Prompt: Request from Moonlightabyss on Asta having the misunderstanding Noelle and Yuno attended a royal ball together.
—
The ballroom gleamed like a dream Asta didn't remember having.
Golden chandeliers swung gently above him, casting soft light across marble floors and violet velvet banners. Nobles dressed in silks and silver strolled beneath floating lights, chatting in melodic tones that barely sounded real.
He stood near the edge of the room, half-shadowed behind an ornamental column.
This is supposed to be a celebration… so why can't I smile?
He shifted uncomfortably in his formal uniform—a newly tailored ensemble that bore the crest of the Magic Knights and the seal of the royal court. Exonerated and a Grand Magic Knight, finally.
He thought it would feel better.
A trumpet flared. People clapped.
Yuno stepped into the room, calm and effortless. Regal.
The murmurs rose instantly. There he is. The Spade Prince. The youngest Captain. Future Wizard King.
Asta didn't need to look. He knew the sound of admiration when he heard it.
But he looked anyway.
Yuno carried himself like the applause belonged to someone else. Chin lifted, eyes distant, no hint of arrogance.
And beside him—Noelle.
Asta's breath caught before he could stop it.
She was dressed in soft sapphire, a color that somehow made her silver hair glow. Her back was straight, posture proud, but her eyes… her eyes were bright. Unburdened.
She was laughing.
With Yuno.
Asta felt something curl in his stomach. Tight. Unfamiliar.
He blinked, trying to make sense of it. Noelle didn't laugh like that. Not often. Not around him.
She always called him names. Yelled. Blushed. Hit him when he said something stupid.
But now she was smiling—really smiling—like everything they've been through, all those bruises with death, their trials and tribulations were just that. The past.
Now all that mattered was herr and Yuno.
Asta looked away.
What the hell is this feeling?
The music shifted to a waltz. Couples began to dance.
Asta stayed behind the column.
He hated how heavy his chest felt. Like the adrenaline of battle, but twisted, tangled with something ugly.
Jealousy?
He almost laughed at the thought. Him? Jealous of Yuno?
Never.
Not when Yuno got the four-leaf grimoire while he nearly got nothing.
Not when Yuno was chosen by Sylph and mana while he didn't get a single drop.
Not when Yuno was made vice-captain while he was exiled for crimes he didn't commit.
Not when Yuno was made a Grand Magic Knight immediately after Spade while he had to wait over a year just to get the Senior rank.
Not when Yuno had become a captain while just now got his name cleared.
Or even now when Yuno was being speculated as the next Wizard King and while Asta just became a Grand Magic Knight.
He had always been proud of Yuno. Even when it stung.
But now…
He peeked again.
Yuno leaned closer, saying something Asta couldn't hear. Noelle laughed again, brushing her fingers through her hair. Her eyes sparkled. She looked…
Happy.
Asta's fingers clenched around the wine glass in his hand.
Is this really happening?
He told himself to stop staring. But his feet stayed rooted. His eyes kept drifting back.
All around him, nobles gushed. Whispered. Speculated.
They look so perfect together.
The Spade Prince and the Silver Heiress. What a pair.
She'll make a beautiful queen when he becomes Wizard King.
Asta's jaw tightened.
He set his untouched drink on a tray and stepped away from the column.
A servant smiled politely. He didn't notice.
He wandered the edge of the ballroom, trying to find something—anything—to distract him.
He nodded to Fuegoleon. Exchanged brief words with Rill. Even smiled at a noblewoman who complimented his "charmingly rustic" accent.
But the warmth in his chest never came.
It stayed cold. Sharp.
His eyes kept drifting back.
Why him?
He hated himself for thinking it.
Yuno wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just… existing. Talking to Noelle. Being himself.
Asta rubbed his lower pecs. The scar there—gifted by Mars all those years back—itched under his shirt.
I fought with everything I had. I bled for this kingdom. For her. For all of them.
But in this moment, with laughter echoing like bells and music swirling like smoke, none of it seemed to matter.
He was just a boy in a room full of stars.
And the one star he couldn't stop looking at was shining for someone else.
He closed his eyes.
Tch. Get it together.
Asta drew a breath, deep and sharp.
This wasn't a battlefield. There were no swords to swing, no fists to throw. Just feelings—messy, confusing, unbearable feelings.
He opened his eyes again.
Yuno said something to Noelle. She nodded, smiling. Then he turned and began walking away.
