Chapter Text
Years pass. Venti grows... older.
It is odd, Venti finds, to grow as humans do.
It is wonderful to see how his hair grows. To experience his fingernails lengthen. To find his clothes no longer fitting him, his shoes becoming stiff and tight.
It is also a type of heartbreak Venti is unused to. Perhaps, in a strange, sad sort of way, he can finally see his dear friend grow older too. To eventually see gray hairs and wrinkled hands. To see crow's feet settle on an ever youthful face. To see what could have been, instead of seeing a symbol of revolution forever unchanging.
To be remembered instead of forgotten.
He hopes to see that distant future come to him, as heartbreaking as it is.
Nezu never really finds other tutors for him, content to teach Venti on his own despite being ridiculously busy. Maybe a bit protective of Venti, too. His many secretaries are thankful for Venti, however, since Nezu in charge means meticulous perfectionism. With Nezu spending a bulk of his time with Venti, his perfectionism tapered off into something more doable yet still exceeding expectations.
The usual when it comes to Nezu, really.
Venti does force his way into becoming part of the 'many secretaries' Nezu has. Partly to pester Nezu, mostly to spend time with other people.
Nezu is his parent. Dr. Ao is a doctor at a busy police station. Toshinori is as busy as Naomasa. He would become even busier with Nezu planning something regarding him, finally coming to a head after years of Nezu wearing Toshinori down. Venti is not part of any of it, nor does he want to be part of it.
It is not his business, even if Nezu would not mind it becoming Venti's business. It's the principle of it.
U.A. staff, however, is practically free rein.
It just means he is the glorified errand boy of whoever unlucky secretary he chooses, in the end. Miss Watanabe is a favorite, since she is severe enough to take Venti seriously yet has enough humor to know that it really isn't that serious.
She is very good at keeping up with Venti's many eccentricities, remaining unfazed most of the time.
She is also a great gift-giver.
"Good morning, Miss Watanabe!" Venti greets her on her way to Nezu's office, cheer abundant despite the early morning.
"Good morning, young master."
"Eh," Venti draws out, offended, and keeps his pace to match hers, "how many times do I have to tell you to call me Venti?"
"As many times as you wish," Miss Watanabe placidly replies, her crow's feet becoming more pronounced when she smiles, "you will still remain as young master."
"Even if I bribe you? Completely legal, of course - HR approved even!"
"Even if you bribe me legally with Ma'am Suzuki's approval."
"Even if I'm no longer young and adorable?"
"Even so."
"Even if I tell Nezu to tell you to call me Venti?"
"Especially then."
Venti grins at her, not deterred by the slightest. "It was worth a shot!"
Miss Watanabe laughs, her sharp features softening into something fond. They stop in front of Nezu's office, the click of her heels echoing in the hallway. "Ready for the day?"
Venti salutes, holding a clipboard close to his chest. "Yes, ma'am!"
"That energy of yours still continues to surprise me, young master,” she says, unsurprised. “Now, for today we have -"
"Ah, there you are, pup," Nezu cheerfully interrupts.
If Miss Watanabe is startled by his sudden appearance, it isn't obvious. Her only tell is her widened dark eyes which are quick to return to their usual, half-lidded gaze.
Venti, on the other hand, is very used to Nezu suddenly popping up. He swears there are actual tunnels running through the entirety of U.A. just for Nezu; he just can't prove it yet.
"Good morning, Principal Nezu."
"Good morning, Nezu!"
"Forgive me for taking Venti from you," Nezu nods his head towards Miss Watanabe. He turns to Venti. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
He isn't. But Nezu does not need to know that he is actively avoiding it.
"Nope!"
Nezu only narrows his beady eyes at him.
Venti hands Miss Watanabe his clipboard, keeping eye contact with Nezu, and bows to her, still keeping eye contact. "I'll help you some other time, Miss Watanabe. I'm sure you and Nezu have a lot to do. Bye!" he then turns tail and scurries away.
Venti can only hear Nezu’s sigh as he turns a corner and walks as quickly as he can without running.
