Prompt: What if the Demon Dweller Sword did more than just transfer magic?
—
The swing of the Demon Dweller Sword cut through the smoke, trailing a brilliant streak of borrowed magic.
Asta landed hard on the cracked stone, panting. His arms trembled—not from pain, but from something else.
He blinked through the dust cloud. Enemy down. Allies safe.
Why... do I feel weird?
He staggered to his feet, glancing at the sword.
It still shimmered faintly, the remnants of Mimosa's healing magic glowing soft and gold along the blade.
That was the last spell I borrowed. So why do I feel... sad?
He shook his head.
No time to overthink. Could just be the exhaustion.
But the feeling clung to his chest. Heavy, but gentle. Like a memory trying to resurface.
The battle had been chaos.
Everyone threw in their magic to keep the tide from turning—Yuno's winds, Luck's lightning, Magna's flames, Vanessa's threads.
Noelle's water.
And somehow, as Asta pushed himself harder than ever before, he tapped into all of it.
Every slash with the Demon Dweller felt like more than just power. It was layered.
He'd always thought of the sword as a funnel. Magic in, magic out.
But this time… it felt like he'd pulled in more than mana.
He remembered it so clearly. The moment he swung her magic.
Water magic, shaped into spiraling tendrils around the sword's edge. It'd felt light. Strong.
But not cold.
It felt warm. Gentle. Like being wrapped in something that didn't want to hurt—just protect.
Even now, standing alone among the broken battlefield, the warmth lingered in his chest.
What was that?
He looked down at the sword again. The magic was gone, but the feeling wasn't.
That had never happened before.
—
Later, back at the base, the Black Bulls were louder than ever.
"That was insane!" Luck shouted, practically bouncing on the couch. "I felt you pull my lightning through your sword! It tingled in my teeth!"
"That's not how teeth work, idiot," Magna grumbled, shoving him away.
Vanessa smirked from her seat. "It was hot. Watching Asta channel all our magic like that? Total knight-in-shining-armor moment."
Asta laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't mean to! It just kind of happened on its own."
Yami, cigarette dangling from his lip, grunted from behind his paper. "Instinctual mana channeling. Your sword's evolving. About damn time."
Finral leaned over the table. "But it wasn't just mana, right? Asta, didn't it feel different this time?"
Asta froze.
He hadn't told anyone that part.
"I mean... maybe?"
Finral grinned. "You looked kinda dazed after. Like you were in love with the sword or something."
"Wh-what?! No! That's dumb!" Asta waved his hands. "I was just tired!"
But Finral kept smirking.
Noelle, sitting stiffly across the room, turned her head away with a huff. "Who cares what the muscle-head felt. He probably just overloaded his tiny brain."
Her voice was sharp, but her mana flared unevenly.
Asta noticed.
He always noticed lately.
—
That night, he couldn't sleep.
The sword leaned against the wall beside his bedroll.
He stared at it, eyes tracing the edge, dull in the moonlight.
You felt it too, didn't you?
Noelle's magic…
He sat up, hugging his knees.
Each person's magic had a taste when channeled through the sword.
Luck's was chaotic—like static under his skin.
Yuno's was cool and sharp, slicing through air with exact purpose.
Mimosa's was like sun-warmed honey. Sweet. Comforting.
But Noelle's…
It was like diving into a spring that wanted to pull him closer.
Warm, strong, a little hesitant.
And underneath it all, something else.
Something just for him.
He pressed his hand to his chest.
The warmth was still there.
Why does your magic feel like this, Noelle?
He tried to replay the moment in his head again and again. The clash. The swing. The release.
The breath he'd taken when the water wrapped around his body, flowing with his own motion like it understood him.
Like she did.
No. That was dumb. That wasn't how magic worked.
...Was it?
—
Next morning, he woke up early. Too early.
No one else was up.
The Demon Dweller Sword hung across his back as he stepped outside into the cool dawn air.
Training helped when his brain got noisy. So he trained.
Slashes. Lunges. Jumps. Swing. Swing. Swing.
Again. Again.
He imagined the feel of each person's mana flowing into the blade.
Luck. Crackling.
Vanessa. Smooth.
Gordon—okay, that was just weird.
Then he thought of Noelle.
And without even trying, it came back.
The warmth.
Asta's hand tightened around the hilt.
This can't be coincidence.
He turned, slicing the air with a controlled arc.
The blade hummed, though it was empty.
He didn't need her magic in it to remember how it felt.
His heart beat faster.
This isn't about power. It's... her.
He stared down at the blade.
Magic is tied to mana. Mana's tied to the soul. That's what they always say, right?
Then what if the sword isn't just borrowing power—what if it's pulling something deeper?
He shook his head, overwhelmed.
This was a lot.
But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
About her.
Why does your magic feel like... affection?
