You Monkey Me

“I won’t join the Malaki Raja’shun.”

Rakshal stood before his aunt in Qudu Madraku, dressed and ready to travel for several months. She smiled, and though he knew she would have supported either of his decisions, he could tell she was relieved.

“May I ask why?” she asked.

He looked away, towards the statue further behind her. “I couldn’t suppress my hate for the empire even if I tried…” He focused on her, lower lip quirking. “Also, it’d be too great an insult to my family’s strife.”

Her expression softened in understanding.

A sudden shout outside brought their attention to the open doorway. Nothing happened after a moment, causing him to narrow an eye with suspicion.

“What will you do instead?”

He shrugged, turning to face her. "What I should have done since I arrived. I’ll develop my bodaiiva with the help of another shishen; you probably know of him.”

“Igni?” She asked, smiling when he softly chuckled. “I do hope you’ll get along; he’s your age.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I believe you will. I hope to see you again, Rakka. You’ll always have a place to stay as long as it’s within my power.” She opened her arms, and he didn’t hesitate to accept her hug.

He let his eyes close, savoring her warmth for what could be the last time. “Shiayni, Yiba.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he parted. She bowed as he turned to leave, and he approached the doorway just as his companions outside started up again.

He peeked around the corner to see Jakumar and Quan talking adamantly about something at the left side of the building.

“What’s going on?” He stopped on the second stair.

Grey and teal eyes looked at him. “Well,” Jakumar sighed, crossing his arms defensively, “I told this idiot about Aashubhanay’s snake in my clothes and he laughed. Now he’s got one, too.”

Quan groaned, slapping Jakumar’s thick arm with the back of his palm. “How the fuck was I supposed to know there was another!”

“Doesn’t matter, you made fun of a god!”

“I wasn’t making fun of him, I was making fun of you, dumbass!”

Cocking his head to the side, Rakshal looked between the friends who appeared as though they were about to wrestle again. “Wait, what other snake?”

Jakumar briefly ignored him, grabbing Quan’s whole face and throwing him to the side.

“You fuck—!”

An amused teal gaze turned to address Rakshal as Quan tumbled over the ground. “One of the snakes you had slithered into his pants.”

“No! Fuck!” Quan shuddered, rising to his feet with a deep grimace. “You got one, too!”

Jakumar returned to his usual pose of crossed arms. “Yours is bigger.”

“The fuck it is!”

Rakshal shook his head. “Ridiculous,” he muttered while walking down the stairs. He then moved between them, preventing them from going at each other. “Maybe this means Aashubhanay’ll be able to help us if we’re in need.”

A familiar hum. “Maybe.”

They spun around to see the snake god himself sitting lazily on the steps, draped over it like he was there the whole time.

The smile on his face widened when Quan practically tripped over himself in shock. “S’long as y’all don’t plan on doin’ nothin’ foolishlike.”

Rakshal glanced at his companions as they blanched. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever. You’re lucky no one’s seen you. Can you go poof somewhere else?”

The smile turned lopsided, and the snake god hummed deeply before splaying his large hands. “Poof.”

He disappeared.

Rakshal groaned while Quan demanded, “How old is he again?”

“Young,” Jakumar lamented, hands in his pockets.

“Will you two—? We’re not kids, dammit.” Rakshal glared, looking them up and down. “And you two aren’t even that much older than us.”

“We’re at least a hundred years older than you both,” Quan scoffed, returning the look. A thoughtful expression suddenly came to his face. “How old are you anyway?”

"I'll tell you if you tell me how old you two are."

"Twohundred thirtyfive."

"Twohundred eighty," said Jakumar.

"Alright. Fine. You're much older than me..." Rakshal crossed his arms. "I'm ninetysix."

Quan stuck out his tongue, flashing his piercing in the light. "Knew it."

Returning the gesture of insult, Rakshal added a low growl. “Fuck off.”