Asta's heart skipped.
He's leaving her alone.
He didn't think. He just moved.
Step after step, dodging past dancers, brushing against coats and gowns.
Noelle stood at the center of the floor, near the refreshment table, cradling a glass of sparkling wine. Her smile lingered, soft and wistful.
Asta slowed as he approached.
Her head turned. Her eyes widened slightly.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then she blinked. "Asta?"
He looked into her eyes.
So many things wanted to tumble out at once. Accusations. Questions. Confessions.
But all he said was, "You look… amazing."
Noelle flushed, instantly on guard. "W-What's that supposed to mean, idiot?!"
Asta smiled—barely.
There she was. The Noelle he knew.
But the ache in his chest didn't fade.
Why did you reject me? Was it really because of him?
He swallowed hard.
This wasn't the time. He had no proof. No answers.
Only feelings.
He looked around. The music swelled. People danced and spun and laughed.
And in the middle of it all, he stood facing the girl he loved.
Maybe it was foolish.
Maybe it would end badly.
But he couldn't walk away again.
Not without trying.
Not this time.
—
Asta didn't speak.
Not at first.
Noelle tilted her head, frowning. "Are you… okay?"
He nodded too quickly. "Yeah. Just—just needed some air."
They were still indoors.
Noelle raised an eyebrow. "From across the ballroom to right in front of me?"
Asta scratched the back of his head, flustered. "I mean—uh—you were by the drinks table, and I was thirsty."
His hand was empty. No glass. No drink.
Noelle stared at him.
Asta chuckled, low and awkward. "Okay, that came out weird."
Noelle sighed. But it wasn't her usual huff of irritation. It was soft. Tired.
"Tonight's exhausting," she said quietly, glancing at the chandeliers.
Asta blinked. "Yeah. Guess it is."
They stood in silence for a moment, both watching the glittering mess of nobles and knights twirl past.
Then Noelle asked, "Have you seen Yuno?"
Asta's throat closed.
He tried to answer, but the words stuck like splinters.
Of course she'd ask about him. Yuno had just walked off, and she'd been smiling—smiling—with him for almost an hour.
Asta shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. He went that way."
Noelle looked, then nodded. "Right. Thanks."
She didn't move to follow. Just stood there, swirling her drink.
Asta glanced sideways at her.
The faint blush on her cheeks. The way her fingers traced the rim of the glass. The way her lips curved when she wasn't guarding herself.
He'd never noticed those things before.
Not like this.
Not until now.
Why now?
Maybe because he knew what he felt.
Because just a few days ago, he'd said it out loud—to someone else—for the first time.
I think I love her.
The memory hit him like a slap.
—
They were in the Black Bulls' common room. The war was over. Judgment Day had ended. The kingdom was still rebuilding.
He had been sitting between Finral and Vanessa, both nursing cheap beer, while Nero floated nearby on a stack of books.
The night had been quiet, the fire crackling low.
Vanessa had nudged him. "So? Anyone special?"
Asta had laughed. "Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
Nero had landed beside him. "She means Noelle."
Finral choked on his drink. "Seriously?"
Vanessa smirked. "Oh come on. Everyone's known for years. You're the only idiot who hasn't noticed."
Asta had turned red. "I—I don't—!"
But the words wouldn't come.
Because suddenly, he had noticed.
All of it.
Every moment she protected him. Every time she yelled to cover her embarrassment. Every second she stood by him through exile, war, trial.
Every tear she shed when she thought he wouldn't come back.
He looked down at his hands that night.
"I think I love her," he had whispered.
No one laughed.
Not even Finral.
Vanessa just leaned back, smiling. "Took you long enough."
—
Back in the present, Asta clenched his jaw.
He'd worked up the nerve. He'd asked Noelle to the ball the next day.
And she said no.
No explanation.
Just a polite decline and a mumbled, "I already have an escort."
He had smiled through it. Laughed, even. Said, "No worries!" like it didn't matter.
But it did.
It crushed him.
Because the first thing he thought—the first name that came to mind—was Yuno.
Of course she chose him. Why wouldn't she?
Asta's grip on his sleeve tightened.
He didn't have magic. Or nobility. Or a kingdom of his own.
What did he have, really?
A devil's power. A tainted grimoire. And a reputation that only just got cleaned up.
Why would she pick me over him?
He looked over again, scanning the ballroom.
