Chapter Text
It was a bright and sunny day.
The sky free of clouds and a clear blue hue that made it look like an upside-down floating lagoon.
The temperature was absolutely phenomenal, perfect in every way possible when vacationing was involved.
And tweeting birds tweetling around.
All in all, it was a very beautiful day for tourists to lose sight of time and get lost in the small streets of the city, to completely pig out on every local street food stand that crossed their path and go bankrupt buying all available merchandise of the area’s famous top ten heroes.
But of course, that was all ridiculous daydreaming on my part.
I mean, how could I be so delusional as to think that my workaholic family would ever take a day off and not dive into several hundred feet of rubble each and every of hour of the day? Nope, we weren’t the type to believe in a day off, even if we were on the other side of the world and your own mother told you it was a break!
This trip to Japan should have been a very much needed and overly relaxing vacation in which neither my sister nor I would do an ounce of work-related activities, or so I was conveniently told by my oh-so-loving mother over a quick video call before I was hoisted into the terminal where I meant only drop off Lola.
I’m counting this as the third family kidnapping of my life! Forget the fact that it was a trip to the most amazing place I’ve wanted to go since I was twelve, you can’t just throw someone into a plane and call it a belated birthday gift-slash-break—my birthday was in five months, how is this belated!
All I wanted was for my first trip to Japan to not be packed with work training, for me to not be completely covered in dirt, dust, blood, and whatever the hell that goo on me was. Thick as swamp mud, crazy glue type of sticky, and the same color you get when ketchup, mustard, and relish are mixed.
God, it better be wash off!
In this bright and beautiful day, much like all the days prior to my arrival, I was prowling what had now become the undergrounds of the city after some villainous attack. What type of villain? I don’t have the slightest clue; Lola manages the detailed side of the business and I just follow her direct orders on what she thinks is best.
If she tells me to jump twenty feet into nothingness, land in stinky, ketchupie goo, and find someone dressed all in green amidst the rubble, then you bet your ass I was going to find whatever elf I was sent to find!
Unlike most locations our group was sent too, these ruins were spacious enough for me to walk through, not completely caved into to the point of not having an entrance. But I could see why Lola had offered me up as a sacrifice, there was no possible way the heroes who answered the call could get into this rabbit hole.
My belly scraped against gravel as I crawled beneath an opening, following the scent of drying blood that stained the thinning air to what I assumed has once been a dining hall. Against the other side were two large escalators, one of which had a large whole in the center where something had crashed into it.
Was this an abandoned mall?
It was here the scent grew stronger, leading the way to the center of the room, toward the dried, broken fountain speckled in droplets of blood. A bloody handprint was smeared on the side, fingers smudging the blood towards the inside of the fountain.
Bingo.
“Hi there.”
Oh, sweet freaking cheeze-it!
“I knew none of the heroes would be able to make it inside without having to blow in part of the building, and since they didn’t know where I was, that wouldn’t be a good idea.” The boy was mumbling. Mumbling to himself and trying to throw his body over the rim on the fountain and onto the floor next to me. “Never thought they’d use a rescue dog. Not that I knew that they used rescue dogs anymore.”
A dog!
The growl emanating from my chest brought his eyes up to mine, and throwing my head back, I let out a deep howl that resonated around the room. I was sure Lola would’ve heard it if she were nearby, or someone able sense vibrations could feel it through the earth.
“You—you’re not a rescue dog.” He eyed me closely, probably wondering if I was friend or foe, when he finally took notice of the black vest strapped to my chest.
The vest read: ‘Topos Guadalupe’ in rose gold letters above the emblem of a white rose. Beneath said rose was my family name engraved in the same rose gold: Pieldelobo.
“But you are here to help me,” he raised his head, sweat beading on his brow with the effort of keeping himself up. “Right?”
I nodded, jumping into the fountain with him and softly pulling him back in before he flipped over and broke his neck. He was young, about my age, and still not built completely like an adult man. The smaller size would be easier to help move around, I thought, then I saw why he had been crawling out of the fountain and judged it would be harder.