Jakumar moved to stand between them, then practically choked them both as he wrapped muscular arms around their necks. “We ought to get something to eat before we go our ways, eh?”

“An’ I know just the place.”

They fell over as Jakumar jumped at Igni’s presence beside him. The pale smile grew two times wider, no doubt at their expense.

“Stop, goddammit!” Rakshal threw Jakumar off of him and stepped away, unaccustomed to all the foolishness.

As a hissing chuckle emitted from Igni, Jakumar held a hand over his heart, and Quan rose from the ground, he spun around to swear at them beneath his breath.

But.

He hid a small smile.

A hoot from Goku brought his attention to the shortest roof of the temple. The monkey jumped to his shoulder and immediately placed a hand to his chin before signing that he was happy.

He looked away, but his smile grew crooked in a poor attempt to prevent it from forming. Glancing at the three men, he took a moment to consider them.

Perhaps this was what it was like to have…friends.

People stared openly, slackjawed and bugeyed. Neither of the three men could miss the gazes that briefly darted at them with apprehension, confusion, fear, and seldom curiosity as the tall, pale god strolled ahead of them. Most interestingly, the latter gazes came from children. Rakshal thanked the gods above that the city wasn’t as heavily populated as it had been just a few days ago; there was no telling how anyone would have reacted then.

Igni started leading the way the moment they left Qudu Monastery, and none of them—Rakshal, Jakumar, or Quan—were stupid enough to complain about why they didn’t use a less open path to their destination. As it was, they traveled on a wide, moderately populated street to…somewhere. Rakshal believed it was a restaurant, if he recalled what the snake god said, but that meant something which contradicted the little knowledge he had on Igni.

Aashubhanay, the bashmut and godeating deity.

His lips quirked to the side and tightened.

Maybe those are exaggerations.

He tossed a glance at his other companions.

“Why are we doing this?” Quan whispered—muttered, really.

“Do you wanna deny a bashmuteatin’ god his wishes?” Jakumar hissed, giving his friend a bizarre, wideeyed look.

Quan scowled, but it was halfhearted.

The unsaid words were obvious.

They didn’t want to find out.

Igni turned to the left, startling them from the sudden movement. They quickly followed. The stronger smells of food reached Rakshal’s nose, causing his stomach to clench. He hadn’t noticed how hungry he was.

So we really are going somewhere to eat…

“What’s this place?” Quan asked as they approached a threetiered restaurant named DALKO’S HANGAN.

“Dalko’s Hangan, dumbass,” Jakumar muttered.

Quan rolled his eyes and began to open his mouth to retort when Igni abruptly stopped. They almost crashed into him before simultaneously backing up by several paces.

A wide smile glanced back at them. “No need t’be all vulgar. Don’ be sayin’ such words ‘round me. ‘Kay?”

Three heads bobbled in easy agreement.

The smile widened, then Igni turned and ducked through the restaurant’s open door.

They glanced at one another before following.

Cordial expressions turned to them, only to drop the moment they recognized the older god. This confused Rakshal, but he watched carefully as a woman and two waitstaff quickly bowed. They didn’t even seem to notice Igni wasn’t alone, fixed on his tall white form. Likewise, all conversation and laughter that were once amid the patrons ceased as soon as they noticed him.

The man behind the counter, however, dressed in a short navy blue tunic of a host, opted to give him a simple, cordial nod. Igni returned the nod but remained still until the host came around to lead them.

As they followed Igni, Rakshal’s ear twitched upon hearing someone whisper for eight helpings of gulab jamun. He almost made a face at the thought of a snake god, particularly this one, eating…sweets?

Keeping quiet, he decided to just let this play out.

They followed the host down the large aisle where myriad of heads in shades of brown and blond remained silent and poised downward on both sides. Naturally, those who didn't understand were the young children, eyeing Igni and inquisitive despite the worry from their guardians permeating the air around them.

“We’ll never live this down,” Quan mumbled.