Maybe Lunch Rush needs his help instead?
The kitchen is in organized chaos when he arrives. It is, after all, the start of a weekday.
Written in a neat but blocky script in multiple colorful sticky notes haphazardly placed on the stainless steel shelves of a well-stocked commercial kitchen is as follows:
'Look up more vegetarian recipes, as well as gluten-free recipes.'
'Apple cider. Pork chops with baked apples. Braised chicken thighs and apples. Apple bread. Chicken and apple salad.'
'Smoked chicken. Sticky honey roast. European beef stew.'
'Golden Delicious apples have an exceptionally rich, even custardy taste; look up recipes for this type.'
'Find an actual good substitute for egg whites in a meringue.'
'Sato, if you're reading this, paprika and cayenne pepper are different spices and should not be used as a substitute for each other.'
And many other little notes scattered all over. Venti finds it charming to find these notes amidst all the chaos.
Lunch Rush is in his element, dicing vegetables at an impressive speed. Other kitchen staff are bustling around. Venti had already donned a hairnet and a spare apron but before Venti could even talk to Lunch Rush, he finds himself stopped by a paw holding the back of his collar.
Which is an impressive feat, considering Venti now towers over Nezu. That isn't to say that Venti is tall, but he is tall in comparison to Nezu.
Venti finds himself still short in comparison to people his age. This, he's sure, will never change.
Venti bends towards Nezu to make it easier. He can't help but think of Andrius and how he'd impose air jail time on misbehaving pups by scruffing them.
"Pup."
Nezu even sounds as serious as Andrius did, too.
"Do I have to?" Venti whines.
And Venti sounds like a misbehaving pup in forced air jail time.
Nezu lets go of his collar to pat him on the back. "Not immediately, no, but I do need an answer soon. Why are you so evasive about this?"
Venti sighs. He turns to Nezu as he straightens. "Alright, I promise," he says instead, completely ignoring the question.
Nezu looks at him for a beat. "I'll talk to you soon, then," he says. "You're free to bother Lunch Rush now."
“It's not bothering,” Venti defends, “I'm helping.”
“So you say.”
“I am!” he exclaims with a laugh. Venti bends to nuzzle his head to Nezu's. "Thank you."
"Of course," Nezu reaches up to pat his head, careful not to mess with the hairnet. "Now, you can continue being a menace."
Despite his insistence on helping, Venti grins at him. "Loud and clear!"
It all began with a question.
"Do you want to be a hero?" Nezu had asked him during a lull in a lesson about current hero politics. Something about the repercussions of Pro Hero Endeavor's penchant for destruction and his hero ranking. It isn't very interesting to Venti, but Nezu finds it important enough to discuss with him.
Venti was listening with half an ear. The question throws him off, however.
Venti is not heroic. He had never been the hero in any of his stories. The storyteller, the prophet, the martyr - in all the roles he had to play, not once was he the hero.
He is thankful for it.
Being a hero means being brave, and kind, and just. Being a hero means risking your life for a cause. Being a hero means giving more than what you think you are offering, and accepting what is asked of you all the same.
Being a hero requires being painfully human.
Of all the stories Venti had been a part of, of all the stories he had told, he didn't find himself to be moved by heroism. His actions weren't because of a greater cause, nor a righteous life. His decisions weren't because of honor, nor glory, nor reputation.
Venti can't view himself as a hero when the reason for his actions is deeply selfish. He was, after all, a simple wind sprite who moved because of love.
It is as simple as that.
Nezu only watches him in silence, waiting for his answer.
Venti can say no. Venti wants to say no.
“I'm not sure,” he says instead. “I don't think I'd make a good hero.”
“I see,” Nezu says instead of asking why. “Tell me when that changes, alright?”
“Okay.”
The way Nezu trusts him is simple: Nezu nods at him as if to affirm a point and returns to the lesson, unbothered by Venti's answer.
Venti is.
Do you want to be a hero?
