TWENTY SEVEN
THERE WAS A stark difference in the room she slept in the night before compared to the one she awoke in. For one, it was as clean as it could be. With hand me down furniture hugging the walls, and things she had acquired overtime placed organized where fit. But now these same things lay strewn about, a few tossed onto her bed. The drawers of her dresser were opened, clothes disrupted from the previously neat fold.
(Y/n) rummaged around, looking for the necklace she had found with Razor. The young woman could've sworn she left it securely resting along with her other things, but this morning proved her wrong.
"...Where is it? Where is it?" She mumbled to herself.
An hour earlier she had coincidentally loomed over the top drawer, noticing the crack that jarred it. The only person who frequented the house other than herself was...
"Venti!" His name echoed in the empty halls.
The bard perked up when he heard (Y/n)'s voice. He'd never known she could be so loud.
He sat upon a wooden beam attached to the cottage ceiling, his gaze cascading down below as he watched the woman rush into the room.
Venti held a hand against his mouth to project his voice. "You looking for me?" He called from above.
(Y/n) wasted no time snapping her attention upward. Her eyes slightly widened. "Venti, get down from there," She sounded rather concerned.
"I'll be fine!" He shook it off. "Though, I couldn't help but wonder why my name loudly escaped your lips earlier."
"There was a necklace in the top drawer of my bedroom," She began. "It's gone now. And the only person who goes snooping around is you."
Venti stared blankly at her. Seemingly pulling an object from nowhere, he spoke. "You mean this necklace?" He held it up for her to see.
"So it was you?" She asked, though she sounded rather relieved.
Venti raised it closer towards his face. "...It looks familiar," He stared at it with a curious wonder.
"Come down from there," (Y/n) stood below him. "I can't believe you sometimes." She continued to ramble on.
All the while the woman scolded him, the bard eyed the necklace delicately. He hummed to himself, not paying any attention to (Y/n) when she tried to jump and catch the end of his cape with the ends of her fingertips.
"Venti, you'll get hurt," She tried telling him. But her warnings didn't seem to matter anymore as his figure turned to fragments of wind. It rushed by her, reforming into his body onto a stool nearby.
Venti was hunched over, his eyes meticulously studying the object as if he were entranced by it.
He could hear a somber tune as the necklace gently swung in his fingertips. And then, an instant envision of white flowers filled his sight sprouting in the core of his head. He felt a surge of cold rise from his feet, listening as the clear sounds of water reached his ears.
And when the flowers fell from view, he found himself staring at a figure who peered down at him. Their faces were so close, he could see every pattern of his golden-flecked eyes.
Venti glanced down, realizing the necklace he held in hand was strewn over his neck. So he let go in fear he was choking the stranger, at the same time ending this foreign vision.
The necklace fell from his grasp as if he'd just been stung by it. And his hand retreated against his other, gently rubbing the skin where contact had been made.
It fell onto the floor from a small distance. (Y/n) stared at it, and then she glanced over towards Venti.
"...What happened?" She asked him.
The bard rubbed his head with a few fingertips, his hat slightly slipping to the side. "...Take good care of it," He muttered through a groan. "It must mean a lot to whoever it belongs."
(Y/n) knelt down in front of him, her hands gently pressed to both his cheeks. When her skin touched his face, he froze.
"Forget the necklace," She said. "I'm asking you if you're okay?"
Venti stared wide eyed at her. And upon meeting her (e/c) eyes, he felt his perspective shift lens.
Suddenly, the raindrops no longer clung to the leaves of the vast branches. The gentle wind shook them from their hold, taking their nourishment elsewhere. It carried with them a tune that reached his ears, unfolding right before him in a form he'd never seen.
"Tell me, do you know how to play any instruments?" He asked seemingly out of the random.
"...Instruments?" She repeated. "...What are you taking about?" The conversation took a sharp tangent.
"Just answer it," His tone wasn't indicative of any rudeness.
(Y/n) reluctantly agreed. "No. My mother wouldn't let me get near any unless it was a piano."
"That's stupid," He laughed.
(Y/n) stayed quiet with a "I know" expression to her face.
"Songs are made for everyone," He said. "Tunes we can go back to and remember the feel so we don't forget as time goes by."
(Y/n) raised a brow. "Well, what do you mean by that?" She asked.
Venti chuckled. "I'm saying songs are where we attach our memories and emotions," He explained. "We go back to them so we won't forget to remember what those feel like again. For better or for worse."
Her mouth was slightly agape. "...I get it now, She said.
Venti glanced up into her eyes. "Hey, why don't I teach you a few?"
"A few songs?" She repeated.
The bard gently placed the lyre in her grasp. "Yeah, why not?" His smile grew wider. "Just watch."
His hands moved to hold the lyre that formed in his lap. It was light, from what she could tell. His fingers moved with ease against the strings, pulling each one rhythmically.
"By the way, are you close to Aether?" He asked.
(Y/n) gave him a funny look. "What's with all the odd questions?" She raised a brow.
Venti averted his gaze. "Well, since you are my disciple, wouldn't it be courtesy for us to get to know one another better?"
"I suppose you have the slightest point," She gave him the benefit of the doubt. "And to answer your question, I'd say we're good friends at the moment."
The bard nodded along to let her know he was listening. "Aether's usually on the road between the two neighboring nations," He explained. "You don't miss him?"
The young woman stayed silent for a brief moment.
"...He told me no matter where he goes, I'll never be alone," (Y/n) said. Then, she smiled. "And I believe him." She then turned to look at him. "I mean, look at me now. I'm with you, aren't I?"
He nodded his head in agreement. "That's true!"
(Y/n)'s gaze lingered over his hands.
"Hey," She called for his attention.
A few notes escaped the strings his fingertips pulled. "...Hm?" He hummed his response.
"I just wanted to let you know I'll be gone from home more often now," She said. "I got the chance to work with the knights. So I took it."
"That's great," His lips curved into a genuine smile. "Taking matters into your own hands. That's something to be proud of."
His fingers then returned to strumming the instrument. The two stayed silent for a bit, giving (Y/n) a moment to ponder back to what Dansleif had said.
Should she confront him about it? She thought as her hand rubbed the area where the strange mark was out of comfort.
But what if it wasn't because of him? There was only one way to find out.
"Venti," (Y/n) called for his attention one more time.
He lowered the lyre in hand. "Yes, my dear (Y/n)?"
The woman then raised her arm, her palm facing away from her. She used her other hand to point to the mark just below her wrist.
"What's this?"
TWENTY SEVEN