Yuno was gone.
But the whispers remained.
He caught snatches of conversation from passing nobles.
"She fits perfectly by his side."
"They were laughing together earlier. Did you see?"
"She's not just a war hero—she's nobility. She should be his queen."
Queen.
The word made his stomach churn.
Noelle? A queen?
It wasn't the idea that bothered him—it was the reason.
Because of status. Because of expectation. Because she and Yuno looked right together.
Not because it was what she wanted.
Asta stared down at the floor.
The marble reflected a distorted version of himself. Small. Out of place. Dull next to the lights.
He hated that feeling.
Not because he needed the spotlight.
But because he wanted to stand next to her.
As himself.
Not as a symbol. Not as a token of survival. Just… Asta.
Noelle said something under her breath. He didn't catch it.
He looked up.
"What?"
She blinked. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
She didn't meet his eyes.
Asta studied her face. The faint crease in her brow. The way her grip on the glass had tightened.
She's nervous.
Why?
Then the worst thought of all hit him.
Is she nervous because she doesn't want to hurt Yuno's feelings?
His heart sank.
Maybe she does like me.
But she already made a choice.
He bit his lip, glancing at the path Yuno had taken.
His brother had given him so much.
Guidance. Competition. A goal to chase.
But now…
Now it felt like they were running toward the same finish line.
And Asta didn't know if he was fast enough this time.
He took a step back.
Noelle blinked. "Where are you going?"
Asta forced a grin. "I just remembered—I promised to greet a few of the nobles from Raque."
"Alone?" she asked.
Asta shrugged. "You've got plenty of company. Right?"
She looked confused. "I—I guess?"
He nodded. "Cool. See you later then."
And just like that, he walked away.
But as he moved through the crowd, as the music swirled and people danced and lights shimmered around him—
The pit in his chest grew deeper.
He wasn't sure if it was heartbreak.
But it sure as hell wasn't hope.
—
He didn't go to the nobles from Raque.
He just wandered.
Past glittering gowns and polished armor.
Past toasts and laughter and spinning chandeliers.
He didn't even know where he was going until he found himself on one of the upper balconies.
The ballroom music was muffled out here.
The night air was cold, but not sharp.
He leaned against the railing, arms folded, eyes locked on the distant lights of the city below.
Why did I ask her at all?
He already knew the answer.
Because he was ready.
Because for the first time in his life, he actually wanted something that didn't involve saving the world.
He wanted her.
—
It had been Nero who first said the word.
Love.
He'd laughed when she did.
But she hadn't been joking.
They were in the woods, just outside the Black Bulls' hideout. Training, mostly. Blowing off steam.
Yami had disappeared again.
Asta had been panting from a few sets of pushups when Nero landed on his head.
He flinched. "Hey!"
"You're distracted," she said bluntly.
"No, I'm not!"
"You're thinking about Noelle."
He sat up too fast. "Wha—!? I am not! She's just—she's my teammate!"
Nero stared at him like he was stupid.
Then she flew off, muttering, "You're hopeless."
—
He had been distracted.
Noelle had been different since the war ended.
Not in a bad way.
Just… quieter. Less guarded.
She didn't snap at him like before. Not as often, anyway.
She smiled more.
She still called him an idiot sometimes—but her voice wasn't sharp anymore. It was soft.
Teasing.
She'd stand closer now, too.
Her arm would brush his when they walked.
Her eyes lingered when he talked.
And once—just once—he swore she was about to say something important.
They were alone, overlooking the river at night.
He said something dumb. Something about fish.
And she had laughed. A real, full laugh.
Then she looked at him with this… look.
Like she was about to tell him everything she'd been holding back.
But she never did.
She turned away and said she was cold.
And that was the end of that.
—
Asta closed his eyes against the wind.
I should've said something then.
But he hadn't.
Because he'd been afraid.
Not of rejection. Not really.
He was used to that. Sister Lily had been clear a long time ago.
What scared him now was the idea that Noelle might feel something… and he'd mess it up.
That maybe she was still figuring it out herself.
That if he said the wrong thing, she'd go back to hiding behind her pride again.
So he waited.
Too long.
—
Three days before the ball, he finally broke.
He was in the Black Bulls' common room again. Late evening.
Vanessa was drinking tea. Finral was flipping through a letter from Finesse. Nero was reading something thick and ancient.
Asta had been pacing.
