"You've been quiet today."
Kung Jin paused at the remark that came from behind him- not willing to admit that the words had startled him to some small degree. He had forgotten that the other man was out in the practice fields with him; he must've been so focused on the red-painted targets in front of him that he just... didn't notice anything else around him. The suffocating silence might've also played a part in convincing him that he was alone.
Fingers wavered against the arrow he still had drawn back in the bowstring, but the slight pain in his arms said that he must've been holding it for awhile now. Probably never had the intent to shoot it when he strung it up in the first place. Sighing, he lowered his bow and shot the arrow into the ground in front of him instead- allowing for easier retrieval.
"Long day," he started, already having talked himself out of going another round on the practice targets. He had done several sets already, and it was clear that his head just wasn't in it; there was no telling how many arrows he might've misfired, and lost by now. He'd have to do a count on the ones in his quiver tonight, and then spend all day tomorrow searching for the missing numbers.
Probably should've taken some time to practice with his Chakram as well, but... not today. Maybe later tonight though. He was lacking the proper training hours with it, and if he performed less than adequate during his next test, he wouldn't forgive himself for it.
"Is everything alright?"
He could pick up on the hint of concern in the man's voice, and even without looking at him, he knew that his face and body language would express the same thing. And he hated the idea that he would make Fujin worry for him over nothing.
"I'm fine," Kung Jin assured, as he slipped the retrieved arrow back into his quiver, before he turned back towards the other man. Fujin was just a few feet away from him, allowing for plenty of space for his bow, but close enough for them to hold a steady conversation without needing to yell back and forth.
It was common that, whenever he was out in the fields training, and whenever Fujin was around, they always engaged in extensive conversation. Whether it was meaningless talk, or jokes, or politic discussions regarding some troubling matters that had been happening as of lately. Sometimes it felt like they could spend hours talking the wind out of each other. And Kung Jin wouldn't be caught off task considering that he was pretty skilled in multitasking; he could go through his rounds on the practice boards, and hold up a conversation regarding the ongoing civil war in Outworld without skipping a beat. Or missing a target.
Although, even now, he had to admit that this particular training session... had been oddly quiet.
And the realization of it was just now occurring to him.
"... Like I said, it's been a long day," Kung Jin repeated, taking easy note of the hint of concern on the Wind God's face. The man had a tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeve sometimes, which certainly wasn't a bad thing; it made him easy to read, easy to understand. Still, he felt a hefty sense of guilt settle in his chest in response to it. He hated knowing that he was the source for the frown lines on the man's face. His mind scrambled for something to say, for something to do to make up for the situation. "I... sorry for being such shit company."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Fujin assured, pausing slightly before he carefully added. "You have been... rather quiet as of lately though. If something's bothering you, you know you can speak to me about it, right?"
He considered the offer.
And then quickly rejected it.
He didn't even know what there would be to talk about.
"It's fine, I just..." the words lingered in the air for a bit, maybe making the false promise that he was going somewhere important with them. "I guess I didn't sleep that well last night, that's all."
An excuse, and a very easy one to see through.
But if Fujin wanted to press him on the subject, he decided not to act on it- thankfully. Instead, the man gave a simple nod in acknowledgement. "Well, the least I can do then is walk with you back to the temple if you're through here. I have some business that I need to settle with Master Bo' Rai Cho, and if I don't get it done now, he'll be too drunk to discuss it later."
There was some definite truth in that statement.
"... Yeah, sounds good."
It had always been a simple walk back to the Shaolin temple from the training yards- one that usually lasted ten minutes at best. Although between the two of them, they'd usually try and make it last longer for the sake of conversation, for the sake of having good company around.
And yet, today, it felt like it dragged on for miles- and not in a good way.
Each step was made in painstaking silence, more so from his end rather than Fujin's. It was like he was stuck on autopilot- stuck following the same routine over and over again, even down to the same steps taken along the cobblestone path.
"Jin."
