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He can smell the rain before he even sees it fall.
It was late afternoon and the smell of wet earth dominated his senses, just as the icy wind made the leaves of the tree near the window rustle Zhongli knows, he feels it. There’s a storm coming and darkening Liyue's sky, perhaps this is the way that nature has found to clean the nation from the latest events. Perhaps this is the way the earth says it forgives him for his last deed as it’s archon.
Or so he hopes.
It didn't take long for the first drops of rain to hit his window like someone asking for permission to enter the room and, for a few minutes, Zhongli considers opening the window and wetting the carpet. He would wash all his conflicted feelings that way, even the ones Zhongli religiously pretended not to have. Truth be told, feelings were not his specialty, especially when he was not sure how to name or describe them. Deep inside of him, Zhongli could still remember Guizhong’s kind laughter as she looked at him ㅡ “These emotions are yours to decipher and, one day, I hope you learn how to live in peace with them” she said with eyes as gentle as the first snow. Yet Guizhong is gone and there’s no one around to be kind anymore.
Sighing, he closes the book he was reading moments ago, just another distraction to pass the time while Zhongli decides what he wants to do with his new life.
Learning about humans was strange.
He couldn’t quite place all those new feelings and sensations at all, and truth be told: Guizhong was right to be so delighted studying them. It was fascinating to observe the way humans lived day by day creating new meanings for their own existence, something that would give meaning to the life they led. Zhongli couldn’t help but question if someday he’d be able to do the same without feeling that strange ache in his heart, after all, he wasn’t an archon but neither a human. He was something in between. A being of such ancient existence that, at times, he wondered how he was able to remember all the moments of his six thousand years of life.
Remembering, however, was both a blessing and a curse. If Zhongli closed his eyes he would be able to taste the blood from the Archon War, all the lives that were lost gripping his arms and legs like ghosts he couldn’t quite forget. Somewhere deep inside of his heart he wished he did though. There is only so much someone can remember before going insane, and six thousand years is too much sometimes, after a while, the weight of all losses becomes unbearable. The knowledge that, little by little, everyone leaves and he continues to walk this land alone.
The rain still falls outside and, for a moment, Zhongli asks himself if loneliness is all that’s left for him. There’s no one to remember the songs of one thousand of years ago ㅡ not anymore ㅡ, therefore Zhongli was destined to search on his own for a new meaning, a new way to live from now on.
He was lost in thoughts when the window suddenly opened with a bang, a strong wind blew the thin curtains and brought the rain into the room. From his armchair, Zhongli felt the raindrops splash on his face, and when he prepared to get up and close the window, he saw that a young man was sitting there.
“There’s a door downstairs, it’s safer to use” Zhongli tells him and watches as the other smiles.
“I wanted to surprise you” He answers as soon as a lighting strikes.
Zhongli manages to notice that apart from a few drops on the other's hair, he is practically dry (unlike the ground where it was already possible to observe a puddle), and the smile the young man was wearing was a mix of playful and curious. The face was young and unmarked by the time, yet Zhongli could see those aqua eyes held much more than human years could.
“You’re wetting the carpet, please, get inside and close the window”
The young man did as he was told and Zhongli noticed he was holding a bottle of wine. A small smile formed on his face before he could help it, the memories of years ago when everyone else was alive and together appearing like flashes in his mind. How many times had he not wanted to taste Mondstadt wine again? It was not for lack of opportunity that he had not drank it again, but because drinking alone would make it all become real. The loneliness of the past few years, as well as his tireless work of managing Liyue's needs, would therefore be something concrete and beyond his control.
Yet, here he was.
Watching as this young man who wasn’t really young at all walked around the room towards his cabinet, probably looking for glasses so they could drink together.
“I heard Rex Lapis is dead” He says and it’s almost playful “It was quite a shock when the winds brought me the conversations and news from Liyue”
“It was a little sudden, the Rite of Parting was last week” Zhongli replies while the other makes his way to him holding two glasses and the bottle of wine “You should’ve come”
He doesn’t reply, offering the glass to Zhongli instead. They were silent as the glasses were filled with wine, the scent of dandelions subtly filling the room, and Zhongli couldn’t help but look into those eyes which were studying his face attentively. There were many memories of moments like that in his mind, where that same young face and attentive gaze looked back at him. He could probably describe each one of those meetings with his eyes closed, ghosts from his past self guiding his way through the memoirs and filling his heart with something that Zhongli wasn’t ready to name.