Vanessa was the first to call him out.
"Alright, spit it out."
He stopped mid-step. "Huh?"
"You've walked the same path like thirty times."
Nero didn't look up. "He's going to ask Noelle."
Finral dropped his letter. "You're asking Noelle to the Royal Ball!?"
Asta turned red instantly. "Shhh!!"
But it was too late.
Gauche leaned out from the hall. "You're asking Noelle!?"
Grey squeaked from behind a couch.
Even Charmy poked her head out of the kitchen.
Asta threw his arms up. "Okay, yes! Yes, I was planning to!"
Vanessa raised a brow. "Was?"
"I mean… I don't know. What if she says no?"
Nero gave him a flat look. "You've fought gods. You can't handle that?"
"I just… don't want to make things weird."
Finral patted his shoulder. "Trust me, you'll regret it more if you don't ask."
Asta took a deep breath.
Nodded.
Then marched off to find her.
She was in the garden behind the castle.
He found her standing alone near the edge, arms crossed, staring up at the stars.
She didn't hear him approach.
"Noelle."
She turned. "Asta?"
"I—uh—hey."
She tilted her head. "You okay?"
He scratched his cheek. "I was wondering… if maybe… you'd want to go to the Royal Ball with me?"
It came out fast. Rushed. A little shaky.
Noelle blinked.
Then looked away.
Her silence lasted longer than he expected.
Then came her answer.
"I already have an escort."
That was all she said.
No explanation. No name.
Just that.
Asta had nodded. Smiled. Joked something about getting beat to the punch.
Then left.
—
Now, leaning against the railing, Asta ran a hand through his hair.
She already had an escort.
That's what she said.
And the way she'd been laughing with Yuno tonight…
The way she looked at him.
It all added up.
Didn't it?
She chose him.
And Asta couldn't even blame her.
Yuno was strong. Reliable. Elegant in a way Asta would never be.
He didn't talk too loud or trip over his own boots or wave his arms when he was excited.
He was calm. Confident.
People looked at Yuno and saw a king.
People looked at Asta and saw a fluke.
A lucky underdog.
A rebel.
An exception.
He gripped the railing tighter.
Maybe that's all I ever was.
He wanted to hit something.
Not Yuno. Never Yuno.
But the feeling kept gnawing at his insides anyway.
This isn't about rank.
It's not about strength.
It's about her.
And maybe… just maybe… he was too late.
—
He didn't know how long he'd been out there.
Long enough for his fingers to go numb on the railing.
Long enough for the night wind to start biting through his dress uniform.
Long enough to pretend the cold was the reason his chest felt so tight.
Eventually, he went back in.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he had to.
He was the Hero of the Final War. The Demon Slayer. The Devil Union Knight. The guy who cut down Lucius.
People noticed when he wasn't in the room.
And besides… if he left now, they'd just talk even more.
—
So he walked back in.
Head up.
Back straight.
Smile—faint, but there.
It felt fake on his face.
He didn't care.
The ballroom hadn't changed.
Still shining. Still too loud. Still full of faces he barely recognized.
His eyes moved automatically.
Yuno.
Noelle.
They were standing near a marble column now.
Together. Again.
Still talking.
Still smiling.
Still so damn comfortable.
He forced his gaze away.
—
He ended up near a cluster of nobles.
No idea who they were.
Names that didn't matter. Faces he couldn't place.
But he heard what they said.
They weren't exactly whispering.
"Have you seen Lady Noelle tonight? Absolutely stunning."
"She and Captain Yuno make quite the pair, don't they?"
"Oh, it's obvious. He's going to be the next Wizard King. And she's the ideal queen."
"They'd be the perfect couple. Royal, powerful, beautiful…"
The rumors from before erupted all over again.
And neither Yuno nor Noelle shot them down.
Perfect.
—
Asta clenched his jaw.
He turned before they could see his expression.
Made his way to the refreshment table.
Didn't drink anything.
Just stared at the crystal glasses, like they'd offer him answers.
Perfect couple.
That shouldn't hurt as much as it did.
But the more he thought about it… the more it burned.
Yuno was royalty.
Noelle was royalty.
Yuno was a captain.
Noelle was practically the face of the Clover Kingdom's nobility after Judgment Day.
Yuno had never lost a fight that mattered.
Asta had been exiled.
Of course they'd look good together.
Of course people would talk.
Of course… she chose him.
