Macaque had spent the last few days rectifying the mistakes he had made.
It wasn't perfect, as things seldom were, but the mountain looked better. All the destruction had been removed and disposed of to allow the wildlife to regrow. He had planted new trees and flowers, tidying up the shattered rocks and stones. He wished he hadn't been so speedy about this task because now he needed something to do while he waited for Sun Wukong's return.
How bitterly ironic.
He opted for this, of course, but he was once again waiting for the mighty Monkey King's return.
"What did you say to yourself?" He mumbled, crouched over the wooden floor of Wukong's hut, scrubbing the ground with a sponge. "No, no, Mihou. You won't wait for him anymore. Not a single second more." He grumbled, scrubbing a notably stained spot amongst the wood. "Now look at you. Cleaning this filthy, grime-covered floor like some... some housewife!" He slammed the sponge into the water bucket. Water erupted from the collision and took to the floor. He let it soak against his bare feet, seething, "Did this man clean even ONCE these last 500 years?!" he hiked his pants up, shuffling around the water stain to grab the mop. When he couldn't find a mop, cause, of course, Wukong wouldn't have one, he snagged the broom instead. He swept this house from top to bottom.
Breaking from time to time to make some tea. At least Wukong had that.
"Not even the good stuff," Macaque muttered heatedly, chugging what was probably the 4th cup of the day.
The hut was almost clean. He just needed to deal with their bedroo- no... Wukongs bedroom. He had purposely left that location for last. He tried to keep his focus, ticked off the to-do list, and did his chores.
Then the house would be done, and he wouldn't have anything else to do. He wouldn't be able to put it off anymore.
He had used cleaning as an ...Excuse. An excuse to avoid visiting his sworn Sister.
Lowering the cup in his hands, he gazed out the small window. Despite the years, he felt solace in this old friend of a home. In 500 years, it had hardly aged a day. It still reeked of Wukong and peaches. The wood still creaked under his feet. He still bonked his head against the door frame leading into the living room because it was just a few inches too small.
Perfect for Wukong's height yet not quite matching Macaque's few inches over the King.
His next words left his mouth in an exhale, tight and choppy, "I need to see her." nostalgia of the past drew him more and more to his longing for the familiar. Now, more than ever, he needed someone by his side. But more than that, he missed his Sister dearly.
When he tried to leave to do so, he had made it as far as the couch before he sat down. "Pathetic," he told himself. He was afraid.
What would she think of him if she could see him now? He stared at his own hands.
A broken man, a ghost of himself, with nothing to his name except an abandoned mountain. He rolled his hand into a fist. There was nothing to do but think- which was a dangerous pastime.
He had surrounded himself with what he could of his child. All the belongings were stored in a wooden box he had carved in his free time. It sat at the table, open for him to peer into. It soothed his soul, keeping his mind from wandering too far.
Stabilized, he worked on anything else he could. Pulling out the carving blade he had gotten a few weeks back, Macaque pressed the blade to the wood in his hands, slicing off a sliver of its bark. The sharpness of the blade made the task easy, whittling it away slowly. A plethora of toys lay at his feet. Wooden and hand carved from trains, blocks, and a little wooden dog with a string around its neck Xiaotian could pull around.
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.
—————-
"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.
"Qi Xiaotian," Wukong grumbled. Not that his Son was biting very hard or that his little baby canines could do any damage, but it certainly wasn't a great feeling to have your own Son treat your tail like some chew toy. He lifted his tail, his Son dangling with it like a fish on a hook. "Little man, let go of me...!" He waved his tail around, grabbing Qi's legs to try and pull him off with a good tug. His Son's grip was ruthless.
He thought they were done with the teething! However, no, it seems. His Son's new favorite pastime was treating his tail with such disrespect.
"What do you want, huh??" He demanded. "What trade do you want? Want a cookie? I can give you a cookie- ow ow ow ow!" Wukong tensed when his Son decided to bite down harshly. "Okay, fine! Peaches?? I can give you peaches!"
MK squealed in delight, releasing the tail to run for the kitchen. He bounced, patting the cabinets for Wukong to unlock the "baby lock" on the door. Holding his tail, Wukong frowned at his toddler.
"Yes, yes." He apologized to his poor tail, going to the cabinet. "Honestly, I'm not sure bribing is the right way to get you to not bite, but... Eh." He unlocked the child safety lock, scooching MK back to grab a peach. "Here you go."
MK took it into his hands, licking his lips eagerly. He turned and ran for his little play corner, hoarding his prize away by crawling into the small fort Wukong had made for him. Had lights strewn across it and everything.
Wukong had tried to pull his kid away from the peaches a bit. Not that he outright wanted to deny them, but just get MK to eat other things. That wasn't really going well. I'm getting a taste of my own medicine. Wukong mused to himself. He could never fight the urge for a good peach himself.
Gathering a few strewn-around blankets, he folded them, placing them back into the basket for MK to grab whenever he wanted. Cleaning up the toys next, he recalled never doing such chores. He wasn't exactly the best at doing them when he was younger either- but he especially stopped after returning home for his Journey westward.
There was no point.
Not when he was alone.
Using a washcloth on the sticky table, which was always a mess after every meal, his eyes flickered to the calendar. Eight days, that is how long it had been since he last saw Mihou.
He had taken some days to recover, finding ⅓ of the time for his deadline had almost come and gone.
He couldn't keep putting these things off. He had taken a long time to talk with Sandy, Tang, and Pigsy about this. They all insisted he needed to be the one to make the final decision on it, but each offered what little advice they could.
