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“That mentor of yours hasn’t been ‘round lately,” Pigsy said while he walked out the kitchen, setting down some refilled bottles of condiments on the countertop. “Last time I saw him, he was fumbling through our trash before haulin’ ass on his cloud.”
Mei’s selective hearing kicked in and she glanced up from her phone, an amused smile on her face, “Monkey King is a dumpster diver?”
“No, Monkey King is not a dumpster diver,” Mk rolled his eyes before narrowing them hesitantly, “I think.”
“Well he agreed to stick around more to get t’know us or whatever,” Pigsy frowned. “Should stick to it and try t’be consistent.”
“C’mooon , Pigsy! I told you, he’s been busy!” It was a casual comment, Mk knew, but he still felt somewhat defensive about it.
“And you,” Pigsy waved a pair of chopsticks at him, still wet with the boiling noodle water he stuck it in. “Stop defending him every time I say anythin’. Whose side are you on?”
Mk laughed, knowing him well enough to know that was Pigsy’s non-serious joking tone. “There’s no sides , I’m just saying-”
“Oohhhh , somebody’s a Monkey King staaaan ,” Mei teased.
“So what if I am,” he dramatically crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. “So is Tang!”
“Huh? What are we talking about?” the aforementioned man perked up from his book at the call of his name.
“Yeah yeah, that precious Monkey King of yours,” Pigsy huffed. “Whatever. I’m just sayin’ he should come back soon. I tried that marinated peaches thing he was ramblin’ about last time and nobody else would want to eat that shit.”
Mk blinked. “You miss him!” he gasped loudly.
“I don’t miss him," Pigsy glared incredulously. “I just want these peaches gone before they start stinkin’ up my whole fridge!”
“You’ve gone soft and you miss him and you love him and you’re totally attached –”
“Stop puttin’ damn words in my mouth, kid–”
Mk squealed with excitement. “ You’re warming up to him ,” he said in a sing-song voice, giggling so hard that he almost fell off his chair.
“For the last time,” Pigsy growled, face deepening in shade with embarrassment. “I DON’T MISS MONKEY KING!”
“Oh.”
The four snap their heads to the door. They didn’t hear the bell go off but there stood Sandy, blocking out most of the doorway with his build and a grimace on his face, and the Monkey King himself standing in front of him.
“Welp,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a lopsided grin. “Nice to see you again, too?”
“Monkey King!” Mk bounced off his seat. “He didn’t mean that I swear you walked in at the wrong time Pigsy is like actually super attached to you just don’t listen to whatever he says he’s a liar– ”
A ladle lands squarely at the back of Mk’s head, making him crouch over in pain with an ‘oof’ .
“Welcome back. Honeyed peaches in the fridge, help ya’self,” Pigsy said with a gruff voice, hand still extended from where he aimed and threw the ladle. “We haven’ opened yet, so you can stay for a few hours this time before rush hour’s here.”
“Oh, great, thanks,” Monkey King laughed awkwardly. He seemed to steel himself when Sandy laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and Pigsy raised an eyebrow.
“Actually, I’m here for something else.”
~
There was a leak somewhere in this dark, damp storage room. One that kept going drip… drip… drip… that he was desperately trying to not focus on while Pigsy mulled over his request.
The rest of the group was still at the front of the shop, even Sandy, the traitor , stayed outside the door so Wukong could ‘practice his communication skills on Pigsy without anybody else around as a barrier’ ... whatever that means.
“Ya wanna use my health card?” Pigsy finally asked, suspicion still deep in his voice after a few moments of contemplation. He looked Wukong up and down, as if he could see any possible injuries through his armor and clothes. “I thought you were immortal, can’t just find some mystical-magic healer? I don’t understand why you’d need ta go to a normal hospital for anythin’.”
That wasn’t a ‘no’ yet. Wukong inhaled. Sure it was awkward and uncomfortable and stuffy and he’d rather stay on his mountain and —
And he was doing this for the cat. The pregnant cat that was waiting for him at home, probably with her food bowl half-full because her diet had increased to feed the extra babies in her tummy, and oh Buddha he really did want to see those babies in her tummy .
