For a brief moment, Bronya felt an urge to abandon everything and witness the world that Venti spoke of.
But as her gaze touched the colored lights hanging around them and the empty houses below the town…
The responsibility in her heart outweighed all else. Her impulsive thoughts faded as quickly as they had appeared. She knew that if she asked, Venti would never refuse her.
But if she did that… wouldn’t it make his efforts a wasted trip?
Though there was a lingering regret in her heart, she smiled softly, untying her headscarf and letting her silvery hair cascade in spirals.
“—Hah. As I thought, this feels much better.”
She spoke with an oddly evasive tone.
Venti tilted his head, a hint of surprise crossing his face.
“Oh dear, have I just been rejected by the same person twice?”
It was as if a carefree bard had invited a girl weighed down by duty on a date, only to be turned down again. Yet the playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable.
But Bronya wasn’t annoyed; she returned his smile with equal warmth.
“Can I take that as your wish, Venti?”
If I could grant it, would you stay here for me?
Even though she knew the poet would never settle down because of her, she couldn’t help but indulge in a little playful mischief.
Venti crossed his arms, pretending to ponder.
“Hm… I’d love to say yes, but if it were granted this time, I’d just start wishing again tomorrow, and the day after that, too.”
Amused by his own musings, he let out a hearty laugh.
“Even I would feel guilty asking for that much!”
“Oh, that’s not fair… I even shared my own wish with you.”
Bronya replied with a touch of mock grievance.
What followed was a calm, almost blissful silence.
Both of them took the time to sort through their thoughts and reflect on the journey they’d shared, waiting for the other to be the first to say goodbye.
Then, unexpectedly, a small yawn sounded, causing Bronya to turn around in surprise, as if startled out of her thoughts.
Standing behind her was a small child—no, not just one, for when she looked closer, she saw that the area had quietly filled with children.
Their forms weren’t quite solid; instead, they seemed ghostly, their eyes wide and filled with hopeful anticipation.
The boy who’d yawned was now being pinched on the cheeks by a girl beside him, stammering in protest.
“Ahh! The poet brother spotted us! Everyone, run!”
The children scattered in all directions, and even the girl was half-dragging the boy as they fled.
They ran through the playground equipment and vanished silently around the corner—
“They…”
Bronya blinked in confusion, wondering if she’d imagined it.
But a moment later, several little heads poked out from the other side, their eyes shining with excitement as they watched her.
It was as if they didn’t want to miss this rare scene.
Noticing Venti’s sheepish expression, along with the decorations she’d observed on their way, she suddenly spoke up.
“Did you bring everyone back here?”
“Eh?”
The wind-colored poet tried to play dumb.
But the next second, he found himself enveloped in a soft hug, followed by a chorus of cheers from the children.
“—Thank you, Venti.”
She whispered into his ear.
Her breath, like the softest feather grazing his ear, made him feel a little embarrassed.
Realizing he couldn’t keep up the charade, Venti sighed and admitted,
“Sorry. I saw them wandering in the town, lost… so I thought at the very least, I’d bring them home.”
“No, there’s no need to apologize. If anything, we should thank you…”
Bronya wasn’t easily fooled. She had thought the lights Venti arranged were just for atmosphere, but she hadn’t considered he was hiding so many secrets—
That’s why the emotions swirling within her led her to act in a way that felt out of character.
But… it made her feel so happy. Truly, so very happy.
These abandoned children had someone so kind and gentle to guide them home.
—
After that, Bronya shared all her thoughts with the poet.
The things she hoped to achieve in the future, the answers she had come to on her own… and all the countless words she’d wanted to say.
Until, as fatigue crept over her, the girl who had traveled so far without rest finally allowed herself to lean against the poet’s shoulder, drifting into sleep.
Venti stayed still, tilting slightly to make her more comfortable.
Then, he raised his finger to his lips in a “shush” gesture toward the hazy, rippling boundary between reality and dream.
Once she was sound asleep, he exhaled deeply and turned to a slightly annoyed Seele.
Knowing he couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer, he offered, “So… would you like a lap pillow? I haven’t tried it myself, but it’s probably better than the stone ground.”
“Hmph. Cut the pretense. I’m not some pampered upper-world lady. My record is seven nights without a wink of sleep.”
Seele stuck her tongue out at him defiantly.
But seeing that he didn’t retort and simply looked at her with gentle eyes, she eventually grew flustered and, a bit begrudgingly, sat down beside him, muttering,
“Tell me… what’s so special about her that you’d go this far?”
“Well, haven’t you already made up your mind about her, Seele?”
Venti didn’t believe Seele’s presence here was a coincidence. It was clear she’d circled around and followed them, unable to leave Bronya behind, despite her own stubborn pride.
This display of tsundere-like behavior couldn’t have fit Seele more perfectly.
At his words, Seele huffed, crossing her arms.
“Hmph. I’m not like you, always coddling her… if you ask me, you should’ve yelled some sense into her ages ago. Would’ve saved us from all this wallowing.”
“True enough. I owe you one for that, Seele.”
Truthfully, Seele had provided him with quite a bit of support on this trip, saving it from becoming much duller.
Seele simply snorted proudly, accepting his praise without hesitation.
“That’s right. You can always count on me—”
“After all, we’re partners, set to let the winds blow away this stagnant season, aren’t we?”
“Excuse me! We’re the Wildfire, here to burn down the Rift’s monsters and the injustices of the upper world!” Seele interjected, correcting him at once.
“Alright, alright. Though I don’t quite match the Wildfire color scheme, if you say so, Seele, I won’t argue.”
Venti didn’t mind letting her take charge, but Seele was hardly ordinary.
After scrutinizing him for a moment, she seemed satisfied and promptly lay down, resting her head comfortably on his lap.
“Huh…?”
“—Not a word. Let me nap.”
Obliging, Venti nodded and remained silent, leaning back slightly to let the breeze caress his face.
It seemed, perhaps, that the poet’s work could finally take a rest.
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