Prompt: Request by Sawamura on Discord. A practice confession for Sister Lily ends up directed at Noelle by some twist of fate. Words have consequences and Asta has to take responsibility.
—
Asta slumped onto the Black Bulls' common room couch, groaning into his hands. The result of yet another failed confession crushed his spirits—though, if he were honest, crushed might be an exaggeration. He was used to it by now.
"Rejected again, huh?" Finral plopped down beside him, swirling a glass of some fruity-looking drink. "Tough break, buddy."
Asta groaned louder. "I don't get it! I trained so hard for that confession! I even recited it in the mirror! The stance, the delivery, the way my eyes burned with passion—it was all perfect!"
"And yet…" Finral gestured vaguely.
Asta sighed. "And yet Sister Lily still hit me with a gentle 'I'm sorry, Asta, but my feelings haven't changed,' before patting my head like I'm some kid!" He shot up, waving his arms. "I am not a kid! I'm practically an adult! I have muscles! You see these?! These are not kid muscles!" He flexed aggressively, his sleeves straining against his biceps.
Finral took a leisurely sip of his drink. "Mhm. Yep. Very impressive. But, Asta, buddy… maybe your approach is a little off."
Asta frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" Finral stretched, leaning back against the couch. "Let's be honest. You confess to Sister Lily like you're proposing a duel. Passion's great, but love? Love needs finesse. Subtlety. Romance."
Asta squinted. "Romance?"
"Exactly!" Finral clapped his hands together. "If you wanna sweep a woman off her feet, you gotta understand the art of love."
Asta stared. "The… art of love?"
"Yes, my dear, tragically unromantic friend. You're dealing with matters of the heart. Not a battle. Not a workout. Romance." He wagged a finger. "And romance requires preparation."
Asta nodded, serious. "Okay. What do I do?"
Finral grinned. "Simple! First, you study the greats—poetry, love stories, romantic gestures. Learn what makes hearts flutter. Second, you practice your confession until you can say it with effortless charm. And finally"—he leaned in dramatically—"you find your special lady and win her heart with the smoothest, most heartfelt confession of all time."
Asta clenched his fists, eyes shining. "That makes so much sense! I need to train my romance muscles just like I train my actual muscles!" He stood, fired up. "Finral, you're a genius!"
Finral smirked. "I am known as the Bulls' resident romance master."
Vanessa's voice floated over from across the room. "More like resident disaster."
Asta, too excited to hear her, clenched his fists with renewed determination. "I need books. Lots of books. Where's the nearest library?"
"Library?" Finral raised an eyebrow. "Asta, you do know we have a whole bookshelf right over there, right?" He pointed to a dust-covered, half-forgotten bookshelf tucked into the corner of the room.
Asta's eyes locked onto it. "Perfect."
Without another word, he sprinted over and ripped a chunk of books from the shelf, sending a small dust storm into the air. He barely registered a muffled scream from Gordon—who had apparently been reading behind the pile—before plopping down and diving into the first book.
Finral leaned over, peering at the title. "'The Count's Eternal Love: A Tale of Forbidden Passion'?"
"Sounds romantic," Asta muttered, flipping pages at an alarming speed.
Finral chuckled. "Yeah, but I wouldn't exactly call it educational—"
Asta slammed a hand on the table. "WHOA. THIS GUY JUST THREW HIMSELF OFF A BRIDGE FOR LOVE."
Finral winced. "Uh… yeah. You might not wanna do that."
Asta was already onto the next book. "Ohh, this one's about star-crossed lovers! I could totally do that!"
"Not sure Sister Lily would appreciate you faking your death for romance—"
"AH! This one says 'Poetry is the language of love'!" Asta snapped the book shut and pointed dramatically at Finral. "I NEED TO LEARN POETRY."
Finral snorted. "Good luck with that."
What followed was possibly the most horrifying display of poetry ever witnessed in the Black Bulls' hideout.
At first, Asta was convinced poetry was just yelling his feelings really intensely.
"SISTER LILY, YOU ARE AS KIND AS A BIRD— Wait, no. A REALLY NICE BIRD— No, that's not romantic enough. A SWAN!"
"Please stop," muttered Magna, who had walked in only to turn right back around.
Undeterred, Asta kept at it, determined to master the craft. Eventually, he moved on to gestures.
"Apparently, dramatic gestures are key to a good confession," he explained to a very not interested Zora. "Like, standing in the rain with a bouquet!"
Zora blinked. "You know we live in a place with constant explosions, right? You're more likely to be on fire than in rain."
Asta ignored him. He needed to train. He rehearsed confessions in front of a mirror, striking poses, perfecting his delivery.