"Don't put it off. The longer you linger on this, the harder it will be."
"It ain't gonna be easy. It's gonna be messy no matter what. If you want this, though, it'll be worth it."
"Sometimes actions are louder than words. Show you want to listen."
Yes, all words of wisdom in his ears. Things he would be lost without.
He just needed the courage to act on it. He needed to swallow down his urge to hold Mihou. He would need to bury his own selfishness and want for his love- because he had no right to claim such a thing anymore.
No.
Now he needed to make this right. He needed to make sure Qi Xiaotain could be happy. He needed to make sure Liu'er Mihou could be happy. He was going to be better.
At least as good as he could be. His Master, on the day they parted, had assured him he was made for great things. That he could change this world for the better. He wanted to believe in whatever his Master saw in him back then.
To at least leave things in a better state than he found them.
"Dada!" Finished with his peach and doodle, Xiaotian ran to Wukong to offer his picture. Wukong took it, beaming at the sight. He squatted down, grinning. "Is that me?" He asked. MK grinned, leaning against his knee to point. "You have a hat."
"I do!" Wukong ruffled MK's head. "I love it, bud." He tickled MK's side, drawing a giggle from the child. Scooping him right up, he nuzzled their cheeks together. "Now..." He flipped MK into a football hold. "Time for bed~!"
MK gasped and wailed, "Noooooo! I not sleepy~!" The toddler wiggled wildly.
Stumbling into the bedroom, Wukong cackled, tossing MK onto the mattress. His Son flipped to land on his feet, immediately on guard. Both of their legs bent challengingly; Wukong blocked the door so the child couldn't escape.
Lunging for the other, they wrestled, giggling and chirping. It was enough to draw the Tribe's gaze from outside the window, cheering for their young Prince to win!
"Who's side are you on??" Wukong demanded, getting a kick to his face. "Ow...!"
After a few minutes, Wukong lay flat on his face, and Xiaotian jumped on his back. "Win!" His toddler declared! He stomped back and forth, cackling... Before he yawned. The exhale seemed to take the energy clean out of him for a moment, stopping to rub his eyes.
Wukong smiled over his shoulder; his plan had worked perfectly to tucker the kiddo out. "Oooh. I heard that." He says. "Sounds like someone is sleepy."
"No." MK pouted, yawning a second time. "Just... Resting my eyes..."
"Oh, is that so." Wukong rolled them both over, sitting up to cup Qi Xiaotian's face. "Then what is that sound you are making? Sounds like a yawn to me."
"It's my... A battle cry." MK grinned when his Father laughed.
As Wukong laughed, it slowly died away into an exhausted exhale. Sadness laced his voice, and even the toddler took notice.
He peered up at his Father, wondering if his Dada was sick. To test this, he crawled under the bed to lift the foam sword he kept under the mattress. "Dada! Fight!" He smacked it against his Father's skull.
Wukong waved his hand to the side, "Actually, bud, Dada's kind of sleepy tonight." Wukong sat on the edge of the bed, his head lulled forward. "Can we play tomorrow?"
MK stopped, lowering his little foam sword. "Dada, sleepy?" He asked. He dropped the sword, rushing to his Father to hug his knees. "Can we do story time?" He asked instead, grinning.
Wukong had planned to do that from the beginning and nodded. Scoping his child up, he crawled further onto the bed. Settling against its soft mattress, they cuddled closer, the blankets lifted over them both.
"I do have something to tell you, Star." He admits, his elbow propped up to lean his chin against his hand.
"Hmm?" MK tipped his head. "A big story?"
"A very, very important story." Wukong nodded. "Now Xiaotian, listen," Wukong grabbed his hands, making sure to have his full attention. "This is super important, okay?"
MK blinked a few times, nodding his little head in understanding. "Otay."
Wukong smiles, "I'm going to tell you a story about someone- very important to me." He settled down to find his words. He honestly wasn't sure if he would have ever told MK about Mihou.
Not because MK didn't deserve to know, but because Wukong didn't trust himself not to break down once he started talking about him. He didn't want MK, who was so young, to bear witness to his agony.
If he were stronger, maybe he would have. But, of course, Xiaotian was so little himself. Wukong worried he might not even understand what he would tell him. He'd try his best anyway.
"This is a story about a warrior." He smiles when his Son's eyes sparkle eagerly. "The greatest Warrior in the world. He is kind and smart and... And beautiful." He felt his Son's tail curl against his own.
"How bootiful?" His Son asked, drawing out the word.
Wukong dramatically waved his hand, "The moon is jealous of his beauty. He is so beautiful that flowers look ugly compared to him."
MK smiled silently, tugging the blanket closer. "Really?"
"Oh yes. This warrior was, is, the best person in this world. Sometimes he is a little shy, but you'll never see someone so willing to do what is right."
"Is he stronger than Dada?" Mk touched his cheek. Considering the question, Wukong took a second to kiss that precious little hand.
"Well...." In terms of pure strength, the answer was a clear no. In terms of every other type of willpower...
"He is. He's powerful. He beats me all the time." Wukong admits. He frowns, "Steals from me too. A cheeky thief." He considered MK a little thief, but Mihou was always far worse. Stealing his clothes, his food, his pillows.
....His heart.
"Like me!" At least self-aware of his tendencies but not feeling wrong about them in the slightest, MK threw his hands up.
"You are more of a peach thief." Wukong corrected. MK patted his stomach. Before he could ask for a peach, Wukong kept going, "B-But the warrior preferred plums."
"Plums?" MK patted his chin. Yeah, he liked plums too.
