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saintsr · 5 months ago

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Una nueva y esponjosa historia.

Cuervo Dulce

En una cocina se oían ruidos de cacerolas cayendo al piso, chocando una contra otra, cucharas removiendo algo, plásticos abriéndose y cerrándose, hasta que todo paró y se oyeron gritos muy fuertes.

“¡Pinche Dora! Esa niña ciega ¡Está a tú derechaaaa! ¡Sí a tú derecha! Por fin lo ves no era tan difícil, y yo porque me enojó sólo es una caricatura” Missa se ríe sólo al voltear a ver su mano ve el frasco con atención “¡No, la sal!”

Ahora se oían gritos y llantos, Missa aún así terminó de cocinar lo que estaba haciendo, al final vio su obra culinaria en un empaque de plástico mientras seguía llorando y se llevó las manos a la cabeza, al momento sonó su celular.

“¿Hola?”

“¿Estás llorando?” la persona al otro lado se empezó a reír. “El pendejo, El pendejo” luego se oye una segunda voz desde lejos.

“¿Quién está llorando es Mariana?”

“¿Qué? No, es Missa”

“Ahh, ¿Quién le hizo daño? Vamos a madreárnoslo”

“¿A Missa?”

“No, a quién lo hizo llorar” dijo la voz algo molesta “¿Quién te hizo llorar?”

“No fue alguien fue algo, Quackity” Missa se seco las lágrimas con la manga de su sudadera “se acuerdan ¿qué iba a hacer un chocolate para Philza?”

“Si” las dos voces respondieron al unísono

“pues en vez de azúcar le puse sal”

“¿Pero no le podías echar un poquito?”

“Sí, la receta a veces dice una pizca de sal con azúcar para resaltar el sabor y bajar un poco el sabor amargo “

“Ese es el problema, le eche medio salero” se puso a llorar de nuevo mientras las voces estaban aguantando las ganas de reír “ y ya me quedé sin dinero, tiempo e ingredientes”

“Bueno, ¿el Sprite está ya en casa?”

“No Roier, ¿Porqué? No le voy a robar dinero”

“¿Quién habló de robar? Aún que sería interesante, busca las vendas y curitas que tenga guardadas”

“¿Para qué?”

“Oh, tú sólo ten fe en tú hermano”

Así Quackity y Roier colgaron por fin soltando las carcajadas que estaban aguantando, mientras Missa subía al cuarto de Spreen buscando con prisa las vendas y curitas esperando no desacomodar mucho, después bajó a la sala dejando todo en una mesita y buscando que ver en televisión tal vez su programa favorito ese que pasaba a todas horas.

Después de una hora Roier y Quackity entraron con bolsas de la despensa viendo a Missa entretenido viendo la estática de la televisión sin más fueron a la cocina y vieron todo el desastre que había dejado en su intentó de hacer algo bonito con chocolate. Suspiraron dejando las bolsas en la encimera con ligera molestia y fueron a dónde Missa para jalarle su oreja para obligarlo a limpiar, así mientras Missa limpiaba y recogía los trastes, los otros dos limpiaban y lavaban las frutas y verduras además de guardar las carnes, entre bromas, canciones y bailes terminaron al final se fueron a la sala de nuevo.

“¿Entonces, para que es todo esto?” Missa señaló todo de la mesita, mientras Roier agarraba una venda.

“Tu, Cala a boca, cala a boca y ten fe en mí ¿Me tienes confianza o no?”

“pues si lo dices así, yo no” Quackity se cruzó de brazos mientras se acurrucaba en el sillón y agarraba el control hasta poner un programa interesante.

“A ti nadie te habló, estoy hablando con Missa” Roier miró con ligera molestia a Quackity mientras volvía su mirada a Missa y le sonreía.

