Chapter Text
Wukong rarely slept.
He preferred not to dream. Preferred to lay on his couch that was old and worn and look at the ceiling of his hut/house that hung small hammocks on some hooks for any monkeys that would come in during the night and wish to sleep in the warm home.
But Wukong always felt cold.
It's not like he needed to sleep anyway. He was immortal. He only slept when his tribe forced him to, worried and concerned for their king. They would all lay around him wherever he lay and cuddle with him until he ended up falling asleep.
But whenever he sleeps, he dreams.
He dreams about his old master, who is now long gone along with his sworn brothers and friends. But those are always fond memories.
And then he would dream about Mihou.
About white hair that would slowly turn black over time. About smiles and shared peaches as they would lay beside each other and look at the stars and listen as the other would talk about how beautiful the stars were. Wukong would always chime in, saying that he was more beautiful than any stars or the moon combined.
About that night.
The night he lost him in a fit of blind rage. And he would remember his moons' last words.
"Wukong! Wait–!!"
And then he would wake up right as his staff was about to hit. Being the last deafening blow to his moon.
Forever gone.
And long burried.
He wonders if his staff is clean now. Now that it's stuck holding the mountain atop the Demon Bull King. His once sworn brother. He left his brothers wife and son without a husband or a father. It was a sad thought, how he always seemed to tear apart things he never wanted to tear apart in the first place. He wished that the Bull King would've just listened to him when he tried to reason with him. When he tried to talk him out of his conquering mindset and goals. He learned many years prior that he should've always tried to talk things out first instead of instantly resolving to fighting.
But even with his efforts, Bull King didn't listen, didn't want to listen to Wukongs pleading. And they fought. It was a battle worthy of the Bull King, who had always been one of his trusted allies.
But now he's trapped bellow a mountain, his staff engraved into the soil bellow to keep him from ever getting out. He couldn't ever bring himself to kill him. But he guessed he did wrong by not giving the Bull King a worthy end. And instead imprisoning him.
Another thing he tried to do in kindness and mercy was that it only turned out to be cruel and unfair. Even if his sworn brother tried to take over everything.
And even if Mihou was in his own blind rage, hurt by Wukongs actions, now left to the grave.
Wukong should've held back. Should've listened to him when his moon came running, screaming in anger and hurt after Wukong left him to defend the tribe all on his own. Left him to watch some of their own die in the process of trying to protect. But instead of listening, Wukong walked away.
He wonders if he would ever be forgiven by either of them.
He knows he likely wouldn't.
His hands are more bloody than he ever intended. He wondered if he would ever be able to clean them one day.
.
"Seriously, Wukong? Again?"
Wukong turned his head sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck and letting out a sigh at the disappointed face of his friend. His friends fur color is now slowly becoming black instead of pure white. It was a slow change, but not unwelcome.
"Ah–" Wukong glanced away, putting his hands in his lap as he knew a scolding was about to come. He sat, crossing his legs and blushing a bit in embarrassment. "Look– it wasn't all my fault. Okay? I didn't mean to fight that guy! He threatened us first!"
He tried to defend himself, but Mihou rolled his eyes, obiously not having that excuse, appearing beside him from a shadow portal, scoffing as he tugged Wukongs slightly injured arm near him, taking some bandages he apparently already had (he always did. Just in case) and began wrapping up the wound. It was a pretty large cut, but not one that wouldn't heal quickly.
Wukong always tried to say that Mihou didn't need to. He would heal in maybe minutes to an hour at most. But his friend always insisted. Always felt the need to look over every scratch or bruise. (Something he realized that Mihou just wanted to care for him. Of course, he realized this too late)
The guy apparently had a very large weapon, almost sword-like, that he had hidden until the last moment when he slashed at him, getting him in the arm. An un-fair last move, if you asked Wukong. It didn't put him at risk, even if it got him more than it did, but still. It hurt, okay!?
"You can't just stop doing all of this, can you?" Mihou sighed, focusing on Wukongs arm, not meeting his eyes.
"Can't just..." Mihou frowned, his six ears flicking. "Just keep your promise about living forever with me... eating peaches, relaxing, and watching the sun, huh?"