Venti lies down on the grass in one of U.A.’s open training fields, Lunch Rush politely but firmly kicking him out of the kitchen an hour or two before lunch. The grass is short and itchy, but the winds are nice and cool on his sweaty skin.
He looks at the clouds lazily rolling by. “I don't know,” he says to the winds, “I don't think I can be.”
Why?
Because he is too soft, because he is made to protect rather than to save, because he is selfish.
Because he is terrified.
“I'm scared,” Venti finally admits, the words slow and quiet. He forces out something softer, something easier to swallow. That he is scared like a child is of the dark, and not like the dread that settles into your stomach, unable to vomit it out. “I'm scared of losing everything.”
It does not soften the blow.
Much like the winds of Mondstadt, they see right through him. Venti has always been an open book to the winds. He does not mind it, not really. Maybe he should care, even just a bit, since these winds are following a different song.
But it's the winds. That's enough of a reason for Venti to always hum along to their tune.
You will not lose your home, they say like a song well worn and loved.
“I know.”
You will not lose Nezu, they say like the creak of an ancient tree.
“I know.”
You will not lose us, they say like an oath.
Venti sighs. “I know.”
What are you waiting for?
Why would Venti want to be a hero in the first place? He was not the type to be one. And yet.
There are stories to be told and stories to discover. Promises to fulfill and oaths to honor. This, too, is one of the many choices he is free to make.
Venti laughs, defeat and relief in equal measure. “You know me too well, my winds. You could've let me stew in my misery a bit, couldn't you?” he says, aiming for playfulness. He ends up somewhere between helplessness and resignation.
We know you.
Venti wonders, then, what the winds are reading from the page of his book right now.
What makes you so confident of me, he wants to ask. To know all my faults, to know me at my weakest, and yet your belief in me is unwavering. You are not the winds I was once part of, and I am not one of yours to begin with.
What do you see, my dear winds?
“That you do,” Venti says instead as he stands, stretching upwards. He knows what the answer will be. He does not need the words to the song he understands innately.
He exhales deeply. “Let's find Nezu, then.”
Nezu is predictably in his office, signing off his endless paperwork.
He looks up when Venti knocks on the door frame.
“Hello pup, perfect timing. I'm about to take a break,” he says as he stands up, making his way to a cabinet filled with refreshments and snacks for his guests.
Venti closes the door and sits down on one of the pair of dark sofas in the middle of his office, with a coffee table between the two sofas. He doesn't offer any help, watching Nezu putter about. Nezu enjoys taking care of him. Venti lets him.
“Coffee or tea?” Nezu asks as he places two white cups with saucers and a pot on a tray.
“Coffee, please.”
“Wrong,” Nezu says pleasantly. “It's tea.”
Venti giggles, and Nezu smiles at him as he makes his way to Venti with tray in his hands, tea bags in the cups.
“You don't have to be a hero if you don't want to be one,” Nezu casually says as he pours hot water into the cups.
Venti knows that tone. “I'm sensing a but.”
Nezu sits beside him. “Correct. I know how you are. You are selfless and you cannot stand injustice. A bleeding heart. I don't know where you get it from since I am anything but.”
“Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?”
“And as you are my pup,” Nezu continues, used to Venti's theatrics, “there are a lot of people keeping an eye on you.”
Venti knocks his shoulder into Nezu's. He doesn't have to bend that much to reach him, now that they are seated next to each other. “I guess becoming a traveling bard is out of the question?”
“If it's a traveling bard that fights any injustice he sees, then I suppose why not?”
“Like one of the cartoons Miss Shuzenji used to show me?”
“Her grandchildren like those shows, you know. I think you remind her of them,” Nezu indulges him. He reaches over to put sugar in Venti's cup of tea after removing the tea bags. He follows it with cream.
Venti watches him, something fond settling in his chest.
“You can always choose not to do heroics,” Nezu says as he brings the sweetened milk tea near Venti, taking his own cup of tea plain. No sugar nor cream, the dreadful man. “It is your choice. No matter what you choose to do, I will support you.”
