Author's notes: so…yeah, here's the epilogue. It feels really odd marking the story as 'complete': in barely a few days it will be one year since when I began writing it from the few lines I had scribbled on a notebook. I would have never thought it would ever get so long and it would take so much time: I usually lose interest in fandoms and characters soon enough, and this was the first time I ever spent a whole year on one single fic…not to mention that I'm planning to write more Monkey Fist fanfics after a year. It had never happened.

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you all enjoyed the read though it does have its flaws (what in the world was I thinking when I made the earlier chapters so darn short? :P). I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and/or faved this story, but I guess I better do it properly after the end of the chapter. So yeah, I'll just stop bothering you and let you read the epilogue for now XD


Seven years later.

Monkey Fist grimaced as he was snapped out of his trance by a pained yelp. He opened his eyes to see that the monkey ninja had gained the upper hand in the fight – which didn't surprise him really. Small as they were, only one monkey ninja wasn't much of a treat for a grown, capable man…but they were powerful opponents for a child, no matter how skilled.

"You're still too slow," he said dryly as he watched his son barely dodge a blow, clearly unable to strike back – the monkey ninja's attacks were too quick for him to react efficiently, Monkey Fist was disappointed to notice.

Michio frowned at the disappointment in his father's voice – there was a reason why Yuki often said that being scolded by his father was like being scolded by God to him. He ducked under a blow and tried to attack the monkey ninja, but he left his side unguarded in the rush to attack, and the only result he got was being flipped onto the ground once again.

Monkey Fist rolled his eyes as he got up and approached them. "Enough," he said to the monkey ninja, who stepped away from the kid on the ground. Michio groaned and sat up – thankfully, the only thing that hurt was his pride…well, and his backside.

He winced a little as Monkey Fist cleared his throat, and he glanced up with a somewhat hopeful grin – he had lasted longer than usual anyway – but he swallowed as he saw him frowning. No, doubted he was about to compliment him for resisting so much: he was most likely about to scold him for losing. Again.

"One would wonder what were you thinking while I tried to teach you how to fight," he said with a scowl, folding his arms "it seems like you're getting clumsier rather than improving. Or maybe you were not trying hard enough?"

"Well…" Michio hesitated, then he was him a sheepish smile as he got up "but I gave him trouble this time, right?" he said, still hoping for him to say something, anything even remotely positive.

Fat chance. "Giving you opponent 'trouble' doesn't make you win a fight," Monkey Fist just remarked "if that's really the best you can do, I'd rather suggest you to just concentrate on your studies. However, if that wasn't your best after all…"

"It wasn't," the boy said quickly "really, I can do better."

"Then I expect you to tell me exactly why you weren't fighting you everything you had," his father said, folding his arms "I'm waiting for an explanation, Michio."

The boy bit his lower lip and shifted uneasily, as if he had been caught stealing. "I'm sorry, father, I was starting to get tired and – "

Monkey Fist raised an eyebrow. "After barely two hours of training? Since when did you get that lazy, boy?"

"Two hours of training are more than enough," a sharp voice came from the doorway, causing both father and son to wince and turn. Yuki stepped forward with a scowl, looking at Monkey Fist "I thought I told you to go easy on him," she added, causing Michio to frown a little.

Did his mother really think he was so weak? He didn't need anyone to go easy on him, of course…but on the other hand, that training was hard, and doing his best was simply never enough. It was frustrating beyond belief – he just wanted his father to be pleased of him. Was it much to ask?

Monkey Fist seemed annoyed, as always when he was questioned in front of his son – he didn't want anyone to discuss his authority in front of the boy. "I am," he protested "but he isn't trying hard enough," he added, glaring at his son. Michio glanced down to the ground.

Yuki sighed and turned to Michio, her gaze softening. "You did enough for today," she said, gently ruffling his black hair "go upstairs and eat something."

The boy nodded a little resentfully, but he gave her a quick thankful glance before rushing upstairs. Yuki knew he would never find the courage to protest and say that no, being tired after two hours of intensive training didn't mean he was lazy: he was too afraid to disappoint his father, eager to please him as he was, and he was only a child.

Sometimes Yuki was a little worried to see how uptight and unsure he was around him: he behaved much more as the child he was and he seemed to have much more self-confidence when Monty wasn't around. His father's personality seemed to be too strong and intimidating for a young boy such as he was.

"You're spoiling him," Monkey Fist muttered, folding his arms as his son left the room "he's behaving like a child lately."

Yuki had to bite back the remark about him being the only one behaving like a spoiled kid. "In case you haven't noticed, he is a child," she pointed out.