Wukong looked away, wincing.
"You just have to keep fighting. Just have to keep going to get more and more ways to be immortal. What will it take for you to stop worrying about mortality and power and focus on... other things?" Mihou whispered.
Rarely was Mihou, or rather, Macaque, ever vulnerable. He never really spoke out about his own needs or wants. He usually stayed in the shadows. Unless it was around Wukong. But still, he would rarely ever get like this. That concerned brow furrow that he would always do when Wukong got hurt or thought of doing something stupid.
But back then, Wukong was terrified of mortality. He was terrified of losing power and not being strong enough to protect the people he cared about. But, he never had a good way of showing that. Most of the time, it seemed selfish. And for a time, he guessed it was selfish.
The way he ignored Mihous silent pleas for him to stop, to relax, and to stay with him. To say within arms reach. He should've kept his promise, but instead, he kept going. And going.
And going.
But back then, he couldn't really say how he was truly feeling, so he would just grab Macaques' hands, hold them tight, and give a chuckle.
"Hey, when's the last time I broke a promise?" Macaque sent him a raised brow, unamused. Wukong laughed. "To you! Meanie." He grinned.
Macaque let out an airy laugh, shaking his head. But Wukong would observe and notice the way his brows were still furrowed, shoulders still tenced. But he would ignore it. Pretend it wasn't there. That his friend was happy, and didn't need him to stay. It was a way of trying not to feel the guilt. Of trying to make himself believe that he was doing what was best for him–
Them. This is what was best for both of them.
"Never." Wukong smiled, squeezing his friends' hands. "I promise, when this is all over, we'll do whatever you'd like. For the rest of eternity."
Macaque sighed, rolling his shoudlers and his ears flick a little. And he smiled, soft and rare, but always beautiful whenever Wukong was blessed enough to see it.
"You better keep that promise, oh great monkey king." He grinned, knowing Wukong hated when he would tease him like that.
"Aw, c'mon! Don't be like thaaaat!" Wukong groaned, wrapping an arm around Macaques shoulders and pulling him to sit more beside him. Both of them face the dark sky, lit up the moon and the stars.
It was silent. A peaceful, beautiful silence. And after a minute or two, Macaque huffed.
"Don't leave for too long, Wukong..."
Wukong rested his head atop Macaques when he rested his head on his shoudler.
"I won't."
...
"Promise."
.
"You don't understand."
"How am I supposed to understand?! You're leaving again! This isn't a good idea. You have to stop doing this! You've done plenty enough! Even for the brotherhood! Please– Wukong!"
Wukong pulled his arm away, folding them across his chest. It had been a year since his last journey, mission, whatever. Since he promised Mihou a forever of peace. But this, this was the opposite of peace. At the time, Wukong just thought Mihou didn't understand. That he didn't see how good this would be for them.
"Im going, Macaque. I have to."
"No, you don't! Just listen to me–!!"
"Macaque..."
"None of this is necessary. You need to stop messing with the celestial realm! You aren't strong enough to–"
"Stop..." Wukong grit his teeth.
"Just stay here! Stop provoking them! You'll end up getting yourself or someone else killed–!" Mihou grabbed his arm again, his grip unsure and shaking. Wukong snapped, pulling his arm away harshly and snarling.
"Then stay here! I don't care about what you don't want me to do! I'm doing this, whether you like it or not! I don't care what you do! Just stay. Out. Of. My. Way."
Wukong huffed, "Just run off already. You're good at that." A cloud appeared and he jumped on it. Leaving Mihou behind.
Again.
He just left him there. Not bothering to turn back to see his reaction.
(If he did. If he wasn't selfish. He would've seen tears pooling in the six-earred Macaques eyes. He would've heard the broken sob that left his throat.)
.
Then, he would awake in a cold sweat, gripping his chest as it ached and burned from the memories. All of the things he did wrong.
He never should've broken his promise. He should've stopped. He should've stayed. But now there's no going back. There's no fixing the past.
"We're hungry! We're hungry!" The monkeys chirped and basically yelled at him.
