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A loud thunderclap lit the night sky as a violent storm had started on the mountain. As if the sky were mourning over the Shadow Monkey’s death, crying its tears and screaming for all the earth to see.
In the cave, inside the monkey’s old home, a tall figure stood in the middle of Macaque’s small room. They had an angry frown, staring at the ground while their hands slightly shook in a fist.
“You idiot…” they muttered, taking their eyes from the ground to look around the room.
Everything looked the same; the wood miniatures he used to make were in the same place, the drawings Peng teased him for were there, but it didn’t feel the same– It would never do.
“I knew this would happen. I told you this would happen. “And yet, I let you go.”
They huffed. “But you didn’t listen, of course you didn’t…you never do,” they dragged a hand through their hair and sighed. “Three ears each side on your stupid head and you still haven’t learned to hear reason, have you?”
Peng stepped closer to the bed, looking at the familiar red fabric that was almost falling to the floor. They frowned, wondering if the reason the red was so vibrant was because it belonged to Macaque’s blood– Peng couldn’t find courage enough to clean it, not when his sweet scent would be washed away.
“How did it feel?” Peng tilted their head as they looked at Macaque’s old scarf.
“How did it feel to be killed by your dearest friend huh?”
The rain was muffled, the loudest sound being Peng’s breath becoming heavier. Their heart beating faster against their chest.
“I bet you didn’t care as long as it was by Wukong’s hand. Have you lost on purpose? Did you wish for this–” They laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised you lost, you’ve always been the weakest among us…” they paused. “And yet, here I am. Crying over the very memory of you.”
Their legs trembled as they kneeled, letting their upper body lay on the bed as they hugged the scarf close to their face. It smelled like blood, Macaque’s blood. But his scent was there too, the fresh aroma of wet grass after rain fading away.
The demon couldn’t help but press it closer to their face, smelling it like the sweetest perfume they ever felt– like it was the last time they’d feel something as angelic as his essence.
Tears slid down their cheeks, falling to the piece of clothing in their arms. Their gasps and sniffs were muffled by their own hand, as if they didn’t want anyone else to hear it.
“I can’t believe I chose a coward like you.” They whispered.
The room felt colder than before, the sound of a loud thunder echoed through the mountain. But the demon didn’t move, they stayed in the same position, not caring for the world around them.
Macaque had gone after Sun Wukong like a stray dog, and that led him to his end– Peng went back for him, hoping that the rumors were just rumors. After all, Macaque always got away…how naive of them to think that. When they arrived, the only thing left on the ground was the shadow monkey’s scarf soaked in a puddle of blood.
At first, they thought that he had escaped, that he was hiding in the shadows until he regained enough strength. They hated to admit it, but their desperation grew as the monkey hadn’t return, and the fact the rest of the brotherhood believed the shadow was gone for good did not ease their fears.
So Peng did the only thing they could– speak to the killer himself.
How pitiful…the way the King apologized and cried like he actually cared about Macaque. Peng remembered it clearly, the way Wukong kept sobbing and mumbling apologizes to them, how he scratched his arms without even noticing the blood that was dripping from them– as for Peng, all they did was stare at the monkey, not knowing if the rage they felt was for Wukong or Macaque.
Yes, the King killed him. And they hated him for that. But why did Macaque let it happen?
Why?
All they did was fly away, there was no fight, not a single drop of blood on their hands. Peng didn’t find the strength in them to do anything at that moment– even when all they wanted was the King’s head on a plate.
They brushed their thumbs along the red fabric, careful not to rip it with their claws. “What am I supposed to do now that you’re gone?” Said the demon in a softer tone.
As they were about to get up, the sound of footsteps could be heard from behind them, the wood beneath it cracking along. Peng didn’t move, eyes widening a little when they saw the figure of a blurred monkey in the window's reflex.
“I’ve never seen you cry before.”
Peng swallowed, feeling more tears running along their cheeks.
“You should do it more, makes you look more…human.” the voice chuckled.
The eagle demon hissed, They didn’t bother to turn around, deciding to stare at the scarf instead– too afraid of what their own mind would do.
“That used to be mine, y'know?” the figure smirked. “Are you seriously crying over me? That’s cute.”
“Go away” they hissed.
“awww…and I thought you wanted me back.”
“You’re not him. And you’re not here.” They ran a hand through their hair, frowning when they looked at the blurred reflex standing behind them again. “You aren’t real.”
There was a minute of silence before the figure spoke again. “It feels real to me, I’m looking at you right now while you hug my scarf as if someone is going to steal it– I gotta admit, I like it. I like how pretty you look when you cry over me.” He approached Peng until he couldn’t walk anymore, staring at the demon from above. “Does it feel good? To put everything out of your system?”
No response.
His tone became serious. “Look at me.”
“Look at me Peng.” He demanded, wanting a reaction out of them.
“N-no, I don’t wanna.” their voice broke, a small sob escaping them when they did.
“Are you afraid of not recognizing my face anymore?” He laughed, raising his hand to hide his smile. “Thousands of years could go by and you’d still remember every little detail of me, my body, my voice, all my imperfections would be carved on your brain like an ugly scar. You’re caged between my fingers like a trapped bird.”
The figure leaned back, now looking at his own reflex on the window Peng was staring at all the time.
“You deny it, but your heart always belonged to me.”
“You belong to me, Peng.”
They gasped, raising their head from the scarf and turning to look around the room.
They frowned. “Macaque?”
There was no one there as usual. It wasn’t the first time their mind tried to trick them since his death– should they tell Azure it was getting worse? He’d probably think they were going mad. And frankly, they felt like it.
Peng finally got up, taking the piece of clothing along with them as they walked to the door. They looked back one last time, already planning on coming back and taking Macaque’s old things to their own home– but that could wait for now.
They can wait.