“Tu sabes que siempre confío aunque ahora estoy dudando”

“Me ofendes” así los dos con ligeras risas Roier empezó a vendar las palmas de Missa hasta sus codos y puso curitas en todos sus dedos, mientras Quackity y Missa lo miraban con atención, después de terminar fueron a dejar todo en el cuarto de Spreen y prepararon la cena o más bien Missa daba las instrucciones mientras los otros dos cocinaban hasta terminar justo a tiempo ya qué llegaron Shaudone, Spreen, Rubius y Mariana al olfatear el aire todos fueron a la cocina para encontrar la comida apunto de ser servida y Missa sentado en la barra.

“¿Qué te pasó?” Rubius con cuidado agarró sus manos revisando de un lado a otro.

“sí contra ¿Quién peleaste?” Spreen preguntó mientras iba a ayudar a Roier y Quackity a servir la comida después de lavarse las manos.

“Al menos di que no se fue limpio que al menos lo embarrarse de tú sangre” Mariana también se lavo las manos para después agarrar los vasos y la jarra de llena de limonada.

“¡Mariana! ¿A quién tenemos que hacer pija?” Shaudone también pregunto con un ligero tono de molestia mientras ponía los manteles y cubiertos para todos.

“A nadie el Misso sólo se lastimó haciendo su regalo” Roier respondió rápido mientras se sentaba para empezar a comer como los demás.

“Si, te lastimas para hacer un regalo no te merece” El chico pelinegro con orejas de oso se llevó una cucharada de comida con cierta molestia.

“¡Spreen!” Todos los hombres le gritaron al oso negro mientras el alzaba sus hombros en un gesto de indiferencia.

“¿Qué? sólo es una opinión, No andén de intensos”

“Ayy el osito está celosito” Quackity dijo mientras Roier le picaba su mejilla mientras el oso negro se sonrojaba y gruñía.

“¿Es cierto Missa, te lastimaste cocinando?” Shaudone lo miró entre divertido y preocupado

“Ehh, sí, sí, sino fuera por Quackity y Roier me hubiera muerto” Missa desvió su mirada mientras se sonrojaba

“Mmm, ¿con qué te lastimaste?” Shaudone desconfiaba un poco ya que él mejor cocinando entre ellos era Missa pero tal vez siempre había una primera vez para todo después de todo los postres eran difíciles.

“Ya sabes cortando en trozos y con el chocolate derretido estaba muy caliente” Missa se movía en su lugar mientras sudaba de los nervios

“¿ Te pusiste pomada?” Rubius estaba olfateando a su alrededor para descubrir la gravedad de las heridas.

“Ya mamá osa cálmate, si él dice que está bien está bien vamos a comer que mañana tienen clases estos pibes” Spreen se aburrió y ya quería que todos comieran para poder descansar aunque igual que Rubius olfateo el aire para saber la gravedad pero al ver a Roier y Quackity lanzándose miradas desconfío un poco de la versión de los tres igual no era su asunto tenía cosas mejores en que pensar como hacer sopa de cuervo si hacía daño a su hermano menor.

Después de terminar levantaron todo para limpiar e ir a prepararse para dormir, poniéndose sus pijamas y lavarse sus dientes, Shaudone siendo el último dando una ronda a todos los cuartos mientras les deseaba buenas noches.

Al día siguiente todos se prepararon para irse tanto a la escuela como a sus respectivos trabajos, Roier, Quackity, Missa y Mariana agarraron sus bicicletas para llegar a la escuela, aunque Missa evitaba topes, baches y lo más importante las carreras y empujones de sus hermanos ya que llevaba su carga especial en una canastilla portaequipaje para que no se dañara y evitando que se caliente hasta derretirse.

Así al llegar a su salón saludo a todos sus compañeros esperando con nervios que llegará el descansó para poder hablar a solas con Philza, mientras esté había notado las curitas en los dedos de Missa y el objeto que estaba cuidando pero regreso a su plática con Fit y Etoiles.

Así pasaron las horas y entre más se acercaba la hora de descansó Missa se ponía más nervioso, poniendo sus manos sudorosas bajo las vendas y miraba de reojo a Philza cuándo lo creía necesario.