“You won't be disappointed if I don't go into heroics?”
“You are my pup; it is my duty to guide you in whatever path you choose. Heroic or not, I will be here for you.”
Venti takes a sip of tea; the warmth from the drink and from Nezu bloom inside him.
“Thank you, Nezu-papa,” he says, fondness making his words soft and fragile.
Nezu lets out a startled laugh. "Nezu-papa?“
Venti nods. "Nezu-papa,” he confirms. It is childish, he knows.
It is also what Nezu has become to him after all these years.
He watches Nezu smile in a hopeless sort of way, as if the lifting of the corners of his lips is something he cannot stop.
"I'm honored, pup,” Nezu says, amusement and endearment wrapped in his words.
Venti elbows him gently. "You should be,” he teases, allowing the moment to turn into something less serious.
Nezu tilts his head towards Venti, fully knowing what he's doing. He nods and yet his smile turns brighter.
"Understood,” he says. “Let me know what you decide to do and we will plan from there. Please remember that we do have a deadline, enrollment for the coming school year is about to start."
“Do you not actually need my answer right now?”
“No, I knew you were going to drag your feet into answering. A little push isn't so bad now, is it?”
"I should've known!” Venti exclaims, all played up offense. “Besides, you act as if you don't know what my decision is."
"I don't, but I have my guesses."
“We both know that you already calculated the odds.”
“I am neither confirming nor denying.”
Venti sticks out his tongue at Nezu. Nezu peacefully sips at his tea.
Venti looks at the ceiling, the almost too hot warmth of the cup seeping into his fingers. Time passes. Nezu soon finishes his tea, letting the silence linger. It isn't uncomfortable by any means but rather very peaceful - a lull in the chaos.
"I'm going to be a Hero,” Venti announces, suddenly gripping his cup. There is a steady strength to his voice.
It is a well-known tune. It is the strength that drove him to protect. It is the strength that gave him the voice to tell his stories. It is the strength that protected his loved ones.
It is the strength that gives him the courage to see what the future brings.
Nezu places his empty cup on the table, the clink of the ceramic cup against a plate sounding like the end of a chapter. "Very well.”
Venti hums as he lounges on the sofa, the day winding down. The school has gone quiet, dusk growing into night.
Nezu is still at his desk, meticulously planning something that Venti does not bother to understand.
“I should enroll in a different school," he says absentmindedly, looking out one of the many windows in Nezu’s office.
The sky is always so pretty during this time. Nezu's office is a bit dull, all grays and blues, but the colors of the sky paint a nice juxtaposition between the two. Venti definitely appreciates the appeal of big, bright windows.
"Why not U.A.?" Nezu asks, the quiet rhythm of his pen on paper a familiar song.
Venti hums a drawn-out note. "Nepotism?" he settles on.
Nezu’s pen stops. "Venti,” he starts, and Venti is mildly alarmed by the use of his name, “I still have my pride as a principal. U.A. is ranked the best heroic school for a reason."
"But!” he protests, sitting up to face Nezu. “Nepotism!"
Nezu places his pen down on his desk, placing his full attention on Venti. "What makes you think that you're entering U.A. through recommendation?“
"Nezu-papa!“ Venti exclaims, unsure whether to be offended or flattered.
"After all, I want to show off my pup."
He's embarrassed, actually. Definitely embarrassed.
"You’re embarrassing!" he reiterates.
"Ah, such is the role of fathers," Nezu waxes.
Venti sputters. "I'll do the bare minimum to get in!" he exclaims, the best retort he can come up with.
"Will you?" Nezu shoots back, a pleasant smile on his face. His eyes say otherwise, narrowed and focused on Venti.
Venti can feel a chill going down his spine.
"Ehe," Venti stutters, "I'll do my best!"
The glare disappears. Nezu goes back to writing. "Good.”
Venti flops back into the sofa, defeated.
“We'll be changing your schedule,” Nezu adds almost like an afterthought. “Don't stay up late.”
Venti only whines.