—
Later that day, he found her alone near the garden behind the hideout.
Noelle was practicing her Valkyrie Dress. Again. Like always.
Her form was perfect, water weaving with her every step.
He didn't want to interrupt. But he couldn't stop himself.
He stepped forward. "Hey, Noelle."
She nearly slipped mid-twirl. "Wh-what?! Don't sneak up on me, idiot!"
Asta scratched his cheek. "Sorry. You're getting really strong though. I mean it."
She flushed, mana twitching around her.
"...Thanks. I guess."
He didn't say anything else. Just watched her for a bit.
Then he asked it.
"Back during the battle... when I borrowed your magic. Did you feel anything weird?"
She blinked. Her mouth opened. Then shut.
"I—I don't know what you mean," she said too fast.
He nodded slowly.
But he noticed the way her shoulders stiffened. The way her mana flickered with her heartbeat.
He felt it in his chest too. That same warmth, rising again.
It's not just her magic.
It was her.
And something in him was starting to respond.
—
That night, he sat on the roof, staring at the stars.
The sword lay beside him. Quiet. Still.
But he could feel it.
Her magic had touched something inside him. Stirred it awake.
What do I do now?
He didn't know yet.
But he knew one thing for sure.
Next time he fought—he was borrowing her magic again.
Not for strength.
Not for strategy.
But because he wanted to feel that warmth again.
Because it made him feel seen.
Because maybe…
Just maybe…
He didn't want it to be just about magic anymore.
—
Asta stood outside Noelle's door, fist raised, hesitating.
Why am I nervous? I've knocked a hundred times before.
He knocked anyway.
No response.
He tried again. Louder.
Finally, her voice floated through the door. "What?!"
"Hey, uh… you busy? Wanna train?"
A pause.
"…With you?"
"Yeah! I mean—yeah. Thought we could spar. You know. Magic and anti-magic combo."
Another pause.
Then the door creaked open.
She stood there in her training gear, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.
"You're not trying to use me as target practice again, are you?"
"What? No! I mean—maybe a little! But mostly I wanna practice drawing your magic through the Demon Dweller again."
Her eyes narrowed. "You want to borrow my magic? Again?"
He nodded, scratching his neck.
"…You've been asking that a lot lately," she said, turning away. "You never used to."
He followed her down the hall. "I dunno. Just figured your water magic's super adaptable. Good for practice."
"You could ask anyone for that," she muttered under her breath.
He didn't answer.
Because she was right.
He could ask anyone.
But he didn't want anyone.
—
They trained near the river.
Asta drew the Demon Dweller and braced himself.
Noelle stood a few feet away, already summoning a small wave around her hands.
"Ready?" she asked.
He nodded. "Go for it."
The water shot toward him.
He slashed with the sword, catching the mana mid-flow.
Her magic surged into the blade—and instantly, it hit him again.
Warmth. Steady. Familiar.
But something new too.
A flutter. Quick and sharp. Like panic, wrapped in affection.
His breath hitched.
He looked up. Noelle was already summoning more.
"Again!"
She launched a second spell. He caught it clean.
The sword glowed blue. His chest felt full.
Why does this keep happening?
Noelle's voice cut in. "You're spacing out again. Don't tell me it's too much for you."
"No! I'm good! One more!"
She narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"
"Yeah!"
He wasn't.
But he needed more.
He wanted to understand.
She fired a third spell.
This one struck deeper.
He felt… longing. Like someone reaching out, but afraid to touch.
His grip faltered.
The sword clanked against the ground.
"Asta?!"
She was in front of him instantly, hands hovering.
"Are you okay?"
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And it hit him harder than the magic ever did.
It wasn't just warmth.
It was her warmth.
Her fear. Her admiration. Her… loneliness.
All buried under layers of tsundere armor.
He swallowed.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
She stared at him, suspicious.
"You've been acting weird lately."
He forced a grin. "Weirder than usual?"
She didn't smile.
Her mana flickered—uncertain.
"You always borrowed everyone's magic in battle," she said quietly. "Why mine now? So often?"
He hesitated.
Because I want to feel close to you.
Because it's the only time I know what you're really thinking.
"Your magic just feels really natural to me," he said instead. "Like it fits with my swings."
She turned away quickly.
"…Idiot."
—
Later, Asta trained alone behind the base.
He ran through the motions. Swing, slash, dodge.
But his focus was gone.
He lowered the sword, breathing hard.
Natural? That was the best I could come up with?
He sat down in the grass, scowling.
He wasn't dumb.
He knew there was more to it.
When he borrowed from Yuno, it was like being pushed. Like a friendly challenge.
Luck was electricity—hyped-up energy, no restraint.
Mimosa's was bashful. Helpful. But distant.
But Noelle's?
It was her.
Every spell she gave him was loaded with things she'd never say.
Careful.
