A//N: Tala/Kevin. Weird, right? I know. But I had to do it. I don't even really know why. Dedicated to all the authoresses/authors that have done awesome by Kev, especially xChewy. I give ya'll all due props. I call him Kiki sometimes in this- I believe that's his name in the non-dubbed version. I apologize if I'm wrong. Well, here you go then. Enjoy.
THE MONKEY KING
It is said that in ancient times there was a magic rock on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. The rock had been favored the elements of nature for millions of years. Then, one day, suddenly, it burst open, giving birth to a stone egg from which a stone monkey emerged…
-from 'Journey to the West'
Kevin tightened his bandana.
The familiar sensation of cloth covering his face from the nose down calmed him, making it easier for him to concentrate on the task at hand. This particular alley was too narrow for his comfort, and the left wall of the passageway had windows set less than a foot above his head. Not good.
Unwilling to be caught and unwilling to abandon his attempt, he edged along the left wall, his bag bumping lightly against his thigh as rough brick and caught on his clothes and skin. He ignored it, instead mentally reviewing what he had planned.
It was as dark as a city, a place full of lights, would ever get- he needed it to hide him while he did this. He glanced at the sky above him, the single dark trip of celadon trapped between two flanks of blackness.
He couldn't see the moon.
Seconds, hours, days, forever- as if in a dream, time lost definition for him, lost in the slow process of moving forward another step without being seen, without being heard. Reaching the point where the alley ended was like waking up, his heart beating faster, cognitive thought and action reconnecting with a snap.
Still hidden in the dark eaves of the alley, he observed the scene- he couldn't get caught.
Never get caught, Kiki.
It didn't seem likely- his destination was desolate. There was nothing but a large, smooth cement wall, about two stories in height and running perpendicular to the hall of the alley. To the left and right of the wall, two spindly paths ran along the rocky ground until they were devoured by shadow- two good escape routes, should he need them.
However far away, however close, the sounds of cars and people and subway trains all seemed to intensify. The scratch of every rat and the flutter of every moth seemed to heighten and pour into him, overwhelming him- but at the same time he felt removed from it all. Above it, somehow.
The moon shone above him, providing just enough light. His eyes glittered like shards of amethyst in its glow, and the ponytail of his dark green hair seemed black. Kevin reached into his bag, pulled out the first spray can, and tightened his bandana.
Rei played the flute, sometimes.
It was a little metal thing his uncle had given him when he was little, and he'd taught himself how to play it over the years. He doesn't like to do it in front of anybody, Kevin knows, but every now and then he can convince his friend to play for him, and the sounds seem to pour from him like rain from the sky.
When he played, it was like he exhaled it- like he was using the flute to (speak, breath, pour?) some incredible language that Kevin could never understand.
He didn't play the flute, didn't ever intend to. But the colors flowed from him- the shades, the shapes, the contours and patterns- all of it. It all flooded out. The strong smell of the paint penetrated the fabric of the bandana, sharp and familiar. Underneath the fabric, Kevin felt himself smile.
He was turning the surface of he wall into chaos with center.
A flaming serpent bearing a dripping crimson apple in its mouth served as the centerpiece, twisting and twining with various other images- a host of subtle and bold contrasts scattered across the wall. Two demonic eyes lurked within a puddle of black ink under the serpent's head- a cloud of little moths swarmed around a taijitu, the ying yang symbol, nestled in the curve of the snake's tail.
Fire danced here, water crashed there. A single tiger claw broke free from thick vines here, and the contours of a mouth, in stark black on white, laughed there with a joy unnamed- it all poured from him as he labored, focus unwavering, in the nocturnal stillness.
He wanted this to last forever.
Still, he found himself taking a few steps back to peer at what he'd done, knowing it was coming to an end. The figure of the serpent reigned supreme on the once vacant stone expanse, but around it, fragmented, random images rendered the beauty of disorder.
Kevin padded over to a small corner of the wall untouched by paint and pulled out a few cans. With ease and speed acquired from much practice, he added the last touch- his calling card. A monkey's face painted white and red with a circular golden band across the forehead- and the letters MK.
