The quiet rumbling of thunder outside drew him from sleep.
Kung Jin gave a subtle groan at the sudden awakening, and reluctantly pushed himself up from the bed- one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he did so. The ever familiar ache of pain throbbed throughout his body, as healing ribs and torn muscles strained with every movement.
It hurt to sit up, let alone get to his feet, but it was doable.
His bones made a chorus of crunching noises as he settled his weight on his legs- forcing him to still long enough to catch his breath.
The darkness of the room seemed to mirror the black clouds that gathered together outside of his propped open windows; their open shutters rattled slightly with the brief wind that blew in, bringing in a cold chill. Normally he preferred weather like this; the dark, quiet atmosphere that was easy to disappear into. But behind rolling clouds, and whistling winds... there was something else stirring.
Something that carried itself in on the lightning that flashed on the horizon.
Slowly redressing, he tried to ignore how the faint candlelight seemed to bring memories to the faint bruises and cuts on his still healing skin. He tried to ignore how the cold breeze made his formerly broken bones ache inside of his body- how it made the barbed scars on the inside of his chest hurt with every breath. Fingers carefully pulled his long, silk-black hair back into its tight tail, causing it to brush well past the base of his neck; thick strands covering the hardened tissue that was stretching itself across once broken skin.
Fingertips brushed against the bruises that were visible between the openings of his uniform, trying to ignore the spotted hints of yellow and purple. They weren't exactly pleasant to look at, but... three weeks ago, they had been even worse; blackened spots of broken tissue and veins; pockets of blood building pressure underneath bruised organs- reminding him of nights spent puking up blood.
Stepping out of his room, Kung Jin stopped long enough to listen to the silence that filled the temple.
Asides from the storm rolling in on the horizon, with the purring thunder, and whispering winds, there were no other noises.
It was just the two of them here- for now.
... Which was a nice break from all the chaos that had filled the weeks behind him.
A nice break from the non-stop hustling of the Special Forces base, as well as the Jinsei and Shaolin temple; a nice break from the arguments that tried- and failed- to be quiet behind closed doors. An escape from hospital visits and uncomfortable beds- as well as the uncomfortable chairs and benches in the waiting room.
A nice escape from all the bad news that was cultivating on the surface world.
The Wind Temple consisted of mostly courtyards and platforms that overlooked the circulating clouds around and below them. The courtyards floated around on their own accord, shifting directions from time to time- sometimes raising and lowering themselves, so they were always in a different position every morning. The temple did consist of a few buildings, but mostly just personal bedrooms and archives used to store documents and a few rare artifacts. It's main purpose was to watch and observe the surface world without directly interfering; it was a place of solitude and peace.
Or at least, it used to be.
Stepping out onto one of the many courtyards, he paused slightly as he noticed Fujin standing at the far end of it- rather dangerously close to the fatal drop on the other side of the edge. A strong gust of wind could've pushed him off had he not had the power over it.
Still, such power did not stop the Wind God's long, white braid from being manipulated by the wind regardless; it was batted around wildly behind him.
Then again, his own black strands were being blown around by the wind as well- whipping wildly into his face before he used one hand to brush the loose hair aside.
Fujin was looking straight into the oncoming storm clouds that were rolling in towards them- seemingly stuck in slow motion for now, but certainly not for long. The dark clouds were turning black as brief bolts of lighting inside of them lit them up- creating a momentary blaze across the sky.
It felt like he was walking towards Armageddon as he made his way towards the God.
The white-haired man turned at his approach; his pupil-less eyes glowing white for a few seconds before they settled on him. A brief smile found its way to his lips and his tense body relaxed. "Good morning, Jin. Did you sleep well?"
"Well enough," he answered- simplest at that, before he nodded towards the dark horizon. "Storm's still rolling in, I see."
After the long, bloody ordeal with Shinnok, Earthrealm itself was left in somewhat of an unstable state. Not so much due to Shinnok's attempted corruption, but... rather Raiden's. Despite his weakened state, the Thunder God was still able to cleanse the Jinsei Chamber of Shinnok's dark energy, but not without it taking a heavy toll on him- both physically and mentally.
By absorbing the pure, corrupted energy, Raiden himself, guardian of Earthrealm, became corrupted as well.
His energy was chaotic and unforgiving- summoning storms all across Earthrealm without control.
