Chapter Text
The first thing Macaque felt was sunlight, warm and gentle against his fur.
—bloodied fist hurling towards him, too fast to dodge, to move away—crushing his windpipe—Desperately clawing at the iron grip—run, to flee, to escape without losing his life—a second time—
Was that grass under him? Wasn’t everything frozen? But there was the chirping of songbirds, and the gentle trickle of water nearby. The scent of fresh rain cradled him.
“—aque Macaque no! Monkey King stop—!“
Macaque ran his hand over his stomach, then his arm, his chest. Almost entirely fluffy fur and smooth, like nothing ever happened. He cautiously opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight that blinded him. Groaning and rolling onto his side.
“—no no no Monkey King! Monkey king stop! Stop hurting him please—!“
Macaque slowly opened his eyes once more and found himself in a scenic field. Wild flowers swaying in the lazy breeze and a small creek nearby. He sat up, looking around and finding no trace of the Lady Bone Demon. He couldn’t even hear the sound of MK screaming…
Wait, screaming?
“—caque! Macaque, please get up! Get up! Monkey King stop!” MK shouted as Macaque’s vision grew blurred. He coughed, wet and metallic as Wukong pulled his bloodied fist away from the other demon’s broken form.
There was a faint dripping noise as he did so and Macaque vaguely heard MK gag.
His eye was blurring fast, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder and drowning out everything around him. It hurt. This hurt so much worse. At least the first time he’d died nearly instantly, this was plain torture. Macaque gasped as the pressure on his throat tightened and he wished so desperately that she’d order Wukong to just finish him off so that the pain would stop—
A laugh, chilling and cruel, echoed through the cavern.
How Macaque hated the Lady Bone Demon with every fiber of his being.
“You cannot escape destiny my champion, such a futile course of action can only lead to one thing. You know it intimately well,” Macaque let out a faint exhale as his windpipe was crushed. Hoping in the back of his mind the kid hadn’t seen what’d just happened. MK didn’t deserve that.
“Pain.”
For a moment he was weightless— until his body hit the ground, ripping a scream from his lungs.
Then, all at once, everything screamed. His splintered bones, his bruised flesh, his torn fur, Macaque himself. Everything hurt. Everything ached. Everything screamed. Maybe he was begging, sobbing, wailing for her to stop whatever it was she was doing.
Maybe Macaque was just pleading to stop. For everything to cease. To end.
It did, but not nearly to the degree he wished for. A yellow blur slammed into the golden one that stood above him. Shouting. The sounds of what was probably a fight. MK(?) presumably having started attacking Wukong.
Macaque gasped and couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed at the sob that was torn from his lips. How pathetic. Whatever the Lady Bone Demon had done to him… He wished MK hadn’t seen whatever had happened. Macaque was actually pretty fond of the little hero. Something he’d never say aloud but the kid reminded him of…simpler times. Someone like MK should’ve never been forced to see such a pathetic sight.
Wukong was a blur of golden and orange fur. The yellow blur- presumably MK -had stopped striking him. Both of them leapt back as a shard of ice slammed towards them, the faint chilly breeze confirming what the white blur was. It wasn’t nearly as cold as he remembered it being though.
The fight continued. The ground trembling under his agony filled body. The shrill sound of Red Son’s voice. The pulsing heat of the Samadi fire roaring in the sky. Macaque let out a breath and found it didn’t hurt as much as it did earlier. Why didn’t it hurt that much anymore?
Oh.
He wasn’t going to make it.
Something in him had accepted that fact shockingly fast. Alone and cold as he could only watch blurry colors dance across his swiftly fading vision. Voices, distant and close. Another scream maybe?
Having almost all the time in the world alone in his head he could only go over what had led him here and how things could’ve been…changed. The Lady Bone Demon, the lamp, MK…
Macaque never got to properly speak with Mowang or Gongzhu again. Or their child Red Son. He wondered if Mei would be as pleasant of company as MK if he hadn’t ruined any chances of a tentative friendship through his selfish actions. Pigsy would still hate him but Tang and Sandy had been. Nice. In a way. Odd yes but nice all the same.
Maybe, if things were different. Macaque could’ve had a proper second chance.
He wasn’t cold anymore which was nice. The first time he’d died it’d been painfully cold. Macaque felt his lungs struggle to inhale, his heart desperately trying to pump blood through him. Not like that’d work. He was bleeding out of every part of himself.