Jakumar just sighed.

Rakshal solemnly agreed, but he took a moment to observe the lavishly decorated interior as they walked. Adorned in silver, reds, and deep navy blues on nearly every surface, it came across as gaudy to his tastes. The restaurant was indeed still a part of Yake Meresta.

The host didn’t take them upstairs but to a doorway with a red curtain hiding an interior from view. Upon arrival, the man moved aside so Igni could part it, revealing a small but comfortablelooking room decorated in black and dark brown with touches of blue and a table in the center.

Igni approached and sat with his back to the curtain. After a moment’s hesitation, Rakshal also parted the curtain, entered, and sat across from the older god at the table. Jakumar and Quan shortly came around to sit at his left and right respectively.

A waitstaff came in just seconds after carrying a teapot and three teacups atop a platter. She approached with her head down, submissive, and came just between Igni and Quan to place the items atop the table.

Holding the platter to her chest, she softly asked, “What would you like?”

“Red chicken curry,” said Rakshal, “with rice.” His easy answer seemed to cut through some of the trepidation, as Jakumar and Quan visibly relaxed.

Quan hummed before waving a hand towards Jakumar. “I’ll have what he gets.”

Broad shoulders rose and fell. “Seafood medley, large.” Jakumar flashed a smile.

The waitstaff gave a nod, then backed up a few steps before turning to leave.

“So,” Igni began the moment she left, “what’ch y’all do after we part?”

Reaching for and pouring himself some tea, Rakshal replied, “I got a better question. What’s a smuggler and a pirate quartermaster doing in Yake Meresta?”

Quan sighed heavily, as if disappointed. “I’m on ‘break’ from sailing as ordered by my captain, Fatima.”

“Fatima? Fatima Ruan?” Rakshal asked, his cup inches from his lips. A sly smile was his answer. “I didn’t know you were a member of the Bedilāi Cāzokū.”

“Ah, I was raised by the original captain, BaoJun, before she died, as were my sisters.” Quan reached for some tea. “Fatima is also my older sister, the younger twin of Zurooei. The Bedilāi might be notorious but we’re actually on the side of the Rawaschi and Wasihli; it’s kind of a requirement to join the crew.”

Rakshal cocked a brow. “I don’t see how anyone who believes in the Wasihli ascension to the throne can be a pirate, but whatever,” he muttered.

“I’m planning on leaving the city,” said Jakumar, leaning back and raising a leg to rest his arm over it. “Since you two will be leaving as well, I guess I’ll be with you for a short while before we part.” He motioned to Igni and Rakshal.

“I plan on hanging out in Chicheol for a while.” Quan shrugged. “Might as well.

“My mom’s in the city, though,” said Rakshal. “Wouldn’t that be a problem for you?”

“Yeah, she can go anywhere, probably, with imperial permission, but I doubt she’ll directly enter Chicheol…” Quan put his cup to his mouth, tacking on, “hopefully.”

Both Rakshal and Jakumar passed him a look, but the pirate merely gave a confident smile.

Footsteps approached their room, followed shortly by the same waitstaff entering with a small platter carrying Igni’s gulab jamun. She placed it in front of him, bowed, and left.

A black tongue flicked out, but Igni didn’t move. “I don’ mind waitin’,” he explained. “This’s m’first time bein’ with comp’ny.”

Rakshal hummed. “I’ve been wondering for a while now. Why don’t you show your eyes?”

A pregnant, awkward silence followed his question. Igni’s simple smile remained fixed on his face, and he, once again, did not move.

Swallowing his tea, Rakshal pointedly decided to act as if nothing happened, though he did exchange a glance with Jakumar.

Quan on the other hand, stared darkly at him, inaudibly demanding why he would ask such a question with wide eyes.

Quietly, Rakshal shot him an incredulous look back. He was just curious, and the older god decided not to answer. Simple as that.