Wukong gave them a blank stare, raising a brow, trying to hide his amusement from how annoyed they looked. He knew they knew that they could get food themselves, but ever the influence Wukong is, they are lazy and prefer their kings food. Even though it's the same thing. Must be some mind trick or something that makes it all taste better when it comes from their kings' hands.
Wukong, despite trying to hold it down, let out a chuckle at their antics. His subjects were sneaky tricksters, just like him. It was adorable, to say the least.
"You can't just eat some peaches?"
They all shook their heads. His smile widened, and he tched fondly, rolling his eyes.
"Alright, alright. Since you are all starving! I guess I must go collect some things. What do you all want?"
He got a collection of some saying they wanted berries, others saying bugs, and more saying fruits. He decided he might as well get all. It did require him walking a bit of ways outside the mountain behind the seal he kept up to protect it, but it wouldn't take too long.
"Alright, I'll go." He got an array of chirps of thank you's, and some of the monkeys were jumping in excitement. Their king was just so kind to them!
He groaned as he sat up off his couch, stretching his limbs, rolling his shoulders and arching his back as he relished in the pops and cracks his back and shoulders made.
It was about time he'd get up and go outside again. It's been about a week since he's last left the place. He might as well wander back out every once in a while.
The tribe chirped in goodbye as he sent a wave over his shoulder, tugging a tuff of hair out, he blew on it, letting it form into a bowl, so that way he could put the food inside it instead of holding it all in his hands.
The breeze was nice this morning. A gentle, soft wind blew across his face, cool and the sun warm against his skin and fur. Yet another beautiful day he wouldn't get to truly appreciate.
As he walked down the mountain, past many trees, and finally out of the waterfall, he found some mangos and some peaches, picking a few, he placed them in the bowl.
As he wandered around, picking some fruits and grabbing a handful of berries, he thought about how long it had been since he's been down to see how the mortals were doing. He knows they've built some new things, many impressive stuff since they were just mortals. Yet despite this, they always created the most incredible technology and other things with such little time of life.
He even owned a TV. He never really used it though, only kept it around because the tribe thought it was fascinating until they got board, so he now just keeps it off. He's sure it's dusty by now. Maybe when he gets back home, he should clean up a bit. It's been months since he's last cleaned.
Anyways, he still wondered if he should drop down and visit the city. Maybe walk around. Of course, mortals still told their tales and stories about him, thinking of him as some hero after all these years. So, he would definitely have to hide his identity. Maybe buy a few new clothes too. Or just go as a bird or a bug since the other options seemed like too much of a hassle.
He sighed, stepping over a pile of rocks. He went over and grabbed a few more peaches to add to the bowl again.
Yeah, he figured he should go ahead and visit the mortals today. Just go as a bug or a bird, buy a few things, and come back. Surely buying some stuff would entertain the monkeys, old and young. He'll go once it gets a little later. Maybe around noon.
He hummed to himself as he collected the fruits and berries, walking further down near a riverbank. He let his body take autopilot, just mindlessly walking and letting himself take this moment to relax.
After around maybe an hour, he collected enough food for his tribe, so he began to walk back up the riverbank, passing a few trees and stepping over the rocks again.
As he hummed, his tail lightly brushing against the ground as it swished behind him, he paused, quieting as he heard something.
A soft noise.
Weird. Nothing should be out here. Or at least, nothing should be just running around out here. Most of the animals were still asleep or napping this time of day, early in the morning. The sun had just barely gone up.
He shrugged to himself, choosing to ignore it for now, continuing to grab fruit.
Plopping a few bananas in the bowl for good measure, he turned to begin walking back to Flower Fruit Mountain when he heard it again.
But this time, it was louder. And it sounded like a cry.
Wukong sighed to himself, placing the bowl down on a rock against one of the trees to keep it steady. He turned back to the river, stepping into the water and following the sound, stepping on large stones to keep himself out of the water.
He wondered if maybe a human had accidentally wandered this way and got lost. It's happened before. He had to lead the guy back to the city because the poor guy had just wanted to explore and got lost along the way. It was a long day. It happened around a month ago, so it wouldn't be too surprising if it happened again.
But clearly, that thought was thrown out when he found the source of the cries. He raised a brow at the sight of a small red basket, a blanket covering the top. It was sitting right beside the river.
