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Simba used to dream of becoming King. He longed to follow his wise father's pawsteps, to someday become one of the "great kings" among the stars, and to keep the peace in the Circle of Life. He spent many of his days as a cub preparing for his future reign, such as practicing his hunting skills, roaring at small lizards, and daydreaming up new rules he'd establish (most of which were solely to stick it to Zazu's traditionalist attitude).
That was before he witnessed Mufasa's murder. Before he fled from home, terrified, confused, and half-convinced that he's the reason that his father, the kingdom's kind and wise ruler, was now dead.
The flight from his former kingdom was mostly a blur. Simba only kept running and running, too panicked and miserable to think about anything other than getting as far away as possible from the horrible image branded in his memory. Mufasa, his kind, understanding, cool father, lying silently in the dust, under a shattered dead tree, never to move or smile or play again....
"If it weren't for you, he'd still be alive."
Tears blinded Simba's vision as he kept running and running, hardly registering that he had long left the Pridelands behind and was now crossing a scorching hot desert. Eventually, his terror and sorrow turned to exhaustion, and though his sore paws managed to drag him further and further along, he soon collapsed in the heat. Before darkness overtook him, he thought he saw his father's face, looking down at him in disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident." Then, he passed out.
The next thing he knew was water splashing him in the face. Simba opened his eyes blearily to face a meerkat and warthog, gazing at him in concern. He thought nothing of the matter, till a while later, when he realized that the wisecracking duo saved his life. He didn't deserve it, but he also was grateful for having friends who knew nothing about him or his past. Death was an escape, to be sure, but so was his friendship and life spent with Timon and Pumbaa. Simba embraced it, ready to forget his terrible memories.
Time passed and his old dreams of becoming King were all but mere shadows. He became lazy, wanton, and listless. Days turned to weeks, and in time turned to years, but it was all one content blurred image of peace and "hakuna matata." The closest he came to reliving the nightmares of his past was one night, stargazing with his friends, when they asked him about his opinion on what stars were made of.
"Look at the stars. The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars."
"Really?"
"Yes. So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I..."
The bittersweet memory came to a screeching halt when Timon and Pumbaa burst out laughing over the idea of "royal dead guys" watching them. They didn't know the origin of the story, let alone the last soothing words that his father had said regarding the stars, so Simba couldn't blame them for being crass. But Mufasa's promise of watching out for him left a sour taste in his mouth. Especially because it was all his fault that he was gone...
"You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.... Remember who you are..."
No King was as wise as Mufasa. The Pridelands didn't deserve any King who wasn't to his standard. The idea of Simba, the foolish young cub responsible for the death of such a beloved King, to try to take back the throne from his usurper Uncle Scar was just.... cruel. Simba was no King. He was a coward and an indirect murderer.
And yet, thanks to the urging from Nala, his father's spirit, and Rafiki, he found himself taking that long journey back. Running and running, like he did when he was young and terrified. He was still scared, only this time not at what was behind him but what was ahead...
The look on his mother's face when he admitted to his guilt was more punishment than all those years of running away. But it wasn't until he was hanging off the edge of a cliff, his uncle laughing cruelly and sarcastically mocking Simba's terrible memory, when it all fell into place....
"Now here's MY little secret: I killed Mufasa..."
Every doubt, every fear that haunted him since that horrible day, suddenly vanished without a trace. And was instantly replaced with unadulterated rage. And a resolve: to do away with this evil leader who dared to destroy all that Mufasa, the Pridelands, and the Circle of Life stood for.
The battle that ensued was in perfect clarity; for the first time since his father died, Simba felt completely focused and determined. He fought off hyena after hyena, until he saw his cowardly uncle slink off in the distance, and promptly chased after him.
The battle between uncle and nephew was a two-way fight: to conquer the throne and for Simba to finally face the nameless demon that haunted him for years.
But the ultimate moment to face his destiny was after Scar was defeated and rain fell onto the earth once more, and Simba began the ancestral ascent up Pride Rock to take his place in the Circle of Life. His muscles strained against the steep incline, but he pushed onward, feeling his father's spirit with him. As he reached the top and looked at the sky, where a gap in the clouds revealed the stars, the great kings, he heard his father once more:
"Remember..."
And in that moment, Simba no longer bore the selfish fears and desires of his past. He was King. And his reign would ensure balance in the Circle of Life. He roared triumphantly in the night air, ready to start over.
Ready to make his father proud.