Disclaimer: I do not own Black Clover as it belongs to its respective owner. For entertainment purposes.

Warning: This chapter does contain descriptions of a panic attack, so if this effects you, please read with caution.

Tender Beginnings: The Innocence of Youth

There was a flame beneath his skin that kept him from fully waking. The unbearable heat was only soothed by a softness upon his forehead that would come in cooling waves. In the few moments that the warmth would descend long enough for him to open his eyes, he'd catch glimpses of dark blue that would transform into a vivid midnight hue and chase after him in his dreams. A voice like honey sang to him in the void between flares of heat; their words always devoured by the fire before they could reach his ear. A voice like silk soothed him in the time consumed by periods of ice; their words growing clearer with each passing blizzard.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he was finally able to open his eyes fully, though his head still felt murky from the residual heat that remained and his body felt like it was being held by weights. Blinking to adjust to the bright light filling the room, he was mildly surprised to find himself tucked under plain covers in a bed. Looking around, he found himself in a small room with chipped walls and a single nightstand under a small window to keep the bed company. The creak of iron brought his attention to the only door in the room, wooden with bits of paint chipped from age.

A woman dressed in black cloth met his gaze with surprised teal irises as she stepped into the room. Whatever shock she had experienced, she smoothed it over as a happy expression crossed her face. Walking over, she placed the bowl and spoon she had been carrying on the nightstand and turned to him with a beaming smile that might have rivaled the sun. "Good morning," She greeted as her hands clasped together as if she was offering a slight prayer to the divine before continuing, "How are you feeling?"

Perhaps it was the joy in her eyes at seeing him that compelled him to answer the stranger before him or the fact her voice was as smooth as the one he heard in his dreams. Whatever the reason though, it didn't matter for, as he opened his mouth to answer her, his voice failed him. A few coughs shook his small form instead.

"That's okay," she soothed quickly as he opened his mouth to try again, "You're still recovering." She turned and sat herself on the edge of the bed as the frame groaned. She reached out her hand and gently pressed the back of it against his forehead. She held it there for a moment before pulling away. As if to reassure him, she cheerfully declared, "And your fever's down from yesterday, so you'll be better soon."

Folding her hands on her lap, she explained, "I need you to answer a few questions, but I can come back later when you're feeling a bit better." Somehow the thought that she would be leaving made his heart beat just a bit faster in his chest as the desire to not be alone filtered through the fog in his head. He tried to move, to reach for her wrist.

Gently, she held him down with a firm hand on his chest. With a sigh, her other hand rested on her chin for a moment as she closed her eyes in thought. "You really must rest," She murmured as she peeked one eye at him. Despite his physical weakness, his determination must have shone through his hazy eyes as she shook her head lightly. "Very well," she mused, "We can do questions now if that's what you want." He strained to hear her next words as she muttered under her breath faintly and pushed some of her dark blue bangs away from her eyes, "I can see you won't rest until we do."

Returning her hands to her lap, she met his gaze and asked softly, "For now, how about you use your head to answer?" He furrowed his brow slightly in response. Smiling with a bit of mirth in her eyes, she nodded her head and said, "Yes," before shaking her head lightly and saying, "No." At the demonstrations, his mind processed her meaning as he slowly nodded 'yes' in return.

"Let's start with an easy one," she said as she placed a hand on her chest in introduction, "My name is Sister Lily." Gesturing to him and pointing lightly at his chest, she asked, "Is your name 'Asta'?"

He blinked and tried to pull at his shirt, but his fingers felt too heavy to move properly. Instead, he mulled 'Asta' in his head slowly. It felt...right, that it belonged to him even if it seemed as though it was only one piece of a puzzle he had yet to grasp. And so, he nodded.

"Do you know how old you are?"

*shake*

"Do you know where you are?"

*shake*

"Do you remember the past few days?"

