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It took several hours, and several tries, for the pilgrims to get Wukong to stop crying and to leave for a bit the lifeless body he held.
His master promised him to clean his Mihou up, to help giving him the funeral he deserves, so he could have a moment to process.
Wukong started to cry again, more weakly, sobbing in the arms of Ao Lie, like the dragon didn’t nearly face death.
The broken sun kept sobbing while his friends tried to get him to calm down a bit.
-There was nothing else you could do, he went mad
-You saved us, you saved our master, it wasn’t your fault, he wouldn’t stop
But all he could hear was his moonlight talk to him, already knowing what he was going to do. Mihou was right, of course, he always was. But why didn’t he try to run? To not stay with the one who would kill him?
-But I don’t think you’ll cry too much, you’ll forget me soon enough, like you already did
He wasn’t right about that.
He would cry for years, cry so much he would feel like he was collapsing into pieces, just as his heart was. How could he forget his beloved?
The warrior who stayed with him no matter what. The soft, cute, clingy husband he loved so much. The moon who stayed before the sun even if he knew the star would destroy him.
Ao Lie took him to a near river. He stopped crying while looking at his reflection.
He was disgusting. Looking like a mourning husband, while the blood that stained his hands, clothes, and staff, was the blood of his beloved, blood which he was responsible for spilling.
- You’re going to kill me and have the audacity to cry over it. Like you deserve to mourn someone you killed
He didn’t deserve to cry.
He started to clean himself, wiping away the blood so roughly that he was peeling his skin off.
The dragon stopped him; his friend treated him like he deserved kindness. Like he wasn’t meant to suffer for what he did.
He wished his master didn’t take off his circlet. He wished Tang Sanzang had use it to split his head open, instead of letting him kill someone as pure as his Mihou.
His sweet, poor Mihou, who hated to be left alone. Who found every excuse to cuddle him whenever they could. Who had already suffered enough because of him.
He glanced over at reflection of the moon, while Ao Lie was helping him clean himself, giving the fact that he couldn’t be trusted to do it alone.
- You’ll cry for the moonless night that will be your life afterwards
He always called him his moon, since Mihou started calling him his sun. He never got why. Sure, Wukong started to call him his moonlight before that, but that was for the white fur his husband used to have.
Once, his beloved tried to explain it.
“You’re warm and beautiful as the sun, you give life to everyone even when you don’t notice. You’re just so much to handle, sometimes I think I might be blinded by you. It would be okay, though, as long as I can touch you and hear you, I’d be able to survive if I couldn’t see you. The important thing is that I can stay beside you.”
“Why would I blind you?” he didn’t get it, he was so confused “You think that I could hurt you? Because I promise, I can’t even think about it!” Liar.
And his Liu Er laughed softly.
“Of course, you wouldn’t, peaches, maybe I said it wrong.”
“Well duh, you said I’d blind you.”
“What I meant is that I want to stay with you forever, I can’t really life a sunless life, you know?”
“It still doesn’t make that much sense to me.”
“You called your moonlight many times, can’t I call you my Sun?”
“Then I get to call you my moon!”
“You know that the light of the moon comes from the sun?”
“You’re not making sense again, Mihou.”
“You want to know why you don’t get half of the things I say?”
“Of course, oh Great Sage Informing Wind.”
“It’s because when we sneak on the celestial realm, you rob the idiots of some dumb shit or cause some hilarious chaos.”
“Hey! I don’t get only dumb things! I got my trusty staff from a dragon of the sea.”
“While I steal books so that I might know something new every time.”
“Books are boring!”
“I learned from books that the moon is less important than the sun.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“The cooler thing about the moon is that it influences the oceans.” Mihou rested his index on one of his cheeks, like he was really focusing.
“Are you shitting me?! That’s SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO cool!”
“Yeah, but the sun is much more cooler.”
“Total bullshit.”
“Nop.”
“I still prefer the moon!”
“And I still prefer the sun”
“Fine!”
“Why are you pointing about it, I’m just speaking facts here.”
“Because you are my moon, and you are totally cool and handsome!”
He remembered the face of his moonlight turning so red he was fuming.
“Ah! Made you blush! It’s cause you’re totally embarrassed for telling SO MAAAAAAAANY bullshit.”
“You mean so much?”
“Same thing!”
The moonlight’s laugh after that was so sweet, so cute, so perfect. He looked at him like he was falling in love all over again.
He would never see his Mihou laugh for him again.
He would never see his Mihou alive again.
Mihou would never look at the stars with him again. Would never explain something with calm and patience to him, would never make fun of him again.
He left Ao Lie, running towards his master. He needed to get to Mihou. He needed to hold him.
He looked at Tang Sanzang wiping the blood away of the warrior’s face. His eyes where closed, the monk already used his magic to close the wound on his right eye, a scar that reminded the so-called hero what he had done. The six ears fell still on the side of his beautiful face. He recalled every time he saw his lover’s ears like that: the times he made his moon sad, the times he hurt him.
