Chapter Text
Forever is a long time. Wukong knew that better than anyone.
Despite what some people may think, Sun Wukong was not a foolish monkey. He did stupid things in the past, stupider things in the present; but he was far from stupid himself. He's the "Intelligent Stone Monkey", after all.
It had been small, at first. Just enough to be unnoticeable. Monkeys hanging just a bit closer to that resting place, closer and closer every other day.
(He couldn't bring himself to call it a grave. His friend wasn't dead, he was resting; stuck in a bedroom of dirt. Sleeping forever… He may be still struggling to cope.)
Then, it got bigger. Monkeys bringing fruits to the plant flushed area. He couldn't bring himself to ask them not to go there- Macaque needed the friends.
He was sleeping he was not dead-
They brought offerings to it, chirped about it when they thought their king couldn't hear; Wukong didn't say a word, only silently thought the place was cursed to get revenge on him. He was too -scared terrified distressed- busy to ever check.
Then, it got the biggest it could've.
It was his third training session with the kid. They were taking a break; he'd gone inside to get drinks and when he returned, his successor was gone.
He was not Macaque, but he was still The Monkey King; he could hear the kid from a distance away, getting farther. The little ones had dragged him away, again. He had sighed and let them, he understood their excitement far too well.
Eventually, the kid got out of range of his hearing; he sat patiently, waiting.
Now, 40 minutes later, the kid came running back into the grounds in front of his house. Looking like he saw a ghost, but somehow not in a scared way..?
More like he'd just unearthed a mystery a thousand years in the waiting.
Wukong felt like he already knew what happened.
Heavy breathing came from the kid, like he'd ran a marathon to get there. Wukong put on a relaxed smile, hoping it hid his worry enough.
"Whoa, bud, relax! Wh-"
"THERE'S A GHOST IN YOUR BACKYARD. "
What.
"Kid-"
"You probably already knew that because you're the Monkey King obviously but why didn't you tell me? Not that you have to tell me everything I mean I just started and I get if you're saving big stuff for later-"
"BUD."
The young man finally stopped his rambling, looking at his mentor with, seemingly, slight embarrassment.
"Are you sure the heat's not getting to you? I mean, hallucinations is a symptom of a heatstroke, isn't it-"
"You think I'm lying. "
That got Wukong to shut up, glancing back at the kid with slightly wide eyes. The kid's voice was indifferent, but it was obvious to everyone he was upset.
MK was an open book, much like Wukong himself. A kid just that bit too much like himself. That's what Macaque would've said.
(He needs to stop thinking about Macaque so much. Maybe it's because the kid reminded him of the moon, too. Jeez, he sounded like Macaque with that one.)
"Bud, it's not that- okay, "
Wukong took in a deep breath, wrangling his thoughts together.
"It's not that I don't believe you, it's that I've never seen anything like that before. But, look, if it means this much to you.. Let's go check it out, together, okay? "
(Wow, he's actually communicating somewhat well, Macaque would be proud.)
The kid gave a smile, determined yet small. He grabbed the Monkey King's hand (It burned slightly. He may or may not have been touch starved).
"Okay Lego! "
And the kid tugged. Hard. Sending the two of them flying. Wukong took a deep breath as they went. Despite how.. Poor mentor-ish it may seem, he really wished the kid was just having heat stroke induced hallucinations.
Because the Monkey King is not stupid. He knew exactly where they were heading.
Sun Wukong was a coward in his earlier years. He knew that well.
And maybe, as they stepped into that beautiful field of Forget-me-nots and simple gravestone, he still was.
His right hand was slightly shaking, gripping itself in a desperate effort to keep nonexistent claws sheathed.
(He couldn't hurt anyone again)
MK didn't seem to notice his strife, not yet at least, as he smiled and waved at someone who wasn't there.
"Macaque! "
Ah. That was Wukong's breaking point.
"Bud- I think we should leave. "
The kid glanced back at him, a slight confusion plastered on his face.