He barely heard Fujin call his name, let alone even noticed that the man had stopped walking altogether.
It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and felt it pull him back did he finally stop- only to feel the man turn him around to face him as well. The hand remained on his shoulder, heavy and lightly curled against him; not so much keeping him in a hold, but... seemingly more for reassurance than anything.
"Something is bothering you, you can't keep denying that," Fujin spoke; his voice once more laced with concern.
He never did have a great poker face.
Not around the Wind God at least- never really needed one.
Before Kung Jin even had a chance to put his thoughts together, to force together some kind of reasonable answer, he felt the hand on his shoulder move to his face; a callous palm cupping the curve of his jaw. It was a subtle gesture, one that Fujin had a tendency to do from time to time. Normally it was just a brushing motion, one made out of reassurance, or comfort, but... this one lingered; it held still against his skin, allowing him to take in the heat of the man's palm. He didn't question it, not at first anyways- Fujin was a physical kind of person, always had to make some kind of contact in order to carry on a conversation it would seem.
Kung Jin even found himself leaning into the touch- finding that it provided a suitable break from being on autopilot.
...
The answer to Fujin's concerns struck him hard, in the answer of misplaced feelings, and unavoidable thoughts.
In the answer of feelings that he tried to ignore, tried to push down- push away. In the answer of reactions that flooded his chest with a sinking sort of feeling that stilled the breath in his throat. The same sinking feeling, ignited by the touch of Fujin's hand, that caused his heartbeat to spike in seconds, causing slight pain to settle under his ribs at how quickly it accelerated.
There was that familiar spark of adrenaline that felt as though it triggered his fight or flight instinct.
And given the situation, given the circumstances, he wanted to run.
It was always easier to just... run.
And yet, instead, he pulled out of the man's touch and tried to distill the reaction- tried to ignore it, and play it off.
"I'm fine," Kung Jin repeated once more, wondering how many more times he could say it before his luck run out. "I just..." It was like his tongue wanted to keep talking even though he didn't have any other words to say. He had put himself on the spot, with no idea of where he was going with them- and with no one to blame but himself. But he couldn't keep skirting the conversation- couldn't keep telling Fujin that he was fine. "I'm just stressing over some things, that's all."
It was a lackluster answer, but if the man was disappointed in it, it didn't show.
If anything, Fujin probably appreciated those few words- because at least it was an answer. Not a solid one, but... an answer regardless.
"Like what?"
Kung Jin cringed at the press of conversation; he guessed he had had some hope that the man would drop it. "It's nothing really, just..." Again, he struggled, stumbled for something. He liked to keep his cards close to his chest; he wasn't used to exposing anything about himself- it just wasn't in him to do it. Exposure lead to vulnerability. "My studies, I guess," he finally settled. "I'm at the top of my class right now, in basically everything we're doing- which is not easy to do. And I guess the pressure's just starting to get to me. Things have been going fine for now, but I just keep expecting myself to crash and burn eventually, and throw it all away."
He might've had a horrible poker face in some regards, but he was still a pretty damn good liar. Not the best of traits to have, but under certain circumstances it had certainly proven its worth.
... And it wasn't like he was completely lying to Fujin either; this had actually been a concern of his for quite some time now. It dug under his skin just the same, and... there wasn't much he could do about it. It wasn't the reason for his behavior now, but technically he just shifted the truth around a little.
He released pressure from one story to bury the other. For now.
"Is that it?"
The question sounded concerned, sounded innocent, and yet... it almost felt like an interrogation. But he knew it was just his own mind playing tricks on him, making the situation out to be worse than it actually was.
Kung Jin gave a hard sigh and fiddled with the etchings on his bow, desperate to have his hands distracted by something. "... I know some of my classmates have found out who my family is, so I know they're all comparing me to them." Minor pause as he rubbed at the back of his neck out of nervous habit. "It's stupid, but... I guess I'm just now realizing how difficult it's going to be to break away from that. I know that I'm never going to escape it, and that I should just get use to it- but sometimes it feels useless to carry on knowing that I'll probably never make a name for myself."