Mientras Philza de vez en cuando notaba que Missa se movía de forma rara en su silla y murmuraba cosas en voz baja, sólo logró detectar “gustó” y “ocultar” pero nada que revelará algo más. Cuándo terminó la última clase para iniciar el descanso Philza se acercó rápido a Missa poniendo su mano sobré su hombro para que Missa alcé su cabeza asustado y saltando en su lugar haciendo que su cola y orejas de gato salieran por el susto, Philza se rió bajó acarició tiernamente su cabeza, cuándo sus miradas se encontraron por fin habló.

“Vamos Missy ya es hora de comer”

“Si, ve yo te alcanzó en un rato lo que pasa es que tengo que hacerme cargó de algo” Se paró rápido de su lugar mientras desviaba la mirada de Philza y la enfocaba de vez en cuando en la cajita debajo de su asiento.

“Que misterioso, sino fueras tú me asustaría” Philza sonrió un poco mientras cruzaba los brazos sobre su pecho

“¿Qué quieres decir con eso? yo también soy peligroso” Missa hizo un puchero y replicaba la pose del rubio.

“Lo sé, lo sé no te enojes compañero vamos a comer y así también te acompaño a hacer tú recado” desdobló sus brazos para extender una mano a Missa.

“¡No! Digo no es necesario yo puedo sólo” agitó sus manos en negación mientras miraba al piso.

“¿Esto tiene que ver con tú misteriosa caja?” no quiso sonar cortante pero la situación lo ponía de malas.

“Ehh, si digo no tal vez es una tontería” bajo la voz un poco.

“¿Se la vas a dar a alguien importante?” sentía cómo si le estuviera dando un tic en el ojo

“Sí, no, ya te dije que es una tontería vamos a comer mejor” Missa se iba a dirigir a la puerta pero lo detuvo la voz de Philza.

“Missa dime somos compañeros, amigos, confía en mí” intentó persuadir mientras intentaba que sus alas no se vieran en una pose agresiva.

“Sí está bien es para” dio un ligero suspiro mientras Philza se impacientaba mientras rostros de sus otros compañeros llegaban a su mente intentando descifrar quién era el afortunado de recibir un regalo de su Missa “es para ti pero no salió bien y te lo quería dar porque eres muy bueno conmigo, y con todos ayudas a quién lo necesite siempre estás dispuesto a brindar ayuda además de que eres muy guapo me agrada estar contigo no porque seas guapo también me gusta tú personalidad y tú risa además de tú gorro es muy bonito Ehh mejor me calló”

Con cuidado depósito la cajita en manos de Philza, mientras él lo veía sorprendido y con un ligero sonrojo, pero con cuidado de la cajita sacó un cuervito de chocolate que estaba parado en una base gracias a sus patitas también de chocolate y unos ojos saltones de plástico que se movían cuándo lo agitaba, eso lo hizo reír un poco.

“Míralo es tan lindo” Philza lo agitaba para que sus ojos se movieran pero no tan bruscamente para destruirlo “gracias Missa, sabes que siempre me gustará todo lo que hagas lo probaré”

“Yo- yo no haría eso” Philza lo vio con curiosidad después agarró un poco del chocolate que se había caído de tanto agitarlo mientras se lo llevaba a la boca Missa lo veía con horror para después poner sus manos sobre su cara.

Philza se quedó paralizado un momento ya que él sabor a sal lleno toda su boca, no sabía si escupir o vomitar, tal vez ambas, sus alas se extendieron para esponjarse de la no tan grata sorpresa en su lengua pero al mirar las manos de Missa observo con mayor claridad las manos con vendas y curitas así que extendiendo su mano para tomar la del pelinegro observo los ojos llorosos y como poco a poco sus lágrimas corrían por su rostro juntó con unos gimoteos, así que no resistió más y fue al lado de Missa y lo abrazó mientras lo arrullaba.

“Oh, Missa todo está bien, me gustó mucho el regalo”

“pero el sabor es horrible, juro que me esforcé”

“Lo sé, pero ahora es mi regalo así que no digas nada malo de mis cosas, pero ¿Puedo preguntar, cómo te lastimaste?”