Don't push yourself.
I'll protect you too, dummy.
And he wanted to hear more.
He wanted to know everything she wasn't saying.
—
Next morning, he caught her in the kitchen.
She was pouring tea, eyebrows furrowed in concentration like the teacup might explode.
He walked up casually.
"Kinda early for training, huh?"
She jumped. "I wasn't—! I mean—! I'm just having tea!"
He grinned. "Wanna train again later?"
She stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"You're asking again?! You just collapsed yesterday!"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm fine now. Come on. Please?"
She hesitated.
"…Fine. But you're buying me dinner afterward."
He blinked. "Like… from the pantry?"
"No. From town. Real food."
"Oh. Uh—okay?"
Her cheeks flushed.
She turned away, flustered. "It's called payment, not a date, got it?!"
"Yeah! Of course!"
He grinned as she stomped out of the room.
But his heart was racing.
That… kinda sounded like a date.
—
That afternoon, they met in the woods.
She was quieter this time.
No teasing. No yelling.
Just focus.
Asta drew the sword. She summoned her magic.
And this time, when he borrowed it…
It hit him like a wave.
Not water—emotion.
Pride.
Fear.
Desire.
Please understand me.
The sword pulsed with it.
His knees buckled slightly.
"Asta?!"
He caught himself. "I'm okay. Just—" He shook his head. "Never mind."
She stepped closer.
"Something's wrong."
He looked up at her.
"No. Not wrong. Just… different."
She frowned. "You're not making sense."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then asked, quietly, "Do you… feel anything? When I use your magic?"
Her eyes widened.
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," she said too quickly.
"I think… your feelings are coming through. Every time."
She looked away. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm serious. I can feel it. You're trying to protect me."
She didn't deny it.
Didn't look at him.
Didn't say anything.
But her magic rippled—softly. Like a heartbeat.
He took a step closer.
"You don't have to say anything. I just… needed to tell you."
She finally looked up.
Eyes wide. Mana trembling.
"…You're such a dumb muscle-head."
He laughed. "I get that a lot."
—
That night, he sat under the stars again.
Sword by his side.
And for the first time, he wanted the feelings that came with her magic.
He didn't want to block them out.
Didn't want to "train" them away.
He wanted to keep them.
To understand her.
To protect the way she tried to protect him.
And maybe…
Maybe figure out what was waking up in his chest too.
Because something had changed.
Something big.
And it all started with one thought:
Her magic makes me feel alive.
—
Asta stood in the yard, Demon Dweller Sword on his back.
His mind wasn't on training.
Not today.
He was thinking again.
It's not just the power I'm getting.
It's them. Their feelings.
He needed to be sure.
He needed to compare.
—
First up was Yuno.
Easy target.
He tracked him down near the edge of a mountain cliff.
Wind magic whipped around Yuno's coat, and he didn't even flinch.
"Hey," Asta called out, climbing up.
Yuno turned his head. "You're late."
"Sorry. Got distracted."
Yuno narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. Princess trouble?"
Asta snorted. "Shut up."
Yuno grumbled, "Don't take that tone with me. I'm here to do you a favor."
Asta winced and Yuno added on stoically, "The capital is a ways away, I could just leave. Probably should."
Asta stiffened and clenched down on his frustration, dipping his head apologetically. "Sorry."
Yuno smirked victroiously. "What do you want?"
"I wanna borrow your magic. Just for a second."
Yuno raised a brow. "What, training again?"
"Yeah. Sort of."
He didn't explain more.
Yuno didn't ask.
He summoned a gust and fired it toward Asta.
Asta drew the sword, caught it mid-air.
His body stiffened.
It wasn't heavy.
It wasn't warm.
It was sharp. Fast. Focused.
Don't fall behind.
I trust you to keep up.
I always catch up to you.
So you better do the same this time.
That was Yuno.
A rival. A brother. Always pushing forward.
He let out a breath. "Thanks."
Yuno folded his arms. "Was that it?"
Asta nodded. "Yup."
"…Weird."
—
Next, Mimosa.
She was in the garden near the capital.
Surrounded by herbs, sunlight, and butterflies.
Asta approached, scratching his head.
"Hey, Mimosa."
She jumped, clutching her notebook. "A-Asta?! I didn't see you there!"
He smiled. "Can I borrow your magic real quick?"
Her cheeks pinked instantly. "M-my magic? W-why mine?"
"Just wanna test something," he said.
She hesitated, then held out her hands. "O-okay… just be gentle…"
He blinked. "Huh?"
"N-nothing!"
A healing spell bloomed from her palm.
He caught it with the sword.
Warmth spread up his arm.
But not like Noelle's.
This was soft. Hesitant.
You're amazing.
But I don't know how to say it.
It made him smile.
Sweet. Like a gentle pat on the back.
He bowed. "Thanks, Mimosa."