—
He gripped the edge of the table.
Felt it shake under his hand.
He let go before he cracked the damn thing in half.
—
Yuno stepped away.
Again.
Just like that.
Walked off toward the far end of the ballroom, silent and sharp as always.
Noelle stayed behind.
Now she was alone.
Again.
Asta's heart jumped.
Then dropped again.
Don't.
He told himself not to.
Told himself this wasn't the time. That she already had someone.
That he'd be making a scene.
But then he saw another noble turning toward her.
Someone else moving in.
And suddenly—no.
No.
He couldn't just stand there.
He wasn't going to lose her too.
—
His legs moved before he made the decision.
Steps loud against the marble floor.
Eyes turning.
He didn't care.
The noise in his chest was louder than the music.
Louder than the conversations, the laughter, the clinking of glasses.
He didn't even register the whispers until he was halfway across the floor.
"That's the peasent boy, isn't it?"
"The devil host…"
"Wasn't he the one exiled last year?"
Let them talk.
Let them whisper and sneer and speculate.
He didn't care about any of them.
Only one person in this whole ballroom mattered.
—
Noelle turned just as he reached her.
She looked startled.
Not scared. Not upset.
Just… surprised.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Tried to find the words without his voice cracking.
Tried to make his heart shut up for just one damn second.
But it wouldn't.
So he just said it.
—
"Lady Noelle Silva."
He bowed.
Low.
Lower than he ever had for anyone.
His voice was rough. Unsteady.
"I request permission to court you."
The music didn't stop, but the room did.
Everything froze.
Chairs scraped. Gowns rustled. Gasps rippled like wind through leaves.
Asta didn't hear any of it.
He only saw her.
—
Noelle's eyes went wide.
Her face turned red so fast it was like someone set it on fire.
She opened her mouth.
Then shut it.
Then opened it again.
"I—what—"
She looked around.
People were staring.
Asta felt every inch of it.
Every eye. Every breath.
But he stood tall.
Even when his hands trembled at his sides.
Even when the silence dragged.
Finally, she spoke.
"…You idiot."
It was almost a whisper.
Then she took a breath.
Steeled herself.
And nodded.
Tiny.
Shaky.
But real.
"Yes."
—
His heart stopped.
For half a second, he thought he misheard.
But the look in her eyes—nervous, flustered, soft—told him he didn't.
He smiled.
It wasn't forced this time.
It split across his face like light breaking through clouds.
Then it faltered.
Because—
He remembered.
—
He leaned in closer.
Voice low.
"You said you already had an escort."
She blinked.
Then laughed.
Short. Bright. Completely exasperated.
She smacked his arm.
"Nozel was my escort, you idiot!"
Asta froze.
"…Nozel?"
"My brother," she deadpanned.
"…The captain?"
"Yes, the Captain of the Silver Eagles, Asta."
He blinked.
His brain went quiet.
Like someone had just yanked the grimoire chain inside his skull.
"You showed up with Nozel?"
"He insisted," she muttered. "Said it'd be improper for me to show up alone."
"Is that why he looked like he wanted to murder me when I stood up?"
"Probably."
Asta groaned, covering his face.
"I thought you rejected me for Yuno."
"I didn't reject you," she said. "I just had plans."
"With your brother."
"Yes."
"And you and Yuno—"
"Were talking about his crush."
He froze again.
"…What."
Noelle smirked now.
Resting her chin in her hand, gaze smug.
"You think Yuno and I were flirting?"
"Weren't you?!"
"We were strategizing."
"…Strategizing what?"
"His confession."
Asta blinked.
"Confession to…?"
Noelle pointed across the ballroom with a single, dainty finger.
He followed her gaze.
And there he was.
Yuno.
Standing in front of a girl in a soft peach gown.
Standing in front of Mimosa.
Saying something quiet.
His usual deadpan expression actually… nervous?
She was nervously fidgeting with her hands.
Asta's jaw dropped.
Yuno took her hand.
Spoke softly.
Mimosa's face flushed pink.
Then brighter.
Then she nodded.
Yuno smiled.
Not his usual cold smirk.
Something small. Soft.
Real.
Asta gawked.
"I—I was gonna fight him for you."
"Well, that would've been pointless," Noelle muttered.
Asta continued to stare.
Mouth open.
Mind blank.
Yuno... likes Mimosa?
I almost declared war on my brother over a misunderstanding.