Missa se quedó paralizado un momento mientras recordaba lo que le dijo Roier e intentaba que la mentirá no se notará en su voz.

“Me quemé cuándo tuve que derretir el chocolate y me corté cuándo lo estaba partiendo” dijo esto mientras escondía más su rostro en el hombro de su compañero, para ocultar su vergüenza por mentirle al rubio mientras Philza miraba de nuevo al cuervito, tal vez el sabor no era bueno pero la escultura de chocolate juntó con el esfuerzo valían la pena, abrazó más fuerte a Missa mientras recargaba su mejilla en el cabello sedoso del pelinegro e inhalaba un poco del olor.

“También me gustas mucho Missy”.

“Así fue como su padre y yo nos juntamos hasta que nos casamos y luego los adoptamos” decía el pelinegro mientras arropaba a sus hijos para después acomodar su cabello para que no estorbara sus ojos.

“¿Pero cuándo Dad descubrió tú mentira?” preguntó el niño rubio mientras miraba a su papá con curiosidad, Missa no pudo evitar ver una mueca parecida a la de Philza cuándo tenía curiosidad “bueno eso fue…”

“El mismo día, su papá estaba nervioso y después me lo confesó, me pidió perdón muchas veces, me contó la historia original y me reí mucho por eso no digan mentiras” Philza lo dijo mientras veía a su familia desde la puerta para después acercarse y abrazar a Missa.

“Atrapada~~” La niña pelinegra miró a sus papás con burla “¿Pero entonces por eso haremos cuervitos de chocolate?”

“por supuesto, es nuestra celebración y este celebra tú primer año con nosotros haciéndonos una familia de cuatro”

“un año que rápido” la niña dijo sorprendida mientras miraba a los tres miembros restantes de su familia “¿por eso también tenemos esos cuervos de chocolate que nos dicen que no toquemos?”

“si, pero parece que fue ayer cuándo llegaste “ Philza dijo con una mirada nostálgica.

“Así es su nombre es Pachuca el segundo que hice se llama Brian y fue para celebrar la llegada de Chayanne” Missa recargo su cabeza sobre la de Philza mientras veía a sus hijos

“¿ Le puedo poner nombre al nuevo cuervito” Lulla preguntó con voz tímida

“Por supuesto, ¿ Cómo lo llamarás” Philza preguntó con entusiasmo

“Esperanza, porqué eso sentí cuando me escogieron en el centro de adopción cuándo todos me ignoraron” Lulla desvió un poco la mirada para después sentir a Chayanne tomar su mano y sostenerla fuerte

“oh no” los ojos de Missa sé humedecieron y gimoteo bajo para después esconder su rostro en el cuello del rubio.

“No Lulla era un momento feliz, no de hacer llorar a Papá Missa” Philza dijo mientras acariciaba la cabeza del pelinegro y se reía en voz baja.

“pero , ¿ si vamos a comer chocolate?” Chayanne preguntó después para calmar un poco la emoción de su papá Missa.

“si hijo haremos huevitos, cuervitos, gatitos y esqueletos para comer” Missa dijo por fin separándose del rubio para después besar las cabezas de cada niño. “Bueno vamos a dormir buenas noches niños, mañana será un día fantástico”

“Good night, Buenas noches Lulla, Gute Nacht Chayanne. Descansen mis hijos”

Los dos adultos salieron del cuarto apagando las luces y tratando de no hacer ruido mientras se daban la mano y sus anillos daban un ligero tintineo hasta llegar a su cuarto.

#deathduo #qsmp missa #qsmp pissa #pissa #q!pissa #death family #qsmp chayanne #qsmp philza #qsmp tallulah #q!missa #q!philza #q!chayanne #q!tallulah

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 2 years ago

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NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

MASTERLIST

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

p.s Good news for you, I'll try to make the chapters longer from now on so the story doesn't feel slow.

Warnings: Somewhat graphic violence, mentions of weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 3108

Almost everything was foreign to the leader of Talokan. From the wooden table covered in an embroidered white cloth to the unfamiliar smell that emanated from the kitchen and the soft music coming from an old sound system.