*shake*

Her smile had tightened ever so slightly with each shake of his head. "Do you know a man with red hair?" She asked as she searched his eyes for any sign of recognition. His head pounded with a migraine that he couldn't tell if it had always been there or that her question had caused it. Either way, no answers popped into his mind. So he shook his head.

Reaching into a pouch at her side, she brought out a small, black flask. Holding it out to him, she asked next, "Do you recognize this bottle?" Asta gazed at the featureless, smooth glass. And again, he shook his head.

Placing a hand on her cheek, Sister Lily murmured an "Oh, dear" before putting the flask on the nightstand. In another attempt at reassuring him, she quickly said, "I'm sure it's just because of the fever." Clapping her hands together, she added with a joy that seemed forced, "I'm sure they'll come back to you eventually." For some odd reason or another Asta couldn't explain, her words made his chest tighten slightly.

Noting the displeasure on his features, she said to him somewhat hastily, "I can answer a few of those questions then." She gestured around the room, to the window he could barely see from his position on the bed. "You've been here in the town of Hage's Church for the past couple of days," She explained, "Lying sick with a cold." She paused once more as she seemed lost in thought for a moment before shaking herself out of her stupor. "Thanks to a kind... peddler," she finished with a slight hesitation, "We were able to get some medicine for you."

She picked up the flask on the nightstand once more as she uncorked the top. A sweet yet metallic scent filled the air as his mouth watered ever so slightly at it. Mistaking the wrinkle of his nose for disgust, her mouth once more turned sympathetic. "I know it doesn't smell the best," she apologized as she grabbed the spoon she had brought. Pouring a dosage into the utensil, she held it out and said, "But I must admit that it has been like a miracle for you."

He stared at the spoon for a moment before opening his mouth obediently and swallowing the liquid. It tasted as it smelled, sweet with hints of a metallic tang, and thick like syrup. His body warmed slightly as it slid down his throat, as if that small spoonful was filling him with strength. A sense of calm washed over him as his eyes slid shut, and he savored the leftover taste in his mouth.

Once more, she must have misunderstood his reaction, or perhaps she thought he was trying to save face. She reached over and tussled his hair lightly with her hand. "I know that mustn't have tasted very good," She murmured gently as he blinked sleepily at her, "But you were very brave." Not wanting to lose the praise he just received, he didn't correct her.

She reached over to the bowl, and as she brought it closer, he could see a damp cloth in it. Wringing the towel out, she folded it into a small rectangle and placed it on his forehead. The coolness was heavenly, and his eyes fluttered shut in relief again. He felt her move off the bed and heard her shuffle slightly to the nightstand.

Feeling her rustle his hair once more, he heard Sister Lily whisper, "We'll talk more when you wake up." Then she re-tucked him in and said, "Dream sweet dreams, Asta." And by the time she had left the room, he was.

The next time Asta awoke, the room was bathed in a silvery light coming from the window. To his delight, his limbs no longer felt as though they were made of lead. His head was still foggy but not nearly as murky as it had been before. Testing the waters, he sat up and let the towel fall into his lap with a slight plop. When no headache or trembling limb threatened him, he deemed his recovery a success. He wiggled a bit as he untangled himself from the bedsheet that must have wrapped itself around him in his sleep.

Moving a bit too close to the edge, he fell off the bed with a startled yelp. It was only by the grace of having one ankle still caught in the cloth that he didn't land face first. Instead, he dangled for a moment above the ground with his arms drooping by his side and the blood rushing slightly to his head. Then his weight freed his captured ankle as he instinctively tumbled with his momentum to the floor and rolled. If anyone heard his struggling, there was no indication as both the room around him and the area outside of the door remained silent.

When the world stopped spinning, he found himself in the middle of the room where the moonlight bathed it. It was too quiet, and the air was too still. He glanced at the door. If he opened it, would he find Sister Lily? It was better than nothing, better than being alone. As he stood up though, the thought left his mind as soon as it had entered it.

Beyond the window pane, standing out against the gray shadows of night, was a large, red blur. Perhaps it was what Sister Lily had said or because some invisible force was compelling him to, but the impulse to check the window was undeniable and he obeyed it without another thought.