Playing with a tuft of Xiaotian's hair, Wukong felt a warmth in his chest, "The Warrior is a great person. He liked plays... Musicals. He likes to write songs but is embarrassed to sing them. His voice is like an angel's, but he doesn't believe you when you tell him that." He smiles into his palm, grinning, "He doesn't like to eat a lot but could easily beat you in a pie-eating contest. He's a trickster to those he doesn't like but honest to those he loves. He seems aloof when you meet him, but he likes holding hands. He wears his heart on his sleeve, even if he denies that. He's got this way of making you feel like the most important person in the world... But doesn't look in the mirror to see all the great things about himself." When his eyes were drawn back to his child, realizing he had rambled, he felt his cheeks burn at his child's wide stare.
He hadn't meant to talk so much.
"Is the warrior a real person?" His child was curious now.
"Yes, he is." Wukong cleared his throat. "He is actually..." He trailed off. "...Xiaotian. The warrior, I wanted to tell you that he is... That is to say..." He sighs. "I'm your Dada, but... You have a second Dada." Wukong settled his hand on MK's head, softly combing his fingers through his fur. The child hugged his monkey doll to his chest, confused.
"Two Dadas?" He asked, "Like when there are two of you?"
Without asking, Wukong knew what MK meant, "Not like my clones." He shakes his head. "That is still just me. This second Dada I'm talking about is- um- well, he is your Baba."
"Baba?" The title was so considerably sweeter when MK said it.
Wukong's heart melted; he took MK's arm and touched it to groom his fur. His hair was so wispy and soft. It wasn't as thick as his, still so baby thin. "Yeah."
"What is a Baba?" MK questioned, nuzzling against his Father's hand.
"Baba also means Dad." He says, "You have two dads. Me, and your Baba." He touched his chest, "You know how my name is Sun Wukong, but I'm your Dada?" He asked.
MK nodded, reminded of when he once called his Dada "Wukong" like his Uncles did. His Dada had been so upset~ MK felt like giggling at the memory, sometimes calling his Dada "Wukong" to make his Uncles laugh. His Dada always fell over and was silly when he did.
"Yeah, you are Wukong." MK covered his mouth and giggled. His Father immediately pinched his little cheeks lightly, pouting.
"Yes, but you call me Dada ." He says strictly, imploring his Son not to give up the name Wukong so cherished. His little gremlin of a child giggled evilly. That same evil giggles he's had since he was just a baby. "Anyway, back on track. I'm Sun Wukong, but your Dada. Your Baba... He is the warrior. His name is Liu'er Mihou."
"Mihou," MK recited.
"Call him Baba," Wukong stressed this, quietly pleading with his Son. Mihou might actually kill him if MK called him that on their first meeting.
Xiaotian swayed a little, nodding his head, "Baba."
"That's right." Wukong smiled. He looked at Ke, the monkey doll. He lifted it, saying, "Your Baba actually made this."
Xiaotian looked at Ke in shock, "Made Ke??"
"Yup! He made him all for you." Wukong's gaze softened, "Your Baba loves you very, very much, MK. And for reasons, he was gone." Wukong would tell MK one day. He owed Macaque at least that. He just couldn't today. Not when MK was so tiny and would just get confused and frightened by it all. He wanted Xiaotian's and Mihou's first meeting to be nothing but a good thing.
"On a trip?"
"Yes, like a trip," Wukong concluded. "He's back now... And he wants to meet you."
MK hugged his Ke doll, nuzzling it. His brain was clearly working a mile a minute trying to make sense of all this. "Is Baba nice?"
"Very nice." Wukong nodded. "He likes playing games. He likes making art." He drew a smile from MK, grinning back. "He really likes art." He says, adoring how his Son's tail wagged. "He's very strong and very kind." Wukong's gaze softened, drawn into his explanation. "He'll show you so many amazing things, Xiaotian. You'll have so much fun with him. And he'll love you so much. He'll teach you all these fun new things." He looked at MK, "He wants to be a part of your family."
MK pointed to himself, "My family?"
"That's right. Your Baba wants to meet you and get to know you." Wukong held MK's hands, softly caressing his knuckles with his thumbs.
"He does?" MK asked, a wiggle to his nose. His tail was thumping against the bed, excited.
Wukong felt himself smile, nodding. "Yes." His heart felt heavy. "But, I want you to make a choice." He patted MK's head, kissing his forehead, "You deserve to decide who is in your life or not. So, I want to know..." He paused, finding his words. "Do you want to meet your Baba?"
MK shifted his weight. He looked down at his feet, considering this question. His little head swayed back and forth, thinking very seriously. Squeezing his Father's hands, he nodded. "I wanna meet him." The child concludes.
Wukong exhaled, not sure if he should feel worry or relief. "Okay. Then you can."
"Right now??" MK jumped up, tossing his arms up with excitement. New friend! New family! MK would show him around and give his Baba a house tour first. Then he'd show his Baba where his favorite snacks were hidden. Then- then- oh, he'd show his Baby his drawing book and draw pictures with him.
His Father was chuckling deeply, "Soon." He promised, "But it is late now and your bedtime." He gave him a wink. "So, off to bed with you." He patted the mattress, bundling the blankets in the way he knew MK liked. His child circled the bundle, a puff of energy.
"I wanna know more about Baba. Does he like snacks? Rocks? Dada, can I give him some rocks?"
Wukong's grin couldn't be broader, "He would love some rocks." When MK laid down, curling into his Dada's torso, he waited until Wukong started to pat his back. He liked when his Dada did this; MK continued to talk, his voice a little muffled since he kept nuzzling into Wukong's side.