The elderly woman had paid little attention to him, rather instructing him to stay put while they made some coffee and proceeding to grab Mercedes’ arm and nearly dragging her to the kitchen while affectionately lecturing her for not calling in too long. While he hadn’t had much time to see her face, she was depicted in an old picture that rested on top of a shelf inside an overly decorated frame with hearts and dolphins.

A teenage Mercedes was also there, along with a middle-aged man and another girl. Seeing them together, Namor deduced they probably weren’t related by blood. Sadie was a bit taller than all of them, her skin one or two shades darker, the same as her hair. The man had dusty brown hair, as did the woman and their daughter, who was the man’s spitting image. On the corner of the room was a small table with a liquor bottle, some dry flowers, and a couple of lit candles. Right in the center rested a framed picture of the man in the first photo.

Whispers and occasional muffled laughter left the kitchen every few minutes. For a moment and quite unexplainably, Namor wondered if they were talking about him. Frowning, he shook his head and continued to scan the room, confused as to why he’d felt anxious at the possibility.

Little did he know, they actually were.

“Mijita, tú sabes que no soy chismosa ni suelo meterme en tus asuntos,” Mijita, you know I'm not gossipy and I tend to stay out of your business.

Mercedes smiled to herself when Moni spoke. She always said that before asking something that would be undeniably considered prying. With a mischievous grin, the woman moved closer to her and whispered.

“¿Quién es el muchacho que trajiste? ¿Es tu novio?” Who is that boy you brought with you? Is he your boyfriend?

“¡Moni!” She reprimanded her, shaking her head negatively with a soft laugh, “¿Y tú para qué quieres saber?” And why do you want to know?

“¿Bueno, y qué tiene?” Moni replied deffensively, “¿Sabes cuántas veces me has traído un muchacho a la casa?” What's wrong with it? Do you know how many times you've brought a boy to the house?

Of course, she didn’t even give her time to answer.

“Una, ¿te acuerdas? Aquel fulano que quería trabajar en un acuario,” One, remember? That guy that wanted to work in an aquarium?

“Actuario, tía. Quería ser actuario.” Actuary, auntie. He wanted to be an actuary.

“Ay, eso, pues. No era para ti, todo desabrido, ni estaba tan guapo y lo supe desde que tiró el salero y derramó sal por todo el comedor.” Whatever, he wasn't for you. Bland, not even that handsome. I knew it from the moment he dropped the salt and spilled it all over the dining room.

Mercedes had to stifle a laugh at the woman’s firm superstitious beliefs.

“Este me gusta más,” She continued, looking over her shoulder to take a peek at Namor, who had now wandered off into the living room and was taken by a series of photographs. “Este sí está guapo, ¿no?” I like this one better. This one is handsome, isn't he?

“¡Tía!” Mercedes admonished her once again. Christ, now she remembered why she’d only brought one guy home in her entire existence. She had to admit though that the sight of Namor wrapped in a blanket, staring at the photographs while holding a probably now cold cup of coffee in his hands was…homey.

“Ya dime pues, ¿es tu novio o no?” Moni insisted, nudging her with her hips. Come on then, is he your boyfriend or not?

“No, tía Moni, de verdad que tú no tienes remedio,” Mercedes brushed her off, leaving the room to avoid being questioned further and joining her guest in the living room. No, auntie Moni, you're hopeless.

“See anything you like?” She asked. Namor’s gaze was fixed upon a series of black-and-white pictures depicting several ruins from different angles.

“That’s Palenque,” she explained, “It’s all ruins now but I bet it was beautiful in the past.”

“It was. My ancestors knew it as Bàak.” He replied distractedly, scanning the rest of the pictures and stopping at the first one that had a person in it. It was a man, sitting on the steps of one of the pyramids staring up at the sky with a solemn expression, both his hands holding onto a straw hat. He recognized him as the same man from the picture in the living room and the small shrine.