MK, for the Monkey King.
He smirked, finishing the letters with a flair- then he heard it. Rocks crunching under feet that were not his own.
He dropped the can and ran, dashing over to the right, not turning to look back when he heard a curse ring out and saw the bright beam of a flashlight swing wildly through the darkness.
'Get back here, punk!'
'Hey, stop right there!'
Two voices. Two cops.
He pumped his legs harder, plummeting through shadows past a blur of wire fences, cement stair ways and locked doors. He darted past the filthy sleeping bodies of the homeless, past broken glass and dumpsters. Kevin was aware that they were chasing him, but he was too fast for them.
At least, that's what he thought until he heard that dry little pop and felt the bullet pound into him.
Pain flared up his arm and he stumbled, gasping in shock and pain. He didn't stop running. He felt his arm for blood, frowning under his bandana in confusion when he realized the limb was dry.
Then the crackly voice of a news anchor on his radio flashed through his head, announcing in a self important monotone that the city's police department had recently received a supply of nonlethal weapons to be used against petty criminals.
Kevin could have groaned.
He heard another pop, and felt something whiz past his left eye. He couldn't get caught, and if they got his legs, he was through. He skidded left into an alley, the thudding of the cops' feet behind him loud in his ears.
The passage split into two directions- the left led to a large dumpster in front of a high wooden fence, and the other twisted off into more sideways and byways. This was his chance.
He halted briefly and scooped up a rock before sprinting over to the dumpster. He leapt on top of it, biting his lip at the soft sound it made. He waited until the harsh beam of the flashlight hit the wall next to him before he hurled the rock in the opposite direction, where the alley split into the winding passages of the right.
The beam swung in that direction, away from him. Kevin seized his chance and hopped silently over the tall edge of the fence, not caring
what was beyond it.
He landed in a tangle of weeds, where he crouched down, absolutely still- on the other side of the fence, he could hear the footfalls of the cops following his false trail. He waited until he couldn't hear them anymore before he laughed. He felt his arm.
It was sore enough to make him sick to his stomach- but he was okay. He still had all of his paint except for that one can, and his bandana was still firmly tied around his face- he pulled it down, taking in a deep breath of air before pulling the cloth back up.
Looking around, he saw he was in a large yard behind what looked to be a small, renovated warehouse. Two abandoned buildings closed in the two other sides, leaving the fence and the building itself as the only way in and out- and the fence was pretty high. There wasn't a dumpster here to give him a boost, but he'd just have to try.
Kevin slowly rose from his crouched position against the fence and stepped back a few feet, mulling over how he was going to do this.
He heard a growl.
He twisted around just in time to see a mass of white and grey and teeth, teeth, teeth- heaving itself into the air. He crossed his face with his arms and screamed when he felt the ivory bone sink itself into his flesh.
He tried to get it off of him, tried to run, but it was clawing and the teeth were in so deep and fuck it hurt, it hurt so much- suddenly the thing had him on the ground, and it kept going for his neck, and he could hear himself screaming, but he couldn't stop. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt-
The last thing he remembered thinking was that that he'd get caught if he couldn't make himself stop screaming, but it hurt so much-
Never get caught, Kiki.
He'd lost all sense of time again. Where was he? Maybe he was still in the alley- edging along, edging along. He couldn't let himself be see, couldn't let himself be caught. It was dark here, after all. Here… where was here?
Suddenly he remembered the flashlight, the panic, the chase- the feeling of being hunted like a dog… Kevin's eyes shot open, his left arm flying up to his throat. The skin there was covered, though, wrapped in something that wasn't his bandana.
He was lying down, on either a couch or a futon. There was a light on, somewhere, but it was pretty dim. Where was he? With a sinking feeling he realized that his hoodie and undershirt were both gone- replaced by what had to be miles of gauze pressing firmly down across the skin on his chest, belly, and collar bone.
He swallowed, and closed his eyes. Very, very slowly, gritting his teeth against the pain, he sat up.
"Lay down, dumbass."