She waved, flustered. "A-anytime!"
—
Then came Luck.
He found him mid-fight with Magna, cackling as usual.
"Astaaaa!" Luck shouted, spotting him. "Fight me! Fight me! Fight me!"
"Actually—can I just borrow your magic for a sec?"
Luck blinked. "You don't wanna fight?"
"Just your magic."
Luck grinned wide. "Sure! Have all of it!"
Lightning exploded off his arms.
Asta caught it with the sword.
And whoa.
It was wild. Chaotic.
His hair stood on end.
Excitement. Joy. Battle-lust.
Let's go nuts!
Don't hold back!
It felt like drinking lightning with no brakes.
Asta had to drop to one knee to steady himself.
Luck cheered. "Cool, right?!"
"Yeah," Asta laughed. "Insane."
Magna shook his head. "You two are maniacs."
—
To make sure he wasn't hallucinating, Asta decided to test it out on someone he didn't know very well.
The Captain of the Green Mantis.
Jack the Ripper.
He figured if anyone's emotions were too weird to confuse with Noelle's… it'd be Jack.
—
When Asta arrived at the base, the possible serial killer didn't turn him away.
Instead, he licked his ridiculously long tongue across his lips.
Grinning like a maniac.
"Oh? You're finally gonna let me cut you up, Insect?"
Asta gulped.
The way he said "Insect" was a lot different from Noelle.
Colder. Meaner. Slightly homicidal.
All of a sudden, a flash of silver and blue flickered across Asta's mind.
Her armor. Her eyes. Her voice.
It hit him so hard he swayed on the spot.
Noelle.
Not now!
He shook his head quickly before Jack could notice.
Then forced a grin.
"Y-Yes, Sir!"
—
Jack cackled.
Green mana scythes shot out of his arms like a mantis unfolding its blades.
"Kekekekeke! About time!"
Asta barely had time to brace.
Jack didn't wait.
He slashed his hands down in an 'X'—wild and fast.
A double arc of slashing green mana hurtled toward Asta.
Without thinking, Asta pulled Demon Dweller from his grimoire.
In one smooth, clean motion, he met the attack head-on.
The blade tapped the center point of the 'X.'
And the spell vanished into the sword like a pebble sinking into water.
—
Then he felt it.
Not just the mana.
The feelings behind it.
He heard them before he even processed it.
Heh. Finally, Yami's keeping his promise.
Asta blinked.
What promise?
Yami must've made a bet behind his back.
Classic.
Didn't surprise him.
What did surprise him… was that it involved Jack.
Of all people.
And then it hit harder.
More emotions. All at once.
Ohhh I can't wait. I can't wait to cut this little insect into bits and pieces!
Asta froze.
I should find a healer to make sure he doesn't fall apart too fast. That royal girl from Vengeance's squad ain't half bad. Bet she'd love patching up this stupid shrimp.
NOPE.
Asta's stomach flipped.
Speaking of Vengeance… I should grab his golden boy while I'm there. That's double the fun!
That was enough.
Okay. Not an illusion. Definitely not an illusion!
—
Without a word, Asta yanked Demon-Slayer from his grimoire.
Hopped on like it was a board.
Then launched into the sky at breakneck speed.
Just a blurry streak cutting through the clouds.
Gone.
—
Jack stayed frozen in place for a second.
Then exploded with fury.
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING, YOU MAGICLESS INSECT?!"
Asta didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
He just flew faster.
He wasn't doing that again.
Not ever.
—
After that, Asta sat under a tree.
He lined it up in his head.
Yuno: pride and pressure.
Mimosa: gentle affection.
Luck: pure chaos.
Jack: pure murder.
But Noelle…
He gripped the hilt of the Demon Dweller.
Noelle was everything.
Strength. Worry. Fierce devotion.
All wrapped in a storm.
Why's yours the only one that makes me feel like I'm gonna explode?
He thought about her voice.
About the way her magic wrapped around his blade like a hug he didn't know he needed.
She didn't say the things the others did.
But her magic screamed them.
Be careful.
Don't die.
I'm here.
And somehow…
I love you.
He froze.
Did she?
Do I?
—
Later, in the hideout, he found Finral.
He was sipping tea, flipping through a magazine full of girls in swimsuits.
Asta walked in, sword on his back, serious expression.
Finral looked up. "Uh-oh. You've got that face."
"What face?"
"The 'I'm gonna say something awkward and emotional' face."
"I do not—!"
Finral grinned. "Spill it."
Asta sat across from him, arms crossed.
"Hypothetically," he began, "if someone borrowed your magic… and felt your feelings through it… what would that mean?"
Finral blinked. "Okay… weird start. Keep going."
"Like… could magic carry emotions? Real ones?"
Finral set the magazine down, now listening for real.