It hurt. The broken bones, the bruises, the punctures, his skull that was most definitely fractured, the strange prickle of needles that the Lady Bone Demon had caused, every part of him hurt. Like he’d been bashed against two stones. In a way he had been.
Macaque wanted it to stop hurting so badly.
Why was it always him?
His head began to grow fuzzy. The ground was still, no more heavy thuds of a fight he’d long since been excused of. He had no idea if they’d won or not. Considering he didn’t hear anymore of that infernal laughing, he allowed himself to believe that MK and the others had beaten her. Because if they didn’t…
His body jittered as something landed heavily nearby and then Macaque was even more warm. It cradled him. His mind felt mushy and slow. Someone was talking right? Macaque…he couldn’t tell. Like every part of him was stuffed with cotton.
It was nice not being able to hear and know everything for once.
“…Liu’er…don’t go…fix this…I’ll…u’er plea…“
“…onkey King…dying…have to…help he’s…“
“…caque? What happe…“
“…uch blood…can’t do anything abou…“
“…ading!? How is h…”
“…orry please! I’m sorr…don’t…eyes…Liu’er ple…o no no no no no no—!”
Macaque grabbed at his head and scowled, it hurt. Everything about it hurt. But he got the general gist of what had happened. Lady Bone Demon, possessed Wukong, and then being beaten within an inch of his life.
Or well, past that inch. Considering he’d died.
Macaque sat up and brushed the grass off of himself easily. Frowning at the scenic look of the area around him. This was far different from the Diyu he remembered the first time he’d died.
He checked his special glamours were still on before standing up on wobbly legs. He frowned at himself however. His clothes were tattered and stained, beyond saving. Soaked in so much blood it’s a wonder he was still alive. And Macaque knew he was alive because he’s experienced death before, and this wasn’t it.
Something told him he’d find out soon enough.
———
Macaque was right, he found out where he was almost immediately.
Not anywhere that made sense, Diyu, a new life if he’d been reincarnated somehow— no, he was in Ancient China.
Specifically during Wukong’s pilgrimage.
Macaque could almost hear every deity in the universe laughing at his misery. He snagged a few pieces of fruit from an oblivious vendor before appearing back onto a nearby tree to watch as a very odd group passed just underneath him. He drew in his shadows to cloak himself from notice.
“Hey!” the pilgrim Macaque dubbed Pigsy called out, hurrying after the rest of the group. He glanced over and made a note of each member; the monk sat upon a white horse, the incredibly tall blue skinned demon, and the last member who had stopped by the human to turn and a grin at the pig demon smugly.
“What, can’t keep up Bajie?” Sun Wukong taunted in all his arrogant glory. Macaque turned away as Pigsy, or well Bajie, answered. Not that he cared to listen, he was much too busy focusing on the fact he was stuck in Ancient China.
With a Wukong who was much younger, much more impulsive, and had a hundred times less control over his feelings.
Particularly his anger.
Macaque carefully traced around where the scar of his blinded eye should be, feeling the smooth skin of his glamour. If he were to take it off he knew he’d feel jagged edges, torn and slightly red at the unnatural way they were healed. A small spot on the back of his head should reflect it, covered by surrounding black fur but still there. A near constant reminder of his time spent in Diyu.
He’d died before any of his injuries could be properly healed so the Diyu and his subsequent resurrection had a lot of liberties when it came to scarring.
“—on’t worry Master, I already checked. Our path is clear for the next few hours!” he glanced over once more and found Wukong happily chatting with the group. The monk was smiling at him and Macaque felt the ugly, bitter notes of hate trail up his gut.
Why did Wukong choose him over Macaque? Over his friend of centuries, over their history, his loyalty, his…devotion.
Macaque shook his head, no- he couldn’t afford to grow angry. Grow bitter. Resentful. He knew exactly how that ended up last time. Wukong twirled an ornate staff, playfully swiping at Bajie and huge Sandy as he did so.
Hah, yeah. He was over following Wukong, sticking his neck out for the illustrious Monkey King that couldn’t care less about him.
Twice now he’s fallen by Wukong’s hand. He should’ve never let that naive kid rope him into a plan that led to Macaque’s body broken across the ground. Even though he knew deep in his scarred and withered bones MK was likely the only one grieving him.