"Draw Baba some pictures and make him some snacks. Give him some juice. Baba like to swim?"
"As much as any Stone Monkey does," Wukong permits.
"So lots! I like swimming a lot!"
"I know you do." Wukong mused. Especially since they both just sunk like the rocks they were. Even with how much MK liked to swim, he would always need to wear floaties to not just plummet right to the bottom.
"I'll pack my packpack," MK says, talking to himself more about everything he'd put in his backpack to take to his Baba to show him. Wukong's heart couldn't feel warmer as he listened to his little boy talk about the adventure he would take Mihou on. He smiled into his own palm. He needed some time to get this up, but he couldn't wait for the two to meet.
—————
Macaque stood at the doors of the Bull family. They towered above him, as they always had. While once they gave him a sense of warmth and welcome, they stood coldly to him now.
He reached his hand out, touching the bitter-cold metal of the handle.
Lifting it, he slammed it against the door to announce his presence. Then he waited, prepared for well; he couldn't prepare for anything.
Hearing the door shift, he stepped back, expecting it to be opened slowly and welcomed by some untrusting guards. Instead, it flew open with a surging force, sending Macaque flying backward.
Gagging, he flipped to land on his feet and dragged backward a fair distance. Rubbing his sore chin, he lifted his head. Billowing wind pooled from the entrance, overtaking the room in its might.
A figure slowly emerged from its power, forming the outline of a sharp fan in their grasp. "What dares enter my domain?"
Mihou held his breath, recognizing that voice all too swiftly. He straightened his back, his eyes wavering when his Sister's face finally appeared. "Sister," He spoke.
It took a few moments for Princess Iron Fan to take in his presence. She was dressed in dark mourning black, overtaking her presence in its gloom. Her hair, while commonly so pristine, was unkempt, falling over her shoulders and overtaking the expanse of her back.
Her face was bare of makeup, brows furrowed in challenging rage. The years did not remove the beauty of her face but certainly seemed to take a toll on her mind.
Numb with shock, she looked at him. Her eyes moved up and down his form, debating if this was some cruel dream or if the dead really did stand before her.
"Wait- this... This can't be!" Her hands raised, dispersing the winds. Macaque's fur settled back against his face, cupping his features as they settled. Amber eyes bore into her own crystal gaze, welcoming the sight of a Brother she long since lost.
"Are you truly-?" her voice is a haunted whisper.
Mihou had been in this situation just a few days before. Standing like some fancied painting to be gawked at and debated on its authenticity.
"It can't be. You're-"
"Alive?" How easily he repeats the answer to the sentence Wukong had asked. It feels bitter in his mouth. It's even worse how similarly Wukong and Iron Fan's reactions mirror the other. The true and honest shock gave way to genuine relief and joy. He had expected such a reaction from his Sister. Not from Wukong.
It left his mind in a compromising state that he'd much rather avoid. So, he stepped forward, watching how his Sister flinched. She stepped back as if she believed he had come to haunt her.
"It's truly me, Sister." He explains softly.
She was seizing his arm a moment later. Grasping at him with desperately cold fingers. "You can't be." She gathered his face into her hands, checking for a pulse, breath, warmth... He was real. He was alive. Her face crumbled, her knees buckling in a way Mihou had never seen the mighty Princess bend before. It was the expression not of some war-winning fighter but of a broken soul, lost to wander this land of sorrow.
"Mihou." She was swaying, the name a lost echo of something that once was.
He was worried about falling to pieces around her, but he realized now that was a foolish thing to be concerned about. They would shatter together- then build themselves back up together.
He tugged her against him, burying his face into the ink black of her hair. She smelled like violets and ash, just as she always had. His voice broke out from his throat, welcoming his chest for a sob, "I'm home, Sister." He sank his body forward, and the two of them fell to the ground.
She felt smaller in his arms then last they embraced. Frail and soft...
He wondered if she could feel the same, sensing the truth between his baggy clothes and the wretched boney form hidden beneath. Recovering from being dead for so long wasn't a quick process, even given the months he had already been around. No, unlike injuries, which healed quickly enough, the weight and body mass of his form was taking far longer to regain. He looked like a twig in comparison to Iron Fan.
"How is this possible?" She murmured against his ear, something wet staining her face. She brushed it away before Mihou could look. "How are you here, Brother? I was certain you had-" She couldn't bring the words to the surface.
"It is a long story." He spoke somberly. "One I can tell you- perhaps inside?" He gestured beyond her domain's front doors.
Realizing she was putting on this scene in public, not knowing who might be watching, she quickly composed herself. "Yes, yes." She gathered his hands into hers, pulling them both to their feet. "Come in." She led him inside, promptly closing the door behind her.
Barely a foot from the door, she stopped to take in his appearance again. She just couldn't believe her eyes. "Look at you." She took his arms, holding them outward to examine him in detail. He had always kept his clothes the same since returning to this realm. He had, of course, taken plunges into rivers from time to time but had never lingered into them long enough to consider them a proper bath. The dried blood on his shirt had faded- blending in with the brown of its color. His hair was messy and unkempt, dragging down his face. Typically he would have cut it by now, but that was the last of his priorities.
His face felt hot with shame. "I... Have looked better," He admits quietly.
"We should clean you up." She concluded. There was life in her cheeks. The forlorn figure he saw emerge from the gates had returned to the fearful Bull Queen he knew so well. "Get you out of such garbs." She took his hand to guide him, even if he knew the way. "Then we can talk." Taking to the steps, the domain was still.