Asta scrambled to the nightstand and climbed onto it, even as it wobbled worriedly under his weight. Rubbing his eyes, the red blur transformed into the form of a blood-red fox standing just beyond the yard of the Church in the tree-line of a forest. Almost as though it sensed his presence, the fox stood still and gazed back towards the direction of Asta. His mind raced as a small pang echoed in his chest, followed by a tugging sensation begging him to follow the fox. He pressed closer to the glass as if to will his being through it.

Perhaps he desired it too much as the frame gave way to his weight. The window parted as he fell forward without an ankle to catch him this time. His face met the dirt with a loud thump before twisting on his back. Sitting up, he rubbed at his forehead with a wince.

As he turned his attention back to the fox, he was surprised to see it was already in the middle of the yard. Though strangely, it seemed smaller the closer it had come and stopped a few feet away from him. He could feel its blue eyes observe him heavily in the same manner as he was observing it. While he wasn't sure what it was looking for, Asta's attention spurred not to its unusual coloring but to the old scars he could see scattered across its muzzle and neck. Something pulled at him from the back of his mind.

By then the fox had noticed Asta's staring. It twitched its ear and broke out of whatever trance it had placed upon itself. Then its ears flattened slightly as an expression that could almost be described as a scowl crossed its features. It waited until the two of them had met gazes before very pointedly looking at Asta and then back at the Church. A moment passed before, it repeated the gesture. Upon receiving nothing but a confused expression back each time, the fox shook its head with what could be the cross between a grumble and a growl. As it turned to go back into the woods, Asta could see the same type of scars upon its hind legs.

Before it could completely disappear into the tree-line, Asta shook off his stupor from both the fall and the encounter. Not noticing as a "Wait!" left his mouth, he scrambled to his feet. The fox twitched at his yelp, looked behind its shoulder, and then darted into the forest. Asta took off after it, pushing away the leaves and underbrush that got in his way. He ignored the rocks and twigs that scratched at him as he kept his sights on the crimson blur in the distance. Using only the light of the moon as his guide, he followed clumsily.

He wasn't sure how long the two of them ran. He was just sure when the two of them stopped as they burst into a clearing. And it was only then that Asta fell to the ground as his legs gave out. Panting as his heart felt that it might burst with how fast it was beating, he raised his head to find the fox staring back at him. It might have been his imagination, but for a split second, it was almost as if it had winced at the sight of him.

Asta rolled onto his back as he heaved with the effort of getting air into his body. As he laid among the grass and clover, gazing at the moon directly overhead, he could see from the corner of his eye that the fox was now surveying the clearing around them. Slowly as though to keep Asta in its sights, it moved to rummage in a bush nearby.

He could still hear it rustling when something dense fell on his face and a foul odor filled his nose. Eyes watering, he launched himself up with a yelp and batted at his face with whatever strength his arms still held. In his panic, he could see the rainbow glimmer of a large beetle flying away. As his gaze returned to where he had been laying, the fox stood nearby with a large branch held loosely in its muzzle. Even with its mouth full of wood, he could still tell it was smirking at him with its head shaking ever so slightly with what could have been laughter. He glared at the creature accusingly, but it only lasted a moment as his legs stopped supporting his weight once more. The mirth in the fox only seemed to increase.

He watched as the fox set the branch down on the ground in front of him and held it with one of its front paws. Snapping a twig off with its mouth, a sweet aroma filled the air around them. It held the twig out to him, with the small branch glistening with tiny, red beads of berries scattered about it. Something in Asta's gut began to tear at him.

He licked his lips, almost pricking his tongue on a sharp tooth. Holding out a trembling hand, the fox proceeded to drop it in his palm. Immediately he stuck the twig in his mouth with the instinctive intention to swallow it whole. And just as quickly, he felt the creature whack him in the back of his head with its foot, forcing him to spit the small branch out. It landed near the fox's feet, and the creature's expression hid no disgust it felt about the action as it kicked the twig away. It returned to the original branch it had scavenged and broke another small branch off before returning to him. The fox's ear twitched at him as if to ask if Asta was going to attempt that again.

