A/N: Happy N7 Day, for those who celebrate it. ;D Now onto something completely unrelated.

tentenbaby - Leo needs some cute in his life, dammit.

DuckiePray - Writing these chapters have given ME flashbacks to 'Hollow Hearts' and what a hard time it was for both me and Leo...There's more progress to be made. And I'm sure you'll like how that plot point is handled. When the time comes. ;)

CHAPTER 15: XOCHICUICATL

Despite Tlahcoyan's hollow center and expansive space, Izel felt like a hostage, chained to a boiling pot by the mistrust of every woman in her tribe. They rotated their watch so the skinhead was never left unsupervised and she muttered curses against their ancestors as she thwacked her stew with a wooden spoon.

"The day grows worse and worse," she grumbled.

"It has barely started," Coyolxauhqui said, chuckling.

Izel flashed a look at her curly-haired friend who chopped manioc roots beside her. "For you. While you and Leo were sleeping past sunrise at Huelihca—"

"We had been practicing 'Sakura, Sakura.'"

"I was gathering water. And who approaches me at the bank? Tlaloc."

"Oh." Coyo's smile fell. "Was he seeking me?"

"He raised quite the commotion about it, too."

"He could not stand one morning without me?"

"Evidently not."

"He knows how busy I have been. This is my first year as host. I want everything perfect, and…Why such a face?"

Izel hummed, stirring her stew haphazardly. "Had it not been for Leonardo, your interest in Xochicuicatl would be near nonexistent."

"Wh—what?" Coyo saved her finger from being sliced. In a lower voice, she added, "Nonsense. Today is for my people. They need this."

"So all your hard work has been for them and not Leonardo?"

The Chieftain resumed chopping, her sigh lost under the knife's clanks against the table.

"Does he understand what it means to sing together?" asked Izel.

"He will sing should he feel well enough. I will play my Ocarina."

"Yet the song is the same."

Coyo raised her eyes, petite mouth puckered. "What harm is there in introducing a new song?"

"The song is not harmful."

"I am a host, a guide. Without me, Leo would be lost."

"Maybe if he knew the meaning behind Xochicuicatl, not the summary Huitzi provided, he—"

"I shall explain as the night progresses, to him and the people. Details aside, our attendance together is irrelevant. He is not a formal tribe member."

Izel quirked an eyebrow. "Few will agree, especially the Elders and Tlaloc."

"Tlaloc does not own me." Coyo cut into a new manioc as if beheading a prisoner. Her brows furrowed and her chopping intensified. Her voice, however, was gentle. "I convinced Leo to sing, Izel, to open himself up, even a little. I cannot abandon him."

"The choice is yours." Shrugging, Izel leaned over her hot pot. She slurped a sample of stew from her wooden spoon then tasted another sample for good measure. She savored its saltiness, sending her best friend a sidelong glance. "This is a terrible idea. Mark my words."

"Yet you will support it."

"You have helped me through countless bad ideas. About time you had one of your own."

Izel giggled as Coyo tossed a hand-full of manioc bits her way. She mirrored the Chieftain's smile, despite chides from the elder women, and prayed to Ometeotl that, for Coyo's sake, the night would be memorable. And not in a way like last year's festival.

Xochicuicatl always made K'ekchi Village seem so upbeat and grand—whether through the influx in activities, the rhythmic drums, the kiosks of local delicacies, or the bright decorations that stretched from hut to hut. It left the people with a sense of brotherhood that let them forget, even for one day, their war against the Yaoqui, and Coyolxauhqui held no guilt in preoccupying herself with the distractions it offered. She smiled at Yolotli, following his lead through throngs of people.

"Awk!" the cochotl squawked. He spun in a tight circle then dove to a figure that stood a head taller than any other man in the village. "Yo find Leo!" he screeched in Nahuatl.

"Good boy, Yo!" Coyo called.

She squeezed by an elderly couple with apologies before stopping at Leonardo, arms akimbo. The turtle-man shifted from one leg to the other, and he rubbed his elbows, shoulders, and face almost in search of things that were no longer there. He glanced Coyo's way, but only for a moment.

"L—Leo well?" Coyo asked. "Need Kokee? Tetani? Chicha?"

Leo shook his head—an act that Yo protested with clenched talons. "It still gets to me," he said, flinching.

"What get Leo? Something bad?" Coyo spun in search of anything suspicious at the crossroads around them. Why did that make the turtle-man laugh?

"I mean walking with humans," he added. "Where I'm from I—I could never do this, so it seems…unnatural."

What sort of people did Leonardo once live amongst? Surely not the kind that deserved him.

Coyo puckered her mouth, saying, "Leo natural. No shame. He walk village free. With Coyo."

The turtle-man no longer watched the bustling crowds; he stared at the woman, stoic. For the first time, she noticed his irises were a beautiful mix of red-brown like an eclipsed sun, and they held an indescribable power. It pained Coyo's chest, rendered her mute until his gaze traveled down her body.

"O—Oh," she said, "Leo like?" The woman twirled, her fur-trimmed wrap fanning around her. Her limbs jangled from the bells tethered to her feathered bracelets and anklets, and she smiled while adjusting the gold armlet on her right side. "Leo like?" she asked again.