“Who is he?” Namor asked. He noticed the way Sadie’s expression shifted into a somber, melancholic one the minute she laid eyes on the man.

“Es mi Cruz, que en paz descanse” The voice of Moni coming from behind them surprised them. She’d approached them when she noticed them staring at that picture. The woman crossed herself and placed her hand on her late husband’s face after kissing it. “Mi Merceditas la tomó, ¿qué te parece?” That's my Cruz, may he rest in peace. My Merceditas took that, what do you think?

“No habla español, Tía Moni.” Sadie interceded. “Sí lo entiende, pero él es…de un pueblito en Yucatán y hablan maya.” He doesn't speak spanish, auntie Moni. He does understand it but...he's from a small village in Yucatán and they speak mayan.

“¿Y de cuándo acá volviste a hablar maya?” Moni replied with a smirk, “Ni yo me acuerdo de mucho ya, era tu tío el que sabía.” And since when do you speak Mayan again? Not even I remember much, it was your uncle who spoke it.

“Tuve un buen tutor.” Mercedes replied, sending a knowing smile his way. I had a good tutor.

“Bueno, pero hay que sentarnos que tenemos mucho que platicar, mi chiquita.” Moni interjected and gently grabbed her arm to lead her to the table. Fine, but we must sit down, we have a lot to talk about, little one

“Gracias tía, pero de hecho…” Thanks auntie, but actually...

Namor couldn’t hear the rest of the sentence because Mercedes leaned very close to her aunt and spoke just loud enough for her to hear. Moni pursed her lips and sighed with glossy eyes. Reaching up her hand, she caressed the young woman’s cheek and nodded.

“Bueno, acá los espero cuando regresen,” She whispered and gave Sadie another sympathetic look. Alright, I'll wait here for you when you come back.

Mercedes thanked her and looked back at Namor, gesturing for him to follow as Moni showed them out.

At this point, he knew she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. The only time she’d spoken since leaving the house was to let him know they were about ten minutes away from their destination. It was unnerving to see her so quiet.

Her gloominess was a stark contrast with the atmosphere that suddenly surrounded them the further they walked. More houses began to pop out, a cobblestone road replaced the dirt below them, and before they knew it they found themselves in a tiny main square. It was a lovely, bustling afternoon. People talked to each other or purchased food from street vendors, a group of children gleefully spooked a group of pigeons just to be scolded by the elderly woman feeding them, and a young couple walked hand in hand.

Namor noticed two things: wherever they were, it obviously had a small population. In fact, Mercedes seemed to know most people as they greeted her and some even chatted with her for a few minutes. And two, most of the people around there were women. He hadn’t spotted one single elderly man in all this time. In fact, practically every man he had seen was younger than them.

Finally, they reached a large, white building. From the way it was built, it looked like a school. It had a beautiful front yard with a trimmed-down lawn, several climbing plants that nearly covered the metallic rail around the building, and many trees that, even if they were overgrown from not being properly tended to, gave the garden a nice organic touch.

The air inside was barely cooler than the outside thanks to a huge fan that hung from the ceiling, but the receptionist still waved a magazine in front of her face, only looking up from a small television when Mercedes approached her. After exchanging a few words, the lady stood up and told them to follow her down a long hall.

There were several windows lining the hall that allowed them to look outside into another garden, which had no trees, but instead a set of swings and a slide, along with a small, empty orchard and a pond where an earth tortoise basked in the last rays of sunlight.

“¿No está en el jardín?” Mercedes asked the receptionist, who shook her head. She's not in the garden?

“Doña Itzé quiso quedarse en su cuarto. Dijo que prefería quedarse junto a su ventana.” Doña Itzé wanted to stay in her room. She said she'd rather stay next to the window.

Suddenly, Namor felt something warm in his hand and looked down to realize Mercedes was holding it. Not only holding it but actually squeezing it. He looked at her and noticed how she pressed her lips together anxiously. Her touch in such a way felt foreign, but it was the meaning of the gesture that really made a warm feeling spread over his chest. He didn’t know what made her feel like this, and thus he wasn’t sure of how to verbally comfort her, but that didn’t stop him from squeezing her hand back and tapping the back softly with his thumb.