"That's not an excuse. When I was his age…"

"…which means in the last century…"

Monkey Fist scowled. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

Yuki ignored him, a grin on her lips. "Is that a grey hair I see?" she mocked, pretending to have spotted something on his head.

"It's not," he replied a little too quickly "as I was saying, when I was his age –"

She scoffed. "Aw, please – when you were his age, you probably had no idea of what martial arts were. I'm sure you thought that Kung-Fu was some kind of exotic food back then."

Monkey Fist frowned, and Yuki knew she had hit a nerve. "That's beside the point – I used to put more effort in what I did when I was a child."

"Oh, really? Well, flash news – Michio is not you, and he wasn't born to be moulded in your image," she said, a bit more sharply than she meant to.

No, he won't be like him. He will always be on the right path, as his name says – just as Sensei wanted. He won't have to suffer like Monty or I did. I'll make sure he won't.

He clenched his jaw. "This is beside the point. He's too slow to learn, and he lacks of dedication – "

"Monty, he's just seven! You can't expect him to spend half of the day training and the other half studying!"

"I doubt he'll ever accomplish much if he doesn't – you can't obtain anything without effort. Besides, he's the one who asked to be taught," Monkey Fist pointed out.

Yuki sighed. "He asked you to teach him how to fight because he wants to make you proud. In case this detail escaped you, he admires you more than you can imagine – and giving him some recognition for his efforts instead of doing your best to destroy his self-esteem would be nice, you know."

"Efforts?" Monkey Fist shrugged "he doesn't even try to get better."

"What?" Yuki stared at him in disbelief "are you blind or what? He's trying his hardest to please you – he always tried his best to please you."

"Well, it doesn't show up – he has potential, I know he does. But he isn't using it."

Yuki gritted her teeth. "For the last time, Monty, he's a child – a good child, and you should be proud of him. He's clever, and you have to admit he's skilled. I've spent most of my life in a school, and I can recognize talent when I see it: give him some years, and he'll become a heck of a fighter – but now let him live his childhood. Your parents weren't so demanding with you, were they?"

Monkey Fist hesitated. Truth to be told, they had never been really demanding, especially not his father. Yes, his mother did expect him to do well in Eton and later in Oxford, but what mother wouldn't? "No," he finally admitted, "they weren't."

Yuki's gaze softened. "He's your son, not one of your monkey ninjas. You're not just his master, you're his father," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder "you should behave more like one sometimes – it would mean the world to Michio. It would mean the world to both of us."

He was about to say something, but he seemed to change his mind and dropped his shoulders – he hated to admit it, but she could be right. "Alright, fine," he grumbled a little "I'll try to be less demanding, if that's what you want."

She couldn't help but grin at his expression. "Hey, no need to pout," she joked, running a hand through his hair "you're not doing such a bad job, you know. He wouldn't admire you as much as he does if you weren't," she added, briefly kissing his lips. He seemed in a better mood as their lips broke apart.

"Well, I suppose…" he paused, then he turned to a few monkey ninjas that were still staring at him, waiting for orders. "What are you looking at?" he asked "get us some tea already!"

Yuki snickered as the monkeys left the dojo. "Nice attempt, but you don't really think that snapping at the monkeys to change subject would work, do you?"

Monkey Fist raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

She grinned and pocked his chest. "I expect you to speak with Michio. Now. No objections allowed."

He looked at her as if she had just suggested him to walk on the water. "What? And what should I say?"

"I don't know, and it doesn't matter as long as you speak with him about something and listen to what he says – without putting any pressure on him. Talk about the weather, about your job, about his favourite book, about bees and flowers…" she paused "no, wait. Let me handle the whole 'bees and flowers' thing when he's a bit older."

Monkey Fist – who, truth to be told, had no absolutely intention to ever speak about anything even vaguely related to 'bees and flowers' with his son – just sighed. "Is it really necessary?"

"Yes," replied, and her voice was enough to tell him she wouldn't accept objections "it is. I'm giving you half an hour to come up with something to tell him aside from your usual 'when I was your age' crap, and possibly something encouraging for a change," she said firmly before turning and leaving the dojo without another word, a smirk on her lips.

She was really curious to see how would he get himself out of that one.


"No, I'm not hungry," Michio muttered with a frown, barely turning his gaze away from the book he was reading as Chippy offered him some more dinner "go away."

The monkey ninja seemed unsure – it was never a good sign when the young master behaved like that. Unlike the master, he never snapped at them or just told them to leave: he usually openly enjoyed their company, and the fact he wanted him to leave and he had barely eaten only added to his worries. Chippy squealed as he climber on the child's bed and sat beside him – he wouldn't have dared to insist with his master, but on the other hand the boy was a whole other matter.

