The Day The World Eclipsed || Lego Monkie Kid

The Slumbering Prince

These toys were for smaller children. He had no means of knowing exactly how old Xiaotian was or if he would even enjoy such trinkets. And from a stranger, no less.

How unfair was this?

He dug the blade's hilt against the wood in his hands, venting his frustrations onto it.

Who had been the one to desire a child? He was!

Who had kept the egg safe on Wukong's foolish escapades and show of power? He was!!

Who carried their egg on his bag for months after their defeat at the Jade Emperor's hands, in terror that he would seek an act of deeper revenge? He did!

Who had been the one to ensure everything was perfect? Him!

Who wanted their family? Who was so happy at the notion of having a family?? Who was willing to give everything up for the sake of their child?!

You both do.

Macaque's hand stilled, lifting his gaze when the intrusive thought rang a truth he wanted to deny. He swallowed thickly, bile threatening in the back of his throat. Physically startled, he jerked his head, chiding himself. These thoughts got him nowhere.

He hung his head, feeling the weight on his chest swelling again. He tried to run from it, but it was always there.

What was he meant to do?

He should have never agreed to stay on this mountain. He was drowning in memories. The scent of Wukong was everywhere. Sometimes, he could hear the echoes of the past.

Wukong called his name so sweetly. Promising him the world.

Macaque had loved him beyond Earth, Heaven, or Hell. Every moment out of Wukong's company was agony; now, it felt like every moment with him was a puncture to his chest. Every trace of Wukong's hands left an imprint that ate down to his soul.

And his eyes- god...  Macaque felt devoured by Wukong's eyes, which dared to look at him like- like he was dying. The nerve of him to even attempt to look like he actually cared. To look happy at his return. 

"...." Macaque stopped his carving, a lump in his throat. Macaque would have killed himself before admitting it to anyone, but... Some small part of him, fragile, weak, and foolish, had been happy to see Wukong too.

The truth was buried deep in his heart.

"Pathetic. Pathetic," he repeated this like an incantation.

Even now- Wukong held him.

It was unfair.

He wasn't going to fall for it again. Even if every fiber of his being screamed for the Sun, he would deny its warmth.

Only his child mattered now. What Wukong held, he would give to his Son instead.

"Alright." He leaned back into the chair, swirling the tea between his fingers. "No more putting it off." If he was going to get through this, he needed to stop running away.

Standing, he took his scarf he laid across the table. Tossing it over his shoulders, he left the mountain.

He will return shortly... After speaking with his Sister.
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"Spit it out." Wukong says simply. When his Son didn't release, he repeated, "Qi, spit. It. Out." He patted his Son's head, his fingers working around his jaw to try and pry his little mouth open. "Drop it." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm a serious young man."

His Son was growling, shaking his head as he held on tight. Held between his teeth was his Father's tail. He pivoted his head when Wukong tried to open his mouth, like a dog with some rope that refused to budge.