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Venti had always enjoyed talking, he liked to share, took pride in seeing excitement bloom across peoples’ faces as they listened to his stories. widened eyes and gaped mouths as he slowly revealed the grand plot unfolding.
He told stories of everything and everyone, the fantastical beasts he fought, the spectacular sights he witnessed, the bizarre yet wonderful people he had encountered. He wove them into songs, poetic melodies that flowed through Der Frühling, tales of old and new engraved into his music.
Except the tales of his past. No, those he had carefully locked away long ago, far from the light of the day, vowed to never relive again. Some pain will never fade, just as some scars never heal, healing with time was a foreign concept for those who could live forever. For Venti, immortality was as much a blessing as it was a curse.
Today, Venti had finished his performance and was planning to down bottles of dandelion wines at the tavern. The weather was particularly delightful that day, he had stood in front of the Monstadt square and sung the entire afternoon, the warm sunlight urged him to stay a little longer than usual, and he was quite tired.
The day’s exhaustion evaporated from his body as the first drop of pure heavenliness slid down his throat. He could see Diluc’s slightly disapproving look from the corner of his eyes, but he had little heart to care. Who was he to judge anyway? Coming from the person who barely had any friends due to his enormously intimidating aura. Swiveling around the last few droplets of wine, Venti raised the bottle, in the motion of finishing it off. When suddenly his hands grasped thin air.
Venti's eyes traveled from the bottle dangling in the air to the hand carrying it, clad in a dark emerald glove adorned with a silver metallic cusp. He didn't need to see the face to know the owner.
Venti sighed, as much as he enjoyed the company of a certain green-haired Adeptus, he was simply too exhausted for his lectures today.
“Hi Xiao.” He said without turning around, eyes fixed on a particularly dark coloured stain on the wooden bartop.
The visitor said nothing, only gently placed down the bottle on his other end. A moment later, the shuffle of a stool, then the warmth of another’s body next to his signaled his will to stay.
Venti continued to study the peculiar stain that seemed to have morphed into a little cat lazily stretching, or was it an eagle mid flight? Interesting indeed, he mused to himself. The visitor next to him apparently was also in no hurry to engage in a conversation. The two sat silently at the bar, the faint sweet tang of apple wine lingered in the air, reminding Venti of a much simpler, much happier time.
—
Despite how natural he was now at spinning the tales of the past, Venti was not always the exuberant colourful bard he seemed to be. Once, countless sunrises ago, he too was just a simple listener, drifting from places to places aimlessly, merely following the whims of the wind.
That was, until he encountered him. The boy who shone brighter than the sun. Venti could still recall that beautiful, magical smile, with him, he was suddenly no longer lost. Like a moth’s eager flight drawn to the lamp, he too was tied to the boy with an inexplicable bond, for reasons he now still could not comprehend. They wandered the grassy fields of the land now called Mondstadt, under the shades of giant oak trees, through the quiet woodlands. Just a boy and a wisp of the wind, in their own world that no one dared to disturb.
He was Icarus mid-flight, seeking for a freedom he thought was within reach. Yet like inescapable fate, the harsh and cruel golden star had burnt through his wings.
—
They sat there, stewing in silence. Finally, Venti could bear it no longer. He could tell Xiao had something to say, but he was waiting for him to break the silence. Having never been the patient one, Venti was always the loser in games like these, and it seemed that today was no exception.
“Xiao,” Venti sighed with exasperation, “what are you doing here.”
“I think you know why.”
Xiao opened his mouth only to quickly close it, as if unsure of whether to continue talking, a moment later when faced with Venti’s stillness, he seemed to have made up his mind.
“Venti, you promised you wouldn't do this anymore.”
“I didn't. And I don't know what you’re talking about. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Well, that last statement came out a little more forceful than he intended.
“You’re lying.” Xiao said pointedly.