For the cat. He took another breath, “It’s not for me, per se.”
“Another demon?” Pigsy assumed. “I dunno if they can just up and use my health card, not sure if that’s legal,” he drawled.
It wasn’t until a century ago that the demons first entered the ‘human’ rights legislation of the nation. Even now, there were plenty of demons who lived outside a lot of the human law’s jurisdiction, Wukong included, and more others who’d choose to disguise themselves as human for convenience's sake.
Simply put, not a lot of demons have official documents or identification cards, Wukong included. Sandy, too. They needed a health card for veterinarian services. Simple as that.
Sandy told him that Tang had procrastinated on renewing his health card for years and so had Mk. Mei’s stuff was always kept with her parents, which would’ve been more complicated to deal with. Pigsy was the only person they could request from and for whatever reason, Sandy seemed to think their situation wasn’t difficult enough and asked Wukong to try and convince Pigsy on his own.
“No, not exactly,” he muttered. “Don’t tell anyone yet, but there’s this pregnant cat … And I was hoping to get some check up or scan for her.”
“Sherbert?” Pigsy tilted his head. That was the name of Sandy’s pregnant cat. “We already got a scan for her, she was all fine and healthy. Did something happen to her?” He narrowed his eyes pointedly at Wukong.
“No! It’s, um, it’s another cat. I found her in the trash outside your shop a few weeks ago,” Wukong grimaced with a higher tilt to his voice. “She’s staying at my house.”
Pigsy gave him a long, hard stare, eyes flickering around his face with an unreadable expression. “How long has she been showin’?”
“The bump? Uhhh– I think,” he counted on his fingers. He first found out about the pregnancy a week ago at Sandy’s boat, so that’s– “Around a month ago?”
“Are ya tellin’ me or askin’ me? C’mon, you don’t even have a marked date or something?”
“ I do!” he frowned, indignant. “It’s on the calendar that I left at home.”
“Well, if it’s for the cat…” Pigsy muttered, “Y’better remember that calendar tomorrow. Bring her and meet me outside the shop after closing time.”
Wukong brightened, back straightening and tail wagging, “So you agree? I can take your health card?”
“Not so fast bucko,” Pigsy said with a hand on the door handle. “I’m comin’ with you, of course. And don’t enlist Sandy to babysit you,” he pulled it open, pointedly looking at the big man outside who clearly had his ear pressed against the door a few seconds prior. Sandy smiled back bashfully. “We don’t need t’ crowd the poor vet.”
“Yay!” Sandy cheered, pulling him and Wukong into a tight hug. “Please show me pictures of the babies once you get them!”
Pigsy rolled his eyes. “When had you two gotten’ so chummy?” he muttered.
“What babies?” Mk’s voice called from the front of the shop.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wukong called back, voice cracking from Sandy squeezing the shit out of him.
Mei perked up from her phone, “Monkey King is pregnant?”
“ NO– ”
~
He laughed at it a few days ago, amused by Sandy’s seemingly nonsensical motherhenning about his day trip with the cat to the vet.
Write down the symptoms so you don’t forget! Tie the sling like this so it’s more secure! Please don’t drop her Mr. Monkey King, please don’t freak out at the vet Mr. Monkey King, please don’t run away mid-conversation from Pigsy Mr. Monkey King! Blah, blah, blah!
But now that he was actually here, the situation seemed a lot less funny.
It was just a short trip to the vet. It was for the cat, he reminded himself. Still, it didn’t stop his hands from getting clammy as he thought about following Pigsy around for hours with nobody else as a buffer.
Wukong could already imagine the awkwardness, the frustration, the vet . Oh Buddha , he had heard horror stories about the vet. The place where animals got strapped to a table and got their testicles cut off. He took a deep breath, telling himself that he was tall enough to not be mistaken as a house pet.