—
He groaned into his hands.
Noelle laughed again.
Then grabbed his sleeve.
"You better ask me to dance now."
Her face was still red.
But her voice didn't waver.
Neither did her hand.
Asta blinked.
Then laughed, loud and breathless.
"…Yes, ma'am."
—
It had started as a blur.
Now it was a spotlight.
Every eye in the ballroom was still on them.
Some people whispered.
Some just stared.
A few were already whispering behind lace fans and gloved hands, lips twitching with gossip and confusion.
Asta felt like he'd stepped into a dream.
No—a firestorm.
He'd shouted in a royal ballroom.
In front of nobles, captains, the King, and Julius—wherever the hell he was hiding.
All for one answer.
Yes.
—
He could still hear it.
Small.
Almost shy.
But definite.
"Yes."
Noelle Silva had said yes.
To him.
Not to Yuno.
Not to some noble from House this or House that.
Not to some future Wizard King or charming mage prince.
Just—him.
Asta.
The idiot with no mana, a scarred face, and a grimoire full of rage and curses.
And she'd said yes.
—
He didn't realize he was still holding his breath until Noelle gave his sleeve a tug.
"Oi. You gonna stand there like a statue or what?"
Her voice was sharp.
Her face was crimson.
Eyes darting everywhere but at him.
Asta blinked.
Then smiled, sheepish.
"…Right."
—
He turned.
Faced the room.
It was quiet now.
Not completely silent—but hushed.
Waiting.
He could feel it—tension crawling up his spine.
People still didn't get it.
Some were confused.
Some thought it was a joke.
Some were just scandalized that a magicless peasant had dared raise his voice at a royal gathering—let alone confess to a noblewoman in public.
Asta raised his chin.
Let them look.
Let them judge.
He hadn't trained his whole life, fought devils and kings, died and come back from hell just to live quietly.
He turned to Noelle again.
She was watching him now.
No hiding.
Her silver eyes were wide—but steady.
Ready.
—
He stepped forward.
Dropped to one knee.
Again.
Louder this time.
Clearer.
So there'd be no doubt.
"Noelle Silva," he said.
"Will you honor me with the next dance?"
A pause.
Then he added, a little softer—
"…And maybe the one after that, too."
—
She stared.
Her lips trembled.
Then she snorted.
A real, unladylike, utterly Noelle snort.
"You absolute moron," she muttered.
But her smile broke through anyway.
Big.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
And kind of the best thing he'd ever seen.
She gave a stiff, exaggerated curtsy.
"As long as you don't step on my toes."
—
He stood.
Offered his hand.
She took it.
Their fingers laced together with surprising ease.
Her palm was warm.
Her grip was strong.
Asta's heart was beating so loud he could feel it in his teeth.
—
The musicians scrambled to recover.
One of them gave a nod.
A soft waltz began.
People started moving again—awkwardly, like a spell had been broken.
But the center of the room was still theirs.
Asta didn't know the steps.
Didn't care.
He led anyway.
Noelle followed, her movements sharp but graceful.
She didn't complain when he stumbled.
Didn't flinch when he accidentally brushed her waist.
Just squeezed his hand.
And when she looked up at him—
Everything else disappeared.
—
He didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
Didn't know what the kingdom would say, or how the nobility would react.
Didn't know what came after this.
But right now?
He didn't care.
Because Noelle was in his arms.
And she was smiling.
At him.
And for the first time all night…
Asta smiled back.
Real. Bright. Unstoppable.
Let them talk.
This was worth it.
—
They'd been dancing for a while now.
The music had changed twice.
Asta hadn't noticed.
He didn't know if his feet were floating or if his brain had finally stopped functioning.
He just knew one thing:
Noelle said yes.
—
Every time he glanced down, she was still there.
Still holding his hand.
Still meeting his gaze with flushed cheeks and awkward, fluttery eye contact.
It didn't feel real.
He half expected to wake up in a hospital bed with Mimosa over him and Finral crying in a corner.
But no—this was real.
She chose me.
—
As they danced Asta couldn't hide his curiosity.
Something still weighed heavily on his chest.
"What was so funny anyway?" He tried to probe gently.
Noelle cocked her head slightly in confusion. "Hmm?"
She's gorgeous. Asta was breathless for a moment before he took a deep gulp and clarified.
"W-weren't you and Yuno laughing about something…?"
"…I thought you were smiling at each other."