“Lying?” Venti forced out a few dry laughs before then saying,
“Simply absurd. I have no need to lie to anyone. I am the archon of freedom. Why would I ever favour deception over truth?”
Xiao said nothing, merely continued to stare at him with those piercing golden eyes. His gaze unwavering, it carried an underlying intensity that Venti was almost scared to uncover.
Nonsense, when had he ever been scared of anything? And certainly not some kid Zhongli took under his wing thousands of years ago. And so he pushed on.
“Plus, why would I feel the need to lie to you?”
“Yes, that’s a great question, for you to answer.”
Venti knew that he was behaving like a child, immature and stubborn to admit to his faults, yet Xiao always seemed to poke at his sore spots, knew how to annoy him the most, though he often did not realise it.
Something about the way Xiao looked at him, full of earnest and trust, with kindness and gratitude, like Venti was the saviour of all seven nations,
Sure, Venti kind of did save his life, in some way. But to be completely honest, Venti gave out tens and twenties of visions every day, he granted them to people he thought were worthy of the power of the wind, not for personal reasons.
He really could no longer deal with Xiao, with all of his sincerity and his strange protectiveness when it came to Venti’s well-being. He remembered the first time they had met, he had been drinking, of course. He couldn’t remember how many bottles he had finished that night, but he was on the verge of a blissful blackout, one that would knock him right out until the next morning.
With a gust of wind, Xiao had appeared, scowling like an angry gremlin, he snatched away the wine Venti held, and dragged him out of the bar within the swift of a second.
Since then, Xiao seemed to always be around. Acting true to his name, the Guardian Yaksha, he guarded Venti like a loyal hound to its abode.
At least he had learned to keep his boundaries now after Venti finally snapped and told him off. He had sulked like a naughty child told off by their parents, but he had obeyed.
Venti wasn’t even sure where his annoyance and anger rooted from, he didn’t dislike XIao, in fact, he had grown accustomed to the presence of this little devil.
On a good day, he might even call him a dear friend, definitely not to Xiao’s face though.
Then perhaps, he himself was the problem.
Being on the receiving end of Xiao’s appreciation and gratitude felt, wrong. Like two misplaced puzzles pieces, edges ragged and sharp, forcibly slotted into a place they didn't belong.
Venti was not worthy of him.
Venti didn’t deserve his concerned looks, not his time, not the displaced saviour title. If anything, Zhongli was the one who truly saved him.
He didn’t deserve his love.
Love.
Venti had been scared to use that word, as if the avoidance of it might somehow make it not real. But archons above, Xiao loves him, doesn’t he?
What a horrifying revelation.
Almost nothing good ever came from love. If Venti hated anything about becoming more human, it was that he had the ability to love. To feel love, in all its glory, in all of its heart wrenching pain, and tearful farewells.
What he wouldn’t give to be a wind spirit once again, to feel nothing but simple contentment as the days passed on.
Please don’t love me, he wanted to say. Stay away, I would only hurt you. Instead, he snatched the glass from Xiao’s hand.
Go Xiao, I’m really tired. I just can’t today okay.
“Xiao can you please just leave me alone? I never asked for,” Venti paused to wave his hands dismissively in the air, “whatever this is. Don’t you have monsters to slaughter? A nation to protect? I don’t need you to babysit me.”
As soon as those words slipped out of his mouth, Venti felt a pang of regret. He pushed it down and instead turned away so he could no longer see the hurt expression on Xiao’s face.
Xiao was smart enough to know when to leave him alone.
With a soft clatter of the cavern door, he was gone, like he was never here. Only the lingering smell of crisp Qingxins any remnant of his visit.
Looking back to his hands, the half clear liquid suddenly no longer looked enticing. For one of the first times in his life, Venti was not in the mood to drink.
—
It had been nearly two weeks since that… less than pleasant encounter (Venti has decided to refer to it as such) with Xiao. As he aimlessly strolled around the Mondstadt plaza, kicking pebbles and occasionally greeting the passing by people, he wondered how Xiao had been doing.
