It would have been more suiting if it was rainy and miserable out, but it was sunny during Guzi's funeral.

Qi Rong was in disbelief. He still hadn't fully accepted it, even as he scrounged around for proper clothes to wear to a funeral. He just didn't quite believe Guzi was dead, even though he knew it to be true. He'd seen it with his own two green eyes. He's held Guzi's life stricken body in his own arms. His boy had grown but he still wasn't grown up. He was still a child in his arms. If he never got that letter Qi Rong sent, then he died not knowing how much Qi Rong really cared for him, not knowing how proud he was of his boy.

Guzi had made quite the name for himself while Qi Rong was gone. There were many people gathered there that day. Watching his casket lower into the ground, Qi Rong still hadn't quite accepted it.

The city locked into a sound of prayer, wishing Guzi well in the next step of spiritual life, wherever that supposedly was. It was sore to the ears, horribly composed of sobs and weak whimpers. Qi Rong hadn't spoken to his cousin at all during the funeral. He actually kept quite the distances.

This was the worst thing imaginable.

That's probably why he couldn't believe it yet. Every moment of every working day, Qi Rong looked forward to seeing Guzi again. Despite himself, the boy completely shaped Qi Rong for the better and now he had just... killed himself?

Qi Rong stayed after the funeral closed. He stood over the unfilled grave of his son, looking down at that wooden casket, wishing they could swap places.

"You should go home," said someone who'd approached him from behind. Qi Rong glanced to his side, seeing Xie Lian stand there despite his efforts to avoid him.

"No," he said stubbornly.

"Cousin," Xie Lian sighed, considering his words carefully, "it'll be hard, I know—"

"Shut up," Qi Rong said stiffly.

"I know how difficult this is for you—"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'll just miss having someone to clean my house and do my chores," Qi Rong said, turning his head away from Xie Lian to pout.

"Cousin..."

"I don't want you speaking with me," Qi Rong said, lowering his tone. He was still condescending but it was masked with mourning. "If you had done a good job guarding over him, maybe he wouldn't have killed himself."

"We don't know what happened, cousin," Xie Lian reminded, "it's not any one persons fault. Perhaps I glanced over warning signs when I shouldn't have, sure. But I don't think Guzi was—"

"You did a shit job with him," Qi Rong said, "now leave. I want to say goodbye to my— leave."

"Okay," Xie Lian nodded respectfully. This was probably the first time Qi Rong had spoken to him without cussing him out. Though, he really really wanted to. It would be so easy to blame this on Xie Lian.

His body twitched the whole walk home. He must have been agitated or just in general anguish. Was this really what heartbreak felt like because it was as if his whole world was shattering and all he could do was press his hands against the glass and pray for it to stay together. Each step he took was heavier than the last. When he got home, he decided to do the unexpected.

He prayed. He'd never been religious and actually hated the idea of there being any gods out there but if there were, he really needed them to listen to him right now.

He wanted to be with Guzi. So much so that it made him sick. He pled with any god that might listen if they were real. He didn't feel like himself. He hadn't felt like himself in three years. He didn't know what else to do with himself.

Weeks went by and he was never himself.

All he could do was wallow in despair, more miserable than he'd ever been before. Once crude and audacious, Qu Rong quickly became a husk of what he'd been. Absolutely nothing now. Misery, illness, happiness, all were nothing.

Maybe he'd been going about this all wrong. He'd considered this on the third week of mourning. He ought to venture out of his shell and break free of the hold death had on him. Guzi would laugh at him right now for what he'd was doing. Maybe, to properly please himself and Guzi, he needed to devote himself to the boy and his own happiness to still be with him.

Yes, that would be significantly better. Guzi had dreams he'd never get to see. If Guzi was with him right now, somehow, in spirit—or perhaps looking upon him from heaven—Qi Rong thought he ought to show him all the things that he'd wanted to see. Guzi had always wanted to see real planes, not just bombers. He wanted to ride one some day, to tick off the box like he had before with his goal of riding a train.

Qi Rong couldn't afford to ride a plane, but he couldn't certainly find a way to see one. Then, he could pretend he was showing it to Guzi.