He arrived at the meeting spot too early, a calendar stuffed in a bag on his back and a cat strapped to his front. Because of his sunglasses and the hood pulled over his head, he opted to slink into the nearby alleyway to wait until the shop’s closed in case some do-gooder wanted to call the cops on the suspicious loiterer.
The cat was much heavier now. Not heavy enough to be an inconvenience but heavy enough to stretch the fabric of the sling as Wukong wrapped his hands securely around the little body. It seemed rather scared, big eyes blinking around the street from over Wukong’s shoulder, her paws struggling to grip his shirt without claws.
He took a moment to be thankful that he decided to dress casually with his disguise, otherwise she would’ve been uncomfortable, pressed against his usual armor and all that. Wukong was wearing the same hoodie he had on when he found her, standing near the exact dumpster he picked her up from. He wondered if that meant anything meaningful or if she could sense it, too.
The bell on the noodle shop’s door rang, signaling someone stepping out. He automatically took a step back, further into the darkened path of the alleyway, before he saw a familiar pink head pop out from the corner, curiously peering at him.
Pigsy muttered something with a curious look on his face, something that sounded suspiciously like “dumpster diver” .
“What?” Wukong said defensively.
“Nothin’. What are y’doing, hiding here?”
“ Nothing! What are you doing out so early? It’s not closing time yet, is it?”
“Well I saw somebody slinkin’ around outside the door like a weirdo,” Pigsy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. “There ain’t many customers left anyways. Tang and Mk can handle the rest so I get to leave earlier.”
Wukong grumbled and begrudgingly followed the chef out to the streets. Pigsy suddenly paused, so Wukong stopped right next to him. He was staring at the sling on his chest.
“Oh,” Wukong jolted to explain. “She’s hiding a bit, I think she’s a little scared–”
“Y’don’t have a carrier?”
Wukong scrunched his nose in confusion. “What’s that?”
Pigsy glared incredulously. “It’s a little bag to carry animals in. So they can, y’know,” he gestured wildly with his arms, “transport safely?"
“Sandy doesn’t use carriers.”
“Stop using Sandy as an example!” he raised his arms exasperatedly. "Have you seen the guy’s rock-hard broad shoulders of pure , rippling muscle? Those cats ain’t fallin’ off anytime soon!”
Wukong was stunned silent for a few seconds before he bursted out laughing. “Yeah, I suppose– I suppose that’s true,” he gasped between breaths.
Pigsy rolled his eyes before walking off, leaving a chortling Monkey King behind to chase after him. “Wait! Hold on man, I gotta summon my cloud.”
“We are not usin’ that damn cloud,” Pigsy called over his shoulder.
Wukong caught up, lightly nudging him on the shoulder. He wasn’t sure how touchy he was yet, on a scale of Sandy to Nezha. “What? Ya scared of heights?” he teased, trying to keep up the light atmosphere that had somehow been curated.
“Funny,” Pigsy flicked his forehead without even looking at him. “Nah, just thought walkin’ would be nice. It’s not that far.”
“What’s so nice about this?” Wukong rubbed his head. “The air quality is bad and the streets are so noisy.”
“ Ah, ah, ” Pigsy tutted, throwing an arm over Wukong’s shoulders and pulled him in. “Pay attention real close here, king , sink yerself down to our level a bit, eh? Feel the ground under your feet?” Wukong squinted, not sure where he was going with this, but nodded anyway. “Decently built, solid, firm. A standard pavement sidewalk. Can you sense it? It’s the fruit of all my damn tax money.”
“Ohh,” Wukong automatically nodded. He didn’t know what taxes were, but his survival instincts felt that he should just comply.
“All the money that’s sucked from my little shop’s profit and everyone else’s wallets, goin’ into these stupid streets and other dumb projects,” Pigsy muttered ominously. “ Of course I’m gonna fuckin’ use these sidewalks, I’ll walk this ground ‘till my footprints dent the asphalt.”