"Well… mana's tied to your soul, right? So, yeah. Maybe. If the connection's strong enough."
Asta leaned forward. "What if I feel more from one person than anyone else?"
Finral smirked. "Let me guess. Silver-haired tsundere?"
Asta flushed. "I didn't say it was Noelle!"
"You didn't have to," Finral teased. "Everyone sees the way you light up around her."
Asta groaned. "I'm serious."
"So am I." Finral took a sip of tea. "You like the vibe she gives you."
Asta looked at the sword on his back.
"…What if it's just her feelings messing with mine?"
Finral shrugged. "So what?"
Asta blinked. "So what?"
"Feelings are feelings," Finral said. "Magic might carry them. But it can't create them. Not from nothing."
Asta stared at him.
"That warm feeling you keep chasing?" Finral smiled. "That's you, bud. You just didn't realize it yet."
—
That night, Asta trained alone again.
No sword.
Just punches. Kicks. Breathing.
He stared up at the moon between reps.
Everyone's feelings came through differently.
But only hers… made me feel like this.
His chest hurt.
In a good way.
Like something blooming too fast.
Too loud.
He whispered to the sky.
"…Noelle."
And for once, no yelling. No jokes.
Just the truth he was starting to face.
I think I'm in love with you.
—
Asta was avoiding her again.
Not on purpose at first.
He just didn't know what to say.
"Hey Noelle, I think your magic's in love with me and now I'm feeling things too."
Yeah.
That'd go over well.
So he trained.
Harder than usual.
Body in motion kept the thoughts quiet.
But not quiet enough.
—
She started noticing.
Of course she did.
"No one's asked me to team up in days," she muttered.
She found him behind the hideout one morning, covered in sweat, shirtless, mid-sit-up.
"Training alone again?" she asked.
He didn't stop. "Yeah."
"You usually ask me to help."
"I know."
A pause.
"…Why not now?"
He finally sat up.
Couldn't meet her eyes.
"I'm working on something specific."
Her frown deepened.
"Fine."
She turned on her heel.
Didn't argue.
Didn't yell.
That somehow felt worse.
—
Later that day, he talked to Liebe.
Sort of.
They were sitting on the roof, eating snacks.
Asta tossed a rice ball up and caught it. "Hey, Liebe."
"Yeah?"
"You ever feel something through my sword? Like… weird stuff?"
Liebe looked at him sideways. "Define weird."
"Like emotions."
Liebe shrugged. "I mean… yeah? When you pull in mana, there's a taste to it."
"A taste?"
"Yeah. Like… spicy, bitter, sweet."
Asta blinked. "That's… weirdly specific."
Liebe smirked. "You learn to tell people apart."
Asta hesitated.
"What about Noelle's?"
Liebe's eyes twitched. He didn't say anything for a second.
Then: "Hers is warm. Tingly. Like cinnamon tea."
Asta coughed. "C-cinnamon tea?"
"And it lingers," Liebe added, popping a dumpling into his mouth. "You walk around like a lovesick idiot for hours."
Asta blushed. "I do not—!"
Liebe shrugged. "Tell yourself that."
Asta groaned.
"I'm so screwed."
—
He tried to stay away.
Tried.
But his curiosity kept winning.
One afternoon, he found her by the lake.
Practicing again.
Armor spell flaring, water swirling.
She looked focused.
Beautiful, but focused.
He didn't say anything.
Just watched.
Then—he noticed something.
Her mana.
It was… trembling.
Not unstable.
Just off.
Like it was reacting to something.
He narrowed his eyes.
Closed his own.
Used Ki.
Let his senses stretch.
Heartbeat… fast.
Breathing… shallow.
Mana… fluttering.
Because I'm here?
She hadn't even seen him yet.
And still, her whole body was buzzing.
He stepped on a twig.
She jumped, nearly lost her footing.
"Asta?!"
"Sorry!"
He raised his hands. "Didn't mean to spook you."
She turned quickly, cheeks flushed. "I—I was just—! What are you doing here?!"
"Watching."
"Pervert."
"What?! No! I was watching your magic!"
She folded her arms, flustered. "You could've said something."
He scratched the back of his head. "Didn't wanna mess you up. You looked cool."
That shut her up.
For a second.
Then she muttered, "...Idiot."
He laughed, stepping closer. "Can I try something?"
"Try what?"
"Borrow your magic again."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"Just… for training."
A lie.
She stared at him.
Hard.
"...Fine."
She summoned a water orb, steady and bright.
He drew the Demon Dweller.
Touched it.
And there it was.
Warmth. Flooding his arm.
But deeper this time.
Images.
Not full memories, but flickers.
Noelle watching him train alone in the rain.
Her clutching her chest during battle.
Whispering to herself in bed.
Asta… don't get hurt.
I need you to be okay.
He gasped.
The sword trembled in his hands.