He cringed at the amount of weight he had just spilled out- unsure of why he did so, and whether or not that was his intentions.
At this point, it felt like he was manipulating his own emotions to cover his tracks.
"That's because you're not them," Fujin replied, before he set both hands on his shoulders; heavy, but reassuring as they clasped lightly against him. "And believe it or not, no one is every going to be them- family or not."
There was some truth in the man's words.
It wasn't like someone could recreate the same accomplishments that Liu Kang and Kung Lao had; their victories were set in stone, and of a time long since past. A time half-buried under lies and defeat.
"All you can do now is be you, and work just as hard as they did. You will have a name for yourself when the time comes."
What a Shaolin thing to say...
Although he had to admit that there was a sense of relief and comfort in the man's words.
"That means a lot coming from you," Kung Jin started, hoping he sounded half as genuine as he felt. "I know I've been a real drag to be with lately-"
"Come now, there is nothing to apologize for," Fujin assured once more, briefly shaking him by the shoulders, before the man pulled him forward, and into a tight hug. Never was one to accept misplaced apologies- always believed in easy forgiveness for those who deserved it. "Please just... remember that I'm here if you need me. I do hold some responsibility for you being here, for being a part of the Shaolin. I don't want you to work yourself to death because of family matters, or because of some bitter banter someone might have."
Fujin had caught him in the embrace before he could object to it- although the man had moved quick enough that he didn't really have time to anyways. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture, he just... he was almost certain Fujin would be able to feel his heart thundering in his chest. Thrashing almost at this point.
Kung Jin didn't really get the chance to return the gesture before the Wind God pulled away. Before warm hands cupped themselves against his jaw instead, a little firmer than they were earlier- before lips brushed themselves against his forehead.
And he knew not to look deeper into it- knew not to see it as anything more than like a parent, or guardian kissing their child in comfort.
But it was still enough to make it feel like his legs would buckle out from underneath him. Still enough to catch the breath in his throat once more- enough to make him have to quickly restrain himself from reacting to it. But it was hard not to. Hard not to want to close his eyes and take it in; hard not to want to focus on the warmth of the lips on his skin, and admit that they felt nice.
So he buried his reaction, knowing that it wasn't fair to either of them.
Fujin was one of the few people he felt was actually on his side- even if just in a general sense. He didn't want to risk ruining the connection they already had. It was as simple as that.
It didn't make the pain any easier, or make it go away at all, but... he knew it was better than letting it blow up in his face.
"You're not getting sentimental on me, are you old man?" Kung Jin teased, although did little in terms of pushing the man away. He would let Fujin end the contact since he did start it. It would've been rude to turn him away anyways.
Fujin spared his remark with a brief laugh and pulled away, although the man kept his hands on his jaw for just a few seconds longer. Enough for his heart to skip a few beats in a row, before he felt those hands ran up through his black hair- immediately messing up the sculpted strands.
"Hey!"
"You still have much to learn about keeping your guard up," Fujin spoke in jest- clearly amused at his own breaking of the somber setting. "If it helps at all, despite the accomplishments that Liu Kang and Kung Lao had between them... I know for a fact that neither of them knew how to use a bow. And Liu Kang never could master the art of throwing a projectile that wasn't fire- which is where your cousin got his advantage over him. So you're already two marks over Liu Kang, and that's something."
Kung Jin laughed briefly at the last-minute words of reassurance. "Thanks, Fujin."
Fingers wrung the loose water out of his hair as Kung Jin twisted the black strands around in his fist- keeping the hold loose enough to avoid straining his scalp. The sound of the water hitting the shower basin at his feet mimicked the rain coming down outside; abet a little softer, and with no hidden intent. He thought a shower might help settle his nerves some, and it did to an extent. The water helped to wash away the sweat from the night before, and the phantom hands that still clung onto his injuries.