He feel on his knees before his corpse. So beautiful, even in death. Despite the paleness of his skin, despite his being limp. Despite not reacting at every touch of the monk – who was now cleaning his armour from his blood. His broken armour -.
The crawled next to his Mihou, pushing off his master, before hugging his beloved again, on the verge of tears again.
“Wukong.” Tang called.
But he didn’t answer, hiding his face in Mihou’s collarbone.
Liu Er’s head fell backward, in an unnatural way. Nobody’s head fell like that while they were alive.
Wukong still hoped it was all a joke, that his Liu Er was mad enough to pull a stunt like that. He sobbed while one of his ears leaned on the other’s chest. No heartbeat. No warmth.
No matter how many times he called his husband’s name, there was no answer.
His friends left him to grieve. He stayed all night with him- his corpse, holding him, talking to him, crying over him.
“You said that if I blinded you it was okay, you said you only needed to stay beside me, I’m here, Mihou, please, I can’t have an immortal life without you.” he pleaded, madness eating him alive.
The next morning, his friend started to try to talk to him.
-He needs a proper funeral, Wukong, he’s already going to face torture in the underworld, for every harm he has caused, he won’t ever rest in peace if we don’t bury him.
What did he mean his Mihou was going to face torture?
He already suffered enough!
He would rampage in the underworld, make those gods gave his Mihou back!
But that would mean leaving his body alone.
He pleaded his master to help him retrieve his lover’s soul.
“We can’t do it, Wukong, you know that.” The monk avoided telling him that this was the reason he would always scold him about killing.
Sun Wukong, however, heard the words that his master didn’t pronounce.
His friend did help him to give Mihou a funeral, Ao Lie comforted him like he deserved it, like he wasn’t a monster who destroyed the one he loved the most.
They needed to go; their next mission awaited.
Wukong was left behind, after he asked permission to have some time alone.
The monkey found the house that his moonlight used in that region, finding many, many books, scrolls, documents.
He always struggled with reading, and his Mihou would make fun of him for that, just for reading him the stories he kept collecting, even making shadow plays about those who Wukong liked more.
He started to gather everything his beloved left behind, so that he could store on their mountain.
“Destiny cannot be undone, Sun Wukong.” an old enemy once said to him.
But he and his friend stopped that mad demon.
- The future doesn’t lie. You do. – said Mihou.
He hated destiny.
Hated the future.
Hated fucking Azure Lion.
Blaming anything but himself, Wukong survived.
But he knew that he was to blame for Mihou’s death.
Why didn’t he force his moonlight to eat the peaches of immortality?
Why didn’t he talk to him, before leaving for the journey?
Why didn’t he agree to follow Mihou home?
All that his moon wanted was to know that he was the sun’s first choice. Of course, he would have been okay with Wukong helping Demon Bull King with the flame that his son produced.
Mihou just needed to be reassured. And what did Wukong do? He told him to wait.
Like he didn’t wait five centuries already.
Like he didn’t lose other years of his life sleeping, for the Monkey King’s choices.
Like he didn’t spend other years searching for him.
Sun Wukong hated the sun.
Hated himself.
Sun Wukong hated the moon.
Hated the way he felt without his other half.
Little by little, he would start to hate Mihou, soon enough.
He stopped at Flower Fruit Mountain to leave all of Liu Er things in their room.
Looking at the bed, definitely too large for just a person, Wukong lost it again: he started to cry, he smashed their bed. He contemplated the idea of trying to kill himself.
But his friends needed him.
The same friends he putted before Mihou.
The reason of Mihou’s death.
Death that would be ever more cruel if he just decided to change idea and stay on the mountain to try ways of killing himself.
He flew away from his home again.
It won’t ever feel like home again, not without his Mihou.
XXX
It’s only months later that he returns. Ao Lie is with him. The dragon said he wanted to spend some time relaxing with his friend, on his merry mountain.
He knows his friend is worried about him. He never talked again about Mihou, like nothing happened.
Like his friends didn’t see him while he was broken and desperate over his lover’s dead body.
He wanted to say no to Lie, but he couldn’t. Not after his mistake with the Samadhi Fire.
“You sure got a lot of books for someone who can’t read.” his friend says, after falling on the floor because of tripping in said books.
“They aren’t mine.” he mumbles, his tail rolling and unrolling nervously.
“Want me to read you something?” Ao Lie knows that the only other person who had belongings there was the Six Eared Macaque. He doesn’t bring him up, he waits for the Monkey King to talk about him. (He won’t)
Wukong shuts up for a moment.
Liu Er would always read for him. It felt wrong, letting someone else read stories to him.
But now, he really wants to know what were the last things Mihou read about.
“Sure, why not.” he says, a fake smile on his face.
“These are foreigner legends.” Ao Lie says, scrolling thru one of the books.
The dragon doesn’t stand up, he stays on the ground, beginning to read about Hyacinthus and Apollo.
Wukong really likes the story. He tries not to think about Mihou doing a shadow play about it.
