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Xiao is especially tired today. He’s tired every day, but the drag of his footsteps and the slouch of his shoulders give him away. Most people wouldn’t notice, not with the way Xiao moves like a soldier always at attention.
Venti notices. The best poems draw from life’s small sorrows and smaller joys, after all.
He offers Xiao a drink, just as he usually does. Sometimes, good drinks (that he hardly touches) and good company (that he mostly listens to) are all he needs to unwind.
Sometimes, he refuses Venti’s offer in favor of rest. They both know he’ll get none if Venti follows him back to his room. Venti used to protest, insisting that just one drink or just one song would help him sleep. He’s grown since those days, and when Xiao refuses this time, Venti lets him pass with little more than a softly spoken well wish.
There’s always tomorrow to look forward to. The prospects of a fairer fight and a sweeter wine.
*
Xiao once told him that a demon lurked in the shadow of his every movement. Venti, still imbued with his Gnosis and reeling from D’valin’s fight on Dragonspine, asked if there was a way to exorcize it.
Xiao shook his head. “To lose that demon would mean losing myself.”
“Well we can’t have that,” Venti had tutted. “Maybe we could split it from you?”
Chop! Venti mimicked the motion of a knife slicing an apple in two with his hand. A ghost of a smile flashed across Xiao’s face, but he shook his head again. “It’s too late for that.”
“Ah. A shame,” Venti had said. “But do not lose hope yet, Conqueror of Demons. I’ve never seen a storm that didn’t pass!”
Venti remembers the rest of the night being sweet. He doesn’t remember Xiao ever mentioning that demon again.
He doesn’t have to ask if it remains tied to him. The answer is obvious.
*
They don’t always meet at night. Evil doesn’t sleep except when it is vanquished, and the same goes for Xiao.
Today, they meet in the afternoon. Day by day, the sun slows its descent past the horizon. There’s more than enough light to cast Xiao in a lovely glow.
“I…” Xiao begins, hesitating as his eyes flick just to the left of Venti. Not altogether unusual for Xiao to do. He either tries to sear Venti’s eyes out with his gaze or he can’t bear to look at him. Venti finds it endearing.
“You?” Venti asks.
“Stop,” Xiao says with a frown.
“Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist,” Venti says, giggling. “You were saying?”
“I…” Xiao swallows something — his spit, or more likely, his pride — “I am glad you’re here. This time of year is always the most painful. Your presence makes it easier.”
Venti leans into his shoulder. He wonders if anyone else besides him knows just how warm Xiao really is. He’s a hearth in a winter home. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
*
Lantern Rite is fast approaching this year. Just a few more weeks and Liyue will be aglow with the festivities once more. It’s a beautiful sight. Venti can see the glow of Xiao lanterns from Mondstadt. He imagines Sumeru must be the same way — he can picture Buer from her little sanctuary, face pressed to the door and eyes lit with wonder.
It’s been many centuries since he’s experienced the festivities himself. He’s long overdue. He’d love to see the lanterns with his own eyes.
He wants to light two Xiao lanterns this year. One for the Traveler, to illuminate the darkness she may find on her next travels, and one for the yaksha beside him now.
“What will you wish for this year?” Venti asks.
“I’m far too busy to make a lantern,” Xiao says.
“Oh, don’t worry about that! I’d be happy to make you one. Now tell me, noble adeptus. What will you wish for?”
Xiao tries to speak, but Venti adds a detail he had forgotten. “You can’t wish for Liyue’s prosperity! Or my prosperity. Or Zhongli’s. I want to hear what your heart desires.”
Xiao frowns. He’s so easy to read. Of course he was going to wish for Liyue’s prosperity.
“I don’t want to say it,” Xiao says.
“So you do have a wish! Why won’t you tell me? I won’t judge you.”
Venti leans into his personal space. Xiao draws away. That isn’t a good sign. “Maybe later,” Xiao says.
Venti pulls away. “I’ll wait with bated breath.”
Xiao takes his hand in a quiet thanks. The silence blankets them both, and its song is so sweet.
*
They met centuries ago. The years have changed Teyvat, and Xiao along with it. He was brighter, once. Less chained down by karmic debt. Venti had asked about his friends, and he spoke of four beloved companions.
Venti slept for many years, and in those years, Xiao lost almost everything. When they met again, Xiao was more brittle than Venti could ever remember him being. A gentle caress upon his cheek threatened to shatter him.
They fought. Venti doesn’t like to dwell on those arguments.
Xiao has always had scars, both on his body and on his soul. The plight of the yaksha did not create many of them. Xiao only spoke of the distant past once, after Venti spoke of the first friend he ever lost. He will never be as soft as he once was — never will he be the innocent fledgling whose wings were clipped, nor will he be the youthful creature who sought shelter in his family of warriors — but he is softer than he used to be.
He’s seen the letters on Xiao’s desk. From Madame Ping, Ganyu, Yanfei, Zhongli. Shinobu and Keqing too. He even spotted a half-finished reply once.
The Lantern Rite will bring the Traveler back to Liyue’s shores. Venti will thank her then. Befriending Xiao is no easy task. Encouraging him to bond with others is even harder.
Venti is grateful. Xiao deserves to be surrounded by love.
*
They meet again, under the roof of Wangshu Inn. The moon greets them like a long-lost lover. Xiao is stunning under the starlight.
Venti holds out a glass to him. “I’ve heard the rice wine tonight is particularly sweet. Care to share a drink with me?”
Xiao is tired today. His feet drag and his shoulders slouch. This soldier must stay on standby until further notice.
Xiao stops in front of Venti. He takes the glass from Venti’s outstretched hand. Peers into the empty bottom of the porcelain. “Did you start drinking without me?”
Venti gasps. “I would never!”
“You would. You have. Multiple times.”
Venti giggles. He swings his legs back and forth, child-like delight fluttering in his heart. “I haven’t tonight.”
“I’ll set up the table,” Xiao says.
Venti hops to his feet. “And I’ll get the jar from downstairs! I’ll be back before you know it!”
Their night is filled with sweet wine and sweeter love songs. Venti holds Xiao close, and Xiao relaxes into his embrace.
Like this, tomorrow seems so hopeful.
for every day, a darker night—
and a brighter dawn.