Noelle paused every so slightly before chuckling. "He was quoting Mimosa's love letters."
Asta blinked.
"What."
"I told him they were cringe," she added. "But kind of sweet."
"…Cringe?"
"Yes."
He paused.
"Wait—you've read Mimosa's love letters?"
Noelle turned beet red.
"WE PRACTICALLY LIVED TOGETHER FOR SIX MONTHS, SHUT UP."
—
Asta started laughing.
Loud and unfiltered.
Noelle swatted his chest, eyes narrowed.
But she didn't pull away.
Didn't let go.
He smiled.
Relieved.
Embarrassed.
A little dazed.
But happy.
Because for once, the misunderstanding didn't end in heartbreak.
It ended in clarity.
—
"I'm such a dumbass," he muttered.
"Yes, you are," Noelle said.
"But you're my dumbass now."
Asta flushed.
So did she.
Neither of them let go.
—
They stayed like that a while.
Standing at the edge of the ballroom.
Hands still locked.
Not dancing anymore.
Not speaking.
Just... breathing.
Noelle was looking down at her shoes now.
But her fingers hadn't left his.
Asta kept stealing glances.
Her face was pink.
But she wasn't pulling away.
Not once.
He gave her hand a light squeeze.
She squeezed back.
Asta grinned.
Couldn't help it.
She's not dreaming.
I'm not dreaming.
This was really happening.
—
Then he blinked.
"Oh crap."
Noelle looked up. "What?"
"I confessed in front of everyone."
She stared for a second.
Then laughed under her breath.
"…You really did."
He rubbed the back of his head.
"Think I broke like... ten royal rules."
"Probably more."
"Think they'll strip my rank?"
"They'd have to go through me."
Asta turned.
Eyes wide.
"You'd defend me?"
Noelle crossed her arms.
"You think I'd let some crusty noble tell me who I can and can't date?"
Asta blinked.
Then smiled.
"Wait. Date?"
She looked away.
Flustered.
"…I-I mean… if you ask properly."
He took a breath.
"Alright."
She turned back, eyes narrowing.
"…Alright what?"
Asta cleared his throat.
Put a hand over his chest.
Tried not to look too nervous.
"Noelle Silva."
She tensed.
"I know I've got a lot to learn."
She blinked.
"I know I'm not royalty."
A slow flush crept across her cheeks.
"I know I've got terrible timing and probably embarrassed you in front of half the kingdom—"
"You definitely did."
"—but I like you."
Her eyes widened.
"I've liked you for a long time."
Her lips parted.
"I just didn't realize until recently."
She was staring now.
Silent.
"I want to be with you."
He took her hand again.
Held it tight.
"So, um…"
"…Would you be my girlfriend?"
—
The silence stretched.
She didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
Asta panicked.
"Wait—was that too forward?!"
"You confessed in front of everyone, what part of this is too forward?!"
"I don't know! I'm improvising!"
"Then shut up and let me answer!"
Asta clamped his mouth shut.
Eyes wide.
Noelle scowled.
Stepped closer.
Flustered. Fierce. Shaking a little.
Then—
"…Yes."
Time stopped.
Asta's jaw dropped.
"…Seriously?"
She rolled her eyes.
Then muttered—
"If you make me repeat it, I'll drown you."
He laughed.
She looked away, lips twitching.
But didn't let go of his hand.
—
Music started again.
Another soft waltz.
Noelle nudged him with her elbow.
"Well?"
Asta blinked. "Well what?"
She gave him that look.
"Are you gonna ask me to dance again? Your girlfriend to dance again. or do I have to drag you?"
—
He grinned.
Extended a hand.
"Noelle Silva…"
She raised an eyebrow.
He swallowed.
"…May I have this dance?"
She placed her hand in his.
"Finally."
—
They stepped back into the center.
Eyes still on them.
But it felt different now.
Not heavy.
Not scary.
Just… warm.
Nothing changed in that little break.
Asta still didn't know the steps.
He still nearly stepped on her feet at every turn.
He still moved like a solid rock.
And Noelle still didn't care.
She guided him this time.
Taking the lead.
Noelle—graceful, noble, unshakable—leading the clumsiest, happiest boy in the kingdom.
He laughed when he tripped.
She laughed when he did it again.
They danced anyway.
—
The world could end tomorrow.
Lucius could rise from the grave.
Yami could bench press the castle.