Slowly, Asta shakily sat up and held out his palm. The fox dropped the small branch into his hand once more and watched intently as Asta forced himself to pick the berries off the twig rather than consuming the entire thing at once. A sweet and metallic tang filled his mouth much like the medicine Sister Lily had given him, and, while it appeased the hunger in his veins, it didn't give him the same warmth as the treatment had earlier.

The two of them continued in this strange fashion until the original branch was bare. Asta rolled onto his back and patted his stomach as he closed his eyes. While Asta didn't feel full, he felt better than he had when he had collapsed in the clearing. Maybe that was the intent.

Beside him, he could hear the fox make a sound almost like a snort of disbelief. At his behavior or the situation in general, Asta didn't know. But after a few moments of silence, Asta could sense the fox settle down, not next to him but nearby enough that he could feel the heat radiate from its fur. Exhaustion settled in his bones, and with the creature's warmth beside him, his mind began to slow and drift. Just before he fell asleep, he thought he heard the rough murmur of a man's voice echo briefly in a tone that was the mix between exasperation and disbelief with the smallest hint of care:

"You're going to be the death of me, brat."

When Sister Lily had awoken him in the late afternoon to check on his temperature and give him a dosage of medicine, Asta had thought the encounter to be a dream. Him feeling better certainly was not, as Sister Lily proclaimed that his medicine really was a miracle. But when he heard her mutter to herself and ponder on whether she had left the window open or not, he had become convinced the rest of the night had been reality as well. Opening his eyes fully, he turned towards the window to find a few red berries on its outer edge that cemented his belief.

And now, in the hours just before dusk, he found himself clutching Sister Lily's hand with his own as the two of them slowly made their way about the market place of Hage. Though the cobblestone road and stone buildings impressed him along with the assortment of booths selling everything from food to books to weapons, a sense of unease settled in his gut the longer they spent in the plaza. While he wasn't sure why, he found himself clinging ever tighter to Sister Lily's hand when they passed the other patrons. Though it could have been the stares the two of them were receiving from the townspeople around them. Whispers here and there reached his ears, sometimes arriving in full sentences.

"Just showed up out of nowhere-"

"He's so pale."

"-Don't suppose you think he's-"

"No, his hair's too light - "

"Those green eyes -"

"-but seems small to be -"

"-Something feral about him."

"No wonder he's abandoned."

And so on, and so forth. Every time a particularly cruel gossip reached the two of them, Sister Lily would grip her list a bit tighter in her other hand and walk slightly faster. Then she would look down at him and say with a forced smile and cheer, "You're becoming quite the celebrity, Asta." Yet there was always something sad in her eyes that stopped Asta from fully believing her words. And it was that sadness that made his chest tighten the worse.

Determined to wipe it from her gaze, Asta had started to fake interest in the stalls around them. Yet it turned into real excitement as he pulled on her hand as they passed a stall full of fresh fruits and vegetables. The colorful display immediately capturing his full attention, and he couldn't help but ramble about how pretty they were or how much there was.

"Ah," Sister Lily said with another tight smile as she let go of his hand to fiddle with the pouch at her side, "Those are nice, Asta." But her tone said the opposite as she looked at her list, the pouch, and then back to the stall. He could hear her muttering to herself about the prices and maybe if she bought less of a few of the things on their list, they might -

Asta directed his gaze towards the shop keeper and was surprised to find the owner already staring at him with distain. Not liking that look, he quickly turned his head and set his sights on another booth. Tugging at Sister Lily's dress nearly frantically to fake excitement, he pointed at the new stall and exclaimed, "Sister Lily! Look at that!" Then he grabbed on to her wrist, pulling her to the stall as she let out a surprised yelp before giving the shop keeper a rushed "Thank you!" and "Maybe next time!"