Fujin was able to calm the storms to some, small degree, but there was little else that he could do- little else that anyone could do really. The Thunder God was in a comatose state for the time being; his body wounded and exhausted beyond repair, even as the dark energy cultivated underneath his skin. Even Master Bo Rai Cho, who was currently looking after him, was using any spell, or charm he could to lessen the escaping energy- to little avail though.
... Even the Wind Temple was not safe from the corrupted energy, which sparked streaks of red lightning across the sky.
"Despite my best abilities, there does not appear to be anything that I can do to stop it," Fujin replied, giving a heavy sigh as he looked back to the dark clouds once more. "We have no choice but to wait for my brother to regain consciousness- and hope that he is better able to control himself."
"It might be best to just... let it happen," Kung Jin offered. "No use in killing yourself trying to stop it."
It seemed to kill the man enough to give up on an already losing battle, but he gave a subtle nod. "I suppose so," he agreed, before he turned his attention back to him. "How are you feeling?"
A change of topic, not unusual.
"Better," he answered, resisting the urge to touch at his neck once more. He could still feel those hands wrapped around it- fingers against his throat, thumbs pressing hard against the back of his skull; he could still hear what might've been a pop as his head was jerked sharply to one side. The resulting flood of darkness, and the sound alone left cold chills down his spine. "A little sore still, but everything is healing- or at least, has healed up for the most part. I'm just glad I'm not tracking blood everywhere I go anymore."
"You did take quite a beating-" Fujin started, before he stiffened slightly as he caught his own words. "... Sorry."
Kung Jin spared the man with a brief, quiet laugh, and waved the comment off. "No, no, you're right, after all," he insisted. "The first time was unfair though, and the second time was... well, we were outnumbered and outmatched; we still pulled through- abet a bit too close for comfort. At the very least though, you have to admit that I am looking better now. No more blood bags, or IV lines."
The first time was against Kotal Kahn, just after he broke the Reiko Accords after obtaining Shinnok's amulet for himself. He had their team imprisoned almost immediately, but they... well, they tried not to go down without a fight. The four of them, Cassie, Jacqui, Takeda, and himself, managed to break loose from the guards, but didn't anticipate more Osh-Tekk to be out in the camp- which looking back on it now, should've been a given.
Despite sheer panic, and giving the battle everything they had, the four of them just ended up getting beaten into bloody messes. He didn't think he'd forget the scattered sounds of everyone screaming as they were all dragged to the ground one by one; the screams of getting kicked and stomped by four, maybe five Osh-Tekk at once. One of them even managed to dislocate Takeda's shoulder, while another tore the skin off of Cassie's cheek.
Jacqui put up the most fight out of the four of them- killing two Osh-Tekk, and taking a shot at Kotal Kahn himself before she was knocked completely unconscious. She had to be carried off to the prison cells, while the three of them were mostly dragged there.
And the stagnant air of the prison cells was even harder to breath in with a broken nose and a bruised lung full of blood.
The second time was at the Jinsei Temple, going in against the Revenant and eventually Shinnok himself. They barely survived the Revenant, with both Jacqui and Takeda taking crippling injuries- and then further injuries in their attempts to hold back Sindel and Kitana, while he and Cassie went into the temple.
It was even worse inside.
He was eventually downed by D'Vorah when she pierced him with one of her weird, extra appendages; the poison laced stinger knocked him unconscious as soon as he hit the ground.
After that, things were a haze of hospital stays and blood transfusions.
Of long nights spent in the bathroom, puking up blood every time his body was strong enough to urge his muscles to contract.
A haze of waiting in the lobby to hear back the results of a test, or a surgery.
Fujin offered what sounded like a nervous chuckle, still looking as though he heavily regretted his previous word choices. "Come, we should head inside then- the rain will be upon us soon enough."
Kung Jin nodded and started back towards one of the buildings- trying to ignore the sharp crack of lighting in the distance.
It was late when he finally got back home.
Most of the household was already asleep- thankfully. It made it easier for him to sneak back in without getting caught- and without anyone in the family realizing that he had been gone for most of the night anyways. Not that they normally caught him whenever he snuck out, let alone back in. But a few times before, someone just happened to be taking a midnight walk after a bad dream and stumbled across him. And considering the night that he had had, he really didn't want to have to sit through one of his father's lecture about the family- or whatever it was he dragged on about.
Pulling back his dark hood, Kung Jin let it fall around his neck as he made his way down the narrow corridor- thinking of nothing else but finally getting into bed and sleeping this night off. He had stayed out later than usual, mostly by accident, but now his body ached to get some sleep.
