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“See you around, MK.”
The familiar cooling touch of his shadows enveloped him completely, offering Macaque a moment of respite from the pain of his injuries, before slowly fading away, revealing the inside of his dojo.
Well, “his” is not really the right word. It had been abandoned for a long time before he decided to live here while plotting against Wukong and his successor. He had simply renovated and cleaned it a bit, and now he could almost call it home.
As soon as the last of his shadows completely disappeared, the black-furred monkey’s legs gave out and he collapsed face first on the floor .
Okay, bad idea, he thought with a wince. He should have tried getting to his bed first before giving in to his fatigue. Woops.
His little lapse of judgment did nothing to soothe his numerous injuries. All the falling, the fighting, that one time he got electrocuted, the burns from where the ice had encased half of his body, then those of the Samadhi Fire when it fred him from her control, being flung around like a ragdoll by a possessed Sun Wukong and finally giving a bit of his own lifeforce to assist in defeating the Lady Bone Demon… It was a rough couple of days and Macaque was glad it was finally over.
A small voice in the back of his mind helpfully reminded him that he should try to patch some of his injuries to help accelerate his recovery, but the monkey couldn’t find it in himself to move an inch.
It wasn’t like it actually mattered, whether he tended to his injuries or not. This wouldn’t kill him.
He’d been worried, while he was tasked with distracting the Monkey King, that it would be a repeat of the last time the King went all out on him. And for a moment it almost was.
However, even though he was getting his ass kicked, the injuries were a lot less severe than he had expected them to be. And when he found himself at the mercy of the possessed monkey, when he thought he would end his life on the spot, he… didn’t.
Probably figured it would be a waste of time and energy. That bastard. He would never grant him a swift death, would he?
He started laughing bitterly, before his aching body put an end to the action in the form of a coughing fit.
He could pretend he was fine all he wanted in front of the others, but now in the privacy of his own dojo his body quickly let Macaque know that he was in no condition to do anything right now.
He tried to see if he could manipulate his shadows enough to create a clone which could hopefully draw him a bath or something only to find that his powers were completely unresponsive.
Huh, weird.
Honestly, it was a miracle he even managed to open a portal at all.
An unknown amount of time passed, and the ache in his body was reduced to a duller throb. More manageable. The shadow monkey slowly got up to his feet and made his way to his room on unsteady legs.
He dropped unceremoniously onto his bed. It still wasn’t the best thing to do with his injuries, but this time at least it was on a much softer surface.
A soft glow emanated from the nearby window and Macaque turned his head to see the full moon in all its glory. A sight that would have been comforting some centuries ago, now just a painful reminder.
That night, the moon had looked just like it did now.
°ooOoo°
A full moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the clear skies alongside its many stars. Beneath the lit sky, the imposing trees of the forest gave way to a peaceful clearing. A soft breeze blew, gently shaking the blades of grass and small wildflowers.
The tranquility of the night was abruptly interrupted by a great noise, followed by a crash.
From the newly formed crater, a black-furred monkey slowly emerged, injuries taking a toll on his body but still prepared to fight, dust and dirt settling around him.
Another figure, another monkey, landed a few feet away. His cape billowing in the wind, golden circlet shining in the glow of the night.
The monkey gave his staff a twirl before taking on a warning stance.
“Stay down, Macaque.”
“N-never…” Macaque hissed through gritted teeth.
“I don’t want to fight you, Macaque. Stay. Down.”
“Listen to me then!”
“What is there to listen to? You threatened my master and brothers. You interrupted our journey and-”
“Forget about your stupid journey and your stupid texts! Let’s just go home, Peaches-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why? I’m your friend, they aren’t!”
“Yes, they are!” Wukong responded indignantly.
“No, they’re not! Your ‘friend’ put a torture device on your head! You’re not a disciple, you’re a slave!”
“Shut up!” In an attempt to control his anger, the Stone Monkey slammed his staff into the ground, momentarily silencing his shadow counterpart.