"Sister Lily, my heart beats only for you! No, no, too desperate. Sister Lily, fate has brought us together— No, too dramatic. Sister Lily, my love for you is like a roaring flame—"
"…You sound exactly like one of those cheap romance novel guys," Luck observed, munching on a snack.
Asta didn't hear him. He was too busy trying to perfect his wink.
Noelle, standing nearby, had been watching this entire ordeal with increasing exasperation.
What in the world is he doing?
It wasn't just annoying. It was insufferable. Asta kept mumbling poetic nonsense under his breath, practicing dramatic stares, and—even worse—accidentally aiming those stupid, earnest looks at her.
At one point, she had been filling a cup of water when he turned suddenly and declared, "You are more radiant than the stars themselves."
She'd nearly dropped the cup.
I swear, if he keeps this up, I'm going to drown him in the nearest lake.
Asta, oblivious to Noelle's increasingly red face and twitching eye, was still deep in romance training.
After three straight days of reading, rehearsing, and dramatically whispering poetry to inanimate objects, Asta collapsed onto the couch, exhausted.
Finral wandered over. "Sooo. Feeling ready, Romeo?"
Asta took a deep breath, fist clenching. "Yes. I am ready."
He stood up, chest puffed. "The next time I see Sister Lily, I will deliver the most heartfelt, poetic confession she has ever heard."
Lightning cracked outside. The moment felt destined.
Nothing could possibly go wrong.
…Right?
—
Asta was ready.
After days of relentless study, dramatic poetry recitals, and more failed winks than he cared to admit, he knew his confession to Sister Lily would be flawless.
All that was left was to find her and deliver his ultimate declaration of love.
Except… she wasn't around.
Something about a nun convention in Hecairo.
Who even knew nuns have meetings?
So now, Asta was left with an overcharged romance mode and nowhere to direct it.
Which was how he ended up in the training grounds, aggressively sparring with Noelle.
"Pay attention, dummy!" Noelle huffed, blocking his strike with a water barrier before sending a torrent of water blasting toward him. "You're getting distracted!"
"I am paying attention!" Asta shouted, dodging the attack. Mostly.
Except, instead of focusing entirely on the fight, his mind kept drifting back to romance. He had trained so hard for his confession. The poetic lines were still fresh in his brain, swirling around like a storm.
Romance was about passion.
Romance was about fire.
Romance was about—
"—STOP ZONING OUT!" Noelle's water dragon slammed into him, sending him crashing into the dirt.
Asta groaned, pushing himself up. "Okay. That was my bad."
Noelle sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, what's wrong with you today? You've been acting weird all week."
Asta blinked. "Weird?"
"Yes! You keep mumbling to yourself, making dramatic gestures, and—" She paused, crossing her arms. "And you keep… looking at me all intense, like you're about to say something ridiculous."
Asta frowned. "I do not!"
"You do!" Noelle threw up her hands. "I don't know what you're up to, but it's distracting. So either focus or—"
Then it happened.
It wasn't planned.
It wasn't intentional.
But all the poetry, all the dramatic lines, all the built-up romance energy needed an outlet.
And Noelle was standing there, flushed, panting slightly from their spar, arms crossed, looking at him with those big, expectant eyes—
The words just slipped out.
"Noelle, my heart beats only for you!"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The world stopped. Birds froze midair. Somewhere in the distance, Finral probably choked on his drink.
Noelle stared at him.
Asta stared at her.
His own words echoed in his head.
Oh no.
Oh. No.
OH NO OH NO OH NO.
Noelle's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
Asta needed to say something. He needed to fix this. Right now.
"I—I mean, what I was trying to say was—"
But before he could finish, Noelle made a noise. A tiny, breathless sound.
Then, all at once, she lit up.
Her hands flew to her mouth. Her entire face went red.
Her eyes went impossibly wide. "You… you—You finally—!"
And then she launched herself at him.
Asta barely had time to react before she crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck.
"You IDIOT!" Noelle half-laughed, half-sobbed against his shoulder. "You finally noticed?! After all this time?!"
Asta's soul left his body.
This was a dream. A hallucination. Some kind of fevered, magic-induced nightmare where he'd wake up in the hospital with Charmy force-feeding him food.
But no.
Noelle was hugging him.
Noelle was shaking with emotion.
Noelle thought he had just confessed to her.
Asta's brain went into overdrive.
WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO—
"I—I can't believe it!" Noelle pulled back slightly, looking up at him with shining eyes. "I—I've waited so long for you to say that! I—" She smacked his chest, her bottom lip wobbling. "You absolute moron!"
Asta made a noise. It might have been words.
Noelle ignored him, completely caught up in her emotions.
"Three years, Asta! Three years I've been waiting for you to notice!" She sniffled, then smacked his chest again for good measure. "Three! And now—now you finally—"
She shook her head, hands fisting in his cloak.
Asta could not breathe.