Bypassing one of the outdoor archways, he paused as he caught something in the corner of his eye, before he slowly backtracked; his attention caught on the figure he barely spotted standing outside. The archway lead out into a private courtyard where... the family memorial to Kung Lao was. It was a single, large white pillar that was almost a full story in height; black and gold runes were carved over the four sides of it, detailing the former Champion's life, and eventual end.
Hardly anyone in the family went out to look at it.
And the only person he had ever seen out there was... Lord Raiden on a few occasions.
Kung Jin felt that familiar sense of anger stir inside of him at the thought- hell, just the sight of the Thunder God left a churning feeling in his stomach.
...
The God had no right to seek pity when he was the one who not only brought forth Kung Lao's death, but Lui Kang's as well. He had no right to seek pity when he was the one who fucked up, and did nothing to try and fix it.
And yet, his family still trusted the Thunder God- still praised him, and brought him gifts even when they themselves were struggling.
It was just easier for him to go out of his way to avoid Lord Raiden- which was one of the reasons he was always coming home at such a late time. Not to say that Lord Raiden visited all too often, but he never wanted to take his chance at running into him. He had already done so the week before, and he wasn't looking to repeat the conversation.
... But a second look to the man outside proved him wrong.
"Lord Fujin?" Kung Jin questioned, as he slowly stepped out into the open courtyard with the man. He was still a little uncertain of the man's identity- even though he well-recognized the white braid that fell across his back. It just... wasn't often that the Wind God came around.
The man turned at the call, and studied him for a second before he offered a brief smile. "Jin, I hope I didn't wake you. I know it's late, but- wait, are you just getting in?"
Shit.
"Uh... no," he started, although he knew well that Fujin would see right through his lie. Then again, it wasn't like he was really trying to sell it all that well. "What are you doing here? You're rarely around now and days."
It might've been months, maybe almost a year, since he had last seen the Wind God- and even then, his visit might've been for a few minutes at most. While Lord Raiden dealt with the Special Forces, and the tasks of handling Earthrealm; Lord Fujin's duty stayed just within the Sky Temple- handling whatever it was that was there. Or at least, that's where he thought the Wind God stayed; the man could've been anywhere else for all he knew.
"Yes, I... the temple requires quite a bit of supervision, and there's personal work that keeps me busy- mostly watching after Master Bo' Rai Cho. But you are correct, it has been far too long," Fujin answered, before he looked back to the pillar in front of him; his entire body visibly heavy at the sight of it. "I was feeling homesick for my friend, and... felt the need to visit and pay my respects." he paused slightly; his fingers touching at the pillar- gently tracing out some of the carved runes.
Kung Jin watched the man gently interact with the memorial, and took note of the heaviness in his features.
It was common knowledge that, between the two elemental Gods, the Wind God was far more relaxed than his brother. He was hardly seen with a scowl, which was a common trademark of the Thunder God. Then again, Fujin was hardly seen as much as Raiden, so it was difficult to make an honest comparison between them. But whenever the Wind God was around, he always seemed to be in good spirits.
So, seeing the man with such a heavy look of burden was something new- something difficult to comprehend.
"You alright?" Kung Jin asked; his own voice slow and cautious.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you. I just... guilt is the hardest to overcome, and the passing decades have worn heavy on me."
Even his words shook with a sense of heaviness that couldn't be described.
Kung Jin hesitated with moving closer; he didn't want to break the God's sense of privacy and vulnerability on the matter- and yet, he found himself stepping forward anyways. It didn't take long before he was standing next to the man; it didn't take much to notice Fujin's tired look, and the thin sense of concentration he had on the pillar. It was almost as though he was seeing and reliving all of the memories that were carved underneath his fingertips.
"I should've done more," Fujin continued. "I should've tried to stop what was happening, or at least tried to intervene- something, anything." he paused once more, letting his fingers trail down along the memorial stone. "It's so hard to look back on it all, and think of what could've been done... and know that you did nothing."
The words hit hard- leaving behind a sense of emptiness that seemed to echo in the Wind God's tone.
... He had never heard Raiden admit to such a thing.
As if the Thunder God would ever admit that he was wrong about something.
"But you don't want to listen to the ramblings of an old, unwise man," Fujin spoke, as he turned back to him- his demeanor shifting completely. Perhaps out of necessity. Out of no longer wanting to worry, or risk dragging him down into the same pit that the God was in. "Raiden tells me you may join the ranks of the Shaolin."
Double shit.
"I... yeah, I'm still debating on it," Kung Jin admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.