It would hold him over for now, and that was worth something.
He had to admit that he was still in denial with how bad the storm affected him; he was getting used to it, but every now and again a crashing bellow of thunder would claw its way under his skin. Although, in his defense, this time was actually caused by a small meteor clipping the side of the building. Fujin had failed to warn him beforehand that sometimes during these storms of Raiden's... meteors were pulled out of the skies, and rained down on the ground below. Apparently the Wind Temple was usually lucky enough to avoid any catastrophic damages, but every now and then it would take a hit or two.
Things he wished he had been informed of sooner, but... he would cut himself some slack this time.
Tying his hair back up, Kung Jin tried to focus on the soft rumbling of the thunder outside- and not on the fact that he could hear Fujin talking in the next room. He tried to pretend that he couldn't hear the man, or that he wasn't eavesdropping on what was being said... but he was.
With nothing but a storm going on around them, it was hard not to listen in.
"Is there... still no change?" There was hesitation, almost fear in the man's voice- fear in what the answer he was seeking might be. Fear that it wouldn't be what he was expecting, what he was hoping for.
And fear in the knowledge that he knew the answer long before he asked the question.
"I'm sorry, Fujin, but so far nothing has changed."
The Wind God could be heard giving a heavy sigh in response. He must've been using one of the astral devices to communicate- just like the one General Blade carried around so she could keep in contact with Raiden at all times. It was the only thing Kung Jin could think of that wouldn't be interfered by the storm. "I expected nothing, and yet... I'm still disappointed somehow. Thank you for being there, Bo' Rai Cho. I know this isn't any easier for you either."
"There is still hope- after all, Raiden may not be getting better, but he hasn't gotten worse either," the man assured, or at least, tried his best to. Subtle comfort wasn't exactly the man's speciality. "This isn't easy for anyone, especially not for you, Fujin, but Earthrealm still needs you. The Jinsei needs you."
There was another quiet sound of reservation, and the quiet sound of what might've been Fujin leaning against a wall. "I know, I'll be fine, don't worry about me," he spoke; his voice calm, and more reassuring in those few words. "I just... wish this storm would break up soon. At least then I would know that Raiden's getting better, or that he's at least still fighting. But I know that it's barely started." A brief pocket of silence, a moment to recollect thoughts. "Is it bad down where you are? I held the storm off as best I could, but there was very little I could do by the time I started. Raiden always managed to be the superior one when it came to enacting, and supporting storms."
"With the amount of energy he exerted, and then absorbed in the Jinsei, the storm itself is untouchable- even by you," Bo' Rai Cho seemed to remind. "As for things here, it is nothing more than the usual. A bit of rain, a bit of hail... a few meteors here or there. Nothing too serious- nothing that the temple has not seen, or cannot handle. The fact that the storm is not concentrated over the Jinsei alone says a lot about Raiden's willpower right now; he's spreading the storm out to reduce clutter, which is very typical of him to do." A brief pause for a soft chuckle. "What about you there? I'm certain it's a little more heinous."
"It is the same," Fujin answered. "Have you managed to get into contact with General Blade? Is there an update available on the others?"
"Not as of now. I fear this storm is making it problematic for the Special Forces to move around- not to mention, General Blade has a lot on her plate right now," the Shaolin Master continued. "You have enough to worry about, brother Fujin. Please, take some time and allow yourself to breathe, alright? Get a drink or two in you, and relax."
Fujin offered a half-hearted laugh at the remark. "We have enough issues as it is, Bo' Rai Cho- and we all remember the last time I drank."
Bo' Rai Cho's laugh was infectious and deep- bellowing loudly even from the other end of the line. "Yes, perhaps so- but you must admit, it was fun while it had lasted. And General Blade was gracious enough to forgive the damages done."
"Perhaps so, but it is a terrifying thought to be in her debt still," Fujin reminded. "Elder Gods above know when she might choose to call in that hefty favor."