Yet the other booth was the same as the last one, and the one after that...Over and over until the sun was near setting and Sister Lily had only a small bag hanging from her wrist.

They were at the last stall Sister Lily was willing to visit, and while she was trying to pick out potatoes for them to buy, he could tell she was watching him kick a loose pebble from the corner of her eye. "Asta," She called out with a smile that was more honest than the others as she held out two potatoes, "Which one do you think is better?" Ignoring the gaze of the shop keeper, Asta picked up each potato one at a time and examined them fully before returning them to Sister Lily.

"The one on the left," Asta exclaimed as he pointed at the fatter potato. Sister Lily nodded happily in agreement. She turned to return the right potato to the stall, only to be stopped by the store keeper.

"You touch it," The owner exclaimed with a rough tone to his voice, keeping his eyes on Asta the whole time, "You buy it." Asta opened his mouth, patience snapping at that remark, but Sister Lily quickly shifted the potatoes into the crook of her elbow and covered Asta's mouth with her free hand.

"Of course," She said sweetly as she removed her hand from Asta when she was sure he wasn't going to blurt something out. Instead he pouted as she counted out the extra coins to the shop keeper and put the potatoes in her bag. As she reached for his hand to tug him away from the booth, Asta swung his head around and stuck his tongue out at the shop keeper before scrambling back to Sister Lily's side. Though he could tell she wanted to reprehend him for his action, he was surprised that she actually let it slide. "We only have to stop by the teleportation runes now," She instead announced happily as she put her list into her pouch and shuffled the bag slightly.

"Why?"

"Father Ofai's coming back tonight," Sister Lily explained, "He's the priest to the Church." As her eyes surveyed the townspeople around them, she tilted her head down towards Asta and whispered softly, "Don't worry. He's a much kinder man." At those words, Asta got a little more enthusiastic as they rounded the corner out of the market and down a quieter street towards one of the exits of Hage.

Sister Lily let go of Asta's hand and let him walk beside her as she took the bag in both arms. Asta couldn't help but make note that a few of the townspeople they were passing by either had hunting bows strapped across their backs or swords strapped to the side of their hips. Asta turned his attention back to Sister Lily when he heard the slight crunch of the bag as she tightened her grip whenever they passed one. And Asta could always feel the weight of the person's gaze on both of them as they did.

Finally the two of them approached a large ring of standing stones just outside of the entrance of Hage. Asta, in his eagerness to both get out of Hage and to examine the structure, ran ahead and stretched his neck to try to peek at all the engravings of letters he couldn't understand. He saw Sister Lily smile at his antics from the corner of his eyes and watched as she spoke to a man outside of the ring, near the largest pillar in the center, dressed in a tan cloak that covered most of his body with what looked like the emblem of a purple fish sewn on the right shoulder. He nodded and pressed his hand against the stone.

Asta watched in amazement as the runes on the stones lit up. Then lines of light began to sprout from each stone, crisscrossing each other inside the circle. The light grew into a circle in the middle, and letters from the stone seemed to lift off the rocks to orbit the glowing sphere. Though Asta wanted to watch more, Sister Lily covered his eyes with her hand and he heard her exclaim, "Careful!" And then it was over. The light that leaked between her fingers was gone and he could hear signs of something or someone being in the ring.

Taking her hand off his eyes, but holding it lightly, Asta was amazed to see a man, wearing the same type of black cloth as the woman beside him, standing in the center of the runes where the light had presumably vanished. Sister Lily was now the one tugging Asta forward as the two of them went to approach him. Yet some rustling behind the man stopped Asta in his tracks as they drew near.

A small tuff of messy, black hair peeked out from behind his robe along with an amber eye. As soon as the eye met Asta, it disappeared behind the man, and faintly he could hear sniffling. Sister Lily let go of Asta's hand as she shifted the bag in her arms once more.

"Father Ofai," She greeted as she smiled more genuinely than all the time they had been out, "How was your trip?"