The voice was male, and irritated, and sharp- Kevin jumped.
Pushing through the discomfort, he twisted his head to the side. He was caught off guard.
The owner of the voice glared back at him with eyes that were the ice and cold of winter. He looked to be about his age, with livid red hair that was swept loosely to either side of his head, with the exception of a few rebellious strands that fell past his forehead. Creases and folds in the white fabric of his shirt and the light grey material of his pants cast small shadows all over him, distracting Kevin.
This, Kevin thought, is my killer. Not the police, not the dog, nothing else. It will be him.
His eyes slid out of focus for a moment, and he swallowed. He was breathing too fast. His heart was beating to fast. It hurt. It hurt. He felt something wet seep under his bandages.
The redhead cursed under his breath.
"Lay down, you're making it worse," he snapped, and Kevin saw him reach down to grab something from the floor. A First Aid box. What a caring murderer.
Kevin looked down, and saw in the dim lighting a bulging line of red beginning to emerge from the stark white of his bandages. He felt sick. Was that his? Usually seeing such a vivid color cover any medium was a joy to him, but this was wrong. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.
First Aid box in hand, the other male walked over to the couch to kneel beside him. He pulled out two disposable gloves, a thick roll of gauze that looked as if it'd already seen use, a dark purple bottle, and a few balls of cotton. "Lean back," he ordered.
He complied. He didn't flinch when he felt hands undoing the bandages across his belly, just closed his eyes. It hurt. It hurt and he didn't like to see blood, not his, not anyone's. He felt something damp dabbing at what had to be open wounds, felt the pain pierce him- he didn't make a sound.
He felt sick.
It must have shown, because the redhead began trying to distract him. He kept his eyes shut.
"What's your name?"
"My name," Kevin repeated slowly. The one his parents gave him, the one he was called now, or the one painted on walls and trains? Which name, which name? He wasn't sure he could stay awake, but he felt like maybe he should answer. Another dab- it stung.
"Kevin," he hissed.
"My name is Tala. What the hell were you doing in my backyard, Kevin?"
Kevin opened his eyes a little, catching sight of red hair, the same color his serpent's apple had been. Then he saw a strip of bloodied gauze and snapped his eyes shut again. "Kevin, stay with me, here. What were you doing?"
"Being mauled to death, what do you think?"
"Not what I meant," Tala growled.
"I was just- I was just running away... Are you going to kill me, Tala?"
The redhead paused in his task, clearly surprised. He quickly got over it, resuming the methodical process of applying the new material.
"Tell me, Kevin, how exactly that makes sense. You do realize that I'm the one that dragged your sorry ass away from a horrible, bloody death? That I'm changing out the bandages as we speak?"
Kevin would have shrugged if he could.
"Since when does anything make sense?"
He opened his eyes to see Tala smirking as he worked, the expression curving his mouth sharply in the corner. "You have a point." He sat back, peeling a glove from off of his hand and slipping it into a bag of used bandages that Kevin could only half see. "Now lay down."
He lay down, flat on his back. Tala sat down in front of the couch, near his head. He felt his eyes on him, sharp and unwavering, but he didn't look. "What were you running from, Kevin?" His voice was serious. Kevin didn't answer, and Tala continued.
"Who were you running from? And why? What am I going to find if I open up that bag?" Kevin remained silent, and Tala sighed.
"I saw the bandana around your face, but I didn't call the police. I know that life. I ran with the worst of them- they called me Yuriy, then…" he paused a moment, turning his eyes away to stare at something Kevin couldn't see. He shook his head."The point is, I wouldn't wish jail on my worst enemy. "
Kevin stared as he got up and walked over to the side, heard as he picked something up from a table. His bag was in Tala's hand when he came back.
"What's in here, Kevin?"
"Drugs, knives, and a gun. Kidding. You should have seen your face."
"Kevin," He couldn't help chuckling, even though it hurt some. Tala, however, was clearly not amused.
"Paint. That's all. Art is not a crime, okay?"
