CURSES /LMK.

twenty-seven

"So you could stay here," Mk had offered her a home in the upstairs room of the noodle shop. He had informed her that he didn't want Monkey King to know of her presence just yet, given their rocky history. She agreed, expressing her gratitude to Mk for the temporary refuge. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything else," Mk said before departing, leaving her finally alone in the bedroom. The room held a quiet atmosphere, offering her the space to reconcile with the events that had occurred. As she stood there, the weight of her decisions settled upon her, but she refused to let feelings of guilt seep into her soul. Macaque had chosen his path, just as she had chosen hers.

The room seemed to belong to Mk, adorned with posters of the great west on each wall and action figures meticulously arranged. The room felt smaller than it actually was, with her large stature and wings occupying the space. She moved cautiously, careful not to make a sound that could disturb the tranquility of the room. Reaching the bed, she lowered herself onto it with a slow and deliberate movement. The softness of the mattress offered a momentary reprieve. As she laid there, allowing herself to release a breath she had been holding, letting the quiet of the room envelop her. As she closed her eyes, a sense of weariness washed over her. Rest, both physical and emotional, was what she needed now.

She fell asleep and awoke to the sound of crickets chirping in the night, the abundant city outside humming with its own nocturnal activities. It seemed she had been asleep for about two days. As she stirred, she carefully eased herself off the bed, mindful of her movements. Opening the door, she descended the stairs, the quiet of the night embracing her like a comforting shroud. Mk was nowhere to be seen, except for the pig demon who seemed to be engrossed in his own activities. "Hello," she managed to say, her voice breaking the silence, though Pigsy merely huffed in response. There was an odd sense of discomfort, but she found comfort in the fact that she was in the company of a demon rather than a human. "What is your name?" she inquired, standing by the steps, her wings tucked in comfortably. "Pigsy," he replied, keeping his attention on the mixture of herbs he was adding to his broth. The atmosphere carried an awkward silence as he continued his culinary preparations. Tomorrow's plan seemed to involve training in a desert, and  Mk had suggested a hearty meal to fortify themselves for the journey.

"My name is-" she began, but Pigsy abruptly cut her short by slamming the bowl he was mixing onto the countertop. For the first time, he made direct eye contact with her. "I know who you are, Mistress (Y/N)," he declared, displeasure evident in his tone. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the weight of the demon's disapproval. It had been a long time since she had interacted with lower demons, having spent much of her eternity in a secluded forest. Her recent experiences with Macaque had also limited her interactions with others.

"Listen, whatever you've been feedin' Mk, I don't believe it. He may be naive, but I ain't," Pigsy huffed, making his skepticism clear. Before she could respond, he silenced her once again. "You helped the guy we hate destroy our city and helped him take Mk's powers. You think you can waltz in here and pretend like it didn't happen hm," he rambled, his words carrying a mix of anger and resentment. "I do not expect you to forgive me; your hospitality has been enough," she stated calmly, acknowledging the gravity of her past actions.

He scoffed, continuing to cut vegetables and aggressively placing them into his pot. Her presence seemed to irritate him, evident in the forceful manner with which he handled the ingredients. "Pigsy, Mk helped me. He is the last person I would have expected to aid and forgive me. I am not..." She looked away, a pained expression crossing her face. "I am not deserving of his kindness," she admitted, her voice carrying the weight of regret. She pressed on, determined to convey her thoughts. "I know what I have done is unforgivable, and I do not seek absolution. But I am here to make amends, to find a way to set things right. If you cannot find it in yourself to trust me, I understand," she spoke with a sincerity that resonated in the air.