Chapter 10: Send Noodles

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Authors Notes: Things will be getting interesting soon

Until the Lights go out

Chapter 10

Send Noodles

"I can't drive!!" Yomi climbed from Tyla's shoulder onto Tangs and held onto his Hanfu. She had traded out her usual Gi for a working uniform. It would be a lot easier to clean. She however didn't too much like taking off the tiger skin she won fair and square. But people kept eyeing her.

"Can't drive?" MK asked, looking rather amazed. "I figured you'd at least have learned in the last two hundred years." he sat down in the cart and cleared his throat.

"Well I've read manuals, but I've never had a car, or came in contact with one to get the chance to try." Okay that made more sense to MK.

"There are classes you can take at the local schools."

"I don't have the money." Tyla told him. It was true. All the money she had was from offerings at the temple and most of it went to the care and upkeep of their daily lives. It wasn't much, but it at least put food on the table, clothing, and things to wash with. Once in a blue moon they were able to get some mochi or noodles. Raya got a job at the flower shop in order to care for Yomi when they could. Birthdays were a big thing since it was the only time they were able to get her presents which mostly consisted of one small toy, and a sweet. Now that they both had jobs maybe they could do something for a holiday too.

Tang sighed watching them drive off. He looked up at Yomi and walked her inside.

"So you want to hear about your dad huh?" He pulled out a book and held it out to her. Yomi looked almost fascinated about it. At least before she looked back up at Tang expectantly.

"She's only three years old Mr. Tang, she's only been given instructions on how to read, and we've started to teach her, her ABC, but that's as far as she goes." Raya was wiping down the tables that were just vacated. Tang looked down at Yomi as he sat down beside her.

"Alright then, I think its a safe bet that you haven't read the key story about your father yet? Journey to the West." Tang began to read the story.

Later on in the evening MK and Tyla walked back into the restaurant Yomi was hanging from the ceiling fan and Tang was trying his best to coax her down. Pigsy didn't even bother to help him.

"Ah come on, I just suggested you take a nap. You don't have to get all huffy about it." Tang picked up a chair and placed it under the fan and tried to reach her again. She jumped from one fan to the next out of his reach.

"Uh..." MK looked at Tyla. She looked unamused. Her eyes went down to Tang.

"It'll be easy, what could possibly go wrong?" She looked at MK and cleared her throat.

"NO...peaches." Tyla pointed at Yomi who gasped and climbed down onto her shoulder and pouted. "She's stubborn, and head strong. You have to speak the way they understand. If she knows she can't get there after nap treat...she'll go all apologetic. Now what do you say to Mr. Tang."

"I'm sorry." She hid in Tylas hair.

"And..."

"Thank you for watching me. It was a good story." She looked out of Tyla's hair and jumped when she saw Wukong standing in the doorway.

"So Mei had to come upstairs to get me because you weren't behaving." He crossed his arms and glared down at his youngest. "Jumping onto the furniture like that Yomi isn't good. You could break something, and Pigsy would be mad."

"Might even kick us out." Tyla cleared her throat interjecting.

"Hey don't bring me into this." He chuckled looking down at Yomi. "But...its not good to go jumping around all together. Dust can get into peoples food. But luckily no ones here. We're closing up the restaurant. So...go wash your hands and I'll give you something to eat." Yomi gasped and jumped down to go into the bathroom.

"Food speaks miles for kids." Wukong chuckled. "At least nothing was broken."

"Nah she was an angel."

"Angel! I'm never babysitting again." Tang threw his arms in the air.

"Light weight." Raya said from the bathroom, a bucket in hand. "That wasn't even the worst that she's done."

"Not the worst...she's..." Tang swooned. Having to hold onto the side of a booth.

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