“So, to Rex Lapis death” The man says as if he was offering a toast “May he find peace in his rest”
Zhongli can’t hold his laughter this time and as they toast his own death, he can see there’s a glint of fun in the other’s eyes.
“Will Barbatos miss him?”
The words left his mouth as if they were a kind of hopeful prayer and, for a moment, there’s gentleness in the young man’s eyes that reminds Zhongli of Guizhong. So, to prevent himself from diving deeper into that thought, he looks away.
“I'm sure he will” The other replies, drinking his wine lost in thought. When Zhongli looks again at him, he says: “Venti, on the other hand, really wants to know more about you”
“Venti? Is this how you call yourself these days?”
The one that the people of Mondstadt prayed and called by the name of Barbatos, and who, even without imposing his presence, continued to be admired by his people in providing them with what they considered most valuable: freedom. It’s been years since the last time they met, yet Zhongli was not sure how to deal with the confused feeling inside him when he looked at his old friend, the longing that so often squeezed his chest was now lost in the relief of having a company. Relief from not being alone anymore.
Zhongli drank his wine and savored the taste of dandelion, and as he did, his mind wandered to another time. When he closed his eyes, he was no longer in a room with the rain hitting the window, but reunited with the original Seven sharing a wine similar to this one. Barbatos was playing a song on his harp, and when their eyes met, Zhongli knew that someone would be at his side just as Guizhong once was.
“Oh, I didn't introduce myself” The other tells him, waking him from the dream “My name is Venti, a simple bard from Mondstadt”
“Is invading other people's homes without introducing yourself a tradition, Venti?”
Venti laughs and falls in the armchair beside him, glass of wine intact even though the way he sat was not delicate.
“You told me to come in”
“I did” Zhongli answers, a smile curving his lips “Still I see that you remain the same as you did many years ago”
“It’s good to have someone to remember, isn’t it?”
The question was asked without the slightest malice, however, there was a kind of silent understanding between them at that moment that there would be between no one else. No one but Barbatos ㅡ Venti ㅡ would be able to fully understand the extent of loneliness that Zhongli felt, the feeling that the end of the day would come again and perhaps take one more dear person away with it.
It was the knowledge that the days and years had deadly meaning for everyone but them.
“How does someone decide that it is their time to die?” Venti asks him, pouring more wine in their glasses.
Zhongli thinks for a minute, munching on the question until the right words come to his mind. How had he decided? There was no preparation and much less impulse just... Just the feeling that the time had come. When Zhongli was strolling about Liyue Harbor and overheard that merchant saying that it was time to ‘call it a day’, he couldn’t help but question himself when it would be his time to do the same. How much should a god work for their nation? The question didn't leave his mind for days until Zhongli realized that his obligations would be eternal, the bonds that bound him to Liyue would only tie him up for the rest of his years until another archon took over his role.
Still there was good life in Liyue and people ㅡ humans ㅡ were changing the fate of their nation each day.
So could he call it a day? Call it a lifetime?
“Nobody decides when to die” He answers instead, looking at Venti with a small smile “But one should decide when it’s time to learn how to live”
Zhongli coughed awkwardly, his own sincerity scaring him. It wasn’t like this was news to him, but it was the first time he was sharing this thought with someone else. Furthermore someone who was able to understand the weight of his duties.
He could see Venti silently looking at him, would he too feel this way? After all, they were different in every way. While Zhongli had maintained his presence for years in the lives of the citizens of Liyue, Venti left the people of Mondstadt to decide for themselves which paths to take. He was tied up in contracts that did not stipulate his freedom, unlike the other, Zhongli did not know how to live without both feet on the ground.
“There’s nothing wrong with that”
Venti’s answer is soft and his voice is just like an old melody that makes Zhongli feel warm, as if they aren’t in the middle of a rainy day. When their eyes meet, he senses the kindness missing in his life since the last time they saw each other and his heart starts beating in a rhythm that matches Venti’s voice.
“There’s nothing wrong with you” He says and Zhongli feels like he could cry for the first time in years, emotions he wasn't sure how to name dominating his body. Carefully, Venti caressed his face with his free hand “You did well”
And maybe that was all he needed to hear all along.
After all the losses and the years Zhongli spent trying to guide Guizhong’s nation ㅡ his nation ㅡ without thinking about himself once, all he wanted wasn’t shrines or whole parties dedicated to him. The thing Zhongli yearned the most was the simple recognition of his work and perhaps someone to hug him while saying those exactly same words.
