A/N: Good evening, and welcome to my newest TBOL fanfiction!
Just a few random notes before this quick little update: Check me out at 'scipunk63' on Tumblr for fanart for this fanfiction including never before seen photos of TBOL fanart for these fanfictions and some updates.
It doesn't have a title yet, but in other news, I'm having a contest for concept art where the first three reviews will get a scene of the story of their choosing drawn by yours truly. Just comment what you want to see and I'll draw it and post it.
Summary: What if time in the Land of the Dead moved differently than time in the Land of the Living? What if just one minute was a whole year, and what if Manolo never got back to his love in time? AU version of DEAR.
Chapter Summary: Manolo has returned to his beloved town, but finds that things are not the same as when he had left.
The town was quiet in the evening hours, as the dark soil that held it together parted. The golden light that flooded all that surrounded the part made no noise, and the peace was not yet disrupted. Not even the man who emerged could shake the foundation of the usually humble town. Its as if the town did not care enough to alert those who lived in it about the newcomer, or maybe it was the town's people themselves who just simply ignored the change. Whatever the reason, the man found himself standing quietly in the middle of the area that he had just arrived to, looking around in a very puzzled way.
"I'm... Back..." The man muttered in shock, running his fingers through his dark hair slowly as he continued to look around. "But... Where is everyone..."
A tense silence answered his question, with the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind being the only thing heard for a while. It was the type of silence that made the man feel trapped, as if the quiet was slowly forming a bubble around his very being, leaving him to unsure to take a step forward. He just felt so unsure without answers, and subconsciously made the choice not to move until he got one.
"In their homes, no doubt." A female's voice laughed suddenly, so swift and suddenly that her voice was seemingly coming from the leaves that blew by themselves. "And we should be as well. It is getting dark and-"
It was enough of a response to cause the man to leap forward, his heart hammering in his chest as he wheeled around suddenly to find the source of the voice. The first thing he saw was a set of eyes. Large, olive shaped brown ones, that went wide upon his own meeting them. Upon looking into them, he found that he couldn't look away from them despite the sheer curiosity of who they belonged to. After a long moment's pause, however, the owner of the eyes soon found the will to speak.
"Manolo...?" She gasped, taking a step back as she spoke but not enough of one that he could see her clearly. "H-how...?"
A quick step back was all it took to reveal the speaker fully. Her heart shaped face and olive skin were framed by a soft pair of bangs that fell low and curled around her large eyes. The rest of her dark hair had been gathered back into a braided bun at the top of her head and fastened back with a blue rose. At first glance, the girl looked so familiar and yet so unfamiliar all at the same time, just like this seemingly empty town to the man. Without even thinking, he found himself somewhat replying to her earlier reaction to seeing him.
"Maria..." He muttered, finding that it was the only name that he could find to put with such a face.
The girl gasped loudly in response, stepping back as if she had been stung by the name and bringing her hands up to her throat in a surprised way. Slowly, her wide eyes softened as she seemed to slowly let the name sink in, her eyebrows knitting together slowly, almost carefully. Her earlier, hurt reaction was now suddenly melting into a confused one.
"No." She said, her tone barely audible as she spoke. "I am not Maria."
"I'm sorry... You-" He was suddenly cut off by a wave of the woman's thin hand, silencing him almost instantly.
"I am not Maria." She repeated, biting her lower lip suddenly, going quiet just long enough to gather her thoughts before speaking again. "I'm... Her daughter..."
"Daughter!?" A sinking feeling settled into Manolo's chest instantly, wishes and hopes in the back of his mind that this woman was not the daughter of his Maria.
Then again, Manolo never did seem to have such luck when it came to these things.
"Nita Mondragon.."