He almost dropped it.
Noelle's face turned pale. "What? What's wrong?!"
"I… saw something."
She blinked.
Then panic hit her eyes. "Saw… what?"
"I think your magic showed me your thoughts."
She went stone still.
"What thoughts?"
Asta hesitated.
He could lie.
Say it was blurry. Confusing.
But it wasn't.
He saw her.
Saw everything.
And he felt it.
All of it.
He looked up.
She wasn't yelling.
Wasn't turning red.
She looked terrified.
Like someone who just realized she'd been heard when she thought no one was listening.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I didn't mean to."
She turned away.
Said nothing.
"I just—your magic's different," he continued.
"I borrow from everyone. But you…"
He looked at his hand.
"It stays with me."
Noelle's shoulders were shaking.
Then—barely a whisper—
"…You weren't supposed to know."
He stepped closer.
Her back still to him.
"…Why?"
"Because you're you," she said quickly. "You're dense. You don't notice stuff. I could live with that."
He winced.
"But now you do know," she said, turning back. "So go ahead. Laugh. Say it's weird. Say it's pathetic."
"I'm not gonna laugh."
"You're not supposed to feel it!"
"I do."
That shut her up again.
"I feel it, Noelle," he said, softer this time. "Every time."
"You care about me."
"You're scared for me."
"You believe in me."
She clenched her fists. "So what?! It's not like I—"
"Love me?"
Her mouth fell open.
He blinked.
Did I just say that?
She turned bright red.
"I—I never said that!"
"I know. But your magic did."
She looked like she might explode.
And cry.
And run.
All at once.
Asta's voice was quieter now.
"I don't know what's mine and what's yours anymore."
"But when I borrow from you… it feels like home."
She didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Just looked at him.
And for once, all the walls she built…
Weren't there.
He stepped even closer.
So close he could see the tiny drop of water clinging to her lashes.
"I'm not scared of your feelings, Noelle."
"…Then what are you scared of?" she whispered.
He exhaled.
"My own."
—
Asta stayed away after that.
This time, it was on purpose.
He needed space.
To think.
To breathe.
To figure out what was real and what was just… magic.
—
He kept training, but it wasn't the same.
His body moved, but his heart lagged behind.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
That look on her face.
That tiny shake in her voice.
"What are you scared of?"
"My own."
He meant it.
Still did.
But that didn't make it any easier.
—
He tried borrowing from others again.
Yuno.
Vanessa.
Even Gauche—who screamed at him for touching Marie's hair by mistake.
But none of it worked.
Their mana didn't stick.
Their emotions didn't sink in.
They came and went like wind through an open door.
But hers?
Hers lingered.
Like a hand on his chest.
A hug around his spine.
A whisper in his ear.
It scared him.
Not because it hurt.
Because it didn't.
Because it felt good.
—
In the common room, he sat on the couch alone, sword across his lap.
Finral passed by and didn't say anything.
Just gave him that look.
Like oh no, it's worse now.
Even Magna noticed.
"You sick or something?"
"Nah."
"Heartbroken?"
Asta didn't answer.
Magna walked off muttering, "Kids these days…"
—
Noelle noticed too.
Of course she did.
She was quiet around him.
Not angry.
Just… distant.
Like she was holding her breath every time they were near each other.
It made everything worse.
He wanted to talk to her.
He really did.
But he didn't know what he'd say.
"I don't know if I love you or if your magic made me think I do."
Yeah.
Real smooth.
—
It hit a peak during a mission.
A real bad one.
Bandits. Rogue mages.
Civilians caught in the crossfire.
Their squad was split.
For people like them, even with such odds, such a mission should've been a breeze.
But Asta was out of it.
Unfocused.
Not sharp enough.
A liability on the field.
Asta was with Luck and Charmy.
Noelle was somewhere else.
He kept checking.
Kept scanning for her mana.
It wasn't near.
Not close enough.
Why isn't she with us?
Why does that scare me?
—
Luck got hit.
Charmy was pinned.
Asta stood his ground, sword in hand, barely breathing.
The enemy circled like wolves.
He could win.
Maybe.
He definitely should've won, but with his current emotions in disarray and his heart out of sync with his partner…
Devil Union wouldn't work.
Neither did his Black form for some reason.
Asta needed an alternative.
He needed a boost.
Mana.
Any mana.
He called out to Luck. "Lend me something!"
Luck flung a charge.
It helped—but not enough.
He turned to Charmy. "You okay?"
She grunted. "Use my sheep if you have to!"
He reached for her magic.
Tasted it.
Warm, but wrong.
Not her.
Not the one he needed.
Not what his soul was screaming for.
—
Then—
Like lightning through his bones—
He felt it.
Noelle's mana.
Racing toward him like a tidal wave.
Fast. Wild. Desperate.
His head snapped up.