He closes his eyes feeling the warmth of the hand on his face. It's been so long since the last time someone took care of him, so long since Zhongli let someone see under the sash that hid his insides so well. But then Venti arrives like the wind that shakes the leaf of the trees outside and messes with all the farce he had built, as if he could see Zhongli behind it all and touch his soul with a single word.
The silence feels comfortable and the minutes lose their meaning when Zhongli opens his eyes, meeting affection and something else. Something that makes his insides twist and long for the other's touch as if his soul was starving for it.
His wine was forgotten in the small table beside the armchair, but little did it matter when Zhongli felt intoxicated just by looking at Venti. He could see in those aqua eyes a mirror and a way to remember all those memories that were lost somewhere, a mix between everything he yearned for and emotions he didn’t even know yet. Somehow when Venti touched him, he also touched Zhongli’s deepest secrets and opened the Pandora's box living inside his chest.
“Let me play a song for you, Zhongli” Venti says and it’s not really a question, but Zhongli nods anyway. He wants him to know that it is something that he wants, that it is something that will bring him happiness.
Venti just smiles and gets up, walking towards the window through which he entered and leaning on it. Outside it was still raining, the dark sky occasionally lit up with the force of lightning while the drops of rain went against the window creating a melody of its own. Still Venti positioned himself like he was in front of a sunny day, smiling gently and closing his eyes as his fingers played the first notes of a song.
Zhongli couldn’t help but stare at the sight in front of him. The harp in Venti's hands glowed faintly while his nimble fingers played with it, meanwhile only the light from outside illuminated the room and drew the silhouette of the bard. Unconsciously Zhongli held his breath at the sight, his heart squeezed inside his chest trying to keep up with the notes of the song.
“So beautiful” He murmured to himself, unable to keep the words hidden between his teeth.
The music that Venti was playing was as familiar to him as every mountain and road in Liyue, and maybe that's why Zhongli can feel his eyes filling with tears that he barely knew he could produce. The tranquility of the moment combined with the memories of the old song brought calm to his heart, perhaps it was simple moments like this that made humans care so much, giving their lives so much meaning that death wouldn’t even cross their minds.
Perhaps this was something more.
Something that once Guizhong tried to explain to him but couldn’t find the right words, so she left him a puzzle to decipher. A secret so well forged that Zhongli was still unable to unravel even after all these years, yet part of him felt like it all could be possible besides the man who was playing that song to him.
The one who travelled across the rain just so they could drink wine together because ㅡ and that he would never say out loud ㅡ somehow he knew that Zhongli would want company, that after faking his own death there would be no one left to talk about the past. And even though Venti never actually said his intentions out loud, the meaning of each gesture was clear to Zhongli, who was watching him in delight.
As Venti played the last notes of his song, Zhongli realized a few things about his new life. First one is that freedom is so much more than a concept, but at the same time it could be anything for those who never had it. ‘Freedom’ could be enjoying a late night talk with those who were important, trusting in their kindness to embrace your soul and give it the peace it needed.
The second thing is a feeling.
Something he heard before and saw it happening time and time again, even when Zhongli himself couldn’t quite understand it. A feeling that spread through his body as quickly as the wind brought the cold, and that at the same time made him feel smaller and more lost than he had been before. A feeling that made him realize that it would be possible to learn to live as long as Venti was at his side.
When the song ended and Venti opened his eyes again, Zhongli clapped his hands. Somehow the notes played moments before still seemed to resonate through the room, invading Zhongli's home and life without asking for permission just as its owner had done moments before. The thought made him smile and his chest warm, maybe it wouldn't be such a lonely life if he could hear the bard playing more often.
“What do you think? Is there any possibility for you to want to know me?” Venti asks him, smiling mischievously as if he already knows everything.
This time, Zhongli gets up and walks towards Venti and it is his turn to touch his face with affection, feeling the contact of his hand with the soft skin of the one who made him understand parts of himself that even he did not understand. Zhongli couldn't help thinking that there was beauty in that act, as well as reciprocity and a chance ㅡ one that he wouldn’t give up.
He watches as Venti stares at him for a moment before closing his eyes and, with gentleness, covers Zhongli’s hand with his. There is enough intimacy for the silent communication between them to take place in the seconds they stand in front of the window with only the sound of rain outside, however Zhongli feels he needs to say what he thinks out loud. And this time, he hopes it will be enough. He hopes that the new life that awaits him will be one where he can understand all the things he did not achieve when Guizhong was alive, or even hear the words that were never spoken to him.
“Always”
And at that moment, Zhongli was sure he could hear the wind laugh.