He couldn’t have known that Wukong never held back when it came to Macaque. Never considered that he hadn’t built immortalities over top immortalities and could be bested just as any other could be with enough power. No, he couldn’t have known how little Macaque’s life meant to Wukong.
He hoped the kid didn’t blame himself for their mess.
“—est be leaving now, I thank you all for your gracious hospitality,” Tripitaka spoke, the pilgrims shuffling to leave. Macaque watched them from the security of his tree, frowning at the sight of the golden fillet on Wukong’s head.
Don’t get angry, Macaque reminded him, remember, he chose that monk over you. He chose to be tortured instead of coming back home where he belonged. Returning back with you. The anger didn’t last for long, after all this time he’s simply…tired. Bitterness and resentment still ached inside of him but it wasn’t the burning fury he once had.
He watched as the forms of the pilgrims grew smaller and smaller, his eye specifically focused on the figure of the Monkey King. Bickering with Bajie on his cloud, tail swishing cheerfully.
Macaque should leave, should turn his back right now and never return. Never set his eye upon that glorious sun or attempt to reach and hold it like he once longed to. He should find some nice, isolated mountain to lounge around at. Without worry of trivial things like brotherhoods and silly kids with too big hearts and monkeys with strands of gold woven into his fur who spoke only broken promises and sweet lies.
He should leave.
Macaque leaned back into a shadow portal—
He should run away while he still has the chance.
—stepping out onto a nearby tree, the leaves rustling as he settled on it.
Nothing but a pain-filled death would follow should he chase after the king.
Macaque watched as the pilgrims continued on the path, following in time with them via shadow portals and gliding from tree to tree. He wouldn’t directly follow Wukong again, and wouldn't make the same mistake a third time. But he didn’t exactly have anywhere to go, facing the monkeys back on Flower Fruit Mountain would be like seeing ghosts (hah!) and really if anyone could lead him to clues on how he was here, it’d be Wukong.
So he wasn’t following Wukong, he was making a strategic decision to…accompany him. Unknowingly. Because he had to figure out how he’d been transported back in time and how to return.
Macaque ignored how flimsy the reasoning sounded as he leapt from branch to branch, silently trailing after the group.
———
Wukong was a lot more…violent, around the pilgrims.
Macaque hadn’t ever seen him so ready to take lives until now, antagonizing every demon, human, and spirit he came across with a deranged glee he’d never seen before.
Yes, Wukong had done foolishly arrogant things before. It was kind of his whole deal- but to this sheer amount?
It unnerved him.
Macaque turned away as Wukong beat a demon bloody into the ground, growling and snarling like a feral beast. The demon’s crime being a subtle slight against Wukong, barely an insult in reality.
That didn’t stop him though.
The demon begged, Wukong only stopped when Wujing- as Macaque soon found out his name was -pulled him away. Macaque shuddered at the bloodied pile left, Tripitaka seeming just as disturbed. What a way to go, Macaque thought with a humorless giggle.
It felt so different from his Wukong. His Wukong who was silly, arrogant, reckless, impulsive, stubborn- but cruel?
No, he was never cruel. Not truly.
He’d arrogantly challenge the Jade Emperor. Fight bloodied battles in this arrogance and lose. Crush demons twice his size to prove a point. But Wukong was not a cruel being. Violent at times but never cruel. Not unless it was Macaque who stood in his way.
“Calm yourself Eldest Brother, it is fine. He’s not a threat anymore. You can stop,” Wujing soothes. Macaque turns away from the visceral image of burning blood red eyes. His Wukong always hid them behind a golden glamour.
Was this the real Monkey King? Not some moronic stubborn headed ape but a bloodthirsty beast with a bad temperament? Had Macaque never noticed or had Wukong never actually revealed this side of himself? The side that’d unapologetically slaughter hundreds if he were in a bad mood, that’d tear apart demons limb from limb if he so wished. A side in which he’d…
…murder his best friend in cold blood just because he was angry.
Macaque stares into the distance a good length away from the group who settled by a small stream. Tonight there wasn’t much banter, not even Bajie in the mood to annoy Wukong who was clearly still seething.
That was enough watching for a day, he was going to take a nap.
Maybe when he wakes up, it’ll be to a familiar Wukong.
Not this stranger he was trailing behind.
