Disclaimer: Mucha Lucha belongs to its creators, Eddie Mort and Lili Chin (any exact company as to the show's official copyright, I do not know).
Note: This fanfic is mainly centered on Zero Kelvin, a minor character from ML. None of the three main characters appear in this story at all.
White, all around me. The wind blows its chilling breath at my face as I trod through the foot-high blanket of snow. Ahead of me stood the snow-topped peaks of mountains—I do not know my purpose for heading there, but a feeling in my gut told me that the answers to all my questions would be answered. And with that in mind, I traveled on.
After an untold but seemingly long amount of time later, I finally reached my destination, where, at the foot of the rocky mounts, a cave was conveniently located. The feeling grew stronger, and I yearned for a warmer shelter, so I did only the obvious.
Inside, the cave appeared much smaller than from outside—more like a large niche than the typical perspective of what it was supposedly. But shelter is shelter, I thought as I unraveled a blanket from my backpack and set it on the ground, far from the entrance.
But when I turned around, I saw something I hadn't seen before when I entered: six candles, two of each different size, from smallest to largest and back. Also, as a centerpiece to the row of candles, stood a picture frame. Cautiously, I stepped closer, towards the "mini-shrine", and saw the face on the photo: Snow Pea.
Tears fell down my eyes. I recognized him in his green pea-pod costume and mask. But what really made me cry was his smile and his large, bright eyes. So childlike, and so innocent. And no longer with us.
A sunny and snow-free day in December—not my favorite type of day in the month, but for Snow Pea, it was a pre-Christmas miracle. I met him that day on the way home, and he appeared a lot happier than I'd ever seen him.
"Snow Pea," he gleefully exclaimed as he offered me a piece of the cinnamon-coated pretzel. He never says anything other than his name, but by showing people things, he's not completely hopeless, communication-wise. I gladly took the piece and ate it, even though I normally dislike pretzels. We chatted for some time, and next thing I knew, he drew up a column of squares, occasionally intersecting with three-square rows, and we started playing hopscotch.
I hopped on the squares and with each step, I became closer to the Home square. But as my foot finally touched it, loud laughter threw me off balance, and I fell, face-first.
"Hey, everybody," hollered a kid my age to his duo of peers—both of them heavyweights. Pierre del Fuego. "Zero Kelvin's playing with Snow Pea."
"Yeah, what a baby," jeered El Haystack Grande, one of the heavyweights.
I lifted myself to my feet, and I glared at my rival. "Well, at least I'm being a good friend. Not like you were, Pierre!"
He clenched his fists. "You liar! I was the best friend you could have, and you betrayed me!"
Snow Pea, worriedly, tugged at my light blue pants. Despite his speech impairments, I knew wanted nothing more than to leave; even more so than his own safety, for my own.
"Don't worry. This'll be over in a minute," I said softly to him before looking at Pierre again. "As for you…" My fists tightened, an aura of icy blue formed around them. He does the same, only his aura was red.
He made the first move, running straight with one fist leading; easily dodged it and countered with a sweeping kick, knocking him backwards. Feeling like the victor, I began to walk away—until I, too, was knocked down, but by a fire blast from behind. Over my shoulder, I saw Pierre dragging Snow Pea into the nearby alley. I struggled to stand, but the burning sensation weighed me down. Haplessly, I lied there as I heard the muffled sounds of physical violence.
"… elvin. Zero Kelvin." Familiar voices called out to me. My eyes opened, and through the blur of color—mostly white—I saw four faces. Once my vision fully cleared up, I gave a tiny smile. French Twist, with his white painted face and monochromatic striped sweater; Cindy Slam, acting unusually nice; Megawatt, with a Band-Aid covering a crack on the giant lightbulb on his head; and Snow Pea, with various injuries, from a black eye to a broken leg.
I attempted to sit up, but Megawatt suggested I don't. "That burn of yours is pretty bad, and you might open up the wound if you do that."
French Twist pantomimed wrapping up a present and tying it up with a ribbon. "After what happened, we decided to give you a little something," Cindy said—still as abnormally kind as she was since I woke up—as an interpretation to the mime's actions. Twist left the "present" on my lap and pointed at it.
Curious and tempted, I unraveled the imaginary-but-existent ribbon and opened the box. Even though the box was invisible, the items inside were certainly real.
"They're picture frames—one made by each of us, with the exception of Snow Pea, who was still in the hospital when we made them." Cindy scratched the back of her head and shrugged nervously. "Sorry if it's not much."
"No, I like them," I replied. "But there's just one thing I want to know. What happened to Pierre and the others? I thought they killed Snow Pea here!" I felt so anxious, I ended up rambling nonsense.
"They would've, had we not come across them." Left hand vertical, she gently punched its palm. "We normally don't hang out, but after seeing a luchador as outnumbered as he was, and after seeing you, we couldn't stand for it!" She sounded more like her aggressive self, but what she said made me think otherwise. "And if that Pierre guy threatens you, call me, and I'll kick his butt again!" French Twist, mischievous smirk on his face, mimicked Cindy's "fist in palm" gesture.
"W-we'd better go," noted Megawatt as he pointed to the door. "Visiting hours are almost over, and you need to recover." And with that, everyone said his or her good-byes (except Snow Pea, who, of course, said simply, "Snow Pea").
Once everyone else left, I began to think back to the dream I had, about the cave in the snow and the shrine for Snow Pea. And my heart warmed up, knowing that the sweetest luchador, whom I gave so little to, had given me a whole lot more in return.
Author's Note:
I apologize if some parts of this 'fic made little to no sense, or if it sounds kind of gloomy or melodramatic. I made this out of whim, mainly to make a Zero Kelvin story, and I personally found it a bit touching.
Also, the story features some hints of Kelvin/Snow Pea and Cindy/Kelvin, some subtle, and some more obvious. If you don't like these pairings—however based on minor characters they are—please do not flame me.
Constructive criticism is acceptable, and praises will be… well, praised:D