Flowers apart

5

Xiao doesn't know how he got back to Wangshu Inn, but miraculously, he did.

The entire time back, Xiao clutched onto the empty gnosis so tight that it had started biting into his skin, the sharp protruding parts of the slivery vine around the glass drawing blood from his palm, making him seethe in pain.

But he didn't care. Pain was good. Pain helped him focus. Pain helped him forget.

At least for awhile.

He doesn't want to remember the fact that Venti was Barbatos. He doesn't want to remember the fact that the both of them, being the same person that he loved, was dead. He doesn't want to remember the fact that the stupid disease has him in his hands again even after he tried so hard to push it away so many years ago-

Why does one even get the Hanahaki Disease when the other is dead?

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

The word rang out in his head as he desperately opened the door to his room, looking in.

No, no, he can't be- He tried to convince himself. He's still here, right? Asleep soundly on the bed?

He quickly rushed to the bed, where Venti was supposed to be sleeping, safe and alive. But it was empty and crumpled, just like his heart. His feelings. His state of mind.

Hah...no...

Xiao couldn't help himself. He let out a feral scream, one of lost, pain, and everything else that was overriding his rationale. He tugged on the sheets, hard, until it ripped apart, but that wasn't enough.

He stumbled back against the closet, and he turned to see the black teal outfit that he had borrowed Venti on his first day here. With the reminder, he lashed out, pushing the wardrobe over, clothes spilling out of it.

He looked to his right to see Venti's precious lyre on the table, now as silent as the wind without Venti plucking the strings. He knocked it over, and it fell to the ground, the strings making horrible sounds as it scraped across the floor.

"Hey! That's my precious lyre! Be careful with it! You'll break it!" He could almost hear Venti berate him for even letting the lyre touch the ground, which was what the bard had scolded him for when he had accidentally knocked it over one day.

With the memory of him in his mind, he felt his legs give out beneath him, his knees hitting the floor with a loud thud.

He can't take it anymore.

Venti, Venti, Venti. When has the boy dominated so much of his life? Even his room was full of him, his smell, his things, his memory.

And yet his room...was also devoid of Venti's very presence.

Xiao clutched the empty gnosis tighter, hoping for the pain to blind out the more torturing pain inside, but it wasn't working.

"Venti...Barbatos..." Xiao whimpered, another round of tears unavoidable anymore. He let himself lie on the ground, and curled up within himself, hugging himself tight like he was a little kid.

Just like that, with the help of his tears, he fell into a restless sleep.

***

"Because I'm losing my powers."

That's what Barbatos had said to him softly one day, when Alatus had asked him why he seemed to be tired recently. They were in the process of making almond tofu for him, and he just couldn't help but spot the light dark circles under the god's eyes.