His legs fell at a strange angle. The small amount of skin visible looked strange in color, like they were a huge bruise instead of being covered in a huge bruise. They were caked in mud and blood and part of his hero costume that had come undone and now clung to open wounds.
He gave a short laugh at the sight of me staring. “Not a good sight, huh? It looks way worse that it is. If you can help me get to my feet—” I scoffed. Those things wouldn’t support his weight. “I guess you’re right. They’re useless.”
I rolled my eyes and threw myself beside him.
At this level, he should be able to see the two bags strapped to my back. One contained a first aid kit, as all Topos should have, and the other contained equipment similar to what a rock climber carried; ropes and hooks and two harnesses in our signature rose gold color.
And he was mumbling again, at a faster pace than my brain could ever translate, and I understood absolutely nothing. He felt either no pain or was so used to being in pain that he could go on long winded rants without batting an eye.
He completely ignored me as I placed a harness on myself, keeping it always tied loosely allowed me to do so, and tighten it with my jaw. The hooks bounced off my vest as I threw the smaller harness over his head. He looked up, noticed the harness, and quickly understood what he should do.
“I don’t think I can climb up.” Of course not, you’re dead on your feet and running out of adrenaline. “Even if you flatten yourself on the floor, I can only connect the hooks and hope you won’t drag me across the floor.”
I was strong enough to fling him across the room, but why would he know that? The hero agencies didn’t know about our company or what our specialty was until Lola pulled up a website, so why would a broken teen hero know anything.
Once he managed to hook himself on, placing them around my neck and ribcage, I could feel his body losing strength and going limp against my side. He wasn’t even trying to lift himself up at this point. His arms loosely circled my neck, fingers entangling together to keep himself from falling in case the hooks failed although his body was still partially on the fountain floor, not moving an inch.
Well then, elf boy, this might hurt, but there’s no other way.
I rolled. Throwing by body to the side and pulling him along, and quickly jumping to the side to give his body enough momentum to lift it into the air. Because of my height, he didn’t have a long way to fall and landed on my back with a soft moan of discomfort.
“That could’ve gone better.”
No, no it couldn’t. Unless Lola had been here to strap him to my back, there was no better way to place him that wouldn’t jostle him around like a rag doll. But he was strapped on somewhat tightly, and he was still conscious enough to hold on to my neck.
“Take the left entrance,” he said as I headed in the direction I had come from. “The building is wider. There’s a ledge leading to the second floor of the building, the one that connects to the outside parking. I wasn’t able to reach it before, but it should be easy for you.”
The boy had stamina, and the pain tolerance of Saint Lawrence [1].
“This way,” he pointed in the direction I should go, his other hand pulling at my vest and revealing yet another engraving around the neck. “Coco? Your name…” He stilled, his soft puff of breath signaling that he might have lost consciousness.
If he had been walking around the area, I should easily pick up the scent that would lead me to the opening. Him dozing off between my shoulder blades wouldn’t be a problem and finding my way back to Lola was easier outside than beneath the earth.
And it was indeed.
I found the ledge in minutes, and there was no way in hell he would have made that leap. I’m not sure why he thought I could make that great a leap. I mean, hell yeah, I could, but how did he know that?
Once I amazingly parkoured my way out of the building and into the parking, I had only to stick my nose in the air, ignore the scent of dying human flesh that were his legs, and locate the floral scent of Lola who would be with the heroes.
***
Whether being in a hospital I couldn’t read the signs to was sightseeing or not was up to debate, but Lola ignored my argument and ruled that it was. If I was not the one admitted to the hospital, it was sightseeing, and I got to navigate the hospital hallways like I navigate the ‘Where’s Waldo’ books.
But I have more luck finding this teen hero than I do Waldo at the circus. Having found him once in not-so-good conditions, finding him in a clean and sterile place was a walk in the park.
He was sitting upright on the bed when I entered the room, doodling quickly inside a notebook and writing something I could never hope to read. He looked up and smiled, hand stopping after writing the one word I understood. Coco.
