Reverse

Chapter 9 // Fate

Of all things MK was fearing to find when Monkey King opens the door, it's not his mentor with Macaque held under his arm like a bag of potatoes.

In the minuscule, split second of stunned, awkward silence that follows, MK quickly scans the golden monkey. His mentor’s normally well taken care of hair is a bit of a tangled dress, his clothing has dirt and … is that mushed food on his scarf? MK almost leans closer to inspect, his desire to ensure his teacher is well nearly overriding his apprehension.

…because ever since he’d picked it up, the young man has been hyper aware of the small cardboard box in his arms. It’s sealed shut with ductape, and the shards inside are wrapped in plastic -and yet he feels like he’s handling a live bomb.

A metaphorical bomb at the very least, thrown right into the middle of whatever the hell had been going on between Monkey King and Macaque.

Who turned out to be brothers.

…honestly, repeating it in his head doesn’t make it any better.

No matter how many times he thinks of it, no matter how much he’d muttered it to himself last night in the privacy of his apartment, the shock has yet to fade. Because it makes sense. A frankly terrifying amount of sense. It fits neatly into this messy, confusing puzzle between the Six Eared Macaque and the Monkey King that MK had been carelessly thrown into, finally giving it some semblance of order, something solid that allows MK to gain a foothold and catch a greater glimpse of the situation.

And what he sees isn’t pretty.

It’s painful, messy, and now even more complicated… yet he hopes that by the end of this, he can help them both figure it out. MK’s far too aware he’s a new element thrown in the mix of a conflict several times older than the city he lives in, but even that daunting truth isn’t going to stop him from trying.

Watching his mentor now, catching the way the Sage’s eyes flick down to the box, realization flashing across those golden eyes and rendering them dimmer, heavier, the subconscious way he readjusts his grip on the white monkey dangling from under his arm  -a tighter, more protective hold- MK feels a faint spark of hope in his heart.

Despite everything, there’s a chance to make things right.

Yet-

At the end of today, they will know how exactly this might unfold. If the spell could be unveiled and Macaque can be restored to his normal, grumpy, scheming self -well, that will be good, the right path to take, what needs to be done because Macaque has the right to be an asshole… but also MK is already wondering how exactly he’s going to corral the shadow monkey into sitting still long enough to talk with the Monkey King. At least, without half of Flower Fruit Mountain burning to the ground in the process.

But if it doesn’t work?

if the spell has run its course and there is no way back…?

…it makes his throat grow tight. He doesn’t want to think about this alternative -doesn’t want to consider the fact that if he had just caught the stupid urn before it broke, Macaque wouldn’t…wouldn’t have almost died, wouldn’t have lost who he was.

Happy thoughts, MK thinks somberly as his eyes drift down from his mentor to another set of identical gold. His gaze is drawn to six twitching appendages, fanned out and angled towards him like a set of rabbit ears.

“Hello, ‘uman.” Macaque pipes up, shattering the awkward silence with a single chirp.

MK grins. “Hi.”