Chapter Text
One day, Asta asked her, "Vanessa, why do you drink so often?"
Vanessa had a half-finished bottle in her hand, and she raised an eyebrow. An awfully odd question to ask. "Why do you ask, little boy?"
Asta shrugged, leaning back in his chair across from her at one of the tables in the main area of the Bulls' base. "I just...don't really get the appeal of being drunk all the time, I guess."
A curious smile pulled over her lips that she hid with another sip, shifting it to something more like her usual smile when she was talking. It was a bit late; dinner passed about 30 minutes ago, and the sun had already set. Maybe the night air got his gears turning. If nothing else, she always liked a new little adventure to mess around with. Accordingly, she sat her drink on the table and rested her chin on the back of one of her hands. "Why not?"
He sighed, pulling at his headband a little. (He always did that when he was looking for words.) "I guess I just...don't like the idea of...not knowing what's happening around me." He looked up at the ceiling, hooking his arms around the back of his chair. "I feel like there's so many important things you could miss...so many details about people that might have helped you understand them, or people trying to get your help. Or things you could say without meaning it, things you could do on accident."
Vanessa pondered that a moment. Well...he certainly wasn't wrong. He had a point. Then she snorted. Figures he would be worried about the people around him more than anything else, though.
He looked her in the eyes and unhooked his arms, sitting cross legged in his seat as he asked her, "So why do you drink so often? It just...doesn't make much sense to me."
Vanessa only had to take a moment to answer, smiling a little softly. "It makes me feel free." She leaned back in her chair, letting her ease move her where it wanted to. "I can do what I want, when I want. I can say what I want without a care." She shrugged and leaned forward again, noticing Asta's eyes were all on her. "It isn't even an addiction or anything. I honestly only drink for the freedom, after all that time locked up."
Asta stared at her for a moment, gaze somehow calculating and distant all at once before he nodded. "I...think I kinda get what you mean." He looked up to the rafters again...always looking sky-high. "When I was younger, and even now, I'm always aiming higher. For better places. I haven't been...locked up in a tower or anything but…" he looked down again, and nodded. "It's...the same idea."
Vanessa paused for a moment. For her, that whole forest was her cage, outside of the literal one she inhabited. It was all she had known...til Yami busted her out. Later, she'd question herself if asking a 15-year-old this was a good idea. But she said it anyways; "Did you ever feel like that town was a cage? ...Hage?"
Asta stiffened a little in surprise at being asked a question himself before he seemed to process the words. And he shook his head. "...no. The town never felt like a cage. It was where I grew up, and I was always content with its size. I knew I'd have to leave to fulfill my dreams-and so did Yuno-but it never felt like escaping anything. It felt like leaving home." He paused. "...though, some of the people...tried to make it a cage."
She looked up, intrigued, and he continued on, one leg on the chair folded into his chest and the other hanging off. "A lot of the people were so sure I'd come back without a magic knights robe, and that I'd come home alone. Like...like I didn't have anything to offer in the first place, except a role in their tiny town, and Yuno was just destined for perfection-not that I'd ever blame him for their idea of him...." Asta trailed off and stared at a speck on the wall for a moment before his brows furrowed, and he spoke, resolute; "The town wasn't the cage. They were."
Vanessa nodded.
Good words to go by, sometimes.
Home was sometimes home because of the location, and the few people you care for.
Not everyone had to be family.
Not everyone had to be home.
They simply sat in silence for a good while before Finral peeked downstairs and began squawking at Asta with his usual stupid mom routine-'it's too late for you to be up' this, 'you're only 15 you need proper sleep!' that. Bor-ing.
As Asta was dragged upstairs, Vanessa smiled into her bottle and took a swig.
"Cheers to how strangely emotionally intelligent that kid is," she murmured, before giggling at her own slur and glugging down a good few gulps.