“You look really happy for someone who almost lost his legs.” His smile grew, eyes shining with curiosity at the sight of my scarf with the rose emblem.
“Coco,” he grinned. “She was your rescue dog? Are there more of her? Canines with Quirks, I mean. She looked too intelligent to be an ordinary dog—”
“I’m not a dog!” The cojones on this guy, and after I howled for him! “Wolf. I’m a wolf! My vest didn’t say Pieldeperro, it said Pieldelobo. Lobo, as in wolf.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I already knew that—sorry!” I felt queasy seconds into his apology. It was the first time someone bowed to me and it just felt…weird. But the feeling was pushed back when out of nowhere, his apology stopped, and he reached for the notebook. “This is probably not the time, but what’s your Quirk? How does it work? Is everyone in your company wolves?”
He was asking something, I knew he was, but after the first few questions I couldn’t make out any sentence. The questions were coming too fast, the words sounding so similar that I couldn’t make out what was what. But I think, I think, I was just called a werewolf.
“Please, please speak slower,” I pleaded. “I can’t understand anything you say.”
“Ah, yes, you’re a foreigner.” It looked like he was trying to figure out where I came from, but in the end focused on what he considered important. “Your Quirk, what’s it called?”
“Piel de lobo,” I say, translating it for him the best I could. “It comes from our surname, meaning wolf pelt or wolf skin. And we’re more like skinwalkers or shapeshifters than werewolves.” He wrote that down, adding note after note under what he’d written already. He even added more distinguishable features to his ‘dog’.
“Did you come as part of an exchange program?”
“I came as part of my mom’s exchange program. Swapping the least favorite daughter for a solitary vacation in Guadalajara.”
“…huh?”
“I was on vacation, but my older sister decided it was the perfect time to introduce our skills to Japan.” I explained, confusion still clearly on his face. “We were told that immediate help was needed because no one knew your condition. I’m smaller than Lola and can squeeze myself into anything like a sewer rat, so I put my uniform on—which she miraculously remembered to pack—and was told to track your scent.”
“You can do anything a wolf can?”
“I can do anything a wolf can, yes, and more. We heal faster, have keen senses, tougher nails, have thicker skin, and have the temperature of a furnace with a never-ending supply of coal.”
“Is that why you’re only wearing a scarf in early February?”
“The weather is nice, and I can’t really feel the cold, and Lola forced it on me. Something about getting the company name out there or whatever.”
All he did was nod and take in my appearance. No doubt to sketch a human form next to the dog he was altering into a wolf.
And he was mumbling. Again. Lost in his own trail of thoughts about my Quirk and reason for being in Japan and being in the right place at the right time. He still didn’t have a grasp on the situation when what I could only assume was the gremlin Stripe, with spiked, bleached blond hair instead of his trademark stripe, kicked in the door to the room.
“How the fuck did you break your legs this time, Deku!”
His name was DQ? Like, just a D and a Q—huh?
I swear, this DQ boy didn’t miss a beat or even give the brain a second to process his response before declaring: “I guess I fell too hard for you, Kacchan.”
There was a moment of silence, for the soon to be deceased I guessed, because a second later the blond one exploded. Like, literally, exploded to the high heavens. Just up and went BOOM! all over Dairy Queen whose cries I could no longer understand, and I didn’t even want to try.
“Coco?” Perfect Lola arriving at the perfect time. Her eyes landed on the rabid blond trying to kill DQ. “What’s going on?”
“Se le declaró [2],” I whispered. “But I think he got rejected. Violently.”
Lola gave me a silent and questionable ‘oh’ and, like she loves to do when considering me and my thoughts, ignores my pleading eyes to not get involved. What’s it to us if his boyfriend doesn’t love him anymore, as long as he doesn’t end up dead, we’re good.
“Excuse me, but can you take your hands off that boy.” Lola, no! Blond boy be looking like a Pomeranian-chihuahua mix hyped up on cheap, bootleg cocaine—you don’t mess with that! “He’s under our responsibility and I’m not letting you get a scratch on him. Let go.”
