Rooms, Robes, and Revelations

Down the immense flight of stairs they went. It was an easier descent than it had been a climb. The snow had subsided, but it felt much, much colder; a cold that seemed to intensify with every step. They took a path that Inês didn't remember being there before, though she hadn't really memorized the layout of the forest.

Marcel was steadily leading the group, Debuu hovering by his head, Inês and Lucía were in the middle, holding each other, shivering, and Jin was bringing up the rear, turning his head at the void from time to time. Before long, they arrived at an isolated inn engulfed in snow. It was warm, glowing gently from within, and nestled in a grove of red pines and snow-covered bamboo; a stone plaque engraved with kanji seemed to indicate its name. Once they got to it, Marcel read: “House of Still Waters.”

“Of course you can read that.” said Jin.

“The team always has at least one member literate in Japanese!” declared Debuu with glee. “We make sure to choose people who truly love Japan, after all.”

A short little old lady was standing right behind the bug. Inês had only noticed her now. She wasn't sure if she'd just gotten out or if she'd been there the whole time. She was about as tall as Lucía, which is to say, she wasn't very tall.

“Welcome to the House of Still Waters, esteemed guests.”

She bowed with a pleasant smile on her face. Marcel immediately bowed back like he'd practiced for this moment many times before. Inês and Lucía bowed hesitantly, as did Jin, but the latter did so, so casually you couldn't really tell if he was bowing or checking if his shoelaces had come undone.

“Please, come in.” said the innkeeper.

The group followed her inside. The place was cosy and made of wood. They took their shoes off at the genkan and agreed to go to the onsen to relax and warm up before dinner, which would be in about an hour. Since the hot springs were mixed (Marcel informed everyone that this is how things were done in the Sengoku era), they decided to go two by two; first the girls, then the boys.

The hot spring was carved into stone; half-sheltered by cedar trees that swayed beneath a quilt of snow, it was ringed by thick, cotton-like mist. The steaming water, bursting from a bamboo pipe, filled a shallow rock basin. All around, the picturesque landscape was filled with a myriad of greens from the moss and vegetation that embraced the grey of the rocks, warm from within, but also brown from the weathered wooden planks, and ever present, the white of the fallen snow. Serene and unbothered, a Buddhist statue watched over the scene.

Marcel wasn't there to teach them about the differences between modern and Sengoku era onsen, so the girls had to learn on their own. They discovered quickly that there were no stalls to wash oneself, just a bucket carved from old hinoki wood for rinsing off. After undressing behind a screen and leaving their clothes on a straw mat, they quickly took care of that so they could step into the inviting warm water. Stopping by the edge, Inês cupped her hands in the pool of warm water; there was a faint smell of sulfur rising with the steam. She brought the warmth to her shoulders and let it down on her. She took her right foot off the frost-crusted rock and dove it into the bath; the heat took her breath away. Letting herself be submerged for an instant, she floated without a thought. If only for a moment, everything went quiet.

“Nice!”

Lucía wasn't so introspective; she plopped herself right in the middle of the basin, spread eagle. Inês sat up and leaned her head against a mellow bit of moss, smiling. She had always wanted a younger sibling, and having Lucía with her felt like how she'd always imagined it.

“How old are you, by the way?” Inês asked.

“I'm thirteen. And you?”

“Thirteen?! I thought you were eleven or twelve! I'm fourteen.”

“Hey, that's not nice!” grumbled Lucía. “I can be very mature when I want.”

Inês let out a laugh. It was the first time since she'd ended up here.

“You, mature? I'd like to see that!” she said. “What do you even think is mature? Wearing high heels? Reading Catcher in the Rye?”

“Don't make fun of me! I'm not a dumb kid!”

She started splashing her with water.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Inês capitulated with a laugh.

Lucía smiled reluctantly. She quieted down after a few more vigorous waves and sat next to Inês, water rippling around them. The twilight was quietly approaching.

“You said you speak Portuguese, where are you from?” she asked.

“I'm from Porto, it's a city in the north of Portugal. You?”

“Mexico City.”

There was a silence. For a moment, they didn't need to talk, they shared the same still thoughts; thoughts of home.

“Do you like it back in Porto? What do you do for fun?”

“I love music. I take singing and violin lessons.”

“Oh, you should sing something right now!” asked Lucía.

“I don't know that I could.”

“Why?”

Inês paused. She didn't much like to talk about this.

“I sing fado, it's traditional Portuguese music, but in this place we hear each other speak in our own languages, right? So you wouldn't get the proper experience.”

“Oh...”

“But what about you?” asked Inês. “What do you like to do?”

“Well, I'm a dancer.”

“I can see that! That fits you so well!” she exclaimed. “Do you do a specific kind of dance?”