"But we just got here. "
His reasoning was very logical and made so much sense; but nothing in Wukong's head was computing anything right now.
A small moment of silence, a gust of wind, a flutter of butterfly wings
"Monkey King is not a coward! Tell him, Monkey King-"
Wukong turned on his heel and fled.
-
Macaque couldn't help but scoff as Wukong turned away and left. It'd been many years since he fully blamed the Monkey King, fully hated him; but he couldn't help but keep some of the spite he had gained. Wukong was still his murderer, after all.
no matter how much he still loved him
Monkey King aside, Macaque was somewhat worried about MK. It looked like he just had his favorite drawing burned to shreds.
(He had learned MK was an artist during their small chat. The kid promised him a picture.
Macaque was too embarrassed to tell the kid he was one, too.)
"Kiddo, are you-"
"I'm sorry. "
MK glanced over at Macaque, taking a breath and walking over. Sitting down next to the living corpse, he looked up at the monkey.
"I'm guessing you guys know each other?"
MK stated. Despite what he initially thought, MK wasn't obvious. Quite the opposite. Kid was pretty damn perceptive.
"Something like that. "
Macaque sighed, glancing back at his grave. He let a hand traveled to his gashed skull, tracing it with a finger
"Okay, I know it's your death wound thingy but please never do that again-"
"Yea, okay. That's fair. "
A comfortable silence overtook the two. At least, comfortable for Macaque; MK looked like he was about to explode. He gently rocked back and forth, glancing around fanatically.
"MK, if you wanna say something, just say it. "
"Did Monkey King murder you? "
Okay, right into the hard hitting spots. MK didn't seem to have a filter, not that Macaque had one either.
"How old are you? "
Macaque, amazingly, did not want to traumatize a teenager. As funny as it could be, he did actually like the kid quite a bit.
"23."
Okay, so not as bad. Macaque simply nodded. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, one of the many practices he took on over the endless years, he sighed.
"He did. "
The kid seemed to have known the answer all along. It was obvious under every definition of the word, still, it's most likely he just didn't want to believe it. And Gods, he couldn't blame the kid.
He didn't want to believe it, either.
Before MK could say a word, Macaque placed a gentle hand on the kid's back.
"It's probably why I'm still here, but I don't really blame him as much as I did back then. We both made a lot of mistakes that day, we both did and said stupid shit. He-"
Another deep breath. He could get through this. He needed to.
"He killed me, which is unforgivable. But I forced him into that choice. I did unforgivable stuff too. For the most part, I've moved on, even if my spirit hasn't. "
MK continued to watch, listening closely; like Macaque was explaining the way to achieve immortality. How ironic.
"Unfortunately, because I'm dead, there's not a lot we can do about it. And I don't blame Wukong if he hasn't moved on. He's got a right to be angry. "
Macaque looked back at MK and oh, he was getting this glint in his eyes and a smile on his face. Macaque is not liking that.
"AND- it is not your job to fix that. We missed our chance a long time ago, and that's nobody's fault but our own. You've got better things to do than worry yourself with centuries old monkeys. "
Macaque was not above calling himself old, if it got the point across. MK's smile widened, however. Macaque feels like he potentially backed himself into a corner.
"I know it's not. "
"Kid-"
"But I want to help fix this! "
"MK, don't you dare-"
"So I promise you that I'll fix your guys' broken marriage! "
"I'm sorry our WHAT-"
And MK was rushing off, before Macaque could say another word.
This kid was going to be the second death of him.
-
Having a panic attack in his hut was not something he planned today; but it was hard to have plans when you're the Monkey King.
Still, this sucked. It really sucked.
For the most part, Wukong had calmed down. Peach Soda doing a considerable amount, surprisingly. Once upon a time, Macaque told him he was a "stress eater".
It still holds up today.
The coldness of the can grounded him, soothing his flaming hands as he slowly steadied his breathing. He had tried his best not to cry, for the sake of his protege seeing him with tear streaks. However, panic attacks do not, in fact, care about what you want.
