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Reborn as Asta

I don't really have a synopsis for this uhh that's really say is just read the first chap if you like it we can read the others and if you don't then you know I guess leave a comment on what you think I can do better bye I do not own the image that I'm using currently I would like someone to make me an image I could use but you know yeah

Madlion · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
24 Chs

A Happy 15th

The sun hadn't yet risen when Asta stirred, the excitement within him buzzing like an electric current. Today was his fifteenth birthday, the day he'd waited for ever since arriving in this world. After a decade of dreaming, today marked the moment he'd finally receive the Anti-Magic Grimoire. But for now, there were more immediate matters to attend to.

Silently activating his stealth skill, Asta slipped out of bed, careful not to wake anyone. He pulled on his boots, and stepped out the door into the cool pre-dawn air. His mind wandered back to a memory from nearly nine years ago,

<Flashback >

(9 Years Ago)

The orphanage's common room was cozy that day, sunlight streaming in through the cracked windows as six-year-old Asta sat cross-legged on the floor, a thoughtful expression on his face. Yuno sat across from him, quiet and composed as always. It was their shared birthday, and though the other children were buzzing with excitement, the room held an undercurrent of tension.

The small pile of presents sat between them. The gifts weren't much—a few hand-carved toys, a knitted scarf, and some sweets. But the simple truth was there weren't enough for both of them to have equal shares. Asta, who wasn't really six in mind, had been quick to notice.

"You know," Asta began, breaking the silence, "I've been thinking."

Yuno tilted his head, watching Asta with curious eyes. "About what?"

Asta leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial. "About this whole birthday thing. We've got the same birthday, right? And the orphanage can't exactly do a lot for both of us. So… I have an idea."

Yuno raised an eyebrow. "What kind of idea?"

"Let's switch every year," Asta said, his voice firm with determination. "This year, we celebrate your birthday properly. All the presents, the cake, everything. Next year, we do the same for mine."

Yuno blinked, surprised. "But… that's not fair to you this year."

Asta grinned, his energy as infectious as ever. "Who cares? I'm used to it. Besides, it's better than splitting everything down the middle and having it all feel… you know, less special."

Yuno frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Asta replied without hesitation. "Look, you're practically my brother, and brothers look out for each other. It's not a big deal. Besides, you're gonna owe me big time next year!"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Yuno's mouth. He nodded, extending a hand. "Deal."

"Deal!" Asta said, shaking Yuno's hand with gusto.

<End of flashback>

(Present day)

Asta pushed the memory aside as he approached the trapdoor hidden beneath a cluster of overgrown bushes. He slipped inside, descending into the dimly lit storage room he called his workshop. The air was cool and smelled faintly of leather and metal, a comforting scent that reminded him of all the hours he'd spent here.

The oil lamp's soft glow illuminated the cluttered space, revealing tools, scraps of metal, and various half-finished inventions. His latest project—a device that could potentially introduce steam power to this world—sat abandoned on the workbench. Today, however, his focus was on something more immediate: Yuno's gift.

Asta picked up the grimoire holder he'd spent weeks crafting, turning it over in his hands. The sturdy leather felt smooth under his fingers, and the intricate leaf patterns he'd carved into it seemed to shimmer faintly in the lamplight. With a quick activation of Appraiser's Eye, he admired his handiwork.

[Yuno's Grimoire Holder]

Grade: A+

Description: A handcrafted leather holder, designed with care and precision. Each leaf pattern is unique, symbolizing growth and resilience. Gold lettering spells out "Yuno" in the center, a touch of elegance amidst its rugged design.

Asta smiled in satisfaction, carefully wrapping the holder in cloth before tucking it under his arm.

When he returned to the orphanage, the building was alive with quiet activity. The smell of fresh bread and sweet syrup wafted from the kitchen, and the sound of hushed whispers drifted through the hall. Asta slipped into the dining area, where a small pile of presents had been arranged. He added his carefully wrapped gift to the stack, then joined the others in preparing for the morning's surprise.

Minutes later, the group—Father Oris, Sister Lily, and the children—stood outside Yuno's door, holding candles and a slightly lopsided cake. Asta gave the signal, and they began singing in unison.

The door creaked open, and Yuno appeared, his hair mussed and his eyes still heavy with sleep. But as he took in the sight of his family gathered for him, his expression softened into a rare smile.

"Happy birthday, Yuno!" they all shouted.

Yuno rubbed the back of his head, chuckling softly. "Thanks, everyone. This means a lot."

They crowded into the dining area, where laughter filled the room as Yuno opened his presents one by one. He unwrapped a cream colored shirt from Sister Lily, a pair of shoes from Father Oris, and a few small trinkets from the other kids. Finally, he reached Asta's gift.

Yuno tore away the plain paper and froze as he saw the grimoire holder. He ran his fingers over the carved leaves, his expression unreadable.

"This…" Yuno's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "This is incredible."

Asta grinned, his hands on his hips. "Figured you'd need something to hold your grimoire when we get them tomorrow. It's not much, but—"

"It's perfect," Yuno interrupted, meeting Asta's gaze. For a moment, his usually composed demeanor cracked, and his eyes glistened with unspoken emotion. "Thank you, Asta."

Asta's grin widened. "You'd better take care of it, you hear me? I spent forever on that thing."

Yuno nodded, clutching the holder tightly. "I will."