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Macaque was… lonely to say the least. And Wukong… Wukong was gone. They had this plan, this daydream to defeat the Jade Emperor. Macaque never cared much for it. Why care about others? Humanity had never cared for him. He had no love for them, he couldn’t care less about how they were treated by Heaven. All they were useful for was stealing from them.
But Wukong was interested in overthrowing the Jade Emperor. He highly doubted it was because he cared for humanity. Wukong always cared for himself. He just wanted more power, and to get back at Heaven for himself. And Macaque did everything Wukong wanted. He’d follow him to the ends of the Earth. As long as they were together, Macaque was something. He mattered.
But, what was he now? Now that Wukong is gone. They failed. Wukong lost, and was trapped by Heaven. Macaque was all alone now. He was nothing. Sure, there was the Brotherhood, but he was never fond of any of them. He left them quite quickly. Just in time too it seems. Fire had raged through the lush forests of Flower Fruit Mountain. Macaque saved as many monkeys as he could. But it wasn’t enough.
He was never enough. He wasn’t anything without Wukong. He needed Wukong. He felt like he was going insane, alone on Flower Fruit Mountain. Alone, without his sun. The sun he needed to grow, live, and prosper. Macaque knew there was no point in thinking like this. But, Gods, did he miss Wukong.
He didn’t know what to do without him. He felt dead. Every long, long, day was the same. Make sure all the monkeys were okay, sit outside the cave and wait for Wukong, check on the monkeys again. Then wait some more, then throw in some crying, and a lot more waiting. He could barely get himself to eat or sleep. Only doing so when the mother monkeys would pester him about it.
He felt nothing. He tried to distract himself sometimes. He try to write another play. But then he’d remember how he used them out to Wukong. His sun was never one for reading. Or he’d try to draw, but then he’d remember drawing with Wukong. He’d try stargazing. But then he’d remember sleeping outside with Wukong. Everything reminded him of Wukong.
He missed holding his hand. He missed reading to him. He missed joking with him, playing together, sneaking away from the Brotherhood. He missed everything. He just wanted his sun back.
Dear Gods, he just wanted his sun back.