“Tch,” the Shadow Monkey eventually replied. “I guess I’m going to have to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” The injured monkey resumed a fighting stance once more, as he manifested a staff from his shadows.
“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong let out a humorless laugh. “You really think you’re in any position to do that?” The Monkey King took a step forward. “Don’t be stupid Macaque,” he added in a more somber tone.
“We wouldn’t have to fight if you just went home with me!”
“I am not abandoning my companions!”
“And what about-” He stopped, his original sentence dying on his tongue. “What about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? So what, you can’t abandon your so-called brothers but you can abandon them? You’ve been gone for centuries Wukong, don’t you think they miss you? Their king, their protector?”
“I’m not abandoning them! I’ll return home as soon as I’m done with the pilgrimage.” Wukong pointed his staff towards Macaque in an accusatory manner. “If you’re so worried about their safety, you can return and protect them yourself.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”
The Monkey King faltered, softening his grip on his staff without fully realizing it.
“Thank you,” he said softly, visibly relieved, as if feeling a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying being lifted off his shoulders at the news that his people hadn’t been completely defenseless in his absence.
“You can thank me by going home with me!” The shadow monkey replied, half-hopeful, half-exasperated.
“Would you stop with that?” The King yelled. “I’ll go home when I’m done with my mission and that’s final!”
Macaque sneered at the ground in front of him, his free hand balled into a fist.
Why?
Why was this mission so important? Did Wukong really think it mattered what he did from now on? That he could be in the Celestial Realm’s good grace by playing delivery boy with some human monk and a rag-tag team of demons? Did he think if he redeemed himself with this one task, the Gods would forget that he single-handedly caused so much chaos the Buddha himself had to intervene? That he could be one of them ?
Because, that was the thing, wasn’t it?
Wukong had always been a curious soul, easily entertained by every new, shiny thing for a moment before moving on to the next new, shiny thing.
Sun Wukong, the Stone Monkey, the Handsome Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, was no longer satisfied being a demon.
He wanted to be a Celestial. A God.
He really was going to leave him behind, wasn’t he…?
Macaque’s expression changed from anger to a guarded mask of neutrality.
Wordlessly, the Warrior charged at the King, who easily blocked each of his attacks.
Soon, the once peaceful clearing was filled with the sounds of metal against shadow magic and grunts from both monkeys, seemingly equally matched. Neither spoke, the tension much too suffocating for the usual friendly banter that accompanied their sparring sessions.
This was no friendly match, after all.
To Macaque, this was a last ditch effort to communicate with his friend in the one language he knew Wukong understood perfectly: fighting.
He needed to prove his strength, his worth to the stone monkey right now. He needed to prove he was strong, that he was worthy of standing by his side.
He dove into his shadows, re-emerging behind Wukong a moment later with a raised fist aimed at his face. The hit was easily blocked, and the counter-attack slow enough that Macaque dove back into the shadows to try again, hoping to catch the King off-guard.
Look at me. Look at what I can do.
Taking a step back from the King, Macaque laid the palms of his hands flat on the ground as he called for his shadows to manifest into clones of himself. The shadow army launched a collective assault on the stone monkey. A quick twirl of the mighty Rúyì Jīngū Bàng was enough to disintegrate them.
Together, we could be unstoppable. You don’t need them.
Macaque could feel himself getting desperate.
As he grew more and more tired, he fought less like the calculating and cunning demon he was and more like a wounded beast driven by adrenaline and survival instincts alone.
And Wukong was still not fighting back.
Not properly, at least.
The golden monkey’s counter-attacks were slow, so agonizingly slow compared to what he could really do, half-hearted attempts to hit a creature not worth using his mighty strength against.
No… No! Fight me! Fight me for real!
The King’s eyes locked with his own for a moment, and all Macaque could see was pity.
No! I’m strong! I’m not pitiful! Don’t you dare look at me like that!