"As well as expected," He answered as he ran a hand through dark brown hair that was turning gray at the edges. He moved his gaze to Asta, and, for a second, Asta wanted to freeze but he forced himself to meet the older man's eyes. The priest smiled, and something in Asta lightened. "You must be Asta," He greeted as he crouched to meet his eye level and tussled his hair. Whoever was behind him startled.

Standing up, Father Ofai moved out of the way to show his own companion, and Asta got a better look of the boy in the black long-sleeve shirt and brown pants. "This is Yuno," he introduced as the boy looked at Sister Lily and Asta with unfiltered fear in his eyes. One of his hands clasped something around his neck so hard that Asta could see his knuckles were white. As soon as Yuno registered that his protector had moved, a few tears slipped from his eyes and he launched himself back behind Father Ofai. Asta heard the priest sigh at the action, but his eyes showed nothing but pity and understanding.

"I've already told you about his situation," Father Ofai addressed Sister Lily, who nodded in response, "And about what Drouot can gather about the event." His hand ran through his hair again. "It took me a few days just to convince the boy to talk to me," He sighed once more. Then remembering he had a young audience, he directed his attention to Asta and gave a slightly strained smile as he said, "You'll have to be patient with him, okay?" He paused before adding, "He's been through a lot."

Father Ofai turned around and crouched down to Yuno's height as Sister Lily took Asta's hand once more. Asta could hear the murmuring of words from Father Ofai but couldn't make them out fully only catching bits of "I promise-" and "-Nothing's going to-" and "- Safe." Then Father Ofai gathered the other boy in his arms, grunting as he stood. Loudly, the priest announced, "Let's go home."

As Asta walked behind him by the side of Sister Lily, he watched as Yuno ever so slightly peeked his head from Father Ofai's shoulder. Their gazes met, and Asta tried smiling at the other. Yuno visibly stiffened before burying his face back against the priest's. Asta blinked and looked up at Sister Lily. She said nothing but gave him a sad smile and shook her head.

That night, the four of them sat around a rickety table in the room just to the left of the chapel. While it was supposed to be the four of them anyway. Yuno had taken to hiding under the table with his hands pressed against both his ears and eyes squeezed shut tight while both Father Ofai and Sister Lily exchanged looks above.

Sister Lily placed the plate of baked potatoes she had carried from the kitchen that was to the left of the dining room on the table beside the basket of bread. She smiled and clapped her hands together, no doubt trying to distract Asta from peeking under the table at the other boy. "You're in for a treat," She announced happily, "As I made potato pudding for dessert today." She smiled as she sat down next to Asta. "As a welcome to both you and Yuno to the Church," She added as she put together a plate of two bread slices and half a potato. Passing the plate to Asta, she finished with a stern, "But you have to finish your dinner first."

Asta nodded as he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. And though it felt like he was chewing on a rock and was eating ash, he still beamed at her and said, "Your cooking is amazing!" From across the table, Father Ofai chuckled.

"I made that."

Cheeks burning with the heat of embarrassment, Asta amended, "Well, her cooking's still amazing." He then shoved a mouthful of potato into his face to prove his point and chewed vigorously. The taste was dry and plain, but, for the sake of Sister Lily, he smiled through his displeasure and roughly swallowed. As he ate another mouthful, he saw Sister Lily shake her head lightly at his actions before leaning over and cutting the potato into smaller bites.

As she did so, Asta peered down at the only silent member of their dinner party. Yuno had stopped curling in on himself and was now looking at the stone that was around his neck, holding it in the palm of his hand. More tears slid down his cheeks as he continued to gaze at the blue pendent. Leaning down a little closer, Asta could see the markings of a golden cross with four pointed-star corners on the front of the stone.

Unfortunately, his shifting had alerted Yuno who snapped his head towards him with a startled gasp. The other slammed backwards wildly, hitting the chair behind him and knocking it over. The pure panic that raced across his face had Asta feeling unsettled as Yuno scrambled out from under the table and darted for the door that led to the hallway behind the chapel.