This was bad. This was really bad.
He had to correct her. He had to tell her the truth.
"Noelle—"
But then she smiled.
It wasn't her usual embarrassed, flustered, tsundere half-smirk.
It wasn't a smirk at all.
It was… radiant.
A bright, genuine, relieved smile.
And Asta's words died in his throat.
Because he had never seen her smile like that before.
"I—I love you too, you idiot," Noelle whispered, voice thick with emotion.
Asta blacked out.
Not literally.
But mentally?
Gone.
His entire thought process collapsed.
Because—what?!
Noelle loved him?!
Noelle had loved him for three years?!
How had he not noticed?!
Before he could recover, Noelle took a step back, rubbing her eyes, looking embarrassed all over again. "Not that I was waiting, or anything," she mumbled, kicking at the dirt. "I mean, I had options—"
"You did?" Asta blurted.
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT." She huffed, crossing her arms again. "The point is… you finally said it. And I'm—" She paused, cheeks burning. "Happy."
Asta's soul died.
Because what kind of demon would destroy that happiness?
The correct thing to do was to tell her the truth.
To say 'Wait, this was a huge misunderstanding, I didn't actually mean to confess to you—'
But.
But.
Noelle was smiling.
Noelle was happy.
And the thought of ruining that happiness—of taking back words that had made her so overwhelmed with joy—made something twist inside him.
So instead of telling her the truth, instead of ruining the moment…
Asta swallowed.
And smiled back.
"Yeah," he said, feeling like he was signing a deal with the underworld. "Me too."
Noelle lit up.
And before Asta could even begin to process the chaos he had just unleashed upon his life—
She grabbed his hand.
"Come on! I have to tell everyone!"
Asta died inside.
And just like that, he—Asta, future Wizard King, the man who had spent years pining after Sister Lily—was now Noelle Silva's official boyfriend.
By complete accident.
—
Asta had fought devils. He had survived life-or-death battles. He had gone toe-to-toe with the strongest mages in the kingdom.
None of that prepared him for this.
"ASTA AND NOELLE ARE DATING!?"
The Black Bulls common room exploded.
Furniture was overturned. Plates shattered. Someone—probably Luck—started climbing the walls like a gremlin. The only one not losing their mind was Captain Yami, who was busy picking his teeth with his new katana.
Asta sat there, smiling so hard his face hurt. He was screaming internally.
Noelle, meanwhile, stood proudly beside him, chest puffed up, hands on her hips. "That's right! Asta and I are officially together!"
The room detonated again.
"What the hell!?" Magna slammed a fist on the table. "When did this happen!?"
Noelle beamed. "Just today! He finally confessed!"
NO I DIDN'T, Asta thought, smiling even harder.
Luck was practically vibrating. "You do realize this means we have to spar now, right?!"
"What? Why—"
"To test your love strength!"
"What does that even mean!?"
"Oi, oi." Yami finally cut in, looking vaguely interested. "So, the shrimp finally grew a pair and asked out the royal pain in the ass, huh?"
"ROYAL PAIN IN THE—" Noelle choked on her own rage.
Asta saw his chance.
"NOELLE, PLEASE." He grabbed her hands dramatically. "Don't get mad. It's not worth it!"
She turned red. "W-Why are you—"
"Because I love you!" Asta blurted.
The room erupted again.
Noelle made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a dying cat.
Asta internally collapsed.
He was doomed. Completely, utterly doomed.
But seeing Noelle's flustered, glowing face—seeing how happy she was—he shoved the guilt down.
If this was what made her happy, then fine.
He'd just… figure it out later.
—
The real problem started the next morning.
Because Noelle? She took their relationship seriously.
Very, very seriously.
"Asta!" She appeared beside him in the courtyard, hands clasped behind her back. "Let's train together!"
"We always train together."
"Yes, but now it's couple training!"
"...That's not a thing."
"It is now!"
Asta was not going to argue with that logic.
Then, after training, she dragged him to the capital.
"For a date," she said primly. "Because that's what couples do."
Asta did not argue. Mostly because he was still scrambling to process the fact that they were holding hands.
Holding hands.
Noelle Silva. Holding his hand.
Voluntarily.
And she wasn't even trying to kill him.
It was… nice.
Too nice.
Which made Asta's stomach hurt.
Because this was all based on a lie.
I have to tell her the truth.
Except every time he tried, Noelle would do something cute—like smile at him over a cup of tea or ramble about how great their compatibility was—and he'd chicken out.
Because how could he ruin this?
How could he take this away from her?
—
Then came the second realization.
Noelle was amazing.
Like, duh, he'd always thought she was great. But now that he was actively paying attention to her in a new way, things started clicking.
Like how she always stayed up late to heal him after missions.
Despite not being a healer.
