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Whoosh.
Chop.
Crack.
Yuno stared as Asta swung the axe down for the fourteenth time –he was counting– in the last 10 minutes, the trunk falling apart into two uneven pieces of wood that were quickly thrown into the growing pile next to his friend and replaced by the next one so Asta could go at it again, competing against his own record of chopping down 16 pieces in 12 minutes.
“Don’t you dare and lose count, Yuno!” Asta yelled with determination as another trunk was cut in half. “I’ll break my record for sure this time–!”
Asta didn’t as much as turn around, completely focused on the task at hand, and Yuno hummed in response, letting his back rest against the church’s wall.
Whoosh.
Chop.
Usually, the Sister in charge wouldn’t allow Asta to mindlessly chop wood for fun, but with the cold breeze of winter creeping closer every night, the need to stock up on firewood granted Asta free rein to do as he pleased as long as he carried all the pieces of wood into their storage afterwards.
Crack.
Another set of wood hit the ground.
Fifteen clean cuts in a row in a little under eleven minutes. Asta was set to break his record by at least 2 trunks; the sun was hiding away fast –yet another sign of the coming winter–, but the shadow cast over Yuno by the church’s main building wouldn’t reach Asta before he was done.
Yuno crossed his arms, remembering a similar scene that had happened almost a year ago, and how it took Asta three swings of the axe and a prayer to properly cut through a single piece of wood; now he made it look effortless, like cutting through butter.
He shuddered as memories of last year’s winter came back to him –not that Yuno didn’t think of what happened often, but he did his best to try and ignore them for normalcy’s sake– waking up to find Asta’s bed empty and a note in his place.
“Went out to hunt for some food.
I’ll be back soon, so don’t tell the Sister!”
Yuno recognized Asta’s terrible calligraphy, yet trusting his friend’s words, he just hid the note under his own pillow and went back to sleep. When he woke again, Asta wasn’t there.
And neither was he the next day. Or the next week. The snow had begun to melt away by the time he’d gathered the courage to tell the Sister about the note Asta left that night, and they were already a month into spring when, as he looked out the window, Yuno saw his friend’s famished body stumble its way out of the woods, just to collapse a few steps away from where he was.
He remembered screaming for the Sister and jumping out of the window to run towards him, disregarding his evidently weakened state to hold Asta tightly against himself and make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
Yuno also remembered his friend’s body was so cold, and even as he whispered that he was okay, Yuno could swear Asta wasn’t breathing.
“Here I go, I’m surpassing my limits!” The boy shouted, bringing Yuno back to the present.
Whoosh.
Asta was sweating, his body going up and down with each heavy breath, and yet Yuno knew it wasn’t genuine. With every swing, he could tell he was holding back, and could notice how each breath took a second too long to go in and out, like he had to hold it in consciously.
Chop.
“You’re not Asta, are you?” He said it in a whisper, so low he hoped Asta wouldn’t hear it, and his words would get dragged away by the wind.
Crack.
The sixteenth trunk was cut in half, but instead of going for the next one, Asta had frozen in place, his record remaining unbeaten as the church’s shadow finally covered him. Only then did he turn around, axe held firmly in his right hand.
“Why would you say that, Yuno?” He was still smiling, but there was something behind his eyes that had the hair on the back of Yuno’s neck standing. “You were just trying to distract me, right? Haha! Didn't want me breaking my record just yet!”
Asta took a step towards him, and Yuno could only press himself flat against the wall, frozen in his inability to pick between flight or fight or just say something as the shape of his friend got closer and the shadow cast over them got darker.
“Why… ?” Asta’s voice was abnormally low as he approached. “I thought I was copying him perfectly, so what gave me away?”
Then he pulled the axe up, what little was left of sunlight reflecting off the metal and onto Asta's unblinking eyes, and Yuno knew, as he noticed the faint red glow on his friend's olive eyes, that this was no joke of his, and he had been right all along.
This wasn't Asta, hadn’t been him since the very start and he just refused to acknowledge it.
“Why did you have to notice…?”
Whoosh.
“I really don’t want to kill you,” ‘Asta’ said, gripping the handle tightly. “But this is my first time living as a human, and I don’t want it to end now.”
So he’d have to.
And ‘Asta’ swung down.
Clank.
The axe hit the Church’s stone walls and made an ear-piercing noise as it failed to cut through, bouncing out of ‘Asta’s’ hands and onto the dirt.
Thud.
Tackled by Yuno, who’d finally managed to move, both bodies hit the ground, but only one of the boys let out a pained yelp from it.
“Then don’t– !” Yuno sat on top of his torso, pinning both of ‘Asta’s’ wrists to the ground despite knowing the thing beneath him could free itself at any moment if it wanted to.
“Im sorry, Yuno,” He said, and Yuno was sure that he truly meant it even as the body of his friend began to lose its shape, hands and face and torso melting away and climbing up his body like a lake’s deep, dark waters coming alive. “If you tell the others, I’ll lose everything.”
It felt cold and suffocating and yet it burned as it crawled up his arms and legs, and the more Yuno felt consumed, the less of his friend’s form seemed to remain in front of him.
That terrified him more than being eaten alive.
“They’ll be sad!” Yuno let out, staring directly at what remained of his friend’s face, the now single olive eye.
The creature stopped its advance on trying to devour him, but didn’t retreat. Yuno took this as it giving him a chance to speak his mind.
“The Sister, and the other kids who live with us,” I will be, too wen’t unsaid. “If they find out Asta is dead, they won’t take it well,” And neither would he, if this ‘Asta’ he’d been living with hadn’t shown up to take the place of his friend all those months ago.
The one remaining eye stared at Yuno, and he could see interest reflected in it.
“I really like this life, our friends, you– It’s all someone else’s, but I really don’t want to lose it,” And there was pain, guilt in the words it spoke. “If I had to kill you, I would be sad, too!”
Yuno saw his opening.
“You are a perfect copy,” He intercepted, the strong grip it had on his body lessened. “So just keep being him, and I won’t say anything.”
Asta wouldn’t come back, even if he told the truth. So if he had to pretend like he didn’t know –or saw, felt– what hid behind his friend’s face in order to keep any semblance of him around, he’d do it.
“What are you saying, Yuno?” The voice came out distorted but it was, undeniably, a mimicry of Asta’s.
“I won’t say anything,” He repeated, louder and with more confidence.
‘Asta’s liquid-like form slowly began to retreat from his body, –no longer burning, but still so, so cold– and slowly regained its human shape.
“You promise?”
Yuno huffed, then smiled through his fear.
“Yeah.” His hands finally free, he let go of the other. “As long as you want to play the part, I’ll be in your care, ‘Asta’ ”
Yuno stood the moment his legs were freed. Instead of lending a hand, he simply extended his arm, just keeping his closed fist in the air, hoping for Asta to seal their deal as usual by answering with his own.
His new acquaintance didn’t.
Getting up, Asta held Yuno tight and close to himself instead. It really was the little things that told it apart from his Asta
“Thank you,”
This hug was colder than the coming winter.