"Yes, it was the training," Michio replied with a frown, still staring at the page – but his eyes were not moving as if reading: he was merely staring one point in the page "I still didn't get better. I did my best, really, but it's never enough, and he said I should drop it if that's all I've got, and…" he gave a frustrated sigh "can't you guys just let me win for once?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I know you've got orders," he mumbled, absentmindedly flipping through the book's pages "nevermind."

Chippy hesitated for a moment, unsure – he should probably leave the young master alone as he had asked, but he didn't like the idea of leaving like that while he seemed so sad. Maybe he should do something to make him feel better…and he knew perfectly what was the easiest way to make it happen.

Michio let out a surprised shriek and as the monkey pinned him down and began tickling him, causing him to squirm and laugh until his ribs nearly hurt. "Chippy, wait – not, stop! Hey, really…!" he gasped between laughters, and as Chippy finally jumped down his stomach and allowed to sit him back up he felt like he had no breath.

"You're one crazy monkey," he muttered, but he was laughing as he grabbed the book again – it had fallen on the ground while he squirmed to break free – and the small smile that lingered on his lips as he began reading again was enough for Chippy to see that the young master had considerably cheered up.


"It was about time," Monkey Fist said with a snort as he took the steaming cup from the tray. His frown faded a little as he sipped some tea, his gaze wandering out of the window. Alright, perhaps – just perhaps – he had been too hard on the boy. Then again, what else was he supposed to do? He knew that most people would be just happy of having a son like him, but it wasn't quite enough for him – he knew Michio could do more, and the fact he wasn't using all his potential was unnerving to say the least.

Yes, but it's not like the way you tried to handle him made things better: if anything, he only got unsure of himself.

He'll get over it. He will understand it is the best for him – I simply want him to do well. It's for his own good.

You're just transferring your aspirations to him, and this is not what's best for him. Yuki could be right; you should try to be more supportive.

I don't support mediocrity.

You know perfectly he's anything but mediocre, and he is still young. You were much older than he is when you began learning Tai Shing Pek Kwar, and don't tell me you forgot how your first training sessions ended up. If I'm not mistaking, you kept limping around for weeks…

That's exactly why he must start training while he's still young.

How can you expect to become much of a ninja if you keep putting so much pressure on him and destroying whatever self-esteem he manages to gain? I hate to say that again, but Yuki is right: he needs more time, and he needs more support. Speaking of which, you only have ten minutes left before you have to do that darn father-son chat. Have you thought up of something? You probably should.

Monkey Fist sighed, feeling a terrible headache building up in his skull. "Do I really have to do so?" he muttered to no one in particular. Being supporting wasn't precisely among his top qualities, and he honestly had no idea of what he should say.

You better do, unless you want to sleep on the couch for the next week or two: Yuki will never drop it if you don't. She seemed sure that it would mean much to Michio – and when it comes to him she usually is right, you have to admit it.

"I'd rather not," he mumbled with a frown, but he already knew he was going to give it a try. He glanced out of the window, grumbling a little, trying to figure out what in the world could he ever say.


Michio was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading a book – most likely one of the accounts of Monty's earliest expeditions, Yuki thought with a smile as she took a peek through the half-closed door. She had always thought those were too much of a difficult read for a seven-years-old, but Michio stubbornly kept struggling through each page as if it was a personal matter. He frowned a little each time he came across an unfamiliar word, read to grab the dictionary next to him just in case he didn't manage to understand it by himself.

It was funny how much he looked like his father when he was concentrated despite his mostly Asian features, she mused. Maybe it was the nose, she thought, or the jaw line. And maybe his hair and ears, she decided. Yuki's smiled widened a little as she saw he was chewing a cookie, as he always did while reading – Monty often complained about the crumbles he found among the pages of his books.

"Michio?" she called as the finally opened the door, stepping inside. The boy winced, quickly stuffing what was left of the cookie in his mouth, and he seemed relieved to see it was just his mother – he definitely wouldn't want to have his father complain again about the crumbles in his books right after scolding him for failing him at the training. He gave a sigh of relief and swallowed the cookie as Yuki sat next to him. "Chippy told me you didn't want to eat – apparently he was wrong," she said, amused.

Michio gave her a sheepish grin. "Uh…I changed my mind," he said innocently, causing Yuki to laugh and ruffle his hair as she took a cookie herself.

"I see. I hope you didn't let the crumbles fall on the book – you know finding them in his books annoys the heck out of your father," she said, her mouth full, and the kid's grin immediately vanished.

