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“can you come with me to windrise? ”
as the green bard had asked with a tormented look on his face. and by that alone, xiao knew better not to ask and press on the matter. it was none of his business after all. but he couldn’t help but be curious.
xiao stops himself from pondering more.
on their journey together, venti kept his mouth shut and seemed distracted by something. it wasn’t like him to hold that expression on his face. xiao supposes that even people like him can have those days too.
each day reveals an even paler, weaker, venti. weak to the point his feeble legs can’t bear to stand anymore. xiao rushes to his side and carries venti on his back.
we are but far from our destination.
venti sleeps often on xiao’s warm back.
there were times that the wind was unpredictable, unstable. harsh and cold and the next, too meek and gentle—it felt like it wasn’t even there. whenever xiao sneaks a glance behind him, he would see the bottom of venti’s braid glow neon each time those winds blew.
what a strange ability. xiao thought to himself before turning back to their path, is that his vision reacting to it? odd. if it were… xiao felt himself redden at the thought of it.
i hope my hair doesn’t turn out like his too.
xiao secretly hopes it does.
at moments when the bard is indeed awake, he notifies his yaksha friend by poking his cheek before giving him a sluggish smile. xiao finds himself smiling back every time it happens. he bounces venti to arrange their position to which venti laughs at every time it happens.
it was their own language, no words spoken.
venti feels a tiny bit better.
of course, what’s a trip to mondstadt without hilichurls jumping at you at random times? xiao often evades them with ease, which is truly against his character. he’s built to fight, not to run away.
venti assists him with the wind, allowing them to glide away from trouble. xiao politely asks him to stop whenever he does it. venti insists. xiao sees no point in bickering and stays silent. he never once questioned about the bard’s abilities.
venti wants this all over already.
the anemo duo arrives in windrise at long last, taking a moment to breathe in, venti taps xiao’s shoulders and the latter brings him down to sit. the bard offers xiao to sit with him and of course, he couldn’t say no to that.
they sit together, watching the blue skies and the green fields. venti finds comfort on xiao’s shoulder, not minding their own personal space by this point. xiao attempts to reciprocate the action by resting his head on top of venti’s. they both felt warm.
venti scooted closer to xiao. and did he.
“over there, by the statue.” venti whispers, breath benign on xiao’s ear. soothing and refined, sounding so similar to—
venti groans and leans even closer to xiao.
venti’s fighting so hard to whatever’s happening to him, there’s simply no time to be thinking of these things.
“we’re almost there.”
“no need to rush.”
“but we have to. you’ve gotten sapped and unwell.”
as much as venti tries to deny it, xiao was right.
each step brings them closer to the statue, xiao has been instructed—asked—to place venti down on the statue. as venti held the dusty ground—looks like it hasn't been cleaned for a while—his ghostly yet comely face returned to its cheeky rose color.
the bard tries to stand up on his own feet only to wobble and fall back down. xiao reaches out, “i can do this on my own!” the sound of his voice sounded lively as well. he’ll be alright. xiao trusted him.
venti stood up again, looked up at xiao and kept staring. was venti going to walk over to him? xiao was somehow puzzled but nevertheless extended both his arms out.
just in case venti would fall last minute. just in case.
venti burrows his eyebrows and seems perplexed at this whole ordeal before turning away from the yaksha. xiao never felt that humiliated in his lifetime.
venti’s steps were shaky but is definitely getting there, they atleast get him somewhere.
soon enough, venti is by the tree. back turned, still not facing xiao.
it felt so ruthful to watch him.
xiao was about to speak but his thoughts got caught up in his throat as a gentle light greeted venti. the yaksha lost his composure as bafflement bubbled up in himself but stood still, mouth shut. again, xiao reminds himself to not question. he's only here to escort the bard.
he watches venti as the rain pours, dandelions and specks of light dance round him. the wind dies down and the dandelions float upwards as xiao casts his head downwards. xiao gazed at his gloved hand, feeling uncertain and the rain grew heavier. the deafening silence ridicules him, millions of thoughts swirled up a storm in his head, and out comes his glowing companion from his hand.
it slowly floats over to venti and joins as one with him. the beam of light shines brighter, winds howling, venti turns to his friend who's stunned with confusion— thank you, —before the light goes off in a similar way like fireworks, dandelions swaying with the rain.
xiao's gaze glued onto where venti once stood and was struck with realization. barbatos.
it was him all along.
xiao wept.
dusk falls like dried leaves, how many setting suns has he seen since they've departed?
and for the first time in what felt like forever, the wind gently tousled xiao's hair.
and his vision returned to him.