No, he most certainly did not miss him. He was just, worried. Yes, worried, just as a friend would another, and as a responsible archon would to his people. Xiao tended to be quite reckless, fighting every battle like it was his last, with absolutely no sense of self-preservation. Venti scoffed, it was truly a mystery how he had stayed alive all those years before Venti had granted him the vision. Did he really tear through his enemies with pure raw physical strength, using nothing but his bare hands and a spear?
Venti shook his head free of those thoughts, whatever, it was none of his business anyway. So what if this had been the longest time Xiao had not visited him since they had met? So what if Venti was scared that the last conversation had driven that relationship up a cliff, with no chance of reconciliation?
Venti still could not shake the hurt that had struck Xiao’s face when he told him to leave, he could feel it like it was his own bare heart getting stomped on, not that he had one, but his gnosis should be the equivalent.
“Venti! Hey! Over here.”
The voice of Margaret pulled him back, right, he still had a performance to do. He still had a duty, to make all these people smile, to spread a little more happiness through the town of winds as the cheerful bard he was.
—
It was late when Venti got home. Contrary to his usual habits, he did not drink a single drop of alcohol. That’s right, Venti was utterly, completely sober. Whether it was the uncertainty of Xiao’s safety gnawing at him or the lingering guilt of his foul attitude that today, he was simply too frustrated to sit down and enjoy his wine.
Slowly walking up to his doorway, Venti suddenly froze in place, because slumped against his door frame, sitting on the steps was none other than the infamous Liyue Yaksha himself. Except, any of Venti's relief and joy quickly melted into horror at the sight of blood on Xiao’s arms.
Blood. There was, so much blood. dark crimson plastered on his entire upper right arm, it trickled down his hand into the thick grass. The air smelled like the faint tinge of metal and the aftermath of a battle to the death.
Xiao’s face was smeared with splatters of crimson, his usual alert amber eyes were half-lidded, barely staying open as if he was struggling to even stay awake.
“Venti…” Xiao stretched out what seemed to be a smile yet could only be perceived as a grimace with the state he was in. Then he promptly passed out, right in front of Venti’s door, slamming into the overgrown grass.
The next morning, Venti rummaged through his pantry, determined to make Xiao a home-cooked, delicious breakfast that would hopefully ease into his apology. Yes, an apology. After the horrifying surprise of a blacked out Xiao in his doorway, and the entire night spent bandaging him up, cleaning him free of blood, Venti had decided he never wanted to experience that again. Not that he minded tending to his wounds that much, but the sight of Xiao’s limp body, covered in cuts and bruises would linger in his nightmares for weeks, and he only wished for them to go back to the way it used to be. He was determined to apologise, and own up to his faults, maybe, he hadn't decided how he was going to do it yet, he only hoped that Xiao would have a little bit of mercy in his heart left for him.
Maybe he didn't deserve Xiao after all, but he was not going to be the one to push him away. For once, Venti allowed himself to dream a little, perhaps he too could revel in this comfort a little longer, even just in pretense.
As if on cue, Xiao gingerly walked into his kitchen, looking adorable as the early morning sleepiness still clung to him, his features soft and open. He looked around for a few seconds, as if confused about his whereabouts, until clarity began to slowly fill his face, his expression once again controlled and meticulously poised.
Ah, Venti tutted under his breath, what a shame.
Resisting the very strong urge to pat the little strand of hair that peeked from Xiao’s messy morning hair, refusing to be tamed no matter how much Xiao attempted in futile to smooth it down, instead he said, “Ah good, you’re up,”
Xiao nodded meekly, eyes darting from Venti’s light smile to the golden eggs sizzling above the stove, a hint of surprise shone in his eyes.
“Sit, breakfast is almost ready.”
Xiao nodded again wordlessly and shifted over to the table.