Leo blinked. "U—uh, yeah. You're very…blue."

Coyo's chest puffed with laughter, reminding her how restricting her wicker weaved top was. "We call blue 'texoticyapalli.'"

"That's a mouth-full."

"Mouth-full? What in mouth?"

"Words. It's an English saying. Go on."

"Ah." Coyo nodded stiffly. "Blue mean much. Freedom. Strength. Rebirth. Loyalty. Faith. It powerful."

"Powerful?"

"Quema." Coyo grinned, although it weakened under Leonardo's distant stare. "Leo?"

"Guess if I had my bandana-mask, I would've fit right in," he said.

"Banana?"

"Bandana. It's a strip of fabric I wore over my—" Leo stopped himself, hands beside his head. He sighed, and Yo pecked his fingers when he massaged his scalp. "Forget it. So, wh—what do we do now?"

"Fun," answered Coyo with outstretched arms.

"But aren't you the host? Are you allowed to...roam? Maybe I should go back to the Library."

"Amo!" Coyo caught Leo's hand, squeezing it. "Please. See festival. Try food. Wear mask. Sing."

"About that." The turtle-man paled from a leafy green to near-gray. "Maybe we shouldn't. Huitzi—"

"Song beautiful. Must share, Leo." The woman pulled the turtle-man closer to the point where he bent over. She begged with her eyes, and Leo's gray coloring darkened.

"I—I'm not sure I'm ready," he whispered. "I—I'm sorry."

"Le—Leo can change mind," added Coyo. She smiled as Leonardo straightened, even though it could not mask her disappointment. "Leo no worry. Coyo show Xochicuicatl. After, Coyo must—"

"Host?"

Coyo sighed. To say she was eager to parade around the village, extending blessings and performing ancient rites, would be a lie. Her only experience stemmed from the years she tagged behind her mother, and those times were few since she and Izel often sneaked away.

'I should have paid closer attention,' Coyo thought, her stomach in knots. 'Back then, I figured I had many years to learn from Mantli. Then she was taken.'

A year ago today, to be exact. The realization hit suddenly.

"Co—Coyo, are you about to cry?"

Coyolxauhqui sniffled, but not one tear fell from her prickling eyes. "Today fun," she said. "We play. At sunset, if Leo scared—"

"Who said I was—?"

"Leo no sing. Okay?"

Leo kept silent a long moment. In the end, though, he smiled, saying, "Deal. So what comes first?"

How could time have passed so quickly? Somewhere between the kiosk browsing and Nahuatl tales, the sun had set, and Leonardo's guide had switched from Coyolxauhqui and Yolotli to Izel. He had been leery about the change at first, especially given the amount of food the skinhead forced on him. But by the day's end, he felt at ease, content to loiter by a giant bonfire inside Tlahcoyan.

"Final sample," Izel told Leo. She held out a stick coated with something that resembled crystallized honey, and the mutant studied it through narrow eyes. "Huehuei Ometeotl." Izel scoffed. "Leo's Ihiyotlxayacatl should be quimichin, mouse—timid and scared."

Was she calling him the K'ekchi equivalent of 'chicken'?

Leo frowned then adjusted his Spirit Mask, which fit poorly on his wide head. "What is it?" he asked.

"Try."

"But—"

"Try."

Huffing, Leonardo accepted stick. Dark spots speckled its amber color, but he knew he had to bite it at least. So he did.

Izel smirked. "Good?"

Leo neither nodded nor shook his head, evaluating the semi-sweet, crunchy goo.

"Is azcatl," added Izel. "Ants."

Ants? Leo gagged then spewed out what he chewed in a single motion. He swore he felt movement in his mouth, wiggling, and Izel turned bright with laughter as the mutant scraped his tongue with his teeth.

"Le—Leo is ayolt," she said, wheezing. "Wh—why azcatl odd?"

"A mutated turtle," Leo countered. He spat out the remaining goo then met the skinhead's sobered stare.

"Mutated?" she questioned. "Mean 'changed'? Leo no born this way?"

"Here you two are," a male voice interjected. Leonardo looked away to find Huitzilopochtli. The man approached the bonfire's light, gimping with his decorated staff. He sounded weary, although he kept his chin lifted and back straight.

"You no find us today, Huitzi," Izel said. "Lost?"

The tribesman lowered his brows. "No. Been following Coyo."

"She is host. You proud, yes?"

"She is behaving. For now."

"And?" Izel rolled a shoulder then gestured towards Leo. "I behave, too. Guide Leonardo. See?"

Huitzi faced the mutant then smiled. "Ozomahtli?"

Leo removed his half-mask with a sigh. He ran a thumb over the blue border around the eye sockets, its wooden texture smooth like wax. "Coyo said I needed happiness. Or something."

"Ozomahtli Ihiyotlxayacatl, the Spirit Mask of the Monkey, symbolizes laughter. It shows joy inside the wearer like a pinpoint of light. He cannot reach it, but he wants to."