However, when he found a way to do this by sneaking his way to a landing field, the hole in his chest didn't fill even in the slightest. This half made mistake was just a pathetic excuse to distract himself. Watching a plane take off and rise up to the sky, he wondered how high up he could fall from without dying...

***

Seeing the flames stir around that torch, Qi Rong threw himself over a very young Guzi. This was many years ago now. His body shielded the boy from the fire which scorched Qi Rong during the near climax of battle against former emperor Jun Wu. How Qi Rong had ever been involved in that was beyond him. All he knew was that in that very moment, the most important thing he could do was protect Guzi.

Later, singed and burned, Qi Rong received half hearted treatment from that bastard Lang Qianqiu who cared so little about how well a job he did that Qi Rong would later end up getting an infection. Once treated, he was left alone with Guzi who refused to leave his side and just would not stop crying about what happened. Qi Rong kept trying to get him to shut up but Guzi couldn't help it!

"Kid! Son of mine! Man up!" Qi Rong barked. He was laying on his front side so that his bandaged wounds could exist without hurting him further. It was a little humiliating to lie like this and try looking someone in the eye, face half smooshed against a cot, but it was just Guzi so he made due.

"Don't you hear me?" Qi Rong scoffed, "stop blubbering! You're annoying the hell out of me! Besides, you're not even the one injured!"

"B-but- I can't! I'm s-sorry! You almost d-died!"

"You know I ain't your read dad, right?" Qi Rong rolled his eyes, "what's it matter to you if I die anyway?"

"I know you're not my dad!" Guzi whimpered, "but my dad was mean and horrible! You've always given me plenty of meat to eat and let try all sorts of food! You've shown me more of the world! My dad hated me! He hated me! He h-hated me! I'm glad he's dead!!!"

Qi Rong was struck dumb. He didn't know what to say to that because he really hadn't expected such a worded response.

"I wish you were my dad! That's why I'm crying!"

"Shut up already!" Qi Rong exclaimed, now feeling admittedly embarrassed. "If you can't stop crying then why don't you do something else?!"

"L-like what?"

"I dunno. Sing. That'll make you stop crying."

***

Maybe that was where that song came from—the one Guzi sang almost every night to lull himself to sleep. Qi Rong couldn't remember what he sang at the time but he did know the main song Guzi usually recited before bed. And now, it had wormed its way back into his ear.

It would be so embarrassing to be caught singing that song himself as he tried to sleep. However, singing it only made the way he felt even worse. It wasn't a comforting gift Guzi left behind, it was spoiled and sour and made his stomach churn uncomfortably as he butchered the song. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't been sleeping but this was different tonight.

He wanted to die.

He just wanted to be with Guzi.

And after living such a horrible life, maybe death wouldn't be such a bad thing.

He found the shotgun he always kept hidden by the door.

A/N

This is the weirdest writing style I've ever attempted. At least in 3rd person. I usually am so action and dialogue heavy and this is kind of like just telling the story instead, like a fable??? But not at all that

References to the song:

- "the sound of it that brings me there—"
Is supposed to be the intro to the funeral he's tuning out.

-"This city locked into a song of prayer, that finds so melody."
The town gathered there prays as he's out in the ground.

- References to lyrics throughout like with "The twitching muscles of every step I take" and so on

- "The prayer is all of me"
Qi Rong prays for the first time (I would like to note I am note religious, but this fic will be getting into the Christian concept of hell since the album IS inspired by Dante's Inferno) (but also I call it the Underworld Spiral and it's not the Christian hell lol)

- Chorus
He's miserable as fuck and wishing Guzi were there

-"Maybe I have yet to venture out, see the places that I hear about"
This is when he decides to start doing things that would make Guzi happy

-"Planes and trains and cars"
Obviously when Qi Rong visits a landing field. Also mentions offhand that Guzi fulfilled his wish of riding a train already

-"Leave the door ajar"
When Qi Rong is like "ayo if I jumped out of a plane would I die"

-Chorus again
This time he's like "yo what if I joined Guzi???" And then that memory of Guzi from a few years ago happens.