———
After observing the group for a few days Macaque’s come to realize just how needy the monk was.
Throughout the pilgrimage Wukong had been sent off to go gather or scavenge food, or bring him water, or any other number of things. Tripitaka was hopeless when it came to foraging on his own, only yielding better results when begging.
“Wait here okay? I’m going to go look for food, I’ll be right back,” Wukong told the other pilgrims who all nodded. Macaque heavily doubted Bajie would stay still for that long though and if the harsh glare Wukong sent the pig demon’s way meant anything- it was that he heavily doubted his ability to remain still as well.
Wukong flew off on his cloud as Macaque lounged back on a tree nearby. He didn’t exactly have to worry about food, able to subsist on his own foraged scraps and whatever he could nab from any town nearby as unlike Tripitaka- Macaque had no qualms with stealing from others. Demon or not.
Even then, Macaque was familiar with how hunger felt. He could go without anything to eat for quite a bit longer than most demons he knew.
Perks of having been dead he supposed.
”How long do you think he’ll take this time? Four years? Ten? Enough for all of us to starve and become some lucky demon’s pickings?” Bajie began as Tripitaka sighed in exasperation. Macaque chuckled to himself, it seems even monks had their limits, and the celestial swine was quite talented at reaching said limit and sliding right across the edge.
Wujing smiled politely as Ao Ling snorted and laid his head down, facing away from Bajie.
Macaque listened to the sounds of banter and bickering for a while. Bajie soon stood up and announced Wukong was going to let them all starve to death at this rate and proceeded to go off and forage on his own, digging up roots and vegetables to eat. He was surprisingly adept at it, as he was with cooking. Macaque may find the demon utterly insufferable at times but it’s no wonder Pigsy’s noodles were so good if this was how his ancestor had managed way back when.
The soft thrum of voices and faint crackle of fire was peaceful. Macaque relaxed further against his branch and had almost fallen asleep when his ears twitched. There was the softest scuttle of feet, a faint put-put-put that would be nigh impossible to pick up normally.
Macaque immediately sat up at the sounds of a foreign heartbeat, not one fitting any of the pilgrims’.
Tripitaka’s was gentle, like a murmured sutra or the hum of a cicada. Oh yes it could hammer like a hundred frightened rabbits when he was scared but mostly it was pleasant. Wujing’s was subtle, like a flowing river that occasionally crashed against a cliff side. Bajie’s was loud and boisterous but steady in its rhythm. Ao Lie’s was a treading patter. And Wukong…wasn’t currently present so he didn’t need to think about it.
Point was- this new heartbeat belonged to none of them.
Which meant it was likely someone none of them knew.
And knowing how this journey tended to go…
Macaque sighed as he leaned back into a shadow portal and flipped back onto his feet, right behind a startled bug demon. Eugh ew.
“What- Great Sage!” the incredibly creepy demon clicked(?) out, now trembling faintly. He shuddered and pushed away the familiar bitterness that came with being mistaken for Wukong.
But he was nothing if not resourceful; and tricky. This little…misunderstanding could be used to his advantage.
“That’s the one,” Macaque said, channeling every bit of arrogant bluster he could, “couldn’t help but notice there were the sounds of a little insect nearby. Say, you aren’t here to try and take a bite out of a certain immortality granting monk are you?”
The bug thing squeaked fearfully, bulging eyes staring right into him.
Yeah no Macaque had had enough of staring at this thing and promptly summoned a pool of shadows underneath it. Watching it shriek and click its mandible things frantically trying to escape as it was pulled further into the murky depths.
“—ounds coming from over here. Hey demon, I know you’re there! Show yourself!” Macaque rolled his eyes and tipped back into a portal just as Bajie stumbled through the thick bushes with his rake held high. He went bug eyed (heh) at the sight of the insect demon half melting into the shadows. Its shrill cry of distress was swallowed up a second later as the inky portal disappeared.
“Elder Brother, did you find the demon, is it safe now?” Wujing emerged from the trees and glanced around the empty clearing.
Macaque watched from the shadows for a while before growing bored and appearing back at the camp. Tripitaka was nervously curled against Ao Lie who looked remarkably calm despite the sounds of Bajie’s irritated snorts.