He loves how Hyacinthus fell in love with the sun god. He loves how Apollo treats him. He loves how the story describes Hyacinthus: a beautiful prince, soft but strong, a noble warrior, who is loyal to his sunny lover.
He’s not projecting his relationship with Liu Er. Definitely not.
He doesn’t imagine Mihou as the beautiful prince. Doesn’t compare himself to Apollo. He does not.
He hates the wind gods who try to steal Hyacinthus away from Apollo.
Like, really hates them!
He doesn’t imagine that hideous gods like Azure Lion and the Golden Peng. He. Does. Not.
He’s already imagining the couple’s marriage, of course it’s happening soon enough. When he and Mihou got married it felt so fast.
Ao Lie stops, after reading about Apollo teaching his lover to use something Wukong doesn’t care about so much. He’s picturing he and Mihou Apollo and Hyacinthus laughing in the nature while playing.
“Why did you stop?” he asks.
“Maybe it’s better if we change story.” the dragon says softly.
“Bullshit! I have to know what happens!”
“You’re sure, Wukong?”
“Of course!”
“What if we finish to read it some other time?”
“Nah-ah. I want to know how it ends!”
Wukong seems truly happy for the first time since the accident.
Ao Lie can’t get himself to read the real final.
“They get married, and Hyacinthus lives happily ever after with Apollo.”
“How do you read it if you’re looking at me? Come on, read me the last part”
Again, Ao Lie tries to make something up, this time looking at the book.
“It doesn’t sound like the rest of the story, are you sure you’re reading it? Come on, don’t make fun of me”
The dragon prince sighs.
“It doesn’t end well, Wukong.”
“Why? What happens? Now you’ve got to tell me!”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“I will be upset if I don’t know what happens to them!”
Ao Lie gives up and reads what’s left.
A jealous wind god catches the thing Apollo had thrown. Hyacinthus was running towards it, ready to catch him, so he could show his lover his skills.
But the thing is now too fast. Mihou Hyacinthus is knocked down by it, hit on his head.
Wukong Apollo runs towards him. He tries to stop the bleeding; he to stay with him.
But Mihou Hyacinthus doesn’t respond.
From his lover’s blood, Apollo makes a beautiful flower, called like his beloved. Hyacinth.
Wukong Apollo can only scream his agony. An eternal life awaits him, but Mihou Hyacinthus won’t be there, not anymore.
Monkey King now understands why his friend tried to not read him that ending.
Wukong feels numb, again.
The sunny hero gets up, saying that he is sleepy. He isn’t- but sleeping sometimes helps him with the pain.
When he doesn’t dream, that is.
When he does, he only has nightmares.
He hates nightmares.
He hates Mihou’s stupid book.
He hates that fucking hideous gods demons who got Mihou Hyacinthus dead.
He stops when he sees the bed, still broken. Of course, he left it broken, why did he expect it whole again? Why did he expect Mihou to be there, sleeping safe and sound?
Ao Lie leaves him be. He starts to read some other story, making sure the next he reads at his friend doesn’t end up badly. But they all do. They’re heroes’ story, after all. And what is a hero without pain?
He thanks the gods that he didn’t start reading Achilles and Patroclus’ story.
There are other stories about Apollo, but they are all tragic or they all have the sun god as the bad guy.
When the dragon sees his monkey friend again, neither of them talks about the books.
XXX
As the years pass Wukong isolates himself, every time a bit more than before.
His masters is dead, got reincarnated again.
That hurt.
As it hurt every time one of his friends died.
He is so tired.
He wants to stop.
Why does he have to save the world from whatever problem rises?
He has done enough.
When the times come, he has to face the Demon Bull King.
He really can’t stop fighting his friends or watching them die, can he?
He just seals him under a mountain.
He doesn’t kill him.
He is being generous, given the fact that the bull demon started to talk shit while they were fighting.
He named the brotherhood, he named fucking Azure.
He hates Azure Lion.
He hates the brotherhood.
His ex-friend, swore brother, had the fucking audacity to say something about Macaque.
He kinda stopped holding back on him at that point.
But that idiot is a father and a husband. Wukong is many things, but it’s not a family-wrecker. He wrecked his own family.
When he comes back to Flower Fruit Mountain, he sleeps, like a lot.
He is retiring. He couldn’t give a damn about the world now.
If the world wanted to be saved, it should’ve stopped taking everything from him.
He tells himself that he is better off alone.
He isn’t.
He tells himself that Macaque was selfish, that he had the same amount of blame for what happened as Wukong.
Deep down, he doesn’t believe it.
He tells himself that he deserved better.
He doesn’t believe it.
He tells himself that he hates the moon.
It’s partly true. He hates the moonless life he has before him.
He tells himself that the sun can keep living without a mere satellite.
It doesn’t mean that living like that is living happily. Or even worth living.
He tries to not remember the past.
But in the end, everything reminds him of the past.
He is the sun god who can only mourn the loss of his happiness.
Apollo always knew that he killed his own happiness.
Wukong knew as well.