They eat in complete silence, no form of conversation made except for the little thank you Xiao muttered as Venti passed him the food. Which by the way, Venti was quite proud of.
Several times, Venti caught Xiao opening his mouth to speak, then shut it and proceeded to stuff more food into his mouth, as if letting out his annoyance on the poor omelet. As much as Venti loved to watch Xiao scowl at his food, yet looking nothing less of complete adorableness, he felt it was time to finally say something.
“Xiao-”
“Venti I-”
They both froze midway, then looked up at each other in shock, Venti snorted, and Xiao couldn’t hold down a smile, soon the sound of laughter bubbled around them, warmth radiated through Venti as he looked into Xiao’s warm eyes, and suddenly the room seemed much brighter.
“Ah anyway, Xiao you go first then. What is it?”
XIao fidgeted under his gaze, his fingers unconsciously tugging on his sleeves, a habit he got whenever he became agitated or nervous.
“Hey hey, it’s okay, just tell me, what did you want to say?”
Xiao turned his head slightly, averting his gaze,
“Imsorry” he muttered.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bothering you again. I know you’re probably still mad at me, after last time.”
Venti was absolutely flabbergasted, what? Was he having trouble hearing? Why on earth would Xiao be the one apologising to him? How much of an asshole was he that day? This was going to be harder than he thought. His insides twisted when he realised that Xiao thought he was the one in the wrong, that he had to apologise, for the faults of Venti.
Arghh. He groaned while pulling his hair out in annoyance.
Xiao looked positively frightened. Trying not to linger too much on the bitter discovery that Xiao was scared of him, Venti shut him up with a hand.
“No. Stop. Apologising”
Xiao gulped, but stayed silent.
“I’m the one who should apologise.” Venti sighed and softened his tone, “I shouldn’t have said those harsh words to you. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t mean any of them, not at all. I was just in a bad mood that day, and the alcohol definitely didn’t help.”
Venti continued, not daring to look up, and with all the sincerity he could gather,
“I cherish you dearly Xiao, you are one of my dearest companions in this world, and I would hate myself if I, with my own stupidity, drove you away.”
Now it was Venti’s turn to be nervous.
“I’m sorry for everything, for saying those things, for not appreciating you enough, for not reciprocating your kindness. Will you, um, will you forgive me Xiao?”
As an archon, the number of times Venti had apologised to people and truly meant it could be counted on a single hand, and he wondered how people could do this daily, with his palms sweating and his breaths quickening with every passing second, damn these human emotions.
“Venti.” Xiao’s tone was inexplicably soft, like the gentle beatings of butterfly wings on Venti’s (metaphorical) heart.
“Venti. Of course I forgive you.”
Venti let out a long drawing breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding in, relief washed over him like calming ocean waves, his frizzling nerves finally settling down.
“Good.” He said, “That’s good.” before splitting into a wide grin.
Slowly, he reached out his right hand and inched it closer to Xiao’s, moving at the speed of a snail, testing for Xiao’s reactions. Easily, Xiao uncovered his hand and enveloped Venti’s in his, the intimate sensation shooting straight up Venti’s spine, wrapping him in a comforting embrace. Was he blushing a little? Maybe, who’s to say?
However, as much as Venti would like to revel in this moment forever, there was something he needed to lecture Xiao about.
Venti shifted on his seat and fixed a serious expression on his face.
“I am mad about something though Xiao.”
“What, what do you mean?”
“Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I came home last night, to your bloodied, wounded body on my porch? I almost fainted from shock!”
“Ah- That’s-”
“You have to stop doing that Xiao, you have to stop treating yourself like some kind of invincible warrior. I have no doubt you’re strong, Alatus, the great Conqueror of Demons, the Golden-Winged King." Xiao shifted a bit uncomfortably at that, as if embarrassed. "But you're also just you, already on your shoulders you carry years of pain and loss, too great for anyone to endure alone. You’re not alone in the protection of Liyue, there are others now, the Millileth, the traveller, they all do what they can, so please don’t push yourself Xiao. What you do, what you have done is more than enough. “
“Also,” Venti added on with a glint of humour dancing in his eyes, “If you keep claiming I gave you a second chance at life shouldn’t you at least cherish this chance?”