Again, another bellowing laugh.
"Tell me, brother, how is the young one doing?"
Kung Jin felt himself partly cringe at the question, meanwhile Fujin seemed to enjoy it with a laugh instead.
"Did he not break your nose the last time you called him that?"
"That is... irrelevant."
He had been in the middle of an extra training session with Master Bo' Rai Cho when the man decided to coin that term- and he swore the man used it to mock him throughout their battle. It was a harmless tag at first, but then it seemed to turn into a taunt, something to get on his nerves and trick him into making a mistake. And it almost had. He had misjudged Bo' Rai Cho's actions and missed a judgmental swing- and ended up landing his weight heavy on his left leg, which he wasn't accustomed to. Nearly lost his balance in doing so.
Bo' Rai Cho was getting ready to strike as well, and had the man done so, it would've cost him the battle- that much Kung Jin knew.
So, he twisted slightly on his left foot, rotated his body opposite of normal, and shifted his weight enough to bring his right leg over. And successfully pulled off a reverse defensive kick, hitting the Shaolin Master hard in the face.
There was a lot of blood, a lot of praise for quick thinking, and then laughter and booze to numb the pain.
And since then, Master Bo' Rai Cho refrained from referring to him as 'young one' outside of battle.
"Kung Jin's fine. The storm is getting to him, but... he's been calm," Fujin spoke in answer. "I'm still worried about him though- there's no telling what's going on inside of his head. He dealt with things that he wasn't prepared for, that we didn't prepare him for. From the Osh-Tekk, to the ordeal with Shinnok, to..." his voice trailed, but Kung Jin knew what the man was going to say, what he was trying to say.
"We couldn't have anticipated anything. We're lucky everyone survived- even by the thin string that they did, myself included," Bo' Rai Cho started. "He'll be fine. He's not a child, Fujin; he's a Shaolin, and he comes from a good bloodline. A bloodline that is still strong and surviving."
There was a brief pocket of silence.
Soon punctured by a quiet sigh from the Wind God.
"You're right. I'm letting my own insecurities blind me, and I'm not giving him the credit he deserves."
"Get some rest, Fujin," Bo' Rai Cho urged once more. "The long days are only starting, and you're already coming apart at the seams."
"Right... Just let me know if anything changes, alright?" Fujin spoke.
"Of course."
Kung Jin listened as the conversation ended, and managed to hear the man whisper a few inaudible words to himself. And he knew he couldn't just stay in here until the Wind God pulled himself back together.
Fujin would've noticed the water no longer running by now, and would either assume that he was having another panic attack... or that he was eavesdropping. And it wasn't like he could really defend himself on that front since he was.
Sighing, he tried to clear his own head first, knowing it would be no good if they were both in the low end of functionality, before he readjusted the looser fitted clothing on his tall frame and stepped out. And almost immediately he felt the chilling air of the hallway rush him, soaking up the faint heat that still radiated off of his skin. He felt his body lock up slightly at the conflicting contrast- felt the slight tension of his jaw setting in to keep his teeth from chattering.
Fujin's pent up energy was getting the best of him, causing him to cast a cold spell across the Wind Temple.
The man had nearly exhausted his energy with his attempt to stop the storm, but this was... this was a different kind of energy. It hung heavy in the air, felt cold on the skin, and shifted uncomfortably in his chest.
Kung Jin could see where the man was leaning back against the opposite wall, eyes closed and looking as though he was meditating. But after hearing the unknowingly open conversation that had revealed his concerns, and insecurities, he could see why the man would be doing so. And it pained him to a degree knowing that there wasn't much he could do in terms of making the situation any easier for Fujin.
Then again, he supposed they were both stuck in that same boat.
"You alright?" Kung Jin questioned, watching as the Wind God quickly snapped out of his trance and hastily straightened himself back up. It was clear the man was trying to hide any sort of indicator that something was wrong- and it made him feel a little guilty still that he knew anyways. "You're not looking... so great."
