like he was going to die if he wasn't looked after every two seconds. And Wukong doesn't remember, but he probably nodded and said something to the kid about needing freedom and trust to stand on his own again, when he couldn't even trust his own head. He encouraged the kid in public and agreed with Pigsy in private. The kid was a flight risk. He was noble in that way. He'd kill himself again, if he felt it was the only way. Mk could complain about the weight of the world but would never think about putting it down.
There was a knock on his hut after a couple of days. Wukong was just starting to get used to the mountain being quiet. He opened the door to MK and while he didn't look particularly sleep deprived, his hair was messy, shoulders sagged and wasn't looking at him in the face. He twiddled his fingers quietly at his sides and interrupted when Wukong was about to ask him what's up, asking if he could come in. Wukong said of course and Mk sat on the couch next to him, lying back, holding a pillow over his face. And the mountain was quiet for a couple more minutes.
Mk removed the pillow that covered his face and looked Wukong directly in the eyes for the first time since the pillar.
“What are we?”
Wukong blinked in shock for a moment. “Uh, what?”
It was quiet again. Mk turned back to the couch, facing forward, away from his gaze. The pillow is now at his side as he starts to pick the skin around his fingernails.
“You had said, at the pillar. That whatever..” There was a pause in MK's words before he continued, “fate has in store for me, it was for you too because it came from the same stone you were born in.” Mk leaned forward then back again into the couch starting to ramble nervously, “And I know I already have a family who loves me but right now I'm just trying to realize this..” Mk leans forward again, practically rocking back and forth at this point moving his hands in like a juggling motion. “This part of who I am, this specific, monkey part of me and it just has me wondering. Are we like some clone thing or are we related or?” Mk pushes himself back into the couch with a thump. “I don't know ok!” the kid throws his hands up in frustration before slumping back down again, picking at a broken nail. “I've just been thinking. That's all.”
Wukong has nothing in his head at the moment for that answer. He also faces forward and leans back, scratching his head, keeping up the facade of nonchalance. Wukong responds casually, “Well I doubt we're a clone thing bud, considering we already have like. Our own different clones of ourselves and all that.” He paused for the silent nod on Mk's side, “but related? I guess so. At least that's what makes sense for something like this.” Wukong barely has the chance to contemplate on his side before the kid quickly turns to him with a billion questions. “What's Nuwa to you then?” Mk asks, the gears turning in his head. “Do you consider yourself having a family or even parents? Cause I don't get what this like. Family tree might be.”
Wukong physically shied away from the kid's questions not wanting to think about them too hard. “I mean when I was born, I don't remember anyone being there!” Wukong explained, summoning a peach chips bag for him to munch through as he told the story. “I mean I woke up-” there's a crunch as he speaks the next part with his mouth full. “Came up out of a rock, saw some monkeys that looked like me but different. And then I jumped into a waterfall because one of them dared me too.” he shrugs, voice muffled with another crunch of a chip, he finishes his words simply. “I haven't really thought of anything before then.”
But the kid looked at him with wide eyes still. “You don't remember anything? You can't even try a little?” Wukong answered him with nothing, the only sound being a loud crunch of a chip. The kid starts thinking, tapping his finger a couple times on his chin. “So we might not even have the same parents then…”
“Are we like monkey cousins?” Something about the way Mk asked that has Wukong raise his eyebrow in worry. “I don't think so.” Wukong says, thinking himself. “We did come from the same stone so we'd have a lot more in common than cousins do it's almost like-” Wukong hit a big pause, chewing his peach chips much slower, eyes widening. No. Absolutely not. He's been down this road before. He knows how it ends. He gags on a gasp of shock with a peach chip going the wrong way down his throat. He coughs furiously, jolting, trying to hack it up. Mk is there quickly patting his back to get it out. Wukong's eyes squeeze shut with the realization of what they are, unsure if the tears in his eyes are from choking on the chip or emotion. “You okay? You're not choking are you?” Mk's concern is too much for right now and Wukong gets up spitting it out himself.
The mountain is quiet again as Wukong fights to compose himself, forcing out a burp. “Yup.” He says, just peachy. “Just ate a little too fast.” He says with a rasp, blinking back tears. He can feel Mk frowning behind him so he continues the conversation. “Well, we are definitely not monkey cousins." Wukong stops to clear his throat. "We'd actually have to have parents and then ones who are siblings to do that.” Siblings. His mouth is dry and not from the chips.
Mk nods quietly. “Right, right.” It's too quiet for Wukong. It rings in his ears. It's too dark in this room. His eyes hurt from trying to see. His heart thumps in his chest as he brings himself back to the couch, watched intensely by Mk who's there just because he loves him. Wukong forces a smile on despite the heartbeat in his throat. “Is that all you came here for?” He asks, pushing. This conversation can't happen. He won't let it.
