The master Sanzang’s three youngest disciples- Ao Lie, Bajie, and Wujing- were left with no other choice. They had to draw straws.
Holding their breath, each nervously selected their respective sticks from Wujing’s scaly grip. After a brief moment, Ao Lie and Wujing cried out celebratory cheers as Bajie’s heart clenched up in dread.
“No fair!” Bajie threw his accursedly short stick to the ground and whirled on the others. “You two did this on purpose!”
“How did we do it on purpose second brother?” Ao Lie snarked, “It’s a game of chance!”
“You must’ve found a way to cheat! Here, let’s go again, only this time I’ll hold the straws.”
“Fuck no!” Wujing shouted.
“ You’re the one who suggested it in the first place Bajie, so deal with it. Go tell him.” Grumbling as the two smirked triumphantly at him, (Ao Lie more than Wujing, as the fish’s face could only portray so much expression) the pig gathered every shred of confidence and false bravery he could muster (which turned out to not be all that much) and marched across the wide clearing to where the eldest disciple, Wukong, was perched lazily on a tall tree’s branch.
Someone had to tell Wukong their master had been kidnapped after all, a fact they knew all too well after the whole locust demon incident. (Bajie still had a twinge in his right leg from the injuries he’d gotten. Not from the demon, oh no , but from what Wukong did when the three tried to retrieve Sanzang before telling him the monk had been captured in the first place.) So yes, in theory Bajie knew that someone needed to tell the monkey.
He just hated that it had to be him. Again.
(Later, while nursing his black eye and swollen jaw as the others discussed how to infiltrate the demon stronghold, Bajie resolutely promised himself he’d be the one to hold the straws next time around.)