Bajie and Wujing returned quickly and Tripitaka fussed in a way that was so reminiscent of his future incarnation it made something in Macaque ache. He fretted over the two, asking of injuries, of the source of the sound, of what had happened. Bajie mumbled something about demons not knowing how to properly use their powers and left it at that.
Wukong appeared back soon after, frowning at the tension in the air as he dumped the food he found onto Bajie before demanding to know what happened. Once given an explanation he zipped off to go check if the demon was still nearby.
Definitely wasn’t considering Macaque dropped it off at the nearest ocean but oh well.
Wukong returned a few minutes later, scratching his head in confusion.
“Nothing. You sure there was a demon?” Bajie bristled at the skeptical tone Wukong had.
“Of course I’m sure! Saw it with my own two eyes!”
“Well I couldn’t find anything so maybe you’re just delusional.”
“Oh that’s it you overgrown hairball—“ Tripitaka sighed loudly which cut off the two pilgrims’ ensuing argument. Wukong and Bajie glared at each other but sheepishly looked away when Tripitaka narrowed his eyes at them further.
“I expect more mature behavior from both of you over something so trivial,” Wukong grumbled something about suspected demons and his safety being the farthest thing from trivial which only earned him another disappointed sigh. Macaque snickered at how fluffed up he looked. It was…cute.
Aaaand ending that train of thought right there. Nope. Not happening.
“But Master!” both Wukong and Bajie whine as Tripitaka shakes his head firmly. Wujing was whispering teasing remarks about the two of them to Ao Lie that had the horse dragon whinnying with mirth. Macaque couldn’t quite hold in his own breathless chuckling either.
“No. There is no threat so what’s going to happen now is that we will all finish eating and then rest for the night. If anything happens Pilgrim Sun will hear it,” the two demons glared at each other for a long moment before nodding sulkily. Tripitaka smiled at them warmly.
“Good. Now grab yourselves a portion.”
———
Another odd thing, Wukong cried so much.
He’d start sniffling when he got excessively happy, or angry, and sad— but these occurrences were so often. He cried when Tripitaka was almost taken by a demon that managed to weasel into camp. He cried when he got frustrated, yelling and shouting about it.
Wukong cried. He cried so much more than he ever did with Macaque. Any time he even began to show signs of crying he either ran off or hid it under sunny smiles and humor. Not that Macaque ever bought it but, well…
He’d never seen Wukong express himself so freely.
The bitterness returned. The anger, frustration, resentment, betrayal that threatened to drown out every sensible thought in his head. Why them. Why did they get the real Wukong? The Wukong who was apparently a bloodthirsty maniac who cried at the drop of a hat. Who freely showed his emotions and didn’t leave.
Macaque shook himself, turning away as the group stopped by a small brook.
He should…go for a walk. Clear his head.
Forget about idiot kings who lied.
———
Macaque was really starting to pity this poor monk.
He may not like him but the sheer amount of demons, people, and beings that make his life so much harder than it needs to be is astonishing. Wukong’s had to save him several times in the past week. Not even demon courtnappings got this absurdly frequent!
At some point even he got sick of it, enough to actually do something about it at least.
“S- sorry Great Sage!” the incredibly annoying demon that tried to kidnap Tripitaka this night stammered. Macaque rolled his eyes and snapped, watching as the shadows swallowed them up before they could utter another word. Pathetic.
Really, did every demon have literally nothing else better to do than try and eat some pitiful monk? Sure he granted immortality or whatever but there comes a limit…
“—ound is coming from over here!” Macaque leapt into the shadows just as Bajie and Wukong burst through the foliage. They both searched around frantically as Wujing appeared after them, followed by Ao Lie and a concerned Tripitaka. Wukong was snarling as he ground his fist into the nearest tree which caused it to splinter and crack.
“I swear the demon was right here! I heard it say my title and everything! They just keep disappearing!” Wukong’s fur was puffed up, frazzled and tangled in a way that indicated a distinct lack of regular grooming. Macaque ignored the urge to run his fingers through those matted knots and tug them straight. What a lousy master, he couldn’t help but think, can’t even properly care for his disciple’s fur.
Of course, there was no way for the human monk to know about proper primordial monkey care, but Macaque was hardly one for letting go of grudges.
“How long has it been since the last time something like this happened?” Wujing asked as Wukong angrily stomped about, tail lashing.