Don’t leave me behind!
Panic engulfed the shadow monkey. His breathing became laborious, both from effort and his rising fear. His punches grew sloppier, his control on his shadow magic wavered. A singular thought rang in his head, echoing against the corners of his mind. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!
A chorus of hurried voices could be heard calling for the Monkey King.
“Monkey!”
“Brother!”
Instantly, Sun Wukong pivoted to look behind him, looking for the voices of his distressed companions.
And just like that, his friend’s attention had shifted away from him. Like he was non-existent.
No!
The group of pilgrims made their way to the edge of the clearing, but before they could get any closer, the Monkey King stopped them.
“Don’t!” he yelled, hand outstretched to create even more distance between them and the fight.
How dare they get involved!
Desperate to get the golden monkey’s attention back to the fight, Macaque picked a nearby pebble and flung it towards the pilgrims.
The stone pierced the air like an arrow and flew past Wukong’s head. Confused, he quickly whipped his head to face Macaque, before a scream alerted the King of what had just happened and turned his attention back to the group, horrified.
The stone Macaque had hurled with all his remaining strength hit the human monk right in his forehead and he fell off his mount, under the distraught cries of the other demons and horse.
While the pig demon and the water demon tripped over themselves to see if they had any supplies to treat the worrying injury - Macaque honestly couldn’t tell if he had killed him or not - the golden monkey remained perfectly still.
Which was never a good sign.
The shadow monkey didn’t have any more time to think about that, because suddenly the Monkey King was in front of him, a look of pure fury etched into his face.
Macaque felt the impact of the punch before he even saw the other monkey’s fist move towards his face.
He was sent flying back into the forest, hitting and breaking numerous trees in the process, but before he even hit the ground, the Monkey King was in front of him again, hand tightly gripping his throat, cutting his airflow.
All Macaque could do was uselessly claw at the hand, the Monkey King completely unfazed by the pathetic attempt, hot fury replaced by cold indifference.
He raised the black-furred monkey higher, before repeatedly slamming him against the ground, dirt and debris either flying off or digging into his back.
Macaque couldn’t breathe. Could barely even think, the rigging in his ears too loud and distracting. Eyes scrunched up in pain.
The hand finally let go of his throat, and the shadow monkey coughed, desperately trying to get air back into his system again.
Tentatively, Macaque slowly opened one eye.
Before he fully registered the sight in front of him, the mighty Rúyì Jīngū Bàng was brought down hard on his stomach.
Any remaining air in his lungs was forced out of him, and the pain paralysed him completely. Macaque thought something was broken, but was unable to precisely pinpoint what.
The Monkey King raised a clawed hand, and it was at the moment that a peculiar thought crossed his tired mind.
He was going to die here, wasn’t he?
Not only had the King been planning to abandon him during his quest for power, but now he was going to be killed like some kind of parasite at the hands of his dearest friend.
The shadow monkey felt the sensation of claws tearing flesh apart even before he registered the pain and realized that the golden monkey had clawed his eye out.
He probably would have screamed if he had any air in his lungs.
Instead, the shadow monkey remained still, trying and failing to breathe.
He could feel blood from his ruined eye running down his cheek, mixed with tears he could not stop.
He could feel it in his mouth, smell it in the air.
He could feel the sting of small cuts, the pain in his back, broken ribs and possibly even bones, the chill of the night unable to soothe his pain.
Everything hurt and if only he could move he would have curled up into a ball. The slightest of movements felt like pure agony.
Wordlessly, the golden monkey turned his back on him. He started to walk away from the scene, before stopping. He glanced over his shoulder at the furry mass writhing in the dirt.
“Don’t come near any of us ever again.”
For a moment, Macaque thought he saw a hint of sadness on the King’s face before it quickly disappeared. A clear sign the pain and blood loss were causing him to hallucinate.
The Monkey King was soon out of Macaque’s fading sight, most likely back with his precious companions.