"You would fit in well," Fujin assured. "The blood of the Shaolin runs in your family.
He hesitated, tugging on the crumbled fold of his hood now at the words.
He had considered the offer before, and while it seemed to be the kind of guiding light that he needed in his life... He had yet to convince himself that they would actually accept him. Every time he so much as thought about it, it just left a sick, sinking feeling in his chest. "I just... I'm not sure if I'll fit in as well as everyone thinks I will. I mean, I have a lot to live up to if I do it."
"Worry not," Fujin replied, "you will make a path for your own name in due time."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Kung Jin spoke, as he lightly punched the Wind God on the arm. "I'll keep that in mind."
Fujin laughed in response, before he punched him in return. "When you make your decision, let me know, alright? In due time, with proper training, you could join the White Lotus as well."
"Let's start with boot camp first, and go from there."
It didn't take long for the storm to finally roll in.
The moment Fujin stopped his attempts to control it, it came at them with the full fury of a corrupted God.
The two of them were barely inside- barely had the doors closed before the rain poured down onto the stone rooftop; it sounded like bullets hitting the walls, bouncing and echoing all around the building. The sound was impossible to ignore. It left a hollow throbbing sensation in his chest that he couldn't quite understand- or at least, one he didn't want to come to terms with just yet.
Every howl of wind could be heard pounding away at the sealed window shutters and doors; a far cry from the subtle rattling that the cold, morning breeze had made before. The wind chimes that hung on the corners of every roof sounded like they were screaming as the heavy winds battered them around mercilessly.
It made his breath choke inside of his throat.
Every roar of thunder seemed to vibrate in the floors and walls- making threats of collapsing the building down on top of them while they were trapped inside. It rattled in his ribs and in his bones- almost made his teeth chatter against themselves.
He couldn't recall a time he had ever heard, let alone witnessed, such a storm.
Nothing short of the Jinsei corruption anyways.
Bleeding red vortexes swallowing blue skies.
... He'd rather not think on it.
"I haven't seen such a storm like this since Shao Kahn's take of Edenia," Fujin spoke, half-seated at one of the window sills; fingers had partly pulled one of the shutters opened enough for him to peer outside. And he hardly reacted to the sharp rain that rushed in- hitting his skin like needles and stones. "The death of Queen Sindel hit Raiden hard- harder than he would ever admit. We had storms for a solid month before he finally calmed."
Kung Jin looked up from the faint candlelight in front of him, and watched as Fujin continued to peer out into the oncoming eye of the storm. And he humored himself with the theory that that was why the God's eyes were depleted of color and pupils. Look into the eye of the storm, the eye of the devil, and it would erase everything. "Any idea of when this one might end?" he questioned, speaking through unsettled nerves that refused to calm through meditative breaths.
"There is no telling. Raiden is... not the person he should be- that he needs to be right now," Fujin answered. "I will give him some more time, but if I have to intervene on this, than I will."
He knew such intervention would not be easy for the Wind God- but at the same time, it was not an easy choice for him to make either.
He couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of destruction that was going on down below, on the surface world. Hell, he could only imagine how the SF base was functioning- or, rather not functioning. General Blade probably had everyone locked up in the emergency bunkers for the time being- hoping to wait out the storm.
"You have a lot on your plate," Kung Jin remarked.
"Yes, but... this is not the first time this has occurred," Fujin reminded, before he pushed the shutter closed and got to his feet. He seemed to pause a moment, perhaps praying to the storm, before he turned and walked back to him. The room was small, and served as a general common area for those few guest who were permitted to stay at the Wind Temple; which meant that it wasn't used often, and was devoid of most furniture, or decoration. The center of the room provided a small, square sitting area which had been cut out of the flooring, and had a single step that lead down into it.
During the cold months, a kotatsu table was placed in the center to provide warmth.
But for now, a normal, low-sitting table provided a lantern and several candles to keep the room from disappearing into total darkness.
He watched as the man stepped down into the sitting area with him, before he sat down close by.
"Let us talk about something far less... dire. This subject is not good for my health, and we have enough weather-related issues as it is. We cannot afford to add anything else to this mess."
Kung Jin chuckled lightly at the remark, and watched as the light of the candles caught the white glow of Fujin's eyes- spreading an orange-like hue against his features. It was weirdly mesmerizing, but highlighted the dark rings underneath his eyes just the same. "Well, as entertaining as it is to hear you recite the entire White Lotus history from memory... I'd much rather not hear it again- if you don't mind."