“Not claiming,” Xiao said weakly.
“What?”
“You DID give me a second chance at life”
“Oh my god.” Venti rolled his eyes, but the hint of a smile on his lips was unmistakable.
“Oh so I’m not one of your dearest companions in this world?” XIao had the audacity to wag his fingers in the air and quote his words mere seconds ago.
Venti rolled his eyes, but he was glad that there was no longer tension hanging in the air, no more unspoken words lingering in the spaces between them, like a tightly strung string bound to be broken.
“I was scared, you know.”
Venti looked up quizzically as Xiao continued on.
“Not of death, no, just, my last thought was, what if I never see Venti again. What if our last conversation was just, that one. “
Venti felt his heart shatter at that, any last bit of nervousness washed away by the defeated look on Xiao’s face, he leaned forward with urgency and hugged him, as tightly as he could without hurting his still fresh wounds. To hell with embarrassing himself.
“Xiao, oh Xiao, I’m so sorry”
Xiao smiled weakly, “It’s fine Venti, it’s all in the past now.”
“No, it’s not”
“I’m sorry for being a coward, I’ve been so caught up in my own stupid self-loathing and self-deprecation that I didn’t even realise how much it’s been hurting you. My past, my traumas and my pain shouldn’t have to also burden you too. I’m sorry, again.”
“Thank you for saying that , but you’re wrong you know.”
“I don’t mind the burden. In fact, share them with me, all of your pain, all of your grief, all of your sufferings," Xiao tenderly brushed Venti's right cheek, "I think, it'll be easier with two people.”
Venti took in the sight before him; the raw openness on Xiao's face, his eyes brimming with a brightness so dazzling, akin to that of the glowing morning sun, He felt something inside him break, like a spiderweb of cracks spreading across a glass filled to the brim, one feathery touch, one gentle gaze, and everything came crashing down. Suddenly it was all too much. He grabbed Xiao’s hand.
“Come on, let's get some fresh air.”
—
Atop Snarsnatcher Cliff.
Xiao tightened his grasp on Venti’s hand,
“Tell me the story of you.” He said. “The real you.”
Venti only stood there, amidst the bellowing winds of the Mondstadt fields, on the land that he had protected and watched over for millenniums. The land that had birthed him, taught him fear and heartbreak, hope and determination.
He was a god, yet in that peculiar moment, standing face to face with a certain Liyue Yaksha, gaze colliding with a pair of warm glowing ambers, he found himself vulnerable. Not weak. Only seen. Seen with all his flaws and shortcomings. Without the excessive attires nor the fancy titles. Seen, for him and him only.
And maybe, he didn't hate it all that much.
The start was difficult, like reopening up a freshly healed wound, like peeling off a scab, yet like all things, it got easier.
Words poured out of Venti like a stream of water rushing down a waterfall, like trapped birds finally freed of their cages, they soared high up in the sky, contempt with the final release of freedom.
He talked and talked. Of the boy whom he loved, the boy who saved him and the first pang of heart-wrenching pain that he later learned to be sadness. He told of the physical form he assumed, the desperate act of yearning just to feel closer to his dear friend.
Of how even as days and nights passed, the sight of his death remained, freshly tattooed in his mind, like a nasty wine stain one could not rid off.
Venti continued to talk, and Xiao continued to listen. He didn’t say much, there were no comforting words nor futile promises. Yet that was all Venti needed; someone who listened, someone who could hear him.
—
The sun was setting over the skyline of Mondstadt, two figures sat atop Starsnatcher Cliff, their silhouettes illuminated by the warm fracturing light.
A god and an adeptus, or simply, two lonely souls aching to be found.