He made it through as both Father Ofai and Sister Lily were too slow in their reactions to catch him. Both adults turned to Asta and said, "Wait here," before rushing out the door after Yuno. Asta's chest tightened as he turned his gaze back to his plate. After a moment of hesitation, he pushed it aside and set off after everyone. As he moved to open the door, a spot of scarlet caught his attention as a faint metallic scent drifted to his nose.

He blinked as he caught himself nearly biting his tongue. For some reason, his stomach ached. He looked back towards his dinner. Perhaps he should finish it before helping search for Yuno. He then shook his head and forced himself to clear the cobwebs that were forming in his mind. There were more important things to worry about than food.

Yet he could still smell that faint scent, and he found himself following it. Despite the fact he could hear Sister Lily and Father Ofai calling for the missing boy near the living quarters of the Church, he found himself wandering the opposite way and into the chapel.

It was eerily silent in a place that was supposed to represent the divine, even if it didn't look like it. As he gazed among the worn, wooden pews, the metallic scent grew stronger as he drew close to the altar. For a second, he gazed at the carved figure of a saintly being battling a creature that could only be described as a monster with its horns and warped form. Something in twitched his chest, but he couldn't identify the emotion stewing inside of him.

Instead he walked around it, and he saw near the slight crack between the back wall and the monument was Yuno. Asta could swear he could hear the other's heart as it beat frantically, and he made no indication that he was aware of Asta's presence. He was too busy struggling in desperation to fit in between the two, but all he was succeeding in doing was pressing himself against the altar's side.

As Yuno continued to scramble, Asta could see the other had cut his palm somewhere between his dash from the table to here. Asta furrowed his brow as something heavy settled in his gut. At first, it felt a lot like hunger, but when he looked at Yuno's tear-soaked face, it felt a lot like guilt. Remembering Father Ofai's words to be patient, Asta approached the other as slowly and softly as he could. Which, in all honesty, wasn't that well.

Yuno snapped his head towards Asta immediately when he moved. His amber eyes widened more as he looked for an escape route, but the only way out was past Asta. Yuno trembled as he curled in on himself, and Asta could hear the other murmur to himself over and over, "No, no, no," as despair seemed to settle in him more and more with each word.

Asta's mind froze as he tried to think of what to do. On an impulse, Asta darted to the other and wrapped his arms around him. Which was a bad move as Yuno thrashed against him in response. But Asta stayed strong despite the bruises he would no doubt be receiving.

Finally, Yuno slowed as his breath left him in quick puffs. For a second, he was still, and Asta feared he might have died. Sliding his hand a little up the other's back, Asta felt a small bit of relief from the rapid beating of Yuno's heart through his hand. To his surprise next, he felt arms wrap around him and squeeze him with all their might as Yuno buried himself against Asta, pressing his face against his chest.

It was Asta's turn to panic as he struggled to figure out how to comfort the other. He moved his hand up and down Yuno's back again and felt the other shudder slightly before curling up against Asta. Taking that as a good sign or any sign at all, Asta shifted so his back was being supported by the altar's side behind him and continued the motion.

It was when the other's breathing had calmed down enough to say Yuno wasn't on the verge of passing out that, Asta could once again understand the other's murmuring. Somewhat. "Gone," and "Hurts," and "Red, red, red," seemed to be his favorite phrases.

Something in his mind clicked, and Asta followed the impulse again. Lightly he pushed Yuno back enough that he could look into the other's face. To his relief, the boy didn't immediately take that as a sign to dash, though his glazed expression didn't say that he was entirely with Asta either. Slowly Asta took Yuno's right arm and unwove it from behind his back. Then he guided Yuno's hand to his heart and pressed the other's palm against it. Yuno's expression flickered, and Asta continued before the other could react. He placed his left hand against Yuno's frantic heart.