"I'll be fine, don't worry about me," Fujin assured; the air and temperature leveling out a bit as he tried to put some control over his energy. "Are you feeling any better? Is there anything I can get you?"
And right back into being a gracious host.
"I'm good," he replied, noting that the simple answer seemed to give the man some comfort. Not enough to erase the heavy lines on his face, or take out the settling dim of his eyes, but... any amount, no matter how small, was still an improvement. He tugged on the open collar of his shirt, not liking the way it settled so low on his neck, but knowing that it was better than touching the sensitive skin. "... So what now?"
Fujin seemed to study the question, running it over in his head- and although there was no context behind it, he still seemed lost for an answer. A quiet sigh eventually escaped him before he closed his eyes once more. "I wish I had the answer you seek, but... it evades even me."
It was the same question Kung Jin had had before, the same one that Fujin had gently shot down in turn to answer.
It was the same question that everyone had, that everyone shared, and yet... no one knew the answer to it. Or perhaps, in truth, no one wanted to know; no one wanted to carry that burden. It was a scary answer to seek out; one that had decades to cultivate, decades to simmer and play out in everyone's head. But too many scenarios, too many unknowns played into it.
The truth was... no one had an answer; no one could predict, or theorize what might happen. Even now, weeks later, they still didn't have an answer- even as it laid unconscious in a bed, locked away from the public, locked away behind Special Forces doors.
Everyone shared the same want, the same need to look on the brighter side of things, but in reality... the sun rarely shined on those options.
They were always handed the short end of the stick.
Hence why this was such a delicate situation- especially in regards to Raiden.
In regards to the Revenant.
Both the Thunder God, and the Revenant had been horribly torn out from battle, and yet still carried the fresh remains of dark energy in their blood. They still carried the same dark energy that had threatened to consume Earthrealm in its entirety- and eventually all of the realms in the coming days. And while there was no hive mind, no control over them any longer... the darkness was still there.
For the Revenant, it was two decades lost; family and friends moved on, leaving them behind. Two decades of fire and pain, locked away in the Netherrealm, now finally over- to the potential dismay of their broken, shattered minds.
The ordeal was over for everyone, sure... but the real battle was just now starting for them.
And still, they had no answers.
Defeated, Kung Jin walked the short distance across the hallway to Fujin- easily taking note of the man's heavier features now, of the slight loss of his energetic mind and body. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen the man in such a state, and still have fingers left over. It wasn't a sight he was accustomed to, and for that he was thankful.
He touched his fingers against the man's jaw, gently testing his reaction, and when the God didn't pull away, he moved to cup his face in both hands. It didn't take much from there before Fujin leaned into him, heavy in his hands.
It didn't take much for Kung Jin to brush his lips against the man's forehead, placing a subtle kiss before he felt the God sink down into his shoulder.
He had greatly appreciated Fujin's open concerns, and his attempts to soothe any nerves that he could. It was... refreshing; it was far more personal, far more intimate than the actions of the doctors or nurses from the hospital- not to rain on them. They were professional, but that was about it.
... This wasn't an one-sided situation though.
Just as Bo' Rai Cho had spoken before, it was difficult for everyone right now, and the Wind God was already coming apart at the seams. Unknowing, unwillingly.
"It'll be okay," Kung Jin whispered, as fingers moved to tangle in his white braid. He felt Fujin's hands, heavy as they were, move around him- felt them curl tight against his back, loosely holding onto him. Loosely clinging to him. And he understood the motions well- understood the motive, and pain behind them.
"How can I face him again knowing that I did nothing to help him when he needed me?"
He wasn't certain of who Fujin was referring to in his question- whether he was speaking of Raiden, or... of Kung Lao. He didn't want to know the answer though, didn't need to- not now at least. There would be time for answers and clarification later. For now, the less he knew, the better.
For now, he held onto him, listening to the man's deep breathing, and feeling the air turn cold around them once more.