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In the fall of cherry blossoms, he looks out over still waters.
Beneath his palms, the wooden railing, painted in a glossy sheen of red, feels warm and firm, heated faintly from the sun. He steadies himself against it with a sigh, closing his eyes to take in the fresh scent of flowers and the sea.
Here in Inazuma, it feels like the sea is everywhere. Where the rolling meadows of Mondstadt invite gentle summer breezes, the tides here bring with it strong gusts at times, while remaining, at other times, silent and so strangely still. Cherry blossoms spin down around him in the windless afternoon, as he gives the railing a final pat, and then lets out another exaggerated sigh.
“My, oh my,” he says morosely. “It is a rare day indeed that old acquaintances may meet over such a lovely view.”
He turns around, chuckling faintly.
“Will you remain there forever, watching me from that tree,” he teases, “or will you come closer to say hello?”
Behind him, the Raiden Shogun steps forward, emerging expressionlessly from the shadow of a cherry blossom tree.
“It’s been many years since you’ve last stepped into Inazuma,” she says quietly.
“Nearly five hundred years,” Venti agrees, and crosses his arms, leaning back against the wooden railing. “So who am I talking to? Is this actually you, or am I speaking with the Shogun?”
The Raiden Shogun’s chest lifts with a sigh.
“It is me, Lord Barbatos,” she says tiredly. “I was persuaded by a mutual friend to see the Irodori festival in person, and am borrowing the Shogun’s body temporarily.”
“I see,” Venti says.
He unfolds his arms then, allowing a genuine smile to rise to his lips.
“It is good to see you again,” he says, more warmly this time. “There is no need for formalities between us. Call me Venti.”
At that, Raiden Ei’s expression finally seems to soften.
“So you are still using that name,” she muses, and then inclines her head gracefully. “I am glad to see that you’ve finally woken from your slumber, lord of the winds. For a time, I worried that another member of the original Seven had been lost.”
“Not lost,” Venti says, and winks. “Just napping.”
The beginnings of a playful smile lifts the corners of Ei’s lips.
“You did always love your naps,” she agrees, and Venti lets out a laugh.
“Oho!” he cries jovially. “So you’ve finally learnt to tease me back!”
That actually pulls a smile from Ei, so Venti offers a cheeky grin in return. After a moment of shared amusement, however, Venti can’t help but sober a little. His own laughter quietens, his grin slipping slowly away.
“I’m really sorry to hear about your sister,” he says softly.
The light that had been in Ei’s eyes seems to dim, any lingering traces of a smile fading from her lips.
“We all lost people in the Cataclysm,” she finally says, voice hollow.
Venti smiles bittersweetly at that.
“Some more than others,” he says gently.
Raiden Ei breathes out quietly, closing her eyes for a second, before reopening them with restored composure. She lifts her chin then, folding her hands together regally at her abdomen, and manages a more muted smile.
“Thank you,” she says, eyes gentle, if a little melancholic. She hesitates for a moment longer, before adding. “Makoto was always fond of you. The two of you got along much better than you and I ever did.”
“I have a bad habit,” Venti says, and grins. “I can never stop myself from poking sleeping dragons, especially when they wear such serious faces.”
“Is that how you got swatted off the top of Jueyun Karst?” Ei asks mildly.
“Hey!” Venti protests, laughing. “I did not deserve that. The god of rocks has absolutely no sense of humor.”
Ei lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Makoto didn’t stop laughing for a week,” she recalls fondly, her voice soft now, and a little sad.
After a moment, Venti smiles again, more seriously this time.
“What I meant to say,” he clarifies, “is that you should smile more.”
Raiden Ei’s eyes soften fully at that. She reaches out, touching his wrist briefly with the very tips of her fingers, before she withdraws her hand again, folding them back together at the navel.
“Is there a reason that you are arriving on our shores?” she finally asks, and then, with some concern, “Is Mondstadt in need of assistance?”
Venti chuckles.
“Didn’t Lady Guuji tell you?” he asks, a little teasingly. “I was invited to attend in a mortal capacity. I’m here to sing for the festival.”
Ei tilts her head slightly.
“Is that really all?” she asks with mild curiosity.
Venti blinks slowly at her, and then smiles.
“You’ve always been observant of others,” he grants, and sombers. “I’ve come to retrieve something that was lost here.”
Raiden Ei seems to consider that answer for a moment.
“If you require assistance,” she says carefully, “I will assign members of the Tenryou Commission to help you locate the misplaced item.”
Venti smiles.
“It’s alright,” he says. “I’ve already found what I’m looking for.”
For a long moment, Ei just looks at him searchingly. Venti does not know what she sees there, but after a time, she eventually straightens up completely.
“I understand,” she says, and offers a small nod. “The vantage point from Tenshukaku is unlike anywhere else in the city. I will leave you to enjoy the view, but I hope you will visit again soon.”
Venti grins jauntily, placing one hand on his hip.
“Don’t worry,” he teases, and winks. “I won’t vanish for another five hundred years.”
Ei just smiles.
“Take care, my friend,” she says softly.
Without a further word, she offers a quiet nod of farewell, then turns and walks, slowly and sedately, back into the building.
Once she is gone from the terrace, Venti finally allows his eyes to drift to the spot where Raiden Ei had first been standing, watching him from the shadow of the cherry blossom tree. Someone else is standing there now, leaning against the trunk with arms crossed.