From time to time, Macaque saw the shadows of workers but did not nearly match the numbers of what they were last he was here. If you weren't paying attention, you might assume this once-powerful domain was abandoned.
The life extinguished.
It left Mihou with an unbearable amount of questions, but he knew it would come with time. They both had a lot of explaining to do.
When arriving at her private quarters, she guided her Brother to the back beyond the wardrobes. Nothing had changed within as far as Mihou could tell. Iron Fan wasn't one to change her taste in aesthetics so easily.
"The Bath." She opened the door and gestured to him within. "I'll fetch you some spare clothes." She took a moment to press her thumb on his scarf. She fiddled with it, reminding herself that he was real for the millionth time that day. "Take your time. I'll make some tea as well."
He offered a slight nod, heading into the bathing house. It was misty and covered in clean porcelain. He hadn't been here in centuries, but very little had changed in its design.
He undressed slowly, tossing his old gear into the basket pressed to the side of the wall. He let the water fill the tub and ran his fingers below it to test the temperature. When was the last time he allowed himself a warm bath?
He wasn't sure.
Once it was filled, he sunk into it, feeling the appreciative ache of his bones. With an inclination of his head, he exhaled. The soap smelled like citrus.
He realized too late what a mistake it was to give himself the chance to relax. Doing so brought a strange noise from his throat. Agony and sorrow just waiting right behind his teeth for a moment to escape. His voice cracked, his lower lip wobbling. "Fuck..." His eyes stung. He brushed his arm against his nose, ducking his head below the surface.
Holding his breath as long as he could, he emerged back to the surface with a hefty grunt. The water was a murky brown.
He grimaced, kicking the drain up with his foot. As soon as it was gone, he started the faucet a second time, letting it run. Scrubbing himself down first so it would directly rush down the drain, he let the bath fill once more.
Then he basked in its heat.
Fiddling with whatever products Iron Fan had, having always snooped through her things, he found a rubber duckie. He snorted, letting it float in the water with him. He could hear her outside. Calling to her, "I like the duck."
"Leave it be." She grumbled.
"It's cute." He snickered, flicking its beak.
With the bath done, he pulled himself from the water, his fur heavy and dripping. He snagged a towel, wrapping it around himself. It was fuzzy and warm, smelling like fresh mint.
Macaque lifted his arm to smell his own fur next. He smelled good; clean, fresh- like lemon. He hadn't really had time to care for himself in such a way since returning. His initial few months were just escaping Lady Bone Demon's henchman. After that, it was recovering his strength and avoiding any demons tracking him down.
Not that anyone was looking for him. Why would they? But he'd rather not catch their eye. He'd be sent back to where he came from before he could ever reach Xiaotian.
Opening the door, he peered out to see that Iron Fan had left some neatly folded clothes for him. He picked them up curiously, comparing them to himself in the mirror. "Hmm." Getting dressed, he took a moment to stare at himself again. Even with how small they were, they still seemed baggy against his form.
"I need to eat more." He mumbled, tying the belt around his waist, then quickly decided against it. At least with how the clothes bunched and sagged, he could give off the illusion he wasn't some twig.
The belt was a dead giveaway to how small he currently was. "My abs." He pursed his lips in remorse, patting his now flat and subtle stomach.
Deciding a haircut would be for later, he wandered outside, not wanting his Sister to wait much longer.
Iron Fan had already set up the living area for his visit. The Fireplace was alive, crackling pleasantly and highlighting the room in an orange hue. Hot tea was being poured as he approached. Iron Fan even took the time to do her hair, hoping to look presentable. Her eyes flickered over his body, taking in the sight of him. Whatever slew of comments she clearly wanted to make was swallowed down, replaced with a single question, "How do you feel?"
"Better." He patted the clothes, and he meant it. A good bath always made him feel better. "Thank you, by the way. They are nice." He gestured to the clothes. They were warm colors of purple, white, and black.
"I actually had those made for you before." She admits, "Intended as a gift, but- I never had the chance to give them to you." She put the kettle down, "You've lost weight."
He grimaced and glanced away, "So have you."
"A few pounds at best." She jabbed a finger into his side. Precise and deadly, "You are nothing but bones right now."
He clicked his teeth, inhaling in a sharp hiss when pain erupted from the spot she jabbed. He removed her finger, a piercing glare in his gaze. By the way she stared blankly, it wasn't hard to guess; It had been a test to see just how much strength he currently possessed. No trial was needed to understand he was far from what he once was.
Instead of commenting on that, however, she gestured for him to sit. They basked in each other's company and their tea for the next few minutes. There was so much to say, but neither knew where to start. Eventually, Iron Fan spoke first.
"You missed much, Brother." She lowered her cup. "So much."
"Gongzhu..." He whispered her name. Her true name. One she had abandoned long ago when she left the Celestial Realm to be with her Husband. Her eyes flickered at its mention, taking a toll on her expression.
"Mihou." She murmured back. "Tell me everything, and I'll do the same in return."
Swallowing, Mihou nodded. He regarded her with his story, as pathetic as it was. "You already know what happened after our defeat to the Jade Emperor." DBK had been forced to return home, while Mihou had fled to Flower Fruit Mountain. He had to ensure the safety of his child after that attack.
Many demons had flocked to the mountain after hearing what had happened to Wukong. They had taken this as an opportunity .
The King was bested, leaving his domain up for the taking. Mihou hadn't let a single one of them through the borders. As terrifying as it was, he had done this on his own. Little demons like that were easier to eliminate compared to the Celestial court...
