The air was thick with ash and the hum of lingering magic. Somewhere in the distance, fire crackled from a battle that had already ended. The Eye of the Midnight Sun had launched yet another attack—one more coordinated, more ruthless. This time, they had come dangerously close to the capital's outer wall.
Asta's body was battered, his Demon-Dweller Sword still crackling with residual anti-magic. Blood ran from his temple, his knuckles, but he was upright. Breathing hard. Ready for more.
Yuno landed a few feet away, silent as always, his Wind Spirit cloak fluttering behind him like a banner of calm in a storm.
They had fought separately today—two leaders on two different fronts. But Asta had known, somehow, that Yuno would find him after it was over. He always did.
"You're hurt," Yuno said quietly.
Asta wiped blood from his brow, grin not quite reaching his eyes. "You should see the other guy."
But Yuno wasn't smiling. He stepped forward, brows drawn in a rare expression of worry.
"I'm fine," Asta said again, this time softer.
"No, you're not." Yuno's voice dropped, low and sharp. "You always do this. You push until there's nothing left."
Asta exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle. "Because someone has to."
Yuno stepped closer, hand reaching out but hesitating. "You don't have to do it alone."
Asta's gaze locked with his—intense, unwavering. "I'm not alone. Not anymore."
That was all it took. Yuno's fingers finally closed around Asta's wrist, gentle but firm. The contact sent something electric through both of them—not magic, not quite. Just heat. Connection.
They stood in the middle of the ruined battlefield, two of the Clover Kingdom's strongest. But in that moment, all Asta saw was Yuno—green eyes too full, shoulders tense like he was holding back everything he wanted to say.
So Asta said it for him.
"Every time we get close to dying, I wonder if you'll finally stop running from this."
Yuno's throat bobbed. "I'm not running."
"Then prove it."
Asta's hand moved—slowly, deliberately—rising to Yuno's jaw. His thumb brushed along the edge, tilting his face up. The touch was dominant but tender, like he was claiming something he'd already owned a long time ago.
Yuno didn't move away. He leaned into it.
Their kiss was less rushed than the first. It wasn't desperate. It was grounding—like a vow sealed in silence. Asta held Yuno firmly, one hand in his hair now, fingers tangled just enough to remind Yuno who had him.
When they pulled apart, Yuno didn't speak for a long moment. His cheeks were flushed, breath uneven.
"I can't focus on anything when you're like this," Yuno admitted, tone low and sharp-edged with want.
Asta smirked. "Good. That means I'm doing it right."
Yuno's expression flickered—half glare, half affection. He stepped forward, pressing his forehead to Asta's. "Just… come back to me every time. I don't care how strong you get. If you fall without me—"
"I won't," Asta interrupted, voice rough. "I fight better knowing you're behind me."
They stood like that until the sun began to set behind the ruins. Wounds still open. World still broken. But together.
Stronger.