“Only a few days ago, five at most?” Tripitaka answered as he gently brushed away a branch from his path. Looking around halfheartedly, he didn’t even seem tense. Macaque frowned, he wasn’t dealing with that many demons was he?
“I haven’t had to actually fight a demon in weeks!” Wukong complained as he kicked at the ground. Macaque winced.
Whoops, nevermind. Seems he’s been overdoing it a bit.
"It's not like it’s hurting us right? Whatever is dealing with these demons before us hasn’t gone after Master even though it obviously has the ability to. I say we just say thanks and continue on,” Bajie shrugs as Wukong bristles.
“Oh and should we say that when it kidnaps Master when none of us are looking?”
“If it wanted to kidnap Master it would’ve done so ages ago!”
“Maybe it’s a trap!”
“Pilgrim Sun! Bajie! Behave yourselves, arguing will solve nothing,” Tripitaka interjected as both glared at each other.
“We have no idea what this being would want in return from us, but so far I have been unharmed. It’s helping us from what I hope is the goodness of its own heart, is that not something we should all be grateful for?” Macaque felt himself bristle at the insinuation of helping due to some perceived ‘goodness’ in him.
Macaque’s been both alive and dead long enough to know that that was soundly untrue.
“Master, you don’t truly believe some weird and mysterious being that’s been following us for weeks is doing it out of the kindness of its heart, right?” even without knowing he was the one behind all this Wukong still managed to read him like a book.
“How else am I meant to take this? The way I see it, we have a benevolent assistant whom I am deeply grateful for,” he cringes as Wukong growls.
“It could be a ploy! By- by some scummy demon just waiting for all of us to let our guards down to kidnap and eat you! I’ve started seeing these weird patches of demonic magic near us too so it fits the timeframe!” Tripitaka only cocked his head to the side and huffed, once.
How did the monk manage to resemble a fed up parent so well?
“Well pilgrim, even if it was a demon, my response would be ‘thank you for choosing to aid me in my journey’ and that they would be welcome to join our pilgrimage as they have proven more than enough that they are both capable and worthy,” silence reigned and Macaque gaped.
Him. Macaque. The Six-Eared Macaque, joining the scripture pilgrim in his journey west?
What the actual fuck.
“Isn’t that a bit much Master? You can’t actually be serious—“ Bajie rightfully began but was cut off by the look Tripitaka leveled at him. The rest of the pilgrims also shrunk back just from the sight of it.
“I’m quite serious about this.”
“Master,” Wujing spoke gently, “we don't know what this being is. Would it not be wise to exercise more caution?”
Macaque nodded despite there being no one to see his agreement, perched on a tree and hidden behind thick leaves and branches. Surely if Wukong and Bajie failed to convince the delusional monk than at the very least Wujing could. He was incredibly convincing whenever he deigned to speak.
“Like I said, I am fine. This enigma has done nothing but prevent delays in our journey or harm to my being. Am I now barred from showing my thanks on top of being treated like a fragile porcelain cup?” ah, Macaque winced in time with the rest of Tripitaka’s disciples. Low blow monk. Would’ve never guessed part of Tang’s bite came from this guy.
“But Master—“ Wukong still tried but was cut off by Tripitaka lifting his hand up firmly.
“Pilgrim. This being- whatever they may be -has done nothing to us, we shall not attack them based on a crime they’ve yet to commit. Now, unless any of you have any actual complaints, I wish to settle down for the night,” silence once again ruled as master and disciples stared each other down.
Bajie folded first. Wujing second, though not without giving Tripitaka a look mashed between exasperated and contemplating. Wukong never truly folded, sitting down stiffly, arms and legs crossed, and glaring up at Tripitaka defiantly. Tripitaka sighed but made no real request for him to sleep, crawling into his bedroll at the center of their encampment.
Macaque watched for a while before leaning back against the tree trunk, tail lazily flicking. Despite his best efforts his mind kept being drawn back to what Tripitaka had said, his absurd offer.
What a stupid, naive man, Macaque thought with a sigh. He should try to get some sleep.
He barely slept, Tripitaka’s offer looped in his head.
———
Despite how long Macaque’s been traveling with the pilgrims, he still didn’t notice how off everything was until it was practically spelled out for him.
“Must you choose the most…volatile of methods to ensure our travels, Pilgrim?” Tripitaka asked as he cringed at the way Wukong shook his fur, flinging bits of gore and slime from his fur. Macaque was quite glad he was up in a tree instead of right beside the disgusting immortal.