Without finishing him off.
Did Wukong think he was being a good boy by not killing him, as his master preached? Did the golden monkey genuinely think he had spared his life? Did he genuinely think he would survive his injuries?
…Did he know this was a fate much more humiliating and cruel than simply killing him…?
Unable to breathe, unable to channel his magic, unable to move. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. With nothing else to do, he watched the full moon. The soft silver glow taunting him, for unlike it, he would never again feel the warmth of his sun.
°ooOoo°
In hindsight, he might have overreacted that day.
Maybe.
He should have known that trying to drag Wukong back to Flower Fruit Mountain would never have worked. He had waited for centuries by that point - not knowing where he was, what had happened, if he would ever come back, only to one day learn about his imprisonnement, trying in vain to locate that stupid mountain, where was the stupid thing?! -, what were a couple of more years to him?
Heck, he could have even accompanied them. Probably would have made the whole thing faster too.
He had just been so wounded when Wukong hadn’t been as ecstatic to see him as Macaque had been.
… No, that was a lie.
He still remembered the way Wukong’s face had lit up when he saw him again after all this time, the same way it did when looking at the fireworks the humans liked to use during their celebrations. The way he had thrown his arms around him in a familiar bone-crushing hug. The happy purrs and chirps.
And then Macaque ruined everything…
To Macaque, the pilgrimage had seemed like an extension of the five hundred year long punishment against the King of Flower Fruit Mountain.
To Wukong, it was a second chance. A chance to be more than the impulsive and chaotic monkey he used to be. A chance to be not just feared, but respected (and respectable!). A chance to see there was more to life than just his own little world and his own interests, to finally see the bigger picture.
It was a chance at redemption.
Macaque hadn't understood at the time.
He too had lived in his own little world, guided only by survival instincts and desire. His world orbited around his sun, and any sort of disturbance of its fragile stability was met with fierce opposition.
It was why he had never cared about Flower Fruit Mountain beyond 'Wukong would be sad if something bad happened', why he couldn't live there without him.
Only three things had ever mattered to him: survival, freedom and Wukong.
Wukong used to have a similar view. But then it had expanded.
The truth was Wukong had never not cared about him, but he simply had more on his plate at any given time.
And Macaque had failed to notice or care.
But now that he was given a second chance at life, free from the Lady Bone Demon’s icy grasp, maybe he could try again.
He thought back to MK’s little speech, how someone had believed in him to do better, to be better, despite how much Macaque had wronged the kid in the past.
He thought back to this little girl, the one the Lady Bone Demon had used as a vessel and a shield, and how he had rushed to cushion her fall without hesitation because he knew what it was like to be tormented by her and not even he wished for the kid to be in any more pain than she already was.
Maybe, he thought as he walked down the streets near his dojo, there was still hope for him.
As he continued his walk, he took in the world around him.
Birds chirping; dogs barking; humans living their typical, noisy lives; the sun warming his fur; the wind gently messing with it.
It felt… nice, all things considered to know he had helped preserve all this, however small his contribution might have been.
It wasn't as if he had ever wanted to destroy the world after all, he had standards. But he never expected that he would ever put his life on the line for it.
He noticed a lone bag of takeout food on the ground. There was no one else around to claim ownership of the thing. He picked it up, and unfolded the piece of paper taped to it.
He was greeted by a simple drawing, in an artstyle he had seen once before.
He was surprised to see a cartoonish version of himself, smiling a goofy smile - he would never smile like that, c’mon MK - alongside the equally goofy expressions of the kid and his dragon friend, and a blasé Sun Wukong. A smiley face had been drawn next to the sloppiest handwriting his remaining eye had ever seen (he legitimately couldn’t read it).
The small unexpected gesture managed to get a genuine smile out of Macaque.
He looked up at the sun, feeling happier than he had in a while.
Maybe he could give this whole redemption shtick a try.