"Well, this is... odd."
He muttered to himself, stepping to the side where the basket was. He crouched down when he heard more cries come from the basket.
It could be an animal, but the cries were too human to be that of an animal. So, curious to see what was making the cries, he lifted himself on his tail, folding his legs underneath him to keep balance as he reached out and pulled the white blanket out of the way.
Hooking his fingers around the soft blanket, he pulled it back until what he saw made him still for a long moment.
A human child laid in the basket, bundled up in small blankets, fat tears rolling down their face as they sniffled and pouted. The kid had dark brown hair and slightly tanned skin. And tiny hands that wiggled their way out of the blankets bundled around them, reaching up blindly.
Wukongs' thoughts went wild. Who would just leave a child here, and this kid wasn't even old enough to be considered a child! It's more like a baby, an infant, due to just how small he is.
He's heard of stories of parents who couldn't take care of their kids for whatever reasons and would leave them by an orphanage or a random person's house.
Is that why this baby was just left here? In the middle of the forest?
It still didn't make sense. If someone left their infant here, they had to have known that Wukong lived not too far away from it, so they knew it was likely a chance of him finding him. But an even worse thought appeared in his mind.
Had this infants parents just left him here to die?
That thought had his brows furrow.
He glanced back at the little human who was still crying, his eyes now peaking open, slowly blinking as if to adjust to the light above. Wukong watched as the little one slowly stopped crying, his eyes meeting Wukongs.
Odd.
This child's eyes were bright golden. Soft little flutters of purple near the irises, circling those little eyes. What were supposed to be the whites of this child's eyes were pure soft gold.
And then Wukong felt it.
He had sensed it earlier, but he wasn't really paying attention enough to really care. The overwhelming warmth and pure celestial energy. The thrum of magic filled his ears, filling his very being with the knowledge that this child,
This baby–
Wasn't human.
Its celestial power and golden eyes proved that. This tiny, tiny, fragile little thing was made to look human by some array of magic seals that Wukong could feel. It was a strong magic that hid this little ones true appearance.
"What..."
He uttered, eyes now wide with confusion and concern.
His eyes flashed pure gold, searching to see if he could see what type of magic was keeping this kid basically cloaked. All he saw was flowing gold and purple power, magic of two kinds. And blue. Icy, dark blue. Cold and sending shutters of icy chills down his spine.
His eyes snapped closed, and then he opened his eyes back to normal.
That Witch–
Wukong reacted before he could even properly think. He reached down and grabbed the child from the basket, cradling it to his chest with the utmost care as he darted back to the entrance of Flower Fruit Mountain.
His chest felt like it was about to cave in on itself. He felt the lingering cold, like fingers gripping at his arms and trying to pull him back into the lull of ice and darkness–
He couldn't run fast enough.
He spawned a large cloud bellow his feet, shooting off with speed fast enough to destroy some trees that were too close to the lift off.
Bowl of fruit long forgotten, he looked down at the child, seeing the child's hands bunched up, gripping his scarf as it wailed and sobbed in his arms. He quickly moved an arm to hold the back of the infants head, shushing him. His own voice wavering, unsteady, and panting.
"Shh... shh. Don't cry, kiddo..." he hushed, holding up his hand from the infants head to block the wind that felt as if it wanted to rip him apart from how fast he was going.
He felt his energy dwindle. Even though he was physically fine, he couldn't help but feel exhausted. He hasn't used his speed like this in years. Not even against the Bull King.
Or maybe it was from the horror and utter terrifying truth in his veins. Of ice and frost, encasing his very being.
His cloud disappeared, and he landed harshly on the ground bellow, his body curled around the tiny celestial being, he grunted, landing with a harsh thud, his back hitting some stones, knocking the air out of his lungs. He laid there for a while, panting as he peered an eye open to look up at the sun.
He wheezed, his hands flexing around the tiny infant on his chest, wailing and sobbing, probably scared from the flight and from how sudden it was moved. He took a breath.
Panicking wouldn't help. Besides, she was trapped with no way out. But that still left a major question.
How did she place a magic seal on this infant?
