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They're fighting; a vital part of training. And that's fine and all, except for the fact that MK's gotten better. Which wouldn't be a problem, normally! In fact, it'd be a good thing! But, it's not. It's actually bad. Especially with the fact that the kid's going for his head– that's very bad.
Wukong flinches. He tried to beat the instinct as soon as he noticed where MK was aiming, but.. he failed. The kid immediately halts, pulling his staff away from Wukong.
Curse that damn circlet. The only consolation he has about that thing is that glamour can cover up the scar. Can't have a crisis every time he looks in the mirror, right? God, he's a mess.
"Monkey King, are you okay?" MK questions gently—far too gently in response to an immortal being such as Wukong, and with his already battered mental state, he almost breaks down right then and there. Almost.
He plasters on a, hopefully believable, grin. Though, his tail swings in agitation, fur bristling with his anxiety. "I'm fine, bud!" Shit, wait, no lying. His smile crumples almost as soon as it forms. "No, that's... Sorry. I will be fine. It's okay."
The kid seems relieved and proud of his correction. It swiftly fades into light concern though, as he remembers the topic. "Okay, that's good, I think! Do you wanna stop training for the day, then? Just.. relax instead?"
Wukong opens his mouth to answer, before raising an eyebrow in amusement. "I thought I was the one who usually asks that question?"
MK rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "Well, maybe, but right now this doesn't really seem like a 'usual' situation."
"Well, you got me there, bud." Wukong admits, stretching his arms high above his head. He was about to say they can just keep training, that he just needed a moment, but he hesitates. Does he really wanna risk another incident like the one that just happened? Plus, he's all wired with anxiety. No, MK deserves to be able to train more.. but MK was also the one that proposed the break in the first place. What if he needs to unwind too?
Unfortunately, it seems it's in Wukong's best interest to relax, no matter how much he wishes he didn't have to.
"Fine. We can take a rest." He relents, smiling at MK's cheer despite himself.
He wraps an arm around the kid's shoulder as they walk back to the cabin, MK tucking into his side easily. Like he was meant to be there.
Psh, he's sounding far too fatherly for his liking. Maybe he really has been going soft. But, looking at MK rambling away happily, how could he feel anything but contentedness?
On that note, MK is talking about how they're going to have a movie marathon for the Monkey Cop series– and, of course, what snacks they should get. Specifically ones not made of hair, from MK's insistence.
They finally settle on the couch, food stash and pillows acquired for maximum satisfaction. Wukong snatches the remote from the kid with his tail, ignoring the squawk of protest. He navigates to the proper channel, turning his attention to MK after he finds it.
"..By the way, did Macaque teach you the eye roll thing?"
"Uhm... Maybe?" MK squeaks out, grinning sheepishly.
Wukong levels him with a serious stare, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Next time you see him, tell him to stop. And tell him that if he refuses, I'll replace all the food in his house with hair."
MK breaks out in laughter, and Wukong's stoic expression wobbles as he quickly follows, bursting into chortles.