Chapter Text
Six months since the death of Fang Runin
Nezha entered the household shrine, at least he was allowed to have this room with the Hesperians taking over. The character “方” (fang) hung up in the room, proud and stubborn. The scroll was old, dusty, the character barely distinguishable, but it was there, determined and present.
Nezha kneeled down at the altar, bowing down as he would to an ancestor, his hair swooping down with him.
“Hello, Rin, I have arrived back from a diplomatic trip and just wanted to visit you.”
He said with his back straight, still on his knees, his hand in front of the other. “I know you probably still hate me even in death,” he chuckled. “But I can’t help but feel that you might be proud of me.” Tears gathered in his eyes, not shedding, but there.
The candles went out.
You fucking cunt, go to bed, the voice of Rin told him in his head.