“Hum, yeah…” Lucía hesitated. “It's a traditional Mexican dance. It's called Jarabe Tapatío.”

“That sounds nice. Could you show me later?”

“Perhaps… If you really want. Honestly, I enrolled in those lessons because of my parents. They come from Guadalajara, where the dance originated, and they wanted me to be connected to my roots. I care more about manga and anime, stuff like that, but I love them and they do a lot for me, so I don't want to disappoint them. Maybe that's dumb.”

Inês smiled.

“That's not dumb at all.” she murmured.

Through the steam, their reflections blurred. They remained a little while longer, speaking in silence. When they finally left the water, they found that two yukata had been laid out for them. One was the color of persimmon, the other pine tree green. They helped each other get dressed, taking care not to tie the apparel the wrong way (Marcel had warned them that dead people wear it right side over). As they left the onsen, Inês felt something tugging at her sleeve. Looking down, it was Lucía. She was looking away and her cheeks were flushed.

“Would you call me Lu?” she asked. “That's what my friends and family call me.”

Inês felt her heart swell. She smiled.

“Let's go tell the boys the bath is clear, Lu.”

Lu looked up, a twinkle in her eye. She nodded in agreement, and off they went.

Three quarters of an hour later, the group was reunited in the dining room. It was a warm little square covered in tatami mats that gave off a soft, muted scent. In the middle, there was an irori, a fire pit used both to cook and to warm the room. Inês and Lu had been seating there on comfortable zabuton cushions, Debuu by their side, when Jin and Marcel had come, still faintly pink from their bath. The boys looked dapper in their yukata, black and navy, respectively.

“How was it?” asked Lu. “Do you feel like brothers, now?”

“Huh, maybe cousins.” said Jin.

They sat down at the already set low tables. There were lacquered trays, bowls the hue of early plum blossoms, and tiny dishes that seemed to have been arranged by ancient forest spirits with too much time on their hands. A single red maple leaf rested atop the pickled daïkon.

“Are we sure this hasn't been tempered with?” Jin asked, prodding a clear jelly that shimmered like ice.

“Only with elegance.” declared Debuu, who sat seiza style despite his stubby little limbs.

Circumspect, the four teens started dining. For a while, the only sound one could hear came from the dishes. The four would look at each other once in a while, not really knowing what to say. Everyone was waiting on Debuu to stop eating and start talking. Inês cleared her throat. Nothing. A second time. Still nothing.

“Debuu?” she asked. “We would like to know more about this mission you mentioned earlier.”

A grain of rice stuck to its horn, the beetle floated above the fire.

“Right. So, here's the deal: you were chosen to become the Shining Hearts Sentai PurePure because of your pure hearts, but before anyone can wield PurePower, they have to face a Heart Trial, a challenge not of the body, but of the soul.”

“What will that entail, exactly?” asked Marcel.

“That depends on the person. It usually reflects a repressed wound, or an unresolved fear. Some kind of hidden truth the potential sentai has tried to forget.”

After a few twists and turns, Debuu had finally gotten the grain of rice off his horn.

Inês tried to gauge the others' reaction to this news. Marcel didn't seem fazed, like he had expected something of this nature. Lu looked resolved, her hand balled into a fist, though she appeared febrile. Jin, for his part, came across as entirely skeptical, like the idea of souls and anything to do with them didn't sit well with him. Inês wanted to ask more questions, but the black beetle was already dozing off on a paper lantern. It was well and truly night, now.

“So, what do you think?” she asked no one in particular.

“I'm not sure I believe anything it says.” said Jin.

“What choice do we have?” Marcel intervened. “It's not like we have anywhere else to go.”

The innkeeper entered the room as silently as ever. Two bedrooms had been prepared for them. Inês and Lu would share one, Jin and Marcel would share another.

“You don't snore, do you?” asked Jin.

“I've never had any complaints.” answered Marcel.

They got up, leaving Debuu, now fast asleep beside the waning embers.

In their little room two futon, thick, hand-stuffed mattresses with cotton quilts, had already been laid out for Inês and Lu. The only light came from a single oil lamp, warm and flickering. As they got ready for bed, the girls' shadows danced on the paper walls. They could hear the wind outside and every creak the wood carried; there was a haunted poetry to the place. Sliding into their futon, the girls didn't say much; they didn't need to, they knew what the other was thinking about.

Inês turned to Lu.

“I'm still not sure if I'm dreaming or dead.”

Lu looked at her with kindness. She put her hand on her face. Her eyes were getting heavy. The light had been blown out; the shoji screens glowed pale with moonlight.

“I'm scared, too.” she said. “Buenas noches, hermanita… que sueñes bonito. ”

 “Boa noite, Lu… tu também. Dorme com os anjos. ”