Didn't matter.
Not tonight.
Because Noelle was in his arms.
And she wasn't letting go.
And for once… he didn't want to be anywhere else.
—
The ball was over.
The ballroom had thinned.
Nobles filtered out in pairs, in groups, in drunken stumbles.
Asta sat on a stone bench just outside the grand hall.
His boots were dusty.
His shirt collar was crooked.
And his heart was still somewhere back on that dance floor.
He couldn't stop smiling.
Even the stars felt different.
Brighter. Closer.
Is this what it's like to be in love?
He leaned back, hands behind his head.
Exhaled.
Still buzzing.
Still thinking about the way her fingers had laced with his.
The way she'd rested her head on his shoulder near the end.
Footsteps approached.
He didn't have to look.
Didn't need mana sensing to know who it was.
"…You looked like an idiot."
Asta opened one eye.
Yuno stood nearby, arms crossed, cape fluttering in the breeze.
Asta grinned.
"Yeah?"
Yuno gave a slow nod.
"But a happy idiot."
Asta chuckled.
"Congrats on Mimosa."
Yuno blinked.
"…You knew?"
"Noelle told me."
A faint smile touched Yuno's lips.
"She cried."
Asta smirked. "You cried?"
"No. She did."
"Oh."
Pause.
"…You still cried, though, didn't you?"
"Shut up."
They sat in silence for a moment.
Two boys.
Two rivals.
Two idiots who'd survived gods, devils, and nobles.
Now fumbling through romance like clueless deer on ice.
"I thought you liked her," Asta said quietly.
"Noelle?"
"Yeah."
Yuno shook his head.
"She's not my type."
"…Too loud?"
"Too much like you."
Asta frowned. "…Rude."
Yuno didn't deny it.
Just smirked.
More silence.
Asta glanced sideways.
"Thanks, though."
"For what?"
"For not… being mad."
Yuno gave him a look.
"I'm not six."
Asta laughed.
"Could've fooled me during our first spar."
Yuno rolled his eyes.
"You mean when I kicked your ass?"
"Details."
Another breeze rolled by.
Yuno stood.
"Go see her."
Asta blinked. "Now?"
"She's waiting."
Asta stood too.
Brushed off his pants.
Tried to fix his hair.
Gave up halfway.
Then looked back at his brother.
"…You really think she's waiting?"
Yuno shrugged.
"You confessed in front of the entire kingdom. If she's not waiting, that's your problem."
Fair enough.
—
They parted without another word.
Yuno disappeared down the corridor, cape snapping behind him.
Asta turned the other way.
Headed back inside.
He found her near the balcony.
Still in her gown.
Still barefoot—she'd kicked her heels off hours ago.
Leaning on the railing, looking out over the city.
The moonlight hit her silver hair just right.
His breath caught.
She turned.
Saw him.
Smiled.
A little embarrassed.
A little smug.
Like she'd known he'd come back.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she replied.
He walked over.
Leaned beside her.
Didn't say anything at first.
Didn't have to.
She spoke after a moment.
"…Yuno give you a hard time?"
"He tried."
"Did you deserve it?"
"Definitely."
Noelle snorted.
They watched the stars.
Let the quiet settle in again.
Then Asta asked, softly:
"So… what happens now?"
Noelle tilted her head.
"Hm?"
"Us."
He scratched his cheek.
"Are we… like… official now?"
Noelle nearly screamed.
You asked to court me.
You asked me to be your girlfriend.
You asked me to a dance and confessed to me in front of the entire kingdom.
I said yes to everything.
And all of a sudden you don't know if we're official?!
Noelle nearly screamed.
Noelle nearly shoved a point-blank Sea Dragon's roar down Asta's throat.
But instead she restrained herself.
She smiled.
Folded her arms.
Eyes half-lidded.
"Do I need to request a royal decree, or are you gonna kiss me already?"
Asta froze.
"…Wait, what?"
She rolled her eyes.
Stepped closer.
Grabbed the front of his shirt.
"Idiot."
And kissed him.
—
It wasn't like the stories.
No fireworks.
No music.
No magical spark.
Just warmth.
Contact.
Her hand on his chest, and his fingers rising to touch her cheek.
When they pulled back, she was blushing.
So was he.
But neither looked away.
And for the first time in years—
Asta didn't feel like he was chasing something unreachable.
He had her.
And she had him.
Finally.