The arm around his shoulder tightened and tensed as Pigsy’s voice dropped lower, hoarse and menacing and angry, “And that smell? The oily, gas smell and all the fuckin’ traffic noise and motor engines?” Wukong nodded faster this time. “That’s the smell of savin’ money . I’ll sooner walk to India than sit my ass on one of those overpriced, smelly taxi seats.”
Suddenly, his shoulders were released and Pigsy sprang up, a sharp but pleased smirk on his face, “How’s that? Doesn’t it just make you appreciate walkin’ so much more?”
“Totally.” Wukong tilted his head, amused, “But you have your own truck, don’t you?”
“Haven’t ya seen the gas prices?” Pigsy gawked, appalled. “Gotta save wherever I can! Now quit complainin’ and start walking faster.”
They made it outside the clinic within record time. It was a rather inconspicuous little place amongst the other stores on the street. Stood outside the building, he could already imagine the metal tables and artificial fragrances. To be honest, Wukong was still a bit skeptical about the whole see-through-stomach thing.
In older times, medics could describe a pregnancy pretty accurately just from measuring the pulses on a woman’s wrist, never pierce their eyes through layers of skin and muscle . Even Wukong’s Golden Eyes of Truth could only see vague blobs of light in her belly, which only served to tell him they were still alive.
Pigsy nudged him when he made no move towards the door. “C’mon I even closed my shop early and left earlier just for this. Don’t flank out on me now, king .”
He narrowed his eyes, “Are you guilt tripping me?"
“Did Sandy teach you that word?” Pigsy deadpanned. He gave Wukong a hard smack on his back, “Move your ass, I booked an appointment but they said they’re free all afternoon if we can get here sooner.”
With a yelp from the hit, Wukong stalked after him and mumbled under his breath, disgruntled.
The clinic didn’t seem that busy on a week-day afternoon and they were able to get settled down in a room rather quickly, waiting for the veterinarian. Pigsy had done all the talking with the front-desk as Wukong just grimaced at all the tacky decor on the wall. Colorful, sure, lots of cute animal pictures, definitely, but it didn’t cover up the clear, distasteful interior design.
The palette is barely cohesive and the spacing of each pattern is repulsive, walls busy with ads and other medical-looking charts plastered within the animal portraits and stickers. Too colorful. He could almost throw up from it, or maybe it’s just because of the stench of antiseptic with undertones of animal piss.
Wukong could hear some poor dog wailing from the other room over. He clenched the cat on his chest closer, but she started struggling, wanting out for some reason. She didn’t understand that Wukong was protecting her. Fortunately, she didn’t give any fucks about the horrendous interior design as she finally crawled out of the sling, stretching herself on his lap. She seemed to not mind the clinic as much as she did with the streets outside.
Pigsy side-eyed the cat from where he sat next to Wukong, probably trying to not seem too obvious in case he scared her. Wukong smirked, “Wanna pet her?” Despite the patchy state of her fur, she was still wonderful and cute.
Pigsy raised an eyebrow in interest, hesitantly reaching a finger towards the cat, stopping an inch or two from her nose. She stared at him, both of them looking at each other tentatively before Pigsy suddenly reached further and poked her between the eyes. He quickly retreated his hand and grunted a noise of affirmation, as if complimenting her for a good forehead.
Wukong cackled, unrestrained, “What was that?”
“ Shuddup! I’m not good with cats.”
“You’ve never met Sandy’s cats before?” Wukong chortled. “What about Mo?”
“That’s different!” Pigsy glared, cheeks darkening in color. “Those were all trained therapy cats!”
“I dunno the difference but she’s pretty friendly,” he lifted his knees to his chin and brought the cat up, nudging his cheek against her head. “See?”
Pigsy looked, unimpressed, “To you , sure, but I’m not about to let myself get scratched. Those injuries may be thin and small but they hurt like a bitch when washin’ the dishes.”
Wukong gasped dramatically, covering most of the cat’s head with his hands when he folded them over her ears, “No cussing around the baby! Besides, she’s not usually this cuddly around me, hehe, only ‘cause she’s scaaared , isn’t that right?”