“I’m okay.” DQ’s nervous laugh didn’t sound okay at all, and Stripe not letting him go was making it worse. “He’s a friend, and this is how he shows he’s worried…maybe.”
“He’s the one you manage to throw out of the way before the building caved in more, isn’t he?” Lola asked, shoving her way between the blond and DQ. She ignored what I can only assume were curse words and looked over DQ thoroughly. “You recovered faster than expected.”
He broke out in a nervous sweat at he looked over her shoulder and the growling blond. “T-that’s because Recovery Girl, our school nurse, came to visit. I should be out in a day or two. Likely earlier than that.”
“Shitnerd is fine, so you extras can get lost now,” the blond stepped forward, and Lola met him half way. They were now chest to chest and—Santa Madrecita de Atocha! I swear the bell signaling the start of a boxing match bounced off the hospital room walls.
DQ’s face mirrored my own. It was clear in his wide eyes that he’d heard the same ringing bell I just had and was equally as terrified. Could his Kacchan beat Lola? Him freaking out seemed to point to yes. Yes, explosion gremlin could take on Lola because we weren’t freaking immortal or fireproof. Yet.
“Lola,” I hissed, waving to get her attention but she kept her eyes locked to Kacchan. “You’re gonna get us deported.”
“I filled the necessary paperwork to get work visas for the rest of our stay.” Oh, Lola, you honestly clueless, workaholic dumb-dumb, that’s not what I meant. And I didn’t want a work visa! “I don’t care who you are to him, but you don’t get to tell me how to do my job. Until he’s checked out of the hospital, we’ll be keeping watch.”
But I don’t want to keep watch! And he looks perfectly fine to me. If you ignore him freaking out over the current situation, but he looks stressed out just by looking at his Kacchan making eye contact with Lola.
“Move.”
“If you’re not going to behave, leave.” Lola took another step forward, pressing her chest up against him without meaning to. She knew the volume of her own chest, but she miscalculated the volume on his. It was one hell of a sight to see, hilarious in so many ways because I was sure Kacchan shared her cup size.
Lola was tall enough to look down at him, the one-inch difference in height causing a visible growth in his anger that he’d probably try and exploded again. Which was equally as hilarious as the boob similarities because the boy refused to look away from Lola’s eyes and failed to notice that she was wearing three-inched heels.
“Deku!”
We all turned to the door, Lola taking a step back before moving to the side to let a girl bounce her way awkwardly to DQ’s side, after calming down from the shock of seeing two teens about to try and kill one another in the middle of a hospital room. But she looked to be ignoring that bit for the greater good of the larger group of teens coming into the room.
“There are girls in here.” Someone not-so-secretly whispered. “Really pretty girls.”
“Hey guys,” DQ nervously greeted. “Uh, this is the rescue team used to retrieve me from the building. She’s Coco and…”
“Dolores,” Lola responded, stepping in front of Kacchan to introduce herself. “You can call me Lola. I’m the head of the teenage division of the Topos Guadalupe rescue team, and soon to be the head of the international division.”
I knew it! I knew this trip wasn’t an early belated birthday gift! It was Ma’s way of getting Lola to further her career and become a freaking international Hero. Hero with a capital H. Lola you sell out!
There were some exited sounds and praises for her, making her cheeks flush a bright red, but her cool expression returned the second Kacchan moved away from her peripheral vision. All attention turned to me; their curious eyes asking silently if I was as amazing as Lola.
I’m not.
“What’re you to the team,” a redhead asked with a smile.
I returned his smile. “An unnecessary extension.”
“Coco.” Lola glared that motherly glare that told you to shut the hell up without actually telling you to shut the hell up because manners was still a thing. “She’s training to be the connection between the three countries we operate from. She’ll travel back and forth as needed, and possibly be a professional Hero recognize by all three.”
¡Trágame tierra y escúpeme en Cancún! [3]