Speaking of the Celestial Realm... surprisingly, they hadn't bothered him. Perhaps he had no longer been seen as a threat since Wukong was taken care of? He wasn't sure.
"As you know, we had... An argument during his imprisonment." He reminded her. When he finally had time to risk leaving the mountain alone for a day, he returned to Wukong. Months had passed, and his King had been waiting for him beneath his prison. It broke Mihou's heart to see his Beloved caged. For months he had longed to see him. He lost sleep worrying about what Wukong was going through...
Wukong was meant to be free.
There was nothing Macaque could do to help, as much as he tried. Their Brothers were gone, DBK was injured, and Mihou was exhausted from his months defending their home- For their Tribe and child.
He could still recall how he cupped Wukong's face and kissed him. How he murmured Wukong's name in the sweetest tone... and how cold of a response Wukong had given in return. Bitterly sneering at him.
"Finally decided to visit me, did you?"
It was harsh, but thinking back to it now, Mihou couldn't exactly fault him. Wukong had been imprisoned for months. To Wukong, he had no means of knowing what was going on beyond that cave. He had no idea that Mihou was defending everything they held dear.
He must have thought that Mihou could have visited at any point. It must have looked like Mihou purposely hadn't visited him.
Hadn't come to check on his Mate.
Had just run away and left him there...
How long had Wukong waited for him to visit- to try and save him? And months went by without anything? How lonely had he been?
Of course, Mihou could recognize this now. But back then, he had been exhausted and short of sleep. His temper was even shorter.
"How very kind of you to grace me with your presence~ Gosh, I'm just soooo lucky to get a visit from my "Husband" after so many moons~"
Macaque flinched, eyes wide in shock. Ah, but, he knew what this was. He knew Wukong far too well. Gritting his teeth, he slipped his hands from Wukong's face and stepped back. "I'm here now." exhaustion crept behind his eyes. In truth, he would probably be better off sleeping. Even now, he was on edge, his shadows covering the mountain in case anyone dared to enter the domain. Their Tribe could hold out, but their child would be defenseless. He wanted to bring their egg for a visit with their Dad too, but Mihou needed to figure out what sort of security had been set in place here.
Not a lot.
The Celestial Realm seemed pretty convinced no one would be able to free the Monkey King. Painfully, Macaque needed more power to challenge that thought.
Wukong snorted, "Finally found time in your busy schedule?" his eyes flickered up and down Macaque's form. "Must be living it up in the mountain. Guess it was easy to forget I was here."
"Excuse me?" Macaque hissed, his blood boiling. He hadn't worked himself to the bone for months to be treated like this. He wasn't searching for a thank you, but it wouldn't hurt either! "I wouldn't have to visit if you had just listened to me in the first place..."
"Oh, so now this is my fault?!" Wukong was quick to snap back.
"Yes??" Mihou barked. "I told you that the Celestial Realm would come for you! You just had to be the hero, didn't you? Had to help Azure!"
"YOU were the one who told me I needed Allies! I didn't hear you speaking up when we joined him!
Mihou threw his arms out, "Because I trusted you when you insisted we could handle it! When you insisted, nothing could stop you! You said this was the best way to protect the mountain- to protect our child!"
"Yet you left me here the moment things got rough! You ran away like a coward!"
Mihou staggered. He had always been called a coward by countless demons who looked down on him. They called him weak because he wasn't like Wukong. He didn't run head-first into danger, so that made him a "coward." Just because he used his damn brain to think for a moment, unlike his Mate!
But never had he thought Wukong believed that too.
He cursed at Wukong in his anger. "I didn't run away! You were just foolish enough to be caught! The "Great Sage Equal to Heaven"." He laughed mockingly, "More like the Dumb Stone Monkey!"
Wukong's eyes widened, his mouth opening wide at the insult. He grits his teeth a moment later, seething.
Mihou was staggering, startling Wukong shortly when he almost fell over. Their eyes locked in furious shock.
"...Mihou-?" Wukong's eyes softened momentarily, concerned when he finally deigned to notice the bags under his Mate's eyes. The slouch of his body and the stains on his clothes.
Mihou was shaking his head. He no longer had time for this. He had to return to the mountain, "It was a mistake coming here. Why don't you cool off?" Mihou had flipped him off in his heated temper. He had to get home after all. He was the only one who could protect their child now. "When you finish your sentence, I'll be waiting at home."
Wukong clicked his teeth, stunned, "Mihou!"
Mihou had ducked into the shadows with a scowl when Wukong roared after him in petty anger, "OH yeah?? Well, you- you--- butt face!"
The most wanted man alive, feared by all, had always been terrible at insulting people verbally.
Lowering his head, Mihou sighed as he was drawn from his memories and back to the Bull Family Domain.
He regretted that conversation for months following that incident. Things at home had calmed down. He had proven while Wukong was gone, Flower Fruit Mountain was far from defenseless. With the peace returned and the Tribe safe enough to watch over the egg in his absence, he let himself rest and recover.
He could have visited Wukong, but maybe he was a coward because he didn't.
Nearly two years later, Iron Fan arrived on the mountain. She had a message for him, knowing in his isolation, he must not have heard.
She informed him of what had happened to her child, Red Son. Mihou knew he had a nephew, having visited when the child was born. He hadn't been aware of how wild his powers were.
"After the argument, I hadn't returned to see him for a long time. It had been you who told me Wukong had been freed." Macaque says darkly. Iron Fan lowered her gaze, nodding. She hadn't been aware until the Great Monk arrived with Wukong and the Lotus Prince in tow to help seal her Son's powers.
