This Bond we Share

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"You play the violin," MK had gestured to the case settled across Xiaotian's kitchen table. It had been an hour after the Monkey King and Peng had left, the two boys collapsed on the couch in Xiaotian's apartment to gather their thoughts. After panic texting their friends the news, both had resolved to take a few moments to bask in the pure luck they seemed to have from the encounter.

There were so many questions in MK's mind, yet he couldn't seem to vocalize a single one. The Monkey King- THE ONE AND ONLY. He was thrilled, pissed, nervous all at once. The man that had been his idol had stood before him in the flesh, even seemed interested in him- gave him some tips! All everything MK wanted.

But he was also the man that had hurt Xiaotian. He understood parents and kids sometimes fought of course. Sometimes Pigsy and him argued over little things, but... he never once doubted that Pigsy would believe him. That he could turn to Pigsy when he was at his weakest point, desperately needing someone to understand.

So it was bittersweet.

He wanted to know Xiaotian's thoughts, especially since his emotions seemed a jumbled mess at the appearance of his Father. Yet, he felt it would be too delicate of a manner. So instead, he focused on something else.

MK had gathered himself to his feet, going to fetch himself a snack from Xiaotian's pantry for the road before he headed back home, noticing what he hadn't before; a violin.

"Of sorts," Xiaotian deflected with a modest shrug, his eyes skirting over to the worn, mahogany violin case.

MK's fingers brushed against the worn leather handle. He frowned at his other half's dismissive response. "We don't carry things that are 'of sorts' with us. Not unless they mean something." he stepped closer to the table.

"Hmm well.. It's definitely something, I suppose." Xiaotian agreed. He hadn't found the courage to play it since he left home.

He often used it as a way to avoid his own life, but now playing it felt odd since he no longer needed an escape. It had felt wrong to leave without it.

MK's hand paused for a moment before he flipped open the clasps and lifted the lid. The worn velvet lining cradled a gleaming violin, its polished wood reflecting the soft kitchen light. Its strings, visibly well-tuned and cared for, hinted at a relationship far deeper than Xiaotian was willing to admit.

"It's beautiful," MK murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of the instrument with an almost reverent touch. What art was to him, was that what music was to Xiaotian? "I would love to hear you play."

Xiaotian angled his head back from where he rested on the couch, peeking in an upside down angle at MK. "I've never played for anyone but Red Son and my parents," he says. To put himself back into that space felt like an invitation to a moment he no longer wanted to be in. It was a bitter sensation, that something he used to love was a sour reminder now. "I don't think I'm ready to," his gaze drifted.

Knowing that feeling better than he could describe, MK left the case open. "I learned a bit of percussions myself." MK patted the table, "Drums, to be specific~" He knocked out a quick rhythm against the tabletop with his knuckles, an impromptu solo that echoed.

Xiaotian watched him curiously, expressions flickering over his face. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "We could be a band." he mused.

"Oh dude, don't say that," MK says, his voice light and playful. "I'll want that if you say it. Mei can play the Guzheng."

Xiaotian curled his lips, sitting back up on the couch, "Didn't expect that."
"Her Grandpa taught her," MK waved it off. Xoaotian nodded, as that made sense coming from Ao Lie. MK's gaze ventured around the room, as he pictured the layout of their hypothetical band. "Red Son can be on vocals!" he declared, a twinkle in his eye. Xiaotian snorted at the thought; Red Son's deep, growly voice singing melodies was something to laugh about. And think about- and wonder about..

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