Venti stood in front of the Barbatos statue near the cathedral, his lyre in his hand as he sang about the adventures of a brave traveler who saved the nations.

He had an enthralled crowd, yet his eyes couldn't break away from a specific person: the one who looked exactly like his beloved, his most cherished human whom he had lost so many centuries ago.

His voice faltered, and his head filled with memories—memories of your voice, your smile, and warmth. Memories of the love you once shared.