Tala dropped back down in front of the couch- he looked almost disappointed. "And here I was expecting the worst," he sighed. Kevin smirked, feeling a bit better now that he was almost sure he wasn't going to be the next body the city morgue had the privilege of dealing with.
"We can't all be as badass as you."
Tala snorted. "Badass? Me? Sorry to disappoint, but that was a long time ago. I'm a vet now." Kevin yawned, and Tala lightly poked his side. "You're not going to sleep again until I'm sure you're going to wake back up." He was silent a moment, glancing at the bandages he'd applied. "You've lost a lot of blood."
Kevin nodded, reluctantly opening his eyes again. "So you're a vet. Used to dealing with roughed up strays, then?"
Tala gave him a look and shook his head."Animals, yes. Humans- no."
He just laughed, gesturing to himself vaguely with his good arm. "Don't you know, Tala? I'm the Monkey King."
Tala raised one eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about?" Kevin laughed again- something about talking to Tala made him do that, he guessed. He replied with a wicked smirk on his face. "Guess you wouldn't know- you don't look Chinese."
Tala frowned. "What are you trying to say?"
"Just listen. Okay... So a long, long time ago, there was this big, magical rock on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. One day the rock cracked, and there was an egg inside. From inside of the egg came a monkey."
Tala shook his head. "This isn't working. You still sound crazy."
"Let me finish then," said Kevin. "Allright, so this monkey found all the other monkeys on the mountain, and he hung out with them for a while. Then they all found this waterfall with a cave behind it, and they agreed that the monkey who was brave enough to jump through the waterfall and into the cave would be their King. The stone monkey was the only one with the balls to do it.
The cave was full of treasure- there was even a throne. So they all threw this big party for him, calling him the Monkey King, a God among all monkeys- So he's sitting on this throne, and he's thinking about how he's not really a god at all. But he wants to be. He wants to be immortal, wants to live forever.
So he decides to do it."
"Do what?"
"Become immortal. And he does. He goes out and learns all this stuff and gets himself these awesome abilities, making mischief, becoming more and more powerful. Eventually he defies the Emperor of Heaven himself, defeats every last one of his 100,000 celestial soldiers and a bunch of other gods, too. It took nothing less than the Buddha to defeat and punish him.
But he never really lost, because he did what he set out to do- he became immortal. He lived forever."
"I still don't get it."
Kevin frowned, annoyed. "You're very blunt, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"It's simple- If you can leave your mark, you become immortal. The Monkey King never really existed, but people are still talking about him, and they always will. When I can cover a wall or something, and it looks really amazing, someone will remember it. Even after I die, they'll still have that memory inside of them, they'll remember that part of me that I left for the world to see. Part of me that lives on even if I'm physically gone- that's immortality. That's what I want, and that's what I'm taking."
He laughed. "And that, Tala, is why I am the Monkey King."
Chilled eyes blinked down at him, and Tala found his mouth curving upwards a bit, even as he shook his head. Kevin couldn't help but watch as a few more crimson strands fell forward with the motion.
"That's almost the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he murmured, "But it makes sense. It really makes sense."
"Nothing makes sense," Kevin muttered, a smirk still on his face. "I know I don't make sense. Back in China my name was Kiki- they all but forced me to change it when I got here. So now I'm Kiki, and Kevin, and the Monkey King- what else am I going to be?"
"Sometimes I ask myself that." Tala yawned, and Kevin watched as he rubbed a hand across his face wearily. His own eyelids felt heavy. Kevin slipped into darkness, his eyes closing gradually and Tala saying nothing.
"So what do Tala and Yuriy want? Do you want to live forever, too?"
Kevin spoke without opening his eyes. Tala smiled. "I'm not sure. I think I want a few things right now. Or maybe just one."
"Are you going to take it?"
Kevin felt something move against the skin of his left hand- fingertips. Tala's fingertips. He slitted one eye open and peered at the redhead, who was looking again at something nobody but he could see. "Maybe," he murmured, his hand slipping over Kevin's.
"You tell me."
Kevin closed his eyes, smiling.
Owari.
Please review- I'd like to know what you think about it.