Chapter Text
Wukong has always remembered certain quirks of Macaques.
He remembers the different ways his ears would move or flutter depending on his mood, how he looked when he laughed, his favorite position to fall asleep in (hugging Wukong), and how he could speak any language.
When they were young Wukong can remember times Macaque would randomly slip into a foreign tongue. Later Mac had explained that sometimes he would hear conversations from other places and would try to include himself despite there was no one to hear him; he said that’s what he did before he met Wukong.
After that Wukong swore to himself to never leave Macaque’s side for long.
Wukong remembers when Macaque had started acting strange. How he would stare at Wukong when he thought the other didn’t notice, and the blush that formed on his cheeks.
He decided to ask some of the older monkeys in the troop.
They told him that it could be a sign of love, among other things that wouldn’t make sense.
The thought of Macaque loving him filled Wukong with new and indescribable feelings and a sense of hope. Despite how much he wanted to, he chose not to push Mac in case he was misinterpreting things.
As the days dragged on into months and years the signs only became more obvious, but he chose to stay quiet for his friend.
Then Macaque started a new routine, every night as they were falling asleep he began to whisper words in unknown languages. Wukong had no clue what was being said, but he could feel the weight of each sound that left his friend’s mouth, and wished he knew.
Slowly Macaque stopped using so many languages and they slowly trickled down to one.
While the words were still unfamiliar Wukong could tell they were Chinese.
He yearned to know what was being said to him, the words that were repeatedly whispered in his ear every night.
For nearly a century more Wukong would hear these unknown words said to him, he remembered their sounds and held them close to his heart.
Then it all came to an end.
He angered the gods and was trapped under a mountain for five hundred years without his dearest companion.
Then he was set free by a master he had no choice but to follow, and who he eventually came to care for.
Then his friend return, and he killed Macaque.
Having to fight Macaque again was painful.
Seeing him who he had loved so deeply for so long hating him so much hurt .
That night Wukong could not help but reminisce after his anger had simmered down. HE thought about how he and Macaque had played, how they had fought together, how if not for his own greed they could still be together.
Then his mind drifted to what had become their longest tradition, the words Macaque used to whisper to him.
It was at that moment he realized, he knows what Macaque had been telling him now, he knows those words.
He couldn’t stop the tears from forming in his eyes.
Macaque had been telling Wukong how much he loved him for centuries and he hadn’t known. He had been apologizing for making Wukong hate him so much in the future.
A sob ripped itself from Wukong's throat.
He mourned what could’ve been, what could’ve been if not for him.
All the years waiting for Macaque to gather the courage to tell Wukong his feelings, only to now know it was his current self's fault that he never told him.
To think all of this has always been his fault.