Huffing softly, Quan rubbed his forehead before taking another cup of tea, muttering something Rakshal didn’t catch.

Their food came at once on a large platter the waitstaff held with both hands. Someone had helped her part the curtain, and she repeated her quiet leave after placing the bowls on the table. Rakshal stared at Jakumar and Quan’s obscenely large bowls, eyes squinting as he tried to comprehend Quan’s lean frame taking all of that in.

Rakshal prayed before eating, as did Quan, but Jakumar did not.

Curious.

They ate in comfortable silence. During it, Rakshal observed how Igni ate his food.

The snake god’s tongue flicked out to taste the syrup and cheesy pastry, humming softly with appreciation. He rolled up a sleeve, revealing perfectly pale white skin, and used his single khopt utensil to poke into his first piece. He brought it to his mouth, and slipped it past his lips.

Rakshal almost frowned as the god made a soft sound of contentment. So, maybe he doesn’t eat people after all…

After eating, they paid for their food, thanked the staff, and left the restaurant with soft but satisfied smiles. It was amusing to Rakshal how the sounds of life returned to the restaurant after only taking a few steps away from it.

“I take my leave,” said Quan after a moment, stretching his arms out in front of him. Jakumar approached, and they clapped each other’s arms in a simple, brief gesture of goodbye. “See you, Rakshal, Ignishen.”

Igni’s smile grew at the honorific. “See ya.”

“Take care, Quan,” said Rakshal, meaning his words.

A crooked smile flashed at him, and the pirate waved a hand as he turned to leave.

“Naravidaa, Rakshal, Ignishen.”

From his place on his speeder, Jakumar gave a onehanded wave. Rakshal barely returned the gesture before the vehicle took to the air. As he watched the man disappear into the distance, he frowned.

The thought of not seeing Jakumar or Quan again made him sad. The corner of his mouth quirked. The knuckleheads had endeared themselves to him, somehow.

Goku climbed onto his head, chirping softly. He cracked a smile. “Now what?” he asked Igni, looking to his right.

Only the white figure wasn’t present. He nearly spun around, wondering how such an obvious form could disappear so easily, when a hissing chuckle met his ears.

“We gotta long way t’go and ain’t got no time t’get ‘ere by foot,” said the older god, his voice seemingly resonating everywhere.

Rakshal looked at the people in the streets. No one else appeared to have heard the dismembered voice, bustling and calling as if all was normal. His head tilted to the side, upper lip twisting in confusion. "Wha—?"

“I got’cha, Raaki.”

“Don’t call me th—” Rich smells of nature and smoke overwhelmed his senses, startling him out of his thoughts.

The world faded from the streets of the city to a dense, verdant landscape at the foot of a massive waterfall. Heat flared his insides, and he emitted a soft pant from the sudden intensity of the jungle’s humidity.

He took a glance around, as if waiting.

He could sense insects and animals for miles, but it was deathly quiet.

He looked up at Goku, who chirped softly with interest. “This is…”

He turned to the nearest tree and climbed it, digging his claws into the thick bark, to reach the canopy. The heat intensified as he climbed, and he felt beads of sweat form on his skin. Once at the top, he brushed some foliage out of his vision to look into the distance.

Mountains spat lava into the air, throwing rocks alit with fire and intense heat over craggy and enflamed land. Red and blue lightning streaked through the black heavens, reflecting in his widening eyes.

Garwados, he thought with a shiver, the middle plane.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

A hissing chuckle brought his attention to Igni, sitting below him on a wiry branch. “Ain’t no better place t’train than ‘ere. Ain’t nobody’ll bother us, and we ain’t gonna bother nobody.”

Rakshal slowly nodded, turning his gaze back to the distant inferno. “When do we start?”

“T’morrow, early an’ bright.” A brief silence, then the god hummed, “This should be fun.”

Lips pursing, Rakshal let the leaves block his sight as he looked away, hands clenching into fists.

Wait for me, Keekaa.