It was much easier than saying something as emotionally charged as “I don’t know what’s happening or why it upsets you this much, but I’m here for you nonetheless.”

Without looking at him, Mercedes weakly smiled when she felt her gesture be reciprocated.

Finally, they reached the last door. Sadie took a deep, shaky breath as the receptionist slowly turned the doorknob and let them inside. It was a small room with pale yellow walls and wooden furniture consisting of a bed, a large armchair, shelves with many books, a closet, and a desk with several picture frames on it. Sitting on the armchair next to the window was a woman. Her long, white hair with a few black strands here and there was carefully braided, and her wrinkly skin was splotched with the tiny dark spots that came with old age. The receptionist approached her and kneeled next to the chair, whispering something in her ear before making her way back to Sadie. She thanked her and the lady left after offering them a sincere smile and reminding them she’d be right outside should they need anything.

Mercedes let go of Namor’s hand, albeit reluctantly, as she approached the armchair. She didn’t really need to explain anything. Just one glance at the elderly woman and Namor knew what Mercedes would look like in the future when she turned ninety. That thought provoked an uneasy feeling in his throat. But back to the matter at hand, when Sadie looked at her, the woman smiled brightly and it became even more obvious that they were related.

“Chiich,” Sadie greeted her, gently taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. The woman placed a hand on her head.

“Na’” The woman greeted her, “You’re late.”

Na’. Mother. Namor wondered why would the woman address her grandchild like that, but Mercedes looked as if she’d just received a blow in the stomach from hearing it.

“I’m sorry. But I’m here now.” Mercedes apologized, carefully placing a loose strand of hair behind her grandmother’s ear.

“Na’, every year I wait for this day,” The woman said with a beaming smile, “How is she?”

“She is well. She talks of you a lot,” Sadie replied. The woman seemed pleased with the news.

“Does she miss me?” She asked

Sadie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She had to stop and look away for a moment to pull herself together before nodding with a smile, yet unable to stop a stream of tears from leaving her eyes.

“Every day. She told me to tell you that she misses you every single day, and the good memories she has of you are what keep her going until she can see you again.”

“Oh, but she’s not alone, Na’,” The woman replied calmly, “She has my daughter, my husband, and her father to look after her. And they loved her so much…I love her so much…”

The woman stared dreamily out of the window and down to the main square with a wistful look on her face.

“Xmeech…In chan nikté. It feels like only yesterday she was as little as one of those children, chasing birds.”

It seemed like she was about to cry, but she turned her head and spotted Namor who had confined himself in one of the corners to watch without intervening. Then, her sadness turned into cautious curiosity.

“He’s a friend of your grandchild.” Mercedes explained, “I told him he could come with me.” Itzé looked at him intently and finally gestured for him to approach her. He obeyed.

“Do you know my Xmeech?” She asked.

“I do, Na’ Itzé,”

“Tell me about her,” The woman asked, taking his hands in hers with pleading eyes.

He looked at Mercedes who, even though she looked as clueless as he did, nodded and goaded him to go on.

“I…only met her a couple of months ago, Na’ Itzé.”

From the expression on her face, he knew the woman expected him to keep going. He looked at Mercedes again, who made herself scarce and rushed to the other side of the room, gathering the books scattered around the desk to put them back on the shelf. This made it easier for him to continue.

“Your Xmeech is a very smart person,” He added, “And I don’t know whether to call her stubborn or persistent,” That made her laugh, and it was such an authentic gesture that it was impossible not to do so with her. “But she also has a good heart, even if she seems to think otherwise. Your granddaughter is bold, sharp and loyal to herself and the choices she makes. I respect her and admire her for that, but…”

Itzé looked at him questioningly when he seemed to doubt.

“She is afraid,” Namor continued, “I don’t know why and she won’t tell me.”

“That is my grandchild,” She chuckled softly, “Xmeech will not say anything until she wants to, in her own time. But tell me, can you protect her when she tells you what worries her?”