“It’s not my fault those slime demons were, well, slime demons. Or that they would explode when I hit them in the face!” Wujing snorted as Bajie muttered something unpleasant like usual. Tripitaka visibly deflated, seemingly deciding this was an argument he would be unable to win. At least until the next time Wukong gets covered in gore.
“Even so, do you not feel uncomfortable? There was a river you could’ve flown to in order to clean yourself,” Tripitaka continued to fret.
“Nah, they were trying to turn you into soup!”
“And I’m very glad you stopped them before they could. But afterwards you were free to clean up.”
“Eh, nah. I’ll wash myself when we stop for the night,” Tripitaka frowned, tilting his head to the side in that specific way that meant he was trying to remember something. Face scrunching up before he hummed neutrally.
“Why don’t you simply groom your fur?”
“What? No no no, why would I do that? Grooming is a social thing, do you see any other monkeys around here?”
“If you’d allow us, we could help.”
“Pshh, nah. I’m fine Master. It’s a lot easier for me to do it since none of you know how.”
“You could always teach us.”
“Like I’d let Bajie anywhere near my fur,” Wukong grinned cheekily as said pig demon bristled and began to protest noisily. Tripitaka however soldiered on, though not without a long suffering look overtaking his expression.
“Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult. You must’ve needed to explain it to someone else before right? Younger monkeys maybe?”
“Nope!” Wukong answered easily, tail swishing behind him as he picked bits of slime off his fur. “All the other demon monkeys I’ve met had this stuff ingrained in them. Instinct y’know? I had to be taught for some reason, probably had to do with my whole stone creation deal. I've never met anyone else like me either so I was just a one off thing.”
What.
“Hah! I bet it’s because another one of you would be too annoying for the world to handle!”
“As if! I am the powerful and handsome Sun Wukong! More of me would be a blessing! At least then the world wouldn’t be forced to see so much of your ugly mug.”
“Hey!”
“It’s the truth! Imagine a whole species like me! Great and mighty and handsome— though obviously not as handsome as me—” Wukong continued to ramble. Tripitaka looked familiarly exasperated by their bickering as Wujing watched with a faint smile. Macaque could only continue to stare dumbly as his thoughts raced.
No one else like Wukong?
He had to have meant that in referring to his immortalities. His strength. His whole Wukong-ness. Macaque wasn’t immortal like Wukong was but he was still like Wukong. A celestial primate is what Nezha said they were officially classified as. Two of four to have ever lived according to the rumors— though the mysterious baboon and gibbon hadn’t been seen for centuries by the time he and Wukong appeared. Neither had particularly infamous tales too, unlike Wukong and himself.
But Wukong had just said there was no one else like him. He was lying, right? At least that’s what Macaque hopes. As awful as it’d be— Wukong not caring about him enough to even mention him to his precious fellow pilgrims —it would be better than the alternative.
That Wukong wasn’t lying.
That he genuinely didn’t know another being like him.
Which meant Macaque was in a much, much more complicated situation compared to before.
Later that night as Macaque attempted to fall asleep he heard Wukong and Wujing talking. Gentle murmurs versus sharp vibrations that indicated it was the two of them as opposed to the other members of the pilgrimage.
“Are you really the only one of your kind Eldest Brother Sun? Surely there must be someone else.”
“Nope. Like I told Master, I’m the only one! Pretty cool right?”
“I guess so. Does it not get lonely?”
“Me? Lonely? I’m not some loser Wujing, it’d be awesome to meet more demons like me sure but I’ve survived this long with just my demon monkeys. I’m just special y’know?”
“Whatever you say, Eldest Brother.”
The subject of their conversation strayed after that but Macaque couldn’t help but be drawn to the answers given by the unaware beings below him. Wukong was the only one of his species. He’d never met Macaque or even knew about the fact he was a celestial primate.
How could this happen? Macaque rifled through his memories of the past few weeks, the strange quirks Wukong had that Macaque should’ve known. The elaborate stories he told of things that had never happened in his time. The rest of the pilgrims’ odd traits too. The journey being so…off. Wrong.
A world where Wukong never met Macaque.
A world where Macaque never met Wukong.
He stared at the sky until the sun rose the next morning.