"That's remarkably accurate." The mutant forced a laugh that turned into a scoff then slipped the mask back over his head. It may not have been his bandanna-mask, but it comforted him all the same.

"Leonardo had long day," added Huitzi. "Should rest."

"Huitzi—"

The tribesman met Izel's glare. "The sun has set. Best he leave. Now."

"Is something wrong?" Leo asked.

The duo answered in Nahuatl. Figures. Leonardo watched their ping-pong match of retorts, their voices hot like the bonfire they stood beside. What the hell were they upset about so suddenly?

"I—is this about me being an outsider?" questioned Leo. He went ignored. "I hate it when you guys do this to me."

"Leonardo should return to Library," Huitzi said. His orange eyes found the mutant. "The night belongs to lovers."

Wait. What?

"Huitzi, do not—"

The tribesman shook his staff, saying, "Look around, Cuamahui."

Leo did as he was told, albeit reluctantly. The bonfire revealed no one tribesmen in Tlahcoyan lacked a partner—whether they danced, played music, or lingered on the sidelines. Some gathered in family groups. Others were expecting. Or both. Those remaining fastened flowers to each others' arms, almost like a promise of some sort.

"I—Is this…?" Leo trailed off, eye ridges knit as he met Huitzi's gaze again.

"Coyo will hate you," Izel hissed.

"I had hoped she would not be foolish," countered Huitzi.

"It is a song."

"It is a tradition she trods upon."

"You believe that? Or do Elders tell you so?" Izel's glare challenged Huitzi, who faltered. He closed his mouth as the skinhead continued in her native tongue with words that were drowned out by the crackling fire and thumps from nearby drums.

"I—I don't mean to overstep any boundaries," Leo said. "Truth be told, I'd rather not be the center of attention. Having eyes on me is—" The mutant shivered. All those humans, watching, scrutinizing, like Lombardo. The thought alone made his pulse race.

"Tlaloc!" Coyolxauhqui's distressed voice pierced the night. "Shee-moh-kah-wha!"

A harsh force spun Leo sideways before he could spot the Chieftain, and he glanced down at a well-built tribesman dressed in almost as many accessories as Coyo.

"Ayotl has no right," said Tlaloc lowly. "Ignorant Yaoqui cannot sing."

"I'm realizing," Leo replied.

"Tlaloc—"

Tlaloc brushed aside Coyo then tightened his hold on the mutant. "Coyo silly. Elders no grant permission. And Ayotl silly. Let her try."

Leo wanted to pry Tlaloc's fingers away; however, the tribesman's scowl left him frozen. Not from fear, but from familiarity. Once, he had used such a look. Now, he couldn't recall what righteous indignation felt like.

"Your body healed," Tlaloc added. "No need to stay. Return to your world. Leave us in ours."

"No!" Coyo broke the males apart. "Leo can stay. Coyo want Leo to stay!" The Chieftain looked up at Leonardo, orange eyes begging. They left a pit in his stomach that was both exhilarating and puzzling. Did she dread his departure that badly?

"Yaoqui has no place in village," Tlaloc spat. "Has no place with Chieftain."

'Hold it.' Leo felt the tribesman's grip loosen. 'Is he jealous? Does he think Coyo and I…?' He glanced at the curly-haired human then back at Tlaloc.

"You're right," he whispered. "I had no idea what singing with Coyo would mean. Sh—she never told me. I'm sorry." Perhaps Tlaloc had expected worse; his hand fell, and his expression dropped when he stepped back. Still, the shock didn't keep Leo from adding, "If Coyo says I can stay, though, that…that's what I want. At least for a while longer. I—"

Wanted the ghosts kept at bay. He saw them less and less as the days passed. Whether that was thanks to Coyo or the K'ekchi as a whole mattered as much as time.

"I won't make the same mistake twice," Leo continued. "Forgive me, all of you."

The mutant bowed towards the elderly folks who had joined the commotion at some point. They studied with their bright eyes, feathered headbands swaying with their movements as they addressed Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc. Who knew if they understood? It seemed like they did on some level, but Leo lacked the patience to find out. The day had been long, and not even Coyolxauhqui's touch or the nagging possibility of a nightmare could prevent him from leaving Tlahcoyan.

A/N: Coyo, that was some vital intel! I swear, sometimes that woman needs a good shake. Next, we'll see how Leo handles her lie by omission, so stay tuned.

Tlahcoyan (Tlah – coh – yahn)
Xochicuicatl (Show – chee – kwee – cal) = Flower Song Day
Cochotl (Coach – ohlt) = Bird/Parrot/McCaw
Texoticyapalli (Teh – show – teec – yah – polly) = Blue
Amo (Ah - moe) = No
Mantli (Mant - lee) = Mother
Ihiyotlxayacatl (I – he – yolt – sha – yah – catl) = Spirit Mask
Quimichin (Key – me – chin) = Mouse
Azcatl (As – cahtl) = Ants
Ozomahtli (Ah – soh – mahtl) = Monkey
Ayotl (I – yohtl ) = Turtle
Cuamahui (Kwah – ma – whee) = Friend/Ally