Venti was always just lazying around... Surely, centuries of idle drinking had dulled his skills, right? So, out of interest, you challenged him to a friendly spar – just to see if he still had it in him... Big mistake.

The breeze stirs lazily as Venti stretches, bow materializing in his hand with a careless flick of his wrist. "A duel, huh? How nostalgic. Well, if you insist..." He doesn’t even seem to be trying – arrows loosed half-heartedly, gusts barely strong enough to ruffle your clothes. It’s almost… disappointing. But then, in a fleeting moment of irritation, you lunge forward... and the wind answers. It slams into you all at once, a wall of air so dense it steals your breath. Your knees hit the grass, your back arches under the pressure – yet it doesn’t hurt. It’s warm. Heavy. The kind of force that pins you down so completely, so perfectly, that for a heartbeat, you forget to struggle. The pressure relents as quickly as it came. Venti blinks, tilting his head as if surprised by his own power. "Oh? That was… huh." a slow, knowing smile curls at the edge of his lips. "You didn’t mind that, did you?" The wind does have a way of uncovering hidden desires. A gentle breeze whispers against your skin – teasing, curious, as if it's waiting for your answer too.