He cooed gleefully at the cat, who was stiff but didn’t struggle as he gently rocked her on his knees. “ Lil’ scaredy cat , only clingy when you need me, eh?” he giggled, voice loud and sing-song. “ Hehehe, how calculating! As expected of the Great -”
Pigsy gave a loud, purposeful cough and Wukong snapped his head up. His expression froze. A lanky guy in a white coat stood at the door of the room, looking tired and unfazed.
Wukong’s face immediately burned up, stretching his legs and setting his feet on the ground as his tail wrapped insecurely around his waist under the hoodie. He slightly ducked his head, avoiding the veterinarian’s eyes.
“Good afternoon, doc,” Pigsy casually greeted. Wukong could hear the amused smirk in his voice and bit his lips to stop the choked noise of embarrassment. He glanced up at the vet just in time to see them nod in acknowledgement while settling down in the cushy chair with tiny wheels. They clicked a few times on the computer before turning to Wukong.
“Ms. ‘Lil’ Scaredy Cat’ , I presume?” they asked, gesturing to the cat. Wukong gave a few awkward huffs of laughter at the joke but trailed off when their expression lacked any signs of amusement to suggest it was a joke at all.
“Haha… um ,” his brain short-circuited, tongue suddenly feeling too heavy and knotted to work properly. “ Sure . Yeah. Doctor–” he squinted at the name tag on their coat, “Ding- Yang-Lan?”
“ ‘Dr. Ding’ is fine.”
“Okay,” Wukong squeaked meekly. He hadn’t spoken with a stranger this cold and indifferent in a long time.
They reached a hand out, palm up. Wukong looked at it and then at their expectant expression. He hesitantly held their gloved hand and gave it a firm shake. Dr. Ding raised an eyebrow.
“The cat,” they said when Wukong tilted his head quizzically, raising their chin to gesture at the cat in his lap. “Can you hand me the cat?”
Wukong flushed with humiliation and tugged away his hand as if burned. He barely registered the suffocated gasps of breath when Pigsy muffled his snickering in a sleeve as his own head seemed to go fuzzy with overheating. He lifted the nervous cat into the veterinarian’s hand, which hadn’t moved since Wukong’s stupid handshake.
They reached their other hand up and expertly cradled her body, settling her down on the metal table with little cushioning.
“How many weeks is she?”
“ Uhh– I’m not sure, maybe less than a year old? She seems pretty small.”
“I meant the pregnancy .”
“Oh.” Wukong fumbled with his bag, taking out a tacky red calendar he got for free as a Lunar New Year’s freebie along with his box of peach chips. “At least five -ish weeks.”
Dr. Ding hummed. They muttered to themself while looking over her body and scribbling notes with the other hand, “Declawed… big scar on throat… shaved parts… at least the stomach’s already shaved…” It sounded bad just from what Wukong could hear and he wanted to explain himself, that she already had most of those since before he took her home, but there was a lump lodged in his throat and he just fidgeted with his fingers instead.
The doctor paused, “ Huh .”
“What?” Wukong tensed. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, it’s just a little surprising. All things considered, I thought she’d have a few fleas in her hair, too. But it seems like you’ve got that taken care of,” they gave him a look.
The tips of Wukong’s ears pinkened with embarrassment. “Oh, well, y’know, haha ,” he tripped over his words a few times. “I have sharp eyes, I guess, it wasn’t too hard to find all the fleas. Took them out. With my fingers. Washed them down the drain, of course .” He winced as he thought about the way he popped each bug into his mouth, chewing as a snack. He doubted this human would find that particular habit of his species anything pleasant.
Pigsy snorted next to him and Wukong lightly kicked him, earning a soft ‘yowch’ followed by an annoyed glare.
“Can you hold her for me?” they asked and Wukong almost made a move to stand up before he noticed they were referring to someone at the doorway. A blonde person without a white coat but wearing plain, blue garbs and a name tag walked in, giving Pigsy and Wukong a polite smile before doing as instructed. Wukong felt a bit uneasy with people pressing the pregnant cat like that, but he supposed they were both more professional and experienced than he was during her grooming and de-collaring session.