MK is hugging the pillow this time when Wukong stops to look at him, and his eyes are cast toward the floor. “I mean yeah.” He answers and despite it being a mumble it's the loudest thing in the room. “I mean it's not like we have training to do or anything.” Wukong sighs having found a way out of this conversation. Right, training. The kid is still hung up on that. Wukong leans back on the couch, his voice nervously high pitched. “I mean it's just for a little while Mk, can't you enjoy the break? It's not like we're gonna stop forever.” He chuckles only having a bit of time before his facade breaks. The word forever is like a burn on his tongue. “Actually,” Wukong pushes himself forward ready to leap away from the couch. “You don't need to waste your time with questions like that and I'm like. Suuuper busy right now so I think you should go.” Wukong gets up with a continuous tap of his foot to keep himself from pacing. He can feel Mk stare deeply at his back, hearing the sound of his pillow scrunching in the boy's embrace. “But you aren't doing anything?” Mk asks. It's feeble, it's weak, and he can't allow the kid to beg.
“Nope I'm totally doing something,” Wukong grabs Mk off the couch with his arm now, physically pushing him towards and out the door. “You just can't see it becauseitstotallynothappeningatallokaybye!” “Wait-” Wukong slams the door in his face with a shudder. MK still had his pillow with him and Wukong doubts he'll get it back. He places a hand on his chest and tries hard to breathe sliding down to the floor back against the door. Wukong makes a new pillow from a hair clone and brings it tight to his chest listening to Mk’s footsteps finally walk away. A warble spooks him out of his panic and he jumps at the sound.
“So you finally figured it out huh?” Wukong takes the pillow he had in his grasp and furiously throws it at Macaque. Macaque's eyes are wide as he dodged the pillow landing on some random thing behind him, it shattering to the floor with a crack. The pillow now dissolved back into hair. “It's not fucking funny Macaque!” He shouts, panic laced through his voice. “He can't know. He can't find out.” The king's heart is racing as he pulls his knees up to his chest. Macaque looks at Wukong and then to the shattered lamp on the floor and then back to him. He blinks. “You can't be fucking serious.”
Wukong sits up too fast, making himself dizzy. “Yes I am, Macaque.” Wukong says trying to ignore the wobble in his legs. “We can't be brothers.” His hands are shaking at his sides. “You know what happened to all my brothers. I-I trapped one under a mountain and the others in an ink scroll and then-then There's you!” Wukong shouts, his hand gesturing wildly to the shadow in front of him.
“Oh and then there's me?”
“Yes!”
Wukong can't keep from pacing now across the room sick to his stomach. “He can't know. Help me hide it from him. Help him stop looking. Please.” If Wukong bothered to look up from his spiral he would see the devastated and disappointed look on Macaque's face before he spoke again.
“You seriously think he doesn't already know?” Wukong feels ready to rip out the rest of his hair. “Are you always here to fucking patronize me?” “No, no. I'm here, everytime you're doing something stupid like pushing people away again.” There's a wobble in Macaque's voice here if Wukong stopped to look but all he hears is accusation. Wukong can't even think of anything to say, letting out a frustrated growl. Macaque shakes his head. “I thought this was just about you being a bad mentor but you-” there's a deep breath that comes from Macaque before he finishes.
“Do you even realize what you're doing?” his voice is sad and it makes Wukong want to punch a wall. His hand is back to his chest. “I’m going to hurt him Macaque. I can’t-” “You think you haven't already fucking done that?!” Macaque stomps over to Wukong's pacing, tired of this game. “Look at me.” He grabs Wukong's arm, a tight bruising hold so that he's forced to look Macaque in the eyes. Macaque's eyes are murderous. “If you do this. If you walk away, if you push, if you keep him, at arms length.” Macaque's claws dig deep in Wukong's forearm. “You will lose him forever. You hear me?” The growl from Macaque's throat comes with a hiss as he drops Wukong's arm from his hold. The king holds his now bruised wrist with his other arm.
He's speechless and Macaque starts again with the guilt Wukong already has pounding in his chest. “You- You watched him die, Wukong. How could-” Macaque takes another breath, his heart throbbing in anger unable to finish his sentence. Wukong shakes his head still wrapped in his own thoughts. “I'm not ready.” The confession is said like a great sin and it only makes Macaque more angry. “Do you think Pigsy was ready, Wukong? To have a child thrust onto him randomly covered in mud? For him now to feed, take care of, to be a parent? No. No, the kid chose him and because of that he had to be ready. You're walking away.” Wukong looks away at the ground. Macaque's words dig into his skin. “The kid chose you. You chose him but it doesn't seem like it right now. I told you. That kid idolizes you. You're not just his hero now, you're his brother, whether you like it or not.” Macaque grabs Wukong by the shoulders fiercely, digging his thumbs into the blades.
“You stay. Or me and the pig will damn well kill you.” He's right. The pig demon already thinks Wukong is a bad influence and if he leaves Mk alone again he'd probably find a way to strip him of his immortalities. He hates the way Macaque is right. But he can't do this. He's already dug himself too deep ready to end his own life for the kid. Wukong speaks up ready to push Macaque away for what he hopes is the final time. “So. We're resorting to threats now?” Wukong chuckles, his voice shaking, and it's a painful thing that Macaque isn't having any of. Macaque shoves him off his hold, hard.
“Fuck you. Fuck you, Sun Wukong.” and with Macaque having the last word, Wukong is left alone in the dark.