"Sure," he mumbled, closing the book with a frown "is there anything that doesn't?"

Yuki shrugged. "Oh, you know how he's like: he just isn't happy without something to snark over," her gaze softened as she watched the boy's mortified expression "he means well, you know – he just thinks this is the right way to motivate you, and he doesn't want to admit he's wrong."

"But I did my best, really! I –" he trailed off as his mother just stuffed another cookie in his mouth to make him shut up – when he began complaining, he could go on and on for hours.

"I know you did," Yuki said "and believe me, you are good: I say that pretty much e every time we train together, don't I?"

Michio nodded, starting to feel a tad better. "Yes."

"You have nothing to blame yourself for. The problem is not yours, it's your father's – he didn't realize he was simply asking too much. I'm sure he will understand in time, you just have to be patient."

Michio seemed slightly reassured. "Do you really think I'm good?"

"Hey, I wouldn't tell you a lie," she said, pinching his ear "and I'm sure he thinks the same – he keeps asking so much from you because he knows you have potential. I guess he's trying to be supportive, in his own way."

The boy made a face, looking almost amused now. "He has odd ways."

"Yeah, he does – but he means well, really," she paused "you have no idea of how much he changed since when we met…and believe me, we had quite some work to do," she added with a somewhat distant smile.

"You mean since when he was a criminal?"

Yuki blinked, surprised. Neither she and Monty has ever spoken to Michio about his father's years as a criminal – they had decided to wait until he was older, since he would eventually find out himself one way or another – and she had no idea of how could he have learned about it.

"How do you know about that?" she asked, puzzled – though she was definitely relieved to see her son didn't seem bothered by the thought.

"Alice Killigan told me. She said her father was one as well – ad her mother, too. They told her a lot of cool stuff," Michio replied, sounding almost excited by the thought "did father really steal a shuttle?"

Though amused by his odd enthusiasm – she should have expected it though: a lot of children just loved hearing of such stuff – Yuki couldn't bring herself to think it was 'cool' at all. Thankfully, what had happened on Mount Yamanouchi between her and Monty was something Michio would never get to know in any way. He would never know about his father's worst crime.

"Cool is not the first thing I think when I think about it," she said a little sternly, ruffling his hair "but yes, he did cause some trouble around the globe back in his days…though he had quit already when I met him," she said. Yes, it was a lie, but a necessary one. She felt less guilty than she had expected as she said it.

"And why did he do it?" Michio asked, curious.

Yuki hesitated – she definitely couldn't tell him that Monty used to be so obsessed with power that his obsession ended up turning into insanity: he was too young to understand. She eventually shrugged. "You know, I have no idea – it think it was some kind of midlife crisis. Some men start running after teens, some others turn to crime. It happens," she said, causing her son to laugh. His laughter, however, was short lived.

"I can assure you, midlife crisis is something I never experienced."

Both mother and son turned to the door to see Monkey Fist standing in the doorway, his arms folded, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her. Yuki grinned at his nearly outraged expression. "Hey, it's never too late for it to happen. I still see grey hair," she teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

"How funny," he muttered dryly, running a hand through his hair – he seemed slightly concerned, Yuki mused.

"Relax, I was kidding – no grey hair. For now."

"Of course, I know it," he said, and much to her amusement he seemed oddly relieved – then he looked at his son, and his relieved expression eventually turned into an uneasy one, but the kid was too busy staring at the ground to see it. Yuki glanced worriedly at the contrite expression on Michio's face – he looked like he was expecting to be scolded again because of his lousy results in the earlier training. She put a hand on his shoulder, waiting to see how would Monty handle the situation.

Monkey Fist hesitated for a moment as he glanced down to his son, then he cleared his throat. "You…uhm…" he glanced at Yuki, who just narrowed her eyes – it was clear he wouldn't get any help from her "you're actually getting better," he finally said "of course, the fighting style is still unpolished, but…there's time to work on it."

Michio swallowed, his eyes fixed on the ground. "I'm sorry, father, I –" he trailed off and blinked "…what?"

Monkey Fist seemed amused by his confusion. "I should hope you didn't go deaf," he said with a slight chuckle as his son stared at him as his words to finally sank in his brain.

"Oh," the boy's expression finally lightened up – that was probably the highest praise he had ever received from his father "you mean it?" he asked hopefully, sounding almost incredulous.

"Of course. But mind you, this doesn't mean you'll be allowed to slack off from now on – I expect from you the same dedication I always expected," he said somewhat sternly.