Dr. Ding shuffled around her fur as she laid on her back, pointing out different parts of her belly and explaining the entire process as they squeezed liquid on the shaved part of her belly and Wukong mindlessly nodded along. Then, an image popped up on the computer as they pressed a probing device on her skin.
The image was black and white, distorted and ugly and indistinguishable, and Wukong wondered if the screen was loading. Then, it stayed distorted and ugly and indistinguishable but warped around as the veterinarian shuffled the probe around, “So, that’s a heartbeat. Another few right there, and you can see a little skull over here–”
“WHAT?!” he jumped up from his chair.
The other three people in the room turned to look at him and the cat meowed in surprise, but his shock easily outweighed any embarrassment he would’ve felt from the attention.
“What is that?” he glanced from one face to the other for some explanation. The blonde assistant muffled a giggle behind their mask.
“The babies, genius,” said Pigsy in an exasperated voice.
“Why are they black and white? She’s orange furred–” a gasp, “did they all inherit the dad’s genes?”
Pigsy sighed from behind him.
“And why are they naked? I mean– where’s everything else? Their skin? Has it not grown yet?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the veterinarian. “What did you do to them?”
“Sit down,” Pigsy grabbed Wukong by the back of his hoodie and tugged, making him fall back into his seat.
“I thought the inside of the stomach was supposed to be red with blood or whatever,” he couldn’t stop rambling. “Why’s it all dark and blurry? I’d, like, totally get claustrophobic if I was stuck in that , HAH!”
“ King . Shut it.” Wukong clamped his mouth shut and recoiled at the feeling of Pigsy’s firm but threatening hand on his shoulder.
He withered, “Yes, Pigsy.”
“Apologize to the doc.”
“I’m sorry,” he lowered his head before stealing a glance at the veterinarian.
Surprisingly, they were laughing, both them and their assistant, shoulders shaking silently with each jostle. It was the first time Wukong saw the veterinarian smile since they walked into the room. “First time seeing an ultrasound, I presume?” they quirked their lips, not unkindly.
“Sandy was also overly excited the first time he brought a cat over for a scan,” Dr. Ding sighed fondly, as if reminiscing on an old friend.
“Although he was less worried about the black and white, and was more concerned about how much he needed to pay to get the sonograms printed,” the assistant added teasingly.
Wukong tried chuckling at the joke again and the atmosphere felt a lot friendlier than it did at the beginning.
~
The sun was setting by the time they stood outside the clinic with two sonograms printed on one page. The cat was back into the sling on Monkey King’s chest as he critically assessed the scans.
“Not bad,” Pigsy nudged his shoulder, prompting them both to start walking. “Was that your first doctor’s visit?”
Monkey King hummed before some sort of realization dawned on him. “Oh yeah!” His eyes widened as he looked at Pigsy, betrayed. “Why did you barely say anything? You left me for the dogs , I was about to go feverish from embarrassment!”
“C’mon you did fine!” Pigsy rolled his eyes. “‘Sides, it’s your cat.”
Monkey King frowned, looking at the ground as he walked. “She’s not my cat,” he muttered.
Pigsy raised his eyebrows, “You stole it?”
“What? No! I told you, I found her! ”
“Uh huh,” Pigsy teased. “I totally believe that.”
Monkey King groaned in frustration and glared at their moving feet, “Whatever.” It didn’t seem like the King even noticed Pigsy took them on a different, longer route than the one they walked on the way to the clinic. This guy would be so easy to kidnap. Second location would be child’s play .
“What’s wrong?” Pigsy casually urged.
“I just— no , it’s stupid.”
Pigsy rolled his eyes. “C’mon, just say it,” he pushed.
Monkey King exhaled harshly, eyebrows furrowed, “Okay. I just don’t think of her as, like, permanent . Does that make sense?” He continued without waiting for an answer, “I took her back to the hut for whatever reason, I cleaned her and tried to take care of her, but I can’t do it properly . I mean, I didn’t even know what foods could’ve poisoned her until Sandy told me. Can you imagine how many times I almost killed her?!” he shouted, eyes wild and uncaring of the weird looks he got from any passersby.