Of course, making Red Son her priority at the time, unable to leave his side at first, she eventually took herself to the mountain to tell her Brother what she knew. Mihou hadn't believed her at first.
When he arrived at the mountain that held his Mate, it was in shambles. The prison that held Wukong was gone- and his Mate had been freed more than a year prior.
It overwhelmed Mihou with joy! 500 years was the sentence, yet he had been freed within a year's time?? Mihou had been terrified that when their child was born in a few years, finally gaining enough of the eclipse's energy, they would have to grow up knowing their Father was a prisoner.
Yet now, Wukong could witness their baby's birth and be there in his life!
It had taken some time to track down what had happened, but Mihou had been so overwhelmed with his joy that he didn't stop to wonder...
Why hadn't Wukong returned?
Taking some months, having to slow his search to return home, he eventually discovered what had happened to Wukong. He was on a journey Westward, accompanied by strange demons and a human.
All while branded with a golden circlet over his forehead.
"Yes, he helped pull the Samadhi Fire from my Son." Iron Fan leaned back. "A debt I thought I would begrudgingly owed him... Until he took what else I had left."
Macaque's eyes darted to meet hers. She took a long sip of her tea, lowering the cup. "You... Know what happened?"
"I know all that Sun Wukong has done,' Her voice was bitter. "He saved my son from burning himself alive, but that was a short-lived victory." She didn't elaborate on that for now, continuing, "Then he stole the life from your chest and buried my Husband in the ground."
Macaque felt his breath shorten, "What?" He whispered. He had wondered why DBK had not crawled out of whatever room he was in by now. "What are you talking about??"
She explained the best she could. She told him how her Husband had intended to take over the mortal realm for many reasons and was subsequently defeated and sealed away by Sun Wukong.
"He took both of you from me." Her hands reached to cup Mihou's face. "Part of me is at least grateful for his mercy to only seal my Husband but... But you..." Her voice broke. "He took you from me forever."
"Wukong..." Macaque couldn't believe his ears. So in truth, all of the Brotherhood had been defeated by Sun Wukong. All Sealed Away... But him.
He laughed. It fell from his chest and morphed into something worse. "That idiot." He shook his head, tugged against Iron Fan's shoulder when tears stung his eyes.
"Please, Mihou-" She held her cheek, "How are you here now?"
Swallowing, he cleared his throat. "I made a deal." He dropped his head mournfully. "A stupid deal."
She held him outward, eyes severe and narrowed. "Explain."
He sniffed, his shoulders slouched. "Have you ever heard of the Lady Bone Demon?"
The very name brought a chill to the room. His Sister's eyes darkened, leaning back to scowl, "I've never met her personally, but I know her tale. Was it this Witch who brought you back?"
'Yes." He nodded, "With the notion that with it, I free her."
"You what?" Her Sister gawked at him, "That is a fool's errand, Mihou!"
"Of course it is." He agreed sharply, frowning at her. "I know that well enough." He turned his head, glad he had left the key back on the mountain. He hated carrying that thing around. "I had no other option. It doesn't mean I plan to accomplish it. I just wanted to see-" he lowered his gaze. "I just wanted to see my child."
Something strange crosses Iron Fan's eyes. "Your child." She repeats. Carefully approaching this, she tilted her head, "Have you gone to see Wukong already?"
Mihou withered and nodded. He delved into one more story, explaining all he could. The blackmail, the month time frame. It confused Princess Iron Fan, who gave him a wild look.
"I don't understand." She admits.
"What about it is confusing?" Mihou asked.
"I just... I thought your child had-" She shook her head, "Perhaps I was wrong...?" Mihou was quick to note this, leaning closer.
"What do you know, Gongzhu?" He asked. "I've been looking for answers, and no one seems to want to give them to me. From what that Witch said, my child had died. But the way Wukong talked made me convinced he must be alive. I don't know what is real or not."
His Sister's gaze looked distant, pointed in the direction of the setting sun from the window. "I don't know myself," she admits. "However, there was a time after losing my Husband when I went to Flower Fruit Mountain. I drew Wukong from behind his waterfall, where he seemed resigned to stay for the rest of his days. He wasn't the monster I remembered." She shook her head.
It tortured her to remember this. She had gone there to seek vengeance. To satiate her helplessness and mourning- but she left unsatisfied.
"He was... Despondent, to say the least." She shrugged, running a hand through her hair. "No matter what I said, he simply agreed with me. He let me strike him, but as we both know, I could never kill him. And I certainly tried." Her gaze met Mihou's, dark when she said, "For a moment, I thought he wanted me to."
Mihou swallowed; his hands collapsed together and tightened. He didn't want to think about something like that. About Wukong at some breaking point, where he, himself, regrets his own immortality. It didn't sit right with him. It was the thought a weaker version of himself would indulge and rush to rectify... He held himself back from doing so.
"However, while there, I saw no sign of a child. I even demanded his answer about your little one- but he could not respond. He just shook his head." Iron Fan closes her eyes at the memory. "This was nearly 400 years ago by this point. I haven't seen Wukong since. I don't know what happened, but I was positive your child hadn't been born."
That wasn't... Comforting, to say the least.
"More questions then." Macaque took a swig of his tea. "Great..."
"If he insists the child he has is Xiaotian, though, perhaps he was born." Iron Fan twirls a strand of her hair. "Strange things seem to happen when stone monkeys are involved." It was said in a joking manner, spurring a smile from Mihou. "I will happily join you in burning down that mountain if Wukong doesn't return by the end of the month."