She burst into the clearing, magic already flaring.
No Valkyrie dress.
It seemed he wasn't the only one off his game.
Noelle screamed.
"Asta!!"
He didn't hesitate.
Held out the Demon Dweller.
She understood.
Didn't even speak.
Just sent a torrent of her magic straight into the blade.
It hit him like a flood.
And this time—
He didn't resist it.
—
Everything snapped into focus.
Power roared through him.
Not just hers.
Theirs.
The connection.
The truth.
You're not alone.
I'm here.
I want you to live.
I want you.
His heart stuttered.
Then soared.
He swung the sword.
One arc.
One wave.
The entire field exploded in water and anti-magic.
The enemies were down before they could blink.
Noelle landed beside him, panting.
He dropped to one knee.
Not from pain.
From the weight of what he finally understood.
He loved her.
No sword. No spells. No borrowing.
Just him.
Just Asta.
—
After the mission, they sat near the fire.
She didn't talk.
Neither did he.
The silence wasn't angry.
It was full.
He turned to her.
She avoided his gaze.
"Sorry."
She flinched. "For what?"
"For pushing you away."
"You didn't—"
"I did."
She looked at him then.
Really looked.
He smiled softly. "It scared me."
"…Me too."
"But when I borrowed your magic out there…" he paused. "I didn't just feel your heart."
He touched his chest.
"I felt mine."
Noelle stared, eyes wide.
Asta chuckled.
"Guess that means I'm just as much of a mess as you."
"…Idiot."
But her voice was shaking.
And her hands were trembling.
And when he reached out…
She didn't pull away.
—
Asta couldn't stop thinking about it.
The way her magic felt.
The way he felt.
It used to be confusing.
Now it was just terrifying.
Because he finally knew.
And he had no clue what to do with that.
—
He avoided the sword for days.
Didn't summon it.
Didn't borrow anyone's mana.
Didn't want to.
He needed to sort out what was real.
What was his.
And the only way to do that…
Was to face her without it.
No magic. No shortcuts. Just… words.
He hated that.
Words were hard.
Swords were easier.
—
Noelle hadn't spoken to him since the mission.
She wasn't mad.
Just tense.
Guarded again.
He caught her practicing by herself every day.
No more shared spells.
No more teasing.
No more awkward silences filled with maybe.
Just her. Alone. Again.
It hurt to watch.
But he deserved it.
—
Finral finally shoved him.
Literally.
"You're gonna die if you don't talk to her."
Asta grunted. "I'm not—"
"She thinks you're avoiding her again."
"I'm not! I'm—thinking."
"Oh great. That always ends well."
Asta rolled his eyes. "It's serious."
Finral raised an eyebrow. "You're in love with her."
Asta froze.
His silence said it all.
"…You poor dumb musclehead," Finral muttered, patting him on the back. "Go fix it."
—
He found her behind the hideout.
Same lake.
Same rocks.
Same armor spell glowing softly around her.
It was like nothing had changed.
And everything had.
"Noelle."
She didn't turn.
"Training."
"I can see that."
"…Go away."
"No."
Her hand clenched.
"I'm not in the mood for sparring."
"I'm not here to spar."
She turned then. Slowly.
Her eyes were tired.
Not red. Not puffy.
Just… done.
"…What?"
He stepped forward.
No sword on his back.
No jokes.
Just him.
"I need to tell you something."
Noelle tensed. "If it's about the other day—"
"It is."
"I already know. You don't have to say—"
"I do."
His voice cracked.
She shut up.
"I've been borrowing your magic for weeks."
"I know."
"Lying about why."
"I know."
"Because it felt different."
"We've had this conversation before."
"Then let's have it again."
She looked away.
He didn't stop.
"I thought it was just strong. Or easy to control. Or familiar."
"But it's not."
"It's you."
That got her.
She turned back.
Eyes wide.
Breathing shallow.
Asta stepped closer.
"I felt your fear. Your pride. Your faith in me."
"And something else."
Noelle's throat bobbed.
She didn't speak.
"You care about me."
"…You shouldn't know that."
"I do."
"Because of magic," she snapped.
"Because of you," he said.
"I didn't want you to find out like that!"
"I know."
She clenched her fists.
"I didn't choose this!"
"I didn't either."
Silence.
Then, softer—
"But I'm glad I know."
Her eyes flicked up.
"Because I felt it too."
"…What?"
"I didn't just feel your feelings."
"I found mine."
Noelle blinked fast.
"I tried to ignore it," Asta said. "Tried to say it was just mana, just side effects."
"But it wasn't."
"It was me."
"I like you."
Her breath hitched.
"I… I don't want to be some crush."
"You're not."
"I don't want to be a distraction."
"You're not."
"I'm not soft, or cute, or easy to love like—like—"
"You're strong."
He stepped even closer.