He sighed, ”I needed to find someone else to take her in and give her a good home, but her pregnancy is just gonna prolong her stay for a lot longer than I expected and I dunno if I could handle that. Sandy couldn’t take her in ‘cause he said something about new environments being stressful or whatever.” His hand caressed the big lump in the sling from outside the fabric. Pigsy didn’t know if Monkey King was even conscious of that movement. “I dunno, I don’t wanna fuck it all up for her.”
“Wow, that is pretty stupid,” Pigsy agreed.
“Thanks, Pigsy,” the King muttered sarcastically.
“So you’re feedin’ her, she’s stayin’ in your house, she’s attached to you,” Pigsy listed off his fingers. “Sounds like your cat to me.”
“She’s not attached to me,” Monkey King denied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, even with the pregnant cat sleeping peacefully against his chest. “She’s just clever enough to cling to me for food and shelter, and she knows I will protect her. Once she has her babies and is strong enough to find a safer and better home, she’ll be able to leave without looking back,” he bit his lip. “I’m just worried I might screw up before that happens.”
Pigsy hummed, “Now that sounds like a load of bullcrap. S’that why you didn’ name her?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Not like I can come up with anything good anyways.”
“Can I have a jab at it?”
“At what? Naming her?”
Pigsy nodded, “Yeah, a nickname, so I have somethin’ to call the poor fella other than just ‘cat’ .”
Monkey King gave a strained laugh, “Sure. Can’t be as bad as Mk’s.”
Pigsy rubbed his chin in thought, “Honey.”
“Honey?” Monkey King repeated.
“Honey bun ,” Pigsy added with a satisfied smirk.
“That is pretty cute,” the King begrudgingly agreed.
Pigsy grinned, “I know.”
They made it back to the noodle shop. Thanks to the longer route they took, the sky was already dark enough for the street lights to turn on.
Pigsy waved a casual goodbye and was about to head inside to do a once-over before heading home, but Monkey King suddenly grabbed his arm. It almost triggered his automatic fight or flight because of the years of rough living engraved in his bones, but he remembered the pregnant cat in the King’s sling and managed to hold back.
He turned around, giving the King what he hoped was an irritated and exasperated look, “What?”
“The, uh ,” Monkey King waved the sonograms in his other hand. He had it clutched tightly the entire walk despite his obvious dissatisfaction with the quality of the scans. “These photos. How much did it all cost?”
Pigsy raised his eyebrows, bemused, “What, ya gonna pay me back?”
“Well, obviously,” Monkey King frowned.
Pigsy shrugged his hold off with a huff, “Heh, don’t worry ‘bout it. It was just practically spare change,” he lied. The ultrasound was a pretty good deal thanks to Sandy being a long time client and often doing volunteer work for the clinic, the people there were nice enough to give discounts whenever he went with Pigsy’s health card. This time included, even though Sandy wasn’t there himself.
Still, it costed a bit of a pretty penny. Probably just two whole days of hard labour and booming business at the noodle shop would be enough to fill the dent it left in Pigsy’s wallet. Not that he cared about the King that much, but Honey Buns was cute enough to make the money well spent. It could be considered her pregnancy gift, or whatever.
“Really?” Monkey King’s expression was so trusting, eyes twinkling from the street light’s reflection, and Pigsy internally groaned. He almost felt bad for lying, even though it was a white lie. It was the same nervous, pure look the King had given him in that dim storage room when he first agreed to lend him his health card. Reminded him of Mk in some way.
“Yeah,” he gruffed as he harshly ruffled Monkey King’s hair, forcing the King’s height to duck down and knocking off his hood and his sunglasses askew in the process, earning him an indignant grunt. “I already got all that money back just from what we saved by walkin’ to the clinic.” And Monkey King seemed to believe him wholeheartedly.
Maybe Mk was right. He really had gone soft.