"Thank you, Sister." He gave a weak shrug, "I said it out of necessity and anger, but I doubt I'll have the resolve to truly see it through."
"You'll be surprised what scorn, and the desire for one's child can draw from you." His Sister says, "...After all, it convinced Wukong to use blackmail against you and show some fire in his eyes." She snorted, almost laughing, "He finally shows a spark of life back in him, and he does it in the most foolish way possible."
"He is an idiot," Macaque growled, shaking his head.
After their tea and having talked for so long, Macaque had almost all his questions answered. Since losing her Husband, Iron Fan had been here, keeping what little remains of her domain going. She had searched high and low for a way to lift Wukong's staff.
Mihou wanted to suggest that perhaps he could, but Wukong's favor in him had been what allowed him to do so. Now that they were apart, they both doubted he could still lift it. It would be something to at least try later...
For now, Macaque only has one more question. It was a topic his Sister had only mentioned once and was quick to cast it aside.
"Gongzhu." He whispered, drawing her eyes to him. "I have one more question for you."
Her hands folded against her lap, a heavy sigh leaving her. She seemed to already know what he wanted to ask. "Then say it."
Macaque looked down, his expression somber. "...Where is Red Son, Gongzhu?"
The dismay that covered her face a moment later made his heart shatter. "He's... Here." She stood without much further elaboration.
"Here?" he asked. How old was he now? Why hadn't he come around during their conversation? Mihou faintly recalled how Red Son had often been seen clinging to her Mother's dress or holding DBK's large pinky with his tiny little hand. He was also nervous about straying too far from them...
"I..." His Sister stood. "Follow me." With their tea time done, she had him follow her down the hallways.
Towering and cold, they expanded for what felt like an eternity. Their steps echoed in its abandoned expanse.
Eventually, they arrived at the steel door, guarded by two of her more impressive-looking guards. The only ones Macaque seemed to see since arriving.
Upon her arrival, they opened the doors for their Queen, bowing their heads in respect. She moved past them without a word. Waiting until the doors closed again, she took Macaque's hand.
It startled him, making him flinch. She held him steady, eyes bearing into his own. "Make no mistake... I owe Sun Wukong and the Lotus Prince for saving my Son from the flames of the Samadhi fire. That power would have destroyed him at his tender age."
Macaque swallowed, peering over her shoulder. He didn't know what he expected to see. He had no means of preparing for it. The room was filled with toys and soft trinkets.
Untouched and pristine, all stacked in rows and towers. Amongst them was a large bed. A curtain was splayed across it like a heavenly veil.
He could only see the fuzzy outline of a person lying on the bed beyond its hidden covers.
His heart was pounding. Numbly he nodded, "Okay..."
Her hand tightened around his, nearly shaking. "However-" she choked up. Lowering her gaze, she inhaled to find her composure. "When you steal 90% of what makes someone who they are... It doesn't go without consequence."
She stepped to the bed, still clinging to Mihou's hand like a lifeline. With one swoop of her palm, she drew back the veil, revealing the great secret she kept hidden within her walls.
Her only remaining family- her Son... Her little boy.
The Bull Prince, Red Son, lay on the soft sheets that covered the bed. His face was pale white, tucked safely below the covers.
Mihou had seen him when he was an infant, 500 years ago. He couldn't understand how Red Son, who should be a young adult at this given time.... Was no older than a toddler.
He lay as if in a peaceful slumber, undisturbed for who knows how long upon this bed. Like a fair princess cursed in a fairy tale- but no Prince Charming was coming to his rescue.
" What?" Macaque murmured, shaking his head. "Gongzhu- how is he-??"
"It's a... Seal, of sorts." She ran her hand forward against the child's red-dotted forehead. Her thumb pressed the dot affectionately. When doing so, a shimmer of gold seemed to take over the child's body like an encasing or tomb, unseen by the naked-eyed. "It- stops his aging. He's frozen in a stilled sense of time, unable to age or wake up. No different than dead." She closed her eyes bitterly.
"B-but why?" Macaque shakes his head. He couldn't fathom it.
"When the Samadhi fire was first removed, Red Son was weakened. We considered this a normal situation, considering what he had done through. It only got worse. The fire that once kept his soul and heart beating had been ripped from him." She looked distant, as if she was standing back decades ago. "He couldn't eat, sleep- he couldn't even speak. He was more dead than alive." Her lower lip trembled. "At the time, I scoured the land for a cure. For some means to fill in the space of his soul that the samadhi fire had ripped from him!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. "I found nothing. The only thing I could do was this. To hold him in place, right here, until I could find a way for him to live."
So here, the Bull Prince stayed. Frozen in time, lost to the world, for the last 500 years.
Macaque didn't know what to say.
He reached his hand out when Gongzhu swayed, the Queen of the Bull family, shivering like a lost little girl. She had lost everything. Her Husband, her child- everything. Mihou wished he had come to her sooner.
He should have returned to her side two years ago instead of letting her suffer even a moment longer on her own.
Stepping closer, he slipped his arm around her side. She fell against him with little fight, his breath haggard. "I did my best." She insisted. It was quiet, a soft insistence. This woman, who held no weakness in the eyes of her people and the domains who looked to her, was as strong as ever. Her family was shattered, but she held whatever pieces together as best she could.
"I know," Mihou whispered to her temple. His shoulder felt wet. She didn't make a sound, and he dared not look at the tears that slipped down her cheeks, "I know..."
They were broken...
But at least they were broken together.