The young woman stands unmasked, her hair loose in gentle waves. A windwheel aster is pinned behind her left ear, and she wears a simple white dress in the old Mondstadt style, laced together at the waist, with shoulders bare, and a hem that falls all the way to her feet. There’s a translucency to her form now, her body no longer quite in this world.
“Hello,” Venti says, “Rosalyne.”
Her shoulders raise with a quiet huff.
“So you do know my name,” she says, and raises an eyebrow, eyes cold as frost. “Am I the misplaced object then?”
When Venti does not answer, the corner of Signora’s lip curls, derisive.
“Our resident rodent god,” she drawls, pushing herself off the tree. “Finally emerged from hiding, I see, and to look for little old me? How quaint.”
As she takes a slow step forward, Venti just smiles sadly.
“I’ve come to take you home,” he says.
Signora raises an eyebrow, and scoffs.
“Home?” she repeats. “My home was lost five hundred years ago. It was burnt to the ground while the god who was supposed to protect it slept.”
Venti does not reply, and after a moment, Signora takes another slow step forward.
“Nothing to say?” she mocks. “Not going to defend yourself?”
He breathes in, but says nothing still.
“Defend yourself,” Signora commands.
In the silence that ensues, she finally uncrosses her arms. She makes a grab for his collar, violent and suddenly enraged, but her hands just pass right through him. She lets out a cry of frustration.
“Speak!” she spits furiously. “God damn you! Speak!”
Cherry blossoms spin quietly down into the grass. Distantly, there is the sound of wind chimes, clinking in the breeze. After a moment, however, the wind stops, and the wind chimes go silent once more.
Venti closes his eyes.
“I came too late,” he says softly.
Signora blinks once, before she tips her head back, and laughs. She laughs, and laughs, long and loud. But just as suddenly as it came, the laughter ends. She tips her head back down, and looks coldly at him.
“You have the gall,” she grits out, “to admit that.”
Then, she turns her face away, staring out towards the sea. After a moment, Venti breathes out quietly.
“You don’t belong here, Rosalyne,” he says lowly, and holds out a hand.
“Come with me,” he urges. “I'll take you home.”
“My home was with him,” she says shortly, and Venti quiets once more.
After a moment, Signora turns to look at him.
“You could have saved him,” she accuses.
“I could have,” Venti agrees.
Signora whirls sharply away from him.
"Hah," she says.
In the ensuing silence, Venti turns away as well, his gaze lifting up into the canopy instead. Through the leaves, quiet— through the flowers, still— the sun lilts down upon them in dappled gold.
“Rostam is waiting for you,” is what he finally says.
“Rostam is dead and gone,” she snaps.
“You don't belong here,” he repeats, and smiles sadly. “Not in this windless place.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“Fuck the wind,” Signora finally says, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. “And fuck you, Lord Barbatos. You’re a liar, and a cheat."
Venti just smiles.
“I am,” he agrees.
He closes his eyes, and after a moment, speaks again, more softly this time— “I’m sorry.”
Signora's jaw works.
She takes a few steps forward, and laughs. A moment later, she turns around, strides to the other side of the terrace, then puts her hand on the railing, and laughs again.
“He’s waiting for you,” Venti tells her once more.
“Curse you,” she says.
Venti just holds out a hand.
“Please,” he says, “won’t you let me bring you home?”
At first, Signora does not turn to face him. With one hand still on the wooden railing, she looks out over the glittering sea instead.
“Home,” she repeats bitterly. “Where is home?”
“The place where all children of the wind go,” Venti responds immediately. “Where he went, and where you’ll go.”
He holds his hand out again.
“Let me take you there,” he urges. “Let's go.”
“Curse you,” she spits, more ferociously this time.
“Come with me,” Venti urges, and lowers his eyes. "Let's go home, Rosalyne."
There is a long moment of silence. Petals drift quietly down around them, and in the glitter of the sun, the ocean has begun to ripple on the distant horizon, a breeze beginning to sweep down towards them from the open seas.
Finally, Signora turns to face him.
"I will never forgive you," she whispers fiercely. "Never."
Venti raises his gaze slowly to meet hers.
"I know," he says simply.
Above them, the leaves begin to rustle faintly. A breeze breathes gently through the trees, like a sigh suspended upon whispering leaves.
As cherry blossoms rain down upon them, Rosalyne finally raises her head, looking up into the falling petals. The dappled sunlight gleams faintly off the glazed-ice blue of her eyes as, for just a moment, a smile caresses the corners of her lips— tender, but bittersweet.
"We met on a day like this," she recalls suddenly, the frost in her gaze seeming to melt, momentarily, with the tender echoes of a distant memory. "We met under an oak tree, on a windy day in spring."
And amidst the fall of pale blossoms, she finally closes her eyes. Wind chimes tinkle faintly upon tiled eaves like birdsong, clinking gently as she steps forward, into the wind.
Glass bells clink gently overhead.
In an instant, she is gone.
Where she once stood, the last vestiges of a strange wind kick up a gentle whirlwind of leaves. The fallen blossoms lift up off the grass, tumbling over one another for a brief moment, before floating slowly back down to the ground.
As the gust settles, Venti lifts his face into the breeze.
"Ah," he muses, "it is a lovely day."
He breathes in the scent of flowers, of sea; distant on the horizon, with the wind sweeping down over it. A smile breaks gently upon his lips in that moment, and he sighs with it, closing his eyes.
"A lovely, windy day," he breathes.