Taking another drink from the can, his fifth one, it breathed life into his stone lungs. A gasp that felt like finally breaching the water's surface, finally breathing again.
According to MK, Macaque was there. A ghost. Still there. It almost made him spiral all over again.
Standing up, he wandered over to his bathroom. A quick splash in the face brought him closer to reality; he stared into the reflection of a monkey he didn't quite recognize as himself, currently. Glamours held tight, almost choking him.
Macaque had not been reborn. Had maybe not even gone to Diyu. He was sitting there, for centuries, alone with himself. Once again, he almost spirals.
A small yet shining voice comes to his head, sounding a bit too much like his Master.
He could potentially fix their friendship-
No. That was the most selfish thing he'd ever thought. He had killed Macaque. Had buried him in the dirt. He had no right to step forward and beg for forgiveness, no right to put himself back in front of Macaque.
Meticulously trimmed fingernails clawed at the flesh of his hand. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with unneeded air. He had no right.
The knock at the shack's front door reminded Wukong that, right, he had a kid on his mountain. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he walked to the living room and opened the door.
"Hey, Bud. "
He tried to sound more excited, less affected by the events that just occurred.
But he was failing miserably.
The kid raised an eyebrow, almost expecting an explanation from Wukong.
Which he was not getting. MK's face gave away to an embarrassed look.
"I'm sorry, Monkey King, I didn't mean to freak you out. "
Wukong smiled.
"Bud, don't worry about it! You're like, 12, you're allowed to make mistakes. "
He took on that fake chillness, throwing an arm around MK's shoulder.
MK gave him what was certainly A look.
"I'm 23-"
"Pffsh, mortal things. "
MK gave an exaggerated eye roll. Too much like his old friend.
"Anyyyway. We should get back to training. "
Wukong stated, placing his free hand on his hip.
"Wouldn't want you to get rusty! "
MK only smiled, the topic of ghosts forgotten in training. At least, by MK.
-
When MK returned, it was only about a week later. Physically, the kid looked fine, mentally? Looked like he just drowned a thousand times over.
"Hey, kid. "
Macaque simply said, watching as the other walked over. Promptly flopping face first into the flowers.
"You, uh, wanna talk about it? "
"I got trapped in a jug that made the world seem perfect but in reality I got kidnapped by two demons. "
MK said in a single breath, before burying his head back into the flowers.
"Oookkay then. I'm guessing you're just here to relax?"
Macaque asked in a hum, looking at the tired human. He didn't respond, but it was kinda obvious.
"Also, don't you have training right now? "
MK let out a loud, obnoxious groan, not giving a hint that he was moving anytime soon. Macaque didn't mind, but Wukong might have to come get the kid himself, at this rate.
Oh well.
Wukong's student was missing, technically; unfortunately, he knew exactly where the kid was. A deep breath, another step forward.
He could do this. He wouldn't stay long, he wouldn't encroach on Macaque's turf. He was simply getting his kid and leaving. That's all.
He swears, he's going to make MK do extra training to make up for this.
Another breath, he steps onto the white Forget-me-nots that line the clearing. Breathe.
"Kid! "
Wukong yells, seeing the bright yellow sticking out easily. MK didn't move, didn't even acknowledge his presence. Triple extra training.
The wind blows, and Wukong freezes.
"I don't wannnnaaa. "
MK complains. Was.. Macaque trying to get MK to go? Another breath, his hands are shaking. The wind cools them.
"Bud, if you don't get up, you're gonna have to do quadruple training. "
Wukong stated, placing his hands on his hips to hopefully stop the training.
"You skipped like 2 numbers. "
MK responded. He was really picking up stuff from Macaque, huh?
Don't think about it too much don't spiral not now
"Cause I decided that you already have to do triple for ditching me! "
Wukong stated, making his voice sound confident, controlled. The wind blew.
