This is all for shits and giggles, but I do enjoy this ship and I wanted to express it by making a book.
I don't own the anime nor manga of Black Clover, but I highly recommend reading the manga and watching the anime!ッ
High School AU
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5:23pm, Track Field, Friday
The whole team was silent.
Too silent.
Mereolona looked off into the distance watching her kid brother being escorted off in a stretcher.
He exerted himself to much. She thought, but it pains her heart to see her own brother being carried off like that.
Luck looked over his shoulder to see Asta his face was covered by hair his headband in his hand it was all crumbled due to the pressure of his fist.
"It's ok Asta, that match wasn't even fair, such a bulky man against little o' Leopold I wouldn't see him winning." Luck stated.
"I'm going to beat the living shit out of that kid." Asta murmured.
"No, no, and no. If you do you'll get expelled so." Luck reassured.
"And besides if we wouldn't get expelled from a thing like that."
"I would've crippled them by now." Luck stated with a heavy voice.
"Round 2 Starts in 3 minutes runner ups get in your position!" The guy in the megaphone stated.
Luck patted Asta shoulder and got up. "I'll avenge Leo and tie the score I promise." Luck said while walking up the track with a big psychotic smile on his face.
The other racers on the other team looked at the small blondie as they whispered among themselves.
"That dude is mad skinny this is gonna be another W I can feel it!" One of the kids whispered.
"Isn't he going last? Easy dub for sure."
While the batons were being handed out Luck made sure to loosen up an tight muscles so he can easily and freely move.
"Racers get in your positions!"
They lined up.
"On your mark!"
Luck licked his lips.
"Get set..."
"GO!"
A shot could be heard for miles.
Mixed emotions could be heard in the audience as the Clover Team was lacking in speed as the Diamond kids were almost gliding across the track.
The first lap was done.
"Man that kid is still smiling? What a weirdo."
The baton was passed.
The boy that was suppose to go next still hasn't felt a metal rod in his hands.