"You're alive," Asta stated, "And I'm alive. We're still here." He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it, but he was sure someone had said it to him once. Though he felt like he was missing the last half of the message. Pushing his own thoughts aside, he watched as Yuno slowly blinked and registered his words. Yuno shifted his gaze from his hand on Asta's chest to Asta's face. His eyes were still red from his tears, but they seemed to be getting clearer with each second.

"Alive," Yuno mumbled as if in disbelief, and he drew in a shaky breath. Asta frowned slightly and pulled the other back into his arms. Only this time, Asta had turned Yuno so that his ear was pressed against Asta's chest where his heart would beat. The other had let him do as he pleased, seemingly exhausted whatever energy he had left. Then Asta wrapped his arms back around Yuno and rubbed his back once more as the other clung to his shirt.

As they settled back down, Asta began to ramble if only so there would be some noise between them. He told Yuno about the market place, about all the food and trinkets he had seen, and about the people he had passed. When he ran out of things to say, he spoke about previous night he followed the fox into the forest and through the trees. And when that tale was done, he told him about a world of ash he saw once in something that was no more than a distant dream now.

He yawned as he finished his latest exploit and glanced down at his quiet companion. He smiled softly as he realized the other had fallen asleep some time between all his stories Tightening his grip on the other slightly, Asta settled down himself to follow suit.

Asta stirred when he heard the muted sounds of Sister Lily and Father Ofai. He became aware of a weight on his chest, and Asta glanced down to see Yuno still clinging to him with his ear over his heart. Looking around, he saw he was in the room he had been living in apparently for the past few days. The silver light of the moon shone through the window, but there was another light coming from beyond the door.

"It's a surprise that Yuno took to Asta so quickly."

"I'd complain that it was maybe too quick, but honestly, I think that's the first time that child has fallen asleep since it happened."

"I can't blame him. I mean his entire village...Did Drouot say who did it?"

"There's no solid evidence to point to a specific clan, and, when Yuno was first found, he could barely function let alone say who did it. Even now, I don't think he can quite come to terms with it."

"How awful…"

"Plus, with the way things are as of late with the Fae and the Fiends, it could have been anything. Though, he suspects vampires judging from the...well...you know."

"And I wish with all my heart that I did not."

"Worst part is that no one knows what provoked them. Rumor is those beasts have been hunting for something for a while now. Until we figure out what, any place can be a target."

Their voices disappeared into the night as they left to finish their conversation, taking the other light with them. Asta tilted his head down towards Yuno and was surprised to see the other was awake and watching the door as well. Most likely from feeling him twitch, Yuno looked up at Asta and then buried his face in his chest, making sure he could still hear Asta's heartbeat all the same. "Still alive," He heard the other mutter against him. Clutching his shirt tighter, Yuno continued, "Still here."

Asta wrapped his arm around the other in response. His mouth opened as the end of that phrase appeared in his mind. He whispered back to Yuno:

"And we won't give up."

Author's Note:

I should have the last two parts to this Arc done by next weekend if time with school is permitting. If not, then definitely part 3 for sure.

Thank you for everyone who been reading and following this story so far :)

I enjoy all your lovely comments as well!

I hope you all continue to enjoy it despite the wait.

To the guest:

You asked me in terms of the main relationship for this story what I think. To be honest, I'm not sure what those terms you used mean, but I'll try my best to answer. When I think/write relationships, I aim for equal partnerships where the relationship is built on trust and bringing out the best in the other. Or in other words, neither person holds the most power over the other, and they support one another through the hardships and difficulties that come along with being in any relationship.

In this case, this story is going slow burn, so I want to take my time establishing their bond before I get to the romance part of their relationship. In the case of my other work, Become a Magical Knight, it can be argued that the relationship was healthy at the start before all the timelines. But after going through all the timelines over and over, the relationship became tragic for the both of them. If I write an epilogue for that universe via short stories, I'd probably work on rebuilding that relationship in a way that healthier for both of them.

I hope that helps answer your question a bit. Feel free to ask me anything else you're curious about!