"Macaque says that doesn't make sense."
"Macaque can bite it, he's not the one training you! "
It comes out automatically, falling into old playful jabs that were left behind in the past. For a second, he believes he's ruined it all-
But the wind seems to laugh.
"Macaque, you're supposed to be on my side! "
MK complains profusely, looking at where the spirit is supposed to be. The wind blows again. MK groans.
"Macaque says you have a good point. "
Wukong smiles lightly, the wind has cooled his hands to a chill.
-
When Wukong returns to the grave, MK has gone home for the day. He is alone, his hands shake; but the wind cools them. It feels like sorrow in the softest way possible.
He didn't know how to start this conversation. Shifting nervously, he slowly stepped over to the small grave. Each breath, a new step. Something to ground him. The petals licked at his feet, he breathed.
Sitting down in front of the stone brought him back to centuries ago, when he first placed it. It had withstood the test of time,
Cracks and plants driving into it; it stood tall. It had been cleaned, recently, most likely by MK or the many monkeys that hung around. The wind rushed by his side, it wasn't hard to identify it as his lost best friend.
"Hey."
Wukong said softly, voice shaking as he did. Hands burning, wind chilling; he felt like it was comfort, but it was wishful thinking. Why would the other comfort his murderer?
"Uh."
Wukong looked down, fidgeting with his hands as his tail thumped against the flowers.
"Thanks for.. Looking out for the kid. MK, I mean. "
He really should've rehearsed this; but he wasn't as good on the stage as Macaque was.
He gently picked up one of the flowers, uprooting it in a swift motion. It dangled, dancing in the cold wind.
"Gods, how do I say this? "
He took a deep breath.
"I want your help, training MK. "
The wind stops for a second. Wukong feels as if he's fucked up, but he keeps going.
"I've never been good at patience, you know that. And the kid needs it, he's just as bad as me when it comes to mediating and- I'm rambling. "
Another deep breath, he can do this.
"You don't have to, but I thought since he visits you constantly- it's something better to do then just sit in silence. "
He holds the flower out with his palm flat.
"If you're, uh, down to do that. Just.. Blow this out of my hand as far as you can. I don't have a better way to get confirmation. "
A small laugh, it's not that funny.
Silence feels like minutes and minutes feel like hours. A full minute passes, by the end of it Wukong is about to give up and-
The flower is wished from his hand. He can't help but smile.
"Thanks."
He simply says, before fleeing.
He asks the monkeys to bring some fruit, later.
-
Wukong returns a few afternoons later. Macaque is not surprised (and he really didn't want to go back to saying that).
He wanders into his garden, as skittish as ever, and sits in front of his resting place. Gently, he picks a flower; it seems the method they used yesterday will continue.
He clutches, crumbling the petals but keeping it safe from the gentle wind that follows the spirit. Macaque feels like there's a metaphor, somewhere in there, but he's too tired to find it.
"Hey. "
The golden monkey begins, a repeat of yesterday's beginnings.
"I.. Canceled MK's training. Hope you're not too mad. Needed the day to talk to you, though. "
The wind chills Wukong's bones in a way he can not describe. The petals sway.
"Thought I'd go over a training plan and schedule. Update you on what I'm training him and all. "
Wukong smiles, he can almost hear the other's comeback of 'since when did you learn how to schedule?'
"I know what you're probably thinking."
Wukong states, pulling out scrolls of plans and a calendar with dates checked off. His handwriting was still horrible after all this time.
"'Wukong! You don't plan things, you just do!' Usually, you'd be right; but, but, but! I took time out of my incredibly busy day to write it all down for you. "
Plucking out a few hairs, Wukong quickly turns them into tape and sticks the papers onto the grave. Wukong smiles at his handy work.
"There, now you can keep up with us. "
A flower petal is gently ripped from the flower in his hand. It is, then, blown into his face.
Wukong and the wind laugh. They continue "talking" until the moon rises high in the sky.