"Then there is very little conversation to be had here," Fujin replied with his own laugh. It was light, and full-hearted; a genuine sound sparked from his lips. He turned and set those glowing white eyes on him- the corners of his light smile faltering just slightly. "... Are you certain you're alright?"
He guessed it wasn't difficult to see his nerves pulsating with the storm.
"I'm fine; I promise," Kung Jin assured anyways. "I stayed a week in the hospital, and still had to go back periodically those following weeks too. This is the first time I've had a quiet place to relax and... properly get a handle on everything that happened. I'm just trying to savor the peace of it while I can."
If his answer did anything to relax the God's concern over him, it didn't show.
"And you're certain you're not in any pain?"
"I told you, no," he reminded, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck subconsciously- picking at the scar tissue. "Just... a few aches here and there, nothing serious- nothing more than just trying to get back into the feeling of my body again."
He didn't want to be entirely untruthful to the God.
Fujin went silent this time, although his eyes remained settled on him- as though seeing and hearing every time his body protested the smallest of movements. "I was worried... for a long time about you."
"I know you were," Kung Jin nodded, managing a quiet, brisk laugh under his breath. "You kept waking me up every time I fell asleep just to make sure that I was still breathing right."
"You were so heavily wrapped up- it was hard to tell."
He knew Fujin's concerns were real, and justified- but he still let himself laugh a little at them. Not because it was something humorous to look back on now, but rather... he couldn't fight the man's concerns. He could still remember lying in that hospital bed. His chest so heavily bandaged that sometimes it felt like he couldn't breathe. Thick bandages so tightly wrapped around him that he almost feared falling asleep- thinking he would stop breathing in the middle of the night. It was pathetic.
And despite a cocktail of painkillers making up most of his blood count, he remembered feeling the thick tube inside of his chest; the one that had been forced into the open wound D'Vorah had left in him- draining out the poison that still remained in his system. He still remembered the overwhelming sickness of having his blood partly drained because of the damages the poison had done, before cleaner blood had been put back into him.
An ever rotating circle of IV drips and blood transfusion bags.
After the shit storm they had gone through, the team looked pretty pathetic in the aftermath. They could laugh at themselves about it now- teasing one another about the broken bones and how the medicine had made them sick. But three weeks ago, it had been hell- and the furtherest thing from a laughing matter.
"Can we not talk about this?" Kung Jin started. "I just... I've had to have this same conversation enough times already; I'd like to have just one place where I don't have to think about what happened back there."
Where he didn't have to think about how, as a team, they barely managed to escape from the Osh-Tekk twice with their lives. Once in Outworld, and once in the frozen forest outside the Jinsei Temple. Where he didn't have to think about the snow turning red with blood when Cassie packed it against her arm- nearly stripped of skin and down to tendons. Where he didn't have to think about the smell of acid, or burning skin as Takeda barely escaped with his sight- barely avoiding a fate similar to that of his father's. Where he didn't have to think about Jacqui and the crunching sound her ribs made with every movement- forcing blood up through her lips and down her chin.
"Just like you don't want to talk about the storms, I don't want to talk about... any of this," he continued, as he made a vague gesture to the faint healing spots of yellow and purple that were splattered across his skin still.
Fujin didn't fight him on that front.
"So what does that leave us then?"
Kung Jin offered a slight shrug. "Not much- if anything," he answered. Any and all current events were still wrapped up in the ordeal with Shinnok- which again, was the furtherest thing he even wanted to think about right now. He felt himself physically flinch as the thunder cracked wildly outside. His mind immediately went racing back to the memories of frozen trees getting blown in half by Cassie's grenades- collapsing them on top of unsuspecting Osh-Tekk; giving them the few seconds they needed to survive the invading siege.
It reminded him again of the red whirlwind of energy above the Jinsei temple.
The heavy atmosphere of the Jinsei chamber itself- as it crackled and howled with dark energy.
He felt a hand brush against his arm in response- no doubt picking up on his battled nerves.
There was a moment of stillness, a moment of testing, before fingers gently trailed down his forearm and down to his wrist. And when he didn't object to the gesture, he felt Fujin pick his hand up, before fingers slowly interlaced with his own.
His grip was loose and subtle against a faintly bruised palm, before fingers gently squeezed with a faint hint of reassurance.
It melted the tension that had settled and stiffened in his body.
"It's really picking up out there," Kung Jin spoke, uncomfortable with the elongated silence, but with little else to provide conversation with.
"It's only starting," Fujin reminded.
"... Perfect."