Michio immediately nodded, and Yuki had to repress a laughter – the boy was gloating as if he had just won the lottery or something. She looked at Monty, who seemed pleasantly surprised as well. He shrugged a bit uncomfortably at her 'I-told-you-so' expression and glanced down at the book Michio had been reading.

"I see you're reading one of my old accounts," he said, taking the book, and he frowned slightly as a few crumbles fell from the pages. He raised an eyebrow at Michio, who gave him a somewhat apologetic grin, then he just sighed and decided to ignore it just for once. He looked at the cover more closely, and he felt an odd pang of nostalgia – how old had he been during that expedition? He was still a student, so he was probably little more than twenty-one, he decided as he handled the book back to the kid. God, had almost thirty years passed already?

Michio nodded, taking back the book. "It's my favourite one," he said "did you really find all those traps on your way?" he asked, looking at him in awe.

"Of course I did," Monkey Fist said "those, and a lot more. Obviously, there are a lot of other details about that expedition that are not written there – I was supposed to describe what I found, not the obstacles I met on the way. For example…" he paused, glancing at the hopeful expression on his son's face "…I guess this means you want to tell you everything," he said a tad smugly – he didn't seem displeased at all by his son's I-want-to-be-like-you-when-I-grow-up kind of admiration.

"Yes!" Michio looked up at him excitedly, waiting for him to speak.

"Just a minute," Yuki said to the kid, speaking for the first time in a while "you better brush your teeth before, then. If I know you, you're going to fall asleep as soon as your father finishes speaking."

"But, mom…" Michio whined.

"No buts," Yuki tapped his nose "it will take you just a minute anyway. The sooner you go, the sooner you can listen to the story."

Michio grumbled something, but he obeyed without any further discussion. Yuki turned to Monkey Fist with a satisfied smirk as the kid excitedly rushed outside the room, almost running into a monkey ninja in his rush to get his teeth brushed in record time.

"See? It's not difficult to make him happy," she said as he sat next to her on Michio's bed.

"I see," Monkey Fist replied – he seemed both amused and surprised by how quickly the kid's mood had changed after his praise. And flattered, of course – Yuki could just feel his ego growing.

"And it isn't that difficult being a tad more supporting, is it?" she teased him a little, pocking his chest "I was right – admit it."

He grinned. "Never."

"Monty."

Monkey Fist rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine – maybe you were right. This time."

"Sure I was," she said smugly, lightly kissing his lips "and I always am, and you better not forget it."

He smiled against her lips. "I'll keep it in mind," was all he said before kissing her again.


Author's notes (yes, again. It might get boring, so feel free to skip XD).
Alright, I probably couldn't have chosen a sappier line to end the story...I just couldn't help myself. Feel free to shot me :P
Anyway, as I was saying before the chapter rudely interrupted me, I'd like to thank everyone who revied/faved/put this story on their alert…plus some special thanks.
So, yeah…thanks to
LilyHellsing, Donteatacowman, DJ Dubois, AIT98, Thoughts13, Jen Rock, Lil-Lyon, KP's Lawyer, WordArtisan, HotarutheChainMaster, thelavendercat, earlthegiantsquid, zardoz101, Oxymoron24, TwentyNineK, -Wind-of-Rekil-, Brimmstone, JLBShecky, Kyuu-kun and lbmunich. I hope you enjoyed the read.

And if you noticed there's someone missing, you get a cookie ;)
Massive thanks to
VampireNaomi for the detailed and in-depth reviews and the advice (sometimes I think this fic would have turned out to be VERY different without her words of wisdom, and it wouldn't have been half as good), the interesting discussions about fandoms/fanfictions/general stuff, her lovely illustration from chapter 19, which you can find on the Ultimate Monkey Archive (link on my profile), for having the idea of creating said archive and generally for sharing her fanwork. Check out her stuff, it's simply awesome.

Another special thanks to Spicyweasel for being so awesome and such a talented artist: it was her fanart that brought back enough of my interest on Monkey Fist's character to make me give this fic a chance. You can see her awesome illustrations for this fic on the Ultimate Monkey Archive (I don't have to say "the link is my profile" again, right? XD). I have no words to say how grateful I am to her for putting so much time and effort in those illustrations. Check out both her fanart and her original art, I was honest I said she's talented ;)

And also special thank to everyone one the"Ultimate Monkey Archive" for being so awesome, and either great writers or talented artists (or both). We have different opinions and ideas on a lot of stuff, and there has never been one single fight or flame – it isn't quite as common as it should be. You're just awesome ;)

wow, the notes ended up getting about as long as the chapter. Long story short: thanks to everyone who stuck with this story until the end. I really appreciate it, and I hope you appreciated the read as well.