Or how she always made sure he ate enough, even while denying she was doing it.
Or how she always looked at him—like he was the most important thing in the world.
And the worst part?
He liked it.
A lot.
Like, way too much.
Which led to another terrible realization:
Oh no. I'm falling for her.
This was bad.
This was really bad.
Because this was supposed to be fake.
But it wasn't fake anymore.
Not for him.
And at this rate…
He wasn't sure it had ever been fake for her.
—
A few weeks in, Asta was in trouble.
Because his stomach did weird things when Noelle smiled at him.
Because he wanted to hold her hand.
Because he kept catching himself staring at her and thinking dumb thoughts like, Wow, she's really pretty, and She's so strong, and I could stay like this forever.
And that was when he knew.
He was in deep.
And there was no getting out of it now.
Because for the first time in his life, he wasn't thinking about Sister Lily.
He was thinking about Noelle.
And the worst part?
He didn't mind at all.
—
Asta was doomed.
Not the "facing an ancient devil" kind of doomed. Not the "Vice Captain Nacht just ordered me to clean the entire hideout alone" kind. Not even the "Captain Yami says 'surpass your limits right here, right now or I'll Kill ya'" sort.
This was worse.
Because he was in love.
With Noelle.
And there was no getting out of it now.
—
At first, he tried to fight it.
Tried to tell himself this was just a situation. A weird, accidental situation that got out of control, and all he had to do was keep up the act until he found a way out.
But that logic fell apart every time Noelle did something stupidly adorable.
Like that time she clung to his back after a mission, exhausted but refusing to let go, mumbling about how "It's not like I want to be carried or anything, but if you insist—"
Or the time she blasted Finral out a window because he dared to suggest Asta was the lucky one in the relationship. ("OF COURSE HE IS, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!")
Or the time she fell asleep beside him after training, and he spent the whole night lying awake, staring at her peaceful face, realizing he was screwed.
This wasn't an accident anymore.
This wasn't fake anymore.
This was real.
For him, at least.
Which meant… he had a problem.
Because one day, she was going to find out the truth.
And when she did?
She was going to hate him.
—
It all came to a head on a mission.
They'd been ambushed. Standard stuff. Nothing they couldn't handle.
But at some point, Noelle had taken a hit.
Not a bad one, just a scratch—but Asta hadn't seen it at first.
Which meant when he finally did see the blood on her sleeve, something snapped inside him.
"WHO DID THAT?!"
He didn't even wait for an answer. He was gone, tearing through the battlefield, smashing through enemies like an unstoppable force of rage and muscle.
By the time the fight was over, Asta was still furious.
Not at Noelle. Not even at the guys who had dared to hurt her.
At himself.
Because he'd never felt like this before.
Sure, he'd always cared about his squadmates. He'd always been protective. But this? This was different.
This was instinct.
The kind of instinct that screamed, She's yours to protect.
And when he turned back to her—panting, shaking with leftover adrenaline—Noelle was just staring at him.
Like she knew.
Like she finally understood something that had been right in front of them this whole time.
"Asta…"
Her voice was soft. Uncertain.
He felt his heartbeat slam against his ribs.
She was about to ask.
She was about to say something that would force him to tell the truth.
So he did the only thing he could do.
He panicked.
"I LOVE YOU!" he blurted.
Noelle exploded.
Not literally.
But emotionally? Absolutely.
Her face erupted into red, her arms flailed, and her voice broke the sound barrier.
"W-WHAT—WHY—YOU CAN'T JUST—"
"I JUST DID!"
She made a noise that wasn't human.
Asta took the opening and ran.
—
That night, Asta sat outside, staring at the stars, still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
"That was a bold move," a voice said behind him.
Asta nearly jumped. "MISTER FINRAL?!"
The older mage smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Dropping the L-word? Impressive. Even I wasn't that smooth back in the day."
"That wasn't smooth!" Asta groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. "It was a desperate distraction tactic!"
Finral blinked. "…So you didn't actually mean it?"
Asta froze.
Because he had meant it.
Every word.
And that was the problem.
Finral's smirk faded slightly. "You're never gonna tell her, are you?"
Asta sighed. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because…" He shut his eyes. "Because I don't want to ruin this."
He didn't want to see Noelle's happiness shatter.
Didn't want her to look at him with betrayal instead of love.
Didn't want to risk losing the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Finral was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed.
"Well… I think you're an idiot."
"Thanks."
"But," Finral continued, "for what it's worth… I think she loves you too much to care."
Asta swallowed.
He didn't know if that was true.
But he knew one thing:
He wasn't ever going to tell her the truth.
Because this—this beautiful, unexpected, accidental love—was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
And if it had started as a mistake?
Then so be it.
He'd take this secret to his grave.
And he'd love Noelle for the rest of his life.