Chapter Text
It's a wonderful day in Flower Fruit Mountain. The skies are clear and blue, the sun is warm and not scorching, and the wind is a cold breeze. A perfect eternal spring.
But all is not so well in the island. Especially when—
"Why haven't you said anything to him?!"
And they're at it again. Wonderful. Truly wonderful. If you pan your camera to the right, you'll find two idiots fighting about custody righ–erm, I mean, their student's heritage and possible connection to them. Just kidding, there is no camera but a fuckload of drama and tension and no, I will not specify what kind.
Wukong sighs, his tail thrashing behind him. He takes a deep breath through his nose. Him getting angry never ended well for either of them. "Look, I just.. haven't found the time to say anything about it, okay?"
"Haven't found the time my ass, you train with him every other day." Macaque pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't keep running from this."
Wukong looks away, like he usually does when he's trying to avoid confrontation. Running away, per usual. Macaque has faced this years before, he can do it again.
Macaque shook his head. "Tch. Just... make sure you talk to him. Or else I'll tell him myself."
Wukong's eyes finally glanced back at Macaque, and his stubborn facade faltered ever so slightly.
The argument was weak at best. But their fights never needed to be too deep for any of them to start an argument. Food, strength, world ending revelations, MK's unknown heritage that desperately needed to be adressed—everything and anything, they could make an argument out of it.
They couldn't talk like normal people, and couldn't communicate for shit.
In the mostly peaceful atmosphere of Flower Fruit Mountain, the two of them were like a stain in it's clean bright backdrop. Noise was never uncommon in the mountain, and yet it was the wrong kind of noise. Not the ambience of critters running around or the sounds of nature. But the non-existent noise of... tension.
If tension had a noise, that's what it sounded like; two idiots arguing. Two very stubborn idiots. and gay
"..."
Realizing that Wukong wasn't going to fight back, Macaque just huffs and turns away.
Each step felt like glass shattering. Of course Wukong wouldn't fight back. For a second, Macaque missed how boisterous and loud he could be—the Wukong that never backed down from an argument, and never held back his punches or his biting words. But Wukong changed, and Macaque's not sure if he enjoyed that.
Actually no, he's sure. He doesn't enjoy it at all. Wukong of the present was... He wouldn't say cowardly, since he's always been a coward one way or another (from death or from emotional vulnerability). But he definitely was pathetic.
But even though Macaque wished he'd fight back a little more, there's a sense of relief. He doesn't enjoy it, nor does he like it—but there's an awful sense of relief in what feels like mutual understanding.
Wukong doesn't fight back, so Macaque bites his tongue and holds back the insults and the hurtful words that'd come out of his mouth. And in return, Wukong turns away before anything he does becomes another starting point for a fight between them. Wukong will growl and then flee, not wanting to aggravate the situation any longer. Before he gets angry, and Macaque ends up on the receiving end of it. Again.
A single step into the shade of the trees, and Macaque is gone. One step, and he falls through the shadows and into whatever realm is inside the portal. And Wukong just watches.
After MK took the staff and became Wukong's successor, their fights became less frequent. Before him, they'd constantly bicker and squabble about anything and it'd turn into a brawl with every hurtful word and insult thrown across each other.
Except Wukong grew tired of it. The same way he's grown tired of everything else. So he stops fighting back and walks away before his anger skyrockets and the two of them fight again. And he knows Macaque is scared of that. Scared of his anger, and then his sudden refusal to fight back when he knows that he's getting too worked up.
He can see the fear in Macaque's eyes whenever Wukong's voice starts to become louder, and more strained. He's scared.
There was a small—very small—point in his life where he might've enjoyed that look of fear in his enemy's eyes. But Wukong hated and despised that look of dread in his mate's eyes. Not on his mate.
Like Macaque knows and fears what Wukong can do.
The King looked at the shadows of the forest, and he leaps back into Water Curtain Cave, hiding back into his hut. He would've walked through the forest, would've looked at the scenery, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the things he and Macaque had once built for their kingdom. Even though it was long gone by now, overtaken by flora, the charred ruins of houses now retaken by nature. It was still theirs and that was enough to make his chest hurt with something he couldn't name.
For all his intelligence, Wukong couldn't understand why Macaque continued to rile him up. He wonders why the macaque even bothers to see him–for anything.
They fight, neither apologize. Apologies don't fix what they've both done to each other.
Macaque just wants to see the old Wukong.
The Wukong that he had fallen in love with—not this.. shell of who he used to be. He refused to believe that his sun could ever be this—this docile. Others may not see it. But Wukong—the old Wukong—wouldn't stand to see himself be like this. This husk. This burnt out, depressed loner who grieves too much and keeps to himself.
Macaque couldn't accept that Wukong changed. He had seen him as a king, this infallible god. Not.. Not this. He wants to see him be like that again. He wants to see the Old Sun Wukong, the one whose smile lit up every room and voice filled everybody's ears, the one whose words would bite at everyone and—
That Wukong–arrogant, loud and unafraid of anything–was the king that Macaque fell in love with.
The shadow user rests in a cave somewhere in the barren mountains, the one where he and Wukong would fight in frequently. Hell, they're the reason why it's so barren. The lonely mountain, MK and the dragon girl called it. But the mountain wasn't the only lonely one around these parts.
He closes his eyes (or rather eye) and rests. Not sleep, he doesn't like to sleep. It's all fine until they felt it.
Both of them felt it, and they're sure the inhabitants of the Flower Fruit mountain felt it too—that thrum of unfamiliar power. Unfamiliar to Wukong, but to Macaque... That erratic flow of power, like water rushing down a river.. Something Macaque knew too well because it flowed in his own veins.
Something arrived. What and from where, Macaque had no idea.
Chaos.
"Chaos, where the fuck is this now."
"I have no idea!"