Namor looked over his shoulder at Mercedes, who was now pretending to clean the framed pictures with the edge of her t-shirt in her attempt to keep herself distracted.

“I can, and I will.”

“Then I am at peace,” The woman affirmed, “Knowing K’uk’ulkan is the protector of my grandchild. Yes, I knew right when I saw you.” She continued before he could say anything else. She reached out and carefully slid her hand along his face, carefully tracing his features with her fingertips. The gesture was so motherly familiar that he couldn’t help but feel a tight knot in his throat.

“You’re just like I imagined you to be whenever I heard my mother’s stories,” Itzé whispered, “I’m really tired. Tell Na’ I will see her next year. Goodbye, kän-än.”

The woman gently leaned back, resting her feet on a small stool before her, and closed her eyes with a tranquil sigh. Namor watched her sleep in silence until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Behind him, the younger vision of the woman before him helped him get up.

“I didn’t mean to take up all your time,” He apologized, “She said she was tired and…”

“I know, it’s okay, maybe we can come back later,” She assured him, “Come walk with me, please? I need some air.”

He looked at her intently. From her large, brown eye now reddened and puffy to the thin line that her full, bronze-colored lips turned into whenever something troubled her. Namor realized with an unnerving certainty that even the strongest resolve could be shaken under that gaze.

They decided to take a stroll along one of the empty streets, under the trees that provided a pleasant shadow and the noise of hundreds of birds that would hide their conversation from other ears.

“She doesn’t know I’m there,” Mercedes blurted out after they left the last person behind, “She thinks I’m some divine messenger from the afterlife that every year delivers her news from her family there. I try to come every month but she still thinks I come once a year.”

“She thinks you’re dead?” He inquired, hoping it didn’t sound too blunt.

“I was taken away from her, a few years ago,” Sadie explained, absently looking at her hands, “By the time I was able to come back, her mind had deteriorated too much for her to understand what had happened. So she will never know I ever came back.”

“I’m sorry,” Namor sincerely apologized. This time, unlike the previous, he didn’t fight the urge to place a hand on her shoulder. However, Mercedes nodded and tapped it a few times before gently removing it.

“It’s not your fault.”

The conversation stopped there. They kept walking around a corner to make their way back to the main square. While the streets were empty, the atmosphere wasn’t somber, but peacefully quiet.

“You never told me your Chiich was still alive,” He eventually said.

“I never told you she wasn’t, either,” Mercedes replied defensively. Realizing she’d spoken more harshly than she intended to, the girl cleared her throat and softened her voice, “Nobody, not even the friends I’ve managed to keep for years, knows about her.”

“Why?”

“I’ve…done things over the years. The kind of things that, as cliché as it sounds, earn you a few enemies. She’s the only family I have left in this world. I’d do anything for her to live out the rest of her days quietly and in peace.”

Her voice trembled when she uttered that last sentence. Almost certain of the answer, Namor made her another question.

“What did that man say to you on the ship?”

Mercedes sighed as if she already knew he would ask that. Her eyes turned glossy again, even if she tried to speak nonchalantly, stating a mere fact.

“He said it was his turn to ask questions and then he said…’Is your grandmother well?´”

He couldn’t blame her for having reacted the way she did. To hide someone so rigorously for years to protect them from any harm just to have someone inform you in the same sentence that not only did they know about them, but intended to harm them? Eerily familiar.

“It was never about the entire seven billion people on this planet. I’m not one of my aunt’s saints to give my life to people I don’t even know. But I would gladly give it for her, or my aunt, or many of these people, as my father…”

The same group of kids interrupted her when they ran in front of them, this time busy loudly playing tag. This made her laugh a little and wipe her eyes. She turned to look at him to find him staring, probably wondering when she'd finish her sentence. His glance, however, wasn't impatient. It was concerned, sympathetic. It felt warm, like the rays of the sun that paled in the sky right about to set.

“You know what? My aunt is waiting for us. We should go.”

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