Requite | ✓

Chapter 4: Truth

Asta awoke with a jolt. It was that dream again. That dream where somehow she was miraculously revived. That dream which had been plaguing him ever since her death 5 years ago.

Oh how he wished it would come true. He'd do anything to have her back by his side. But he knows that's not going to happen. It was too far-fetched. Something impossible.

Almost everybody had moved on from her death. Almost. Except for him. At this point, he's just confused. Either he can't move on, or he doesn't want to. He supposes that it's just hard for him since she was the only girl he's ever loved outside of familial and friendly love.

He was advised to write letters for her to help him move on. And so, he does. He writes letters. Today, he also writes one.

Dear Noelle,

I dreamt about you again.

Asta hurriedly crumples up the piece of paper and throws it in the bin beside his table. What a bad way to start a letter to a dead person.

Dear Noelle,

How have you been?

Asta almost wanted to slap himself, of course she's not okay. She's dead, goddamn it. Asta crumples up the paper yet again, choosing to start anew than just crossing out the words.

Dear Noelle,

I miss you. Do you as well?

If by any chance, you are somehow reading this, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything. I've decided that this will be my 293rd and final letter to you.

I will never forget you, Noelle. Even if you're gone, you'll always be someone unforgettable to me.

The paper turned translucent where there were splotches of smudged ink. Asta's tears dropped from his eyes to the letter he was writing for Noelle. Yet again, a ball of crumpled paper found its way into the trash bin.

Dear Noelle,

I miss you. Can I assume you do too?

This is my 293rd letter to you, I hope it'll be the last. Please, I'm begging you, let me go. Or I suppose you should be the one telling me that. But it just hurts so much. I want to move on, however, no matter what I do, I always come back to you. Back to your memories. Back to the life you lived. Back to what we had. Or at least what I thought we had.

I'm sorry, I know I've been saying this over and over again, but I feel like this is the only way for me to redeem myself. I'm sorry for being so weak. I'm sorry for not being able to protect you. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me the most. I'm sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me after everything that happened. I hope you can forgive me for all my failures.

Thank you Noelle. Thank you for all the memories. Thank you for letting me stay by your side. Thank you for being strong. Thank you for saying that you love me. Thank you.

I love you,
Asta

Asta's hand trembled as he bit his lips, desperately trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. He spent a good 15 minutes writing the letter for her. And with every passing moment it became harder to not just sulk in a corner and cry. He didn't want what happened with the last letter to happen again with this one.

A knock sounded on the door as a familiar voice spoke from the other side. "Asta-san, its time to eat."

As Asta opened his mouth to reply, nothing came out. So he coughed to clear his throat before trying to reply once again. This time, his voice did come out, albeit a bit hoarse, however it wasn't very noticeable to be worrying, or at least he thought so. "I'm coming Miz Charmy."

A soft sigh of relief was heard behind the door. "Alright then, just hurry up." Soon after, the sound of footsteps grew softer as Charmy walked away.

Asta folded up the piece of paper into three sections and put it in an envelope addressed to Noelle Silva. And without a moment's delay, he walked downstairs to the dining room and was immediately greeted by the black bulls.

A few hours later, Asta stands in front of a grave in the cemetery holding a pristine, white envelope containing a hand-written letter. He kneels down in front of the grave and opened one of the four boxes situated in front of the grave. He slowly, almost hestitatingly, puts the letter at the very back of all the letters contained within. He observed the letters. The ones at the very front were already tinged with a yellowish tint. While the ones at the back were a clean white.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and dark gray clouds blanketed the entirety of the blue sky. He quickly closes the box and stands up. But he doesn't leave. It seems as if something captivated him with the grave that had nothing except a person's name, Noelle Silva. Not even a birth date or death date was written.

Lightning crackled, followed immediately by the instantaneous rumble of thunder and the unmistakable feel of pouring rain. He was drenched from head to toe in cold rain. But he didn't mind. He'd rather get sick being with her than not get sick but far away from her.

He sits down next to her grave and thinks about some things he'd rather not say. Even if they were just thoughts, they still hurt him. So deciding not to resist anymore, he drops his head in an attempt to conceal his tears.

"I'm sorry," he says as he mourned her for the last time.