Shaking the thought away, he sat up, groaning as his back ached painfully. Thankfully, he would be fine in an hour or so, but still.
He quickly checked the kid for any injuries. And sighed in relief when he saw none. The little one was just scared. Understandable when some stranger picks you up and flies off with you, wind brushing against your face so fast you can't even blink.
He rubbed his free hand against the little ones back.
"Sorry, bud... it's okay, don't cry..." he whispered, feeling his heart tug when the infant gripped his scarf again, trying to nuzzle closer to him, clearly getting some sort of comforting feeling from the immortal.
"There, there..." he sighed, loosening his scarf enough so the child could easily cuddle more into it, wails turning into soft sniffles.
"That's it, buddy... sorry for scaring you..." He adjusted the kid so he was resting on his chest, his left hand holding the kid up by his back, the other patting and rubbing his hair.
He didn't know what he was going to do.
But, he knew one thing.
He couldn't let her do something. Whatever she was planning, whoever put this kid near his mountain, he couldn't let anything happen to this kid.
Not on his watch.
He flinched when he heard an array of chirps and chattering start coming his way. He sighed.
Once the monkeys got to where he was, they were confused to see their kings back towards them, his hair a mess (more so than usual since he didn't really own a brush–), his shirt a bit ripped, and something in his arms. They all chirped in confusion.
That's when Wukong remembered he forgot their food. He groaned, tugging a piece of hair out and sending a clone back out to go get the long-forgotten bowl of fruit for his subjects. He turned his head to them, his slightly panicked expression making some of them come up to him and the others looking at each other, each confused and concerned.
The ones that came up to him put their paws on his arm, chirping quietly in question.
Wukong gave them all the best reassuring smile he could muster.
"Sorry, little guys. I just uh... found something." Wukong turned his body to show what was in his arms.
What greeted them with big, wide eyes was not what they expected at all. A child, roughly two times bigger than their kings hand, stared at them. The child had brown, almost black hair, red cheeks from tears pooling in its golden (slightly purple) eyes, a little chubby face, wearing white pajamas, and two tiny hands that held onto Wukongs scarf and shirt.
They instantly forgot about why their king had taken so long about the food, as most of them ran up, chirping and fawning over the little one. Who just hid his face against Wukongs scarf.
"Aw..." Wukong gently ran his free hand against the infants hair. "It's okay..." he sighed, turning to the little monkeys chirping and pouting since the baby didn't look at them.
"He's just scared. Kinda flew off with him pretty quickly... give him time." Wukong whispered, hushing the baby's soft cries and little whimpers. The monkeys nodded in understanding, the young ones still pouting.
Wukong took this short moment of silence to take a breath and slowly stand up. The tiny thing in his arms wiggled, his tiny hands rubbing at his eyes before looking up at Wukong.
"Ee..." Two tiny hands reached up to feel at Wukongs face, squeezing his nose, feeling his ears, gently tugging at his fur. Wondering who this big stranger was. But he smelled really good. Comforting and warm.
Wukong held his breath as the tiny infant sniffed. He may have looked human, but this was definitely a monkey trait. It was... cute. To say the least. As he was sniffed, he noticed just how small this kid was. Barely twice the size of just one of his hands. And the tiniest little hands and feet that held onto him. The tiny one nuzzled into his shoulder, gripping tuffs of fur.
Just like how the young monkeys of the tribe, newborns, would hold onto their parents for comfort.
His brows furrowed. He groaned, looking up at the sky. He didn't know what he should do.
He didn't know how to even care for a kid, let alone know where to start. How old was the kid? He couldn't be more than a month. In his early years, he'd seen babies this size that were around a month or two old.
He glanced at the sun, watching the clouds. Memorizing their shapes.
The gods were probably laughing at him right now. And especially if she was involved in this, they probably weren't happy. And neither was he.
Turns out he'd have to go down to the city earlier than he planned.
He looked back down at the baby, giving a small grin to the tiny little confused face staring back up at him.
"Alright, bud. I guess you're gonna stay with me for a while until I figure out what's up with you." he said, ruffling the kids' hair.
Wukong inwardly cursed.
What had he just gotten himself into?