"You're stubborn. Brave. A little scary sometimes."
She flinched.
"And you're beautiful."
Now she looked like she might explode.
"Stop talking."
"I can't."
"You have to!"
"Why?"
"Because if you say one more thing I'll—!"
"You'll what?"
She stared at him.
Chest rising.
Eyes wild.
Then she snapped.
"Fine! If you saw everything, then say it outright!"
Asta blinked.
"What?"
"You heard my magic whispering, didn't you?!"
"You felt it, didn't you?!"
"Then say it!"
He stared at her.
Then grinned.
"Your magic's the strongest."
She froze.
"Just like you."
He took her hand.
Her fingers twitched.
"And I wanna keep feeling it."
He stepped closer.
"With you."
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Then she squeaked, "D-dummy!"
"Yeah."
"You can't just—just steal a royal's heart!"
"I didn't steal it."
"I lent you my magic!"
"And I gave it back."
He leaned in, just enough to bump her forehead with his.
"But I'm keeping the feelings."
She was redder than a volcano.
Shaking like a leaf.
But she didn't pull away.
She didn't run.
And when he held her hand tighter…
She squeezed back.
—
It didn't change overnight.
Not really.
But it changed.
Little things.
Soft things.
Real things.
And Asta noticed all of them.
—
Noelle didn't yell as much.
She still got mad.
Still called him names.
But her voice was different.
Not sharp.
Just… flustered.
And her eyes?
They never held anger anymore.
Only fire.
And something warmer underneath it.
—
He didn't hide anymore.
Didn't make excuses to borrow her magic.
Didn't pretend it was about training.
If he needed her, he asked.
If he missed her, he found her.
If he wanted to be near her, he just was.
It felt good.
Honest.
Like breathing after holding it for too long.
—
The sword was different too.
The Demon Dweller used to feel like a tool.
A weapon.
Now it felt like a link.
When he pulled in her mana, it didn't crash into him like before.
It settled.
Like her magic recognized him.
Welcomed him.
Like it belonged.
—
He stopped wondering if her feelings had made him fall for her.
He knew better now.
It was never just magic.
It was her.
Her voice when she believed in him.
Her fists when she punched him in the arm too hard.
Her silence when she was scared and didn't want him to know.
The little things.
The big ones.
All of her.
—
Sometimes, he'd catch her looking at him.
Not with anger.
Not with panic.
Just… looking.
And when he looked back, she'd roll her eyes.
Then glance again.
Then blush.
And he'd laugh.
Every time.
—
One morning, she stood beside him before a mission.
No one else had shown up yet.
She didn't speak.
Just stood there, arms crossed.
Armor spell flickering around her like a heartbeat.
He glanced sideways.
"You good?"
"…You need my magic?"
He smiled.
"Nah."
"…Then why are you standing so close?"
He grinned wider.
"Because I want to."
She flushed instantly.
"Asta—!"
"But if you want to lend me your magic—"
"I didn't say that!"
He raised the sword anyway.
She groaned.
But when she pressed her hand to the flat of the blade—
Her mana flowed freely.
Steady.
Calm.
Familiar.
It sank into him like light through stained glass.
And underneath it, her voice in his chest—
"Don't die, dummy."
"I won't."
—
After that mission, he didn't let go of her hand right away.
She didn't pull away, either.
Their gloves were off.
Fingers interlocked.
Their mana buzzed faintly between them.
Not from the sword.
Not from combat.
Just… from touch.
Even without a spell, their magic reached for each other.
Reacted.
Responded.
Fused.
—
They didn't talk about it much.
Didn't need to.
He felt her.
She felt him.
That was enough.
Words came when they wanted.
Not because they had to.
—
Gordon called it "emotional resonance."
Vanessa called it "finally."
Magna called it "gross."
Yami didn't say a word.
Just looked between them, grunted, and walked off to smoke.
Asta counted that as approval.
—
One evening, they sat on the roof of the hideout.
No missions.
No yelling.
Just stars.
She leaned on his shoulder.
Didn't say a word.
He let her.
Then quietly asked, "You ever think about the first time I borrowed your magic?"
She scoffed. "Which time? You've been freeloading forever."
"The first time, way back during our first dungeon raid, it felt… different."
Noelle didn't answer right away.
Then, softly—
"…It always felt different to me."
He blinked.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
She muttered, "Because I didn't know what it meant."
Asta tilted his head.
"And now?"
She looked up at him.
Then down at their hands.
Then back at the stars.
Now… her smile was small.
But real.
"I'm glad you felt it too."
He smiled back.
"I'm glad I didn't miss it."
They didn't kiss.
Not yet.
But their foreheads touched.
Their fingers curled tighter.
And their mana hummed quietly between them.
No sword needed.
No battle.
Just them.
Just this.
The end of one story.
The start of another.
Together.