Right Person, Wrong Time

Prompt Request from Blacksilverc from A03: Noelle confesses to Asta, Asta rejects her, and then he comes to regret his decision deeply.

—

A week after the final battle, the world was still catching its breath.

Asta stood atop the Black Bulls' base, arms folded, eyes on the distant horizon. The sky was clear, the wind crisp. The scars of war remained—charred fields, shattered towers, streets still being rebuilt—but the people had hope. They had peace.

Lucius, the biggest and baddest evil, the kingdom, the world had ever faced, was defeated. 

Asta barely thought of that man, because right now his mind was preoccupied with other thoughts.

Because tonight, Noelle had asked to meet him.

Asta wasn't as oblivious as others like to make him out to be, he's no fool. Not anymore at least. He wished he was though, perhaps it would make what came next easier on him. 

He turned at the sound of her approaching steps. She stood there, silver hair catching the moonlight, pink eyes steady. She looked different. Stronger. But her hands were clenched at her sides.

"I love you, Asta."

It wasn't a surprise. Not really. Asta had always known, in the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't watching. In the way her magic surged strongest when they fought side by side. In the way she always returned, no matter how far she went.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, slowly, he exhaled.

"Noelle… I'm sorry."

She flinched. Just barely. But he saw it.

"I never saw you that way. I mean, I always thought of you as my best friend, but—" He hesitated. That wasn't entirely true. The words felt heavy, wrong. "…That's not the real reason."

She said nothing, waiting.

He forced himself to meet her gaze. "I can't do this. Not after Sister Lily. I told myself love wasn't for me. I have to focus on my dream. Becoming Wizard King. If I—if I start thinking about anything else…" His fists clenched. "I don't want to go through that again."

Silence stretched between them. Then Noelle inhaled, deep and shaking, before giving him the smallest of smiles. The kind that hurts to look at.

"Okay."

That was it. No tears. No outburst. Just a quiet acceptance that made his chest ache.

She turned and left. And for the first time in years, Asta watched Noelle walk away without chasing after her.

—

Time moved on.

Asta became Captain of the Black Bulls. Noelle left the squad, and as per Nozel's request, took her place as leader of the Silver Eagles. They saw each other at captain meetings, on missions, at royal gatherings. Always cordial, always professional. They spoke less. Laughed less. Noelle had never been easy to read, but now she was distant in a way he couldn't explain.

And somehow, he started noticing.

Noticing the way the Black Bulls' base felt quieter without her. Noticing the way his heart skipped when she arrived at meetings, only to sink when she sat on the other side of the room. Noticing how much he missed her, how much he wanted to talk to her, how much he hated that things weren't the same.

He told himself it was just nostalgia. He was just missing his friend.

Then, the star festival happened.

The city glittered with lanterns, music spilling through the streets. Asta had been dragged into drinking contests, eating competitions, arm-wrestling matches—anything to keep himself busy. He was doing fine.

Until he saw Kiato talking to Noelle.

She stood near a fountain, arms crossed, lips quirked in mild amusement as Kiato grinned at her, rubbing the back of his neck. Asta didn't need to hear the conversation to know what was happening.

Kiato was asking her out.

His stomach twisted.

It was fine. It wasn't his business. Noelle could date whoever she wanted.

Then why did he feel like he was going to be sick?

He turned and left before he could hear her answer. Didn't want to see it. Didn't want to know.

Not sticking around long enough to watch her politely decline, the sea-temple priest turned idol. 

Asta was in his own world, a painful, stomach-churning, nausea-inducing, grim world.

That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

—

From then on, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

At captain meetings, he found himself glancing at her, wondering what she was thinking. On missions, he fought the urge to talk to her, to joke with her like before. Whenever she smiled at him, he felt something in his chest tighten, knowing it wasn't the same.

He started reaching out more. Finding excuses to talk to her, to spend time with her. And Noelle, oblivious, welcomed it. She was happy they were friends again.

She missed her best friend, and wanted to be partners again.

He wished he could say the same.

Asta wanted so much more.

Finral noticed first. Mimosa too. Yuno said nothing, but Asta could feel his stare sometimes, like he was waiting for him to admit it. But no one interfered. No one needed to.

Because by the time Asta finally understood—fully, truly understood—it was already too late.

—

The coronation hall was grand, filled with nobles, knights, and civilians alike. Cheers rang through the air, banners waved, and confetti fell like snow. Asta stood at the podium, the crown heavy on his head, the weight of his dream finally settling on his shoulders.

He had done it.

He was the Wizard King.

So why did he feel so empty?

He knew why. And it had nothing to do with the title, or the kingdom, or even the dream he had chased since childhood.

It had everything to do with the woman standing near the back of the crowd, watching with quiet eyes, unaware of the war inside him.

He had confessed to her the night before. Told her everything—how he had been an idiot, how he had wasted years convincing himself he didn't love her, how he wanted—needed—her by his side.

She had listened, letting him spill his heart out. And then, with tears in her eyes, she told him no.

He had broken her heart once. And now, after years of healing, of finding her own path, she wasn't going to throw that all away just because he had finally realized what she had known all along.

She moved on, she was no longer the affection starved, abandoned princess desperate for love and friendship. 

She valued herself now, she respected herself. 

She felt she deserved better, and she didn't hide it.

"I love you… I think I'll always love you," she had said. "But I love myself too."

Asta's heart had cracked like glass, he almost broke down right then and there, but he was better than that. 

So with a shaky and teary smile, he beamed, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Can we start over as friends?"

Noelle froze, before mirroring his smile, with an ugly one of her own, yet it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"I'd like that."

And that was that.

She didn't say, but Asta understood, just like he once thought himself, Noelle too had decided she was done with love. It was friendship and only friendship that she was after. 

As the ceremony ended, as the kingdom roared in celebration, Asta smiled, waved, and played his part. No one saw the cracks beneath. No one noticed how hollow he felt.

Later, alone in his grand chamber, he stood by the window, staring at the night sky. Snow had begun to fall, dusting the city in white.

He exhaled. The cold air stung.

A single beautiful swan flew overhead, her wings cutting through the sky, heading somewhere far, far away, for the season. 

Asta watched them go. Watched the snow drift down in silence.

Then, quietly, to no one but himself, he murmured,

"I like the snow."

His breath misted against the glass. He closed his eyes.

"Maybe one day… I can be the one flying beside that swan."