A Toast to Victory

 The mountain trail glittered with soft frost in the tender afternoon light.

“Can we keep him?!” Lu begged.

“It's not a pet.” said Marcel, determined.

The tanuki had been following them at a close distance, hiding behind a tree or diving into bushes whenever they took a break or just so much as looked at him; though they could always tell where he was because of his fluffy tail, which never seemed to follow him. Inês had felt an odd kinship with the creature and she thought he might've felt the same.

“I do wonder, though…” started Jin, looking back. “Why are they so… jumbo?”

Inês put her hands over Lu's ears.

“Jin!” she called out in shock.

When they finally got back to the House of Still Waters, the sun was setting and the sight was unsettling: a dozen or so people were waiting for them, bowed at a ninety degree angle, unmoving. There was a hesitation, then Marcel advanced, Jin by his right side. Lu slowed down somewhat, and Inês stopped abruptly; the tanuki, who had been following them, didn't halt on time and bounced on her legs like a beach ball.

“Sentai.” said an old man at the front of the group. “You saved our village today. Thank you. We are in your debt.”

“You did it, team!” yelped Debuu. “I knew you had it in you!”

It whirred toward them from inside the ryokan, looping upside down as it did.

The villagers surrounded Marcel and Jin, introducing themselves. There were rice farmers, fishermen, a seamstress… Inês made a note to ask Marcel later about Japanese introductions and why it was that they disclosed their trades in lieu of names, but right now, the boy was too occupied. She excused herself and entered the inn.

The crowd roared with thunderous applause. Lu, dressed in her crimson sentai suit, had been in the center of the dinner room, putting on a show for her fellow team and all of the villagers who had stayed with them for supper that very night. Contorting herself and doing cartwheels and aerials, throwing her mallets in the air and catching them at exactly the right time, always with buzzing, fiery sparks. For the grand finale, she did several roundoffs and finished in the splits, holding her two mallets up high, sending shock-waves of bright, orange energy.

“Bravo!” Inês clapped.

The living room was bustling with spirit. Anyone without Lu's agility could hardly walk two steps and not bump into someone. Marcel and Lu were mingling with their visitors; even Jin seemed to have let his guard down somewhat, serving sake to the villager men and laughing at something he'd heard. Inês would share pleasantries and interact when spoken to, but she wasn't much of a social butterfly that evening. There was a clinking sound. It was Marcel, trying to get the crowd's attention.

“Everyone.” he said solemnly. “Thank you. I just wanted to say a quick word. First, to you Jin.” A beat. “Lu, Inês. We came here as strangers. We went through trials and tribulations. We were lost and we had our doubts… but we came through. And tonight, we finally understand: we came here for a reason; not just because we love Japan, not just because we deserve to live in it, but because it deserves to have us protect it. So that we can defend the people who can't fight for themselves. Because that's what it means to that this power, right?” He turned to the villagers. “So, if you'll have us, we'll stand with your village, and we'll stand with this country. No matter how long until the storm passes. We'll be your light in the eye of it. That's a promise.”

Marcel held his sake cup high in front of himself and emptied it in one fell swoop. There was a stillness, then the crowd erupted in cheers. Jin, who was sitting by him gave his friend's legs a one-harmed hug as the boy was still standing up. Lu giggled and tried a little sake herself. Inês didn't see the point of sake: it did have a quick effect on her, but it tasted just like water, so she'd only given it that one go.

She got up with a plate of grilled fish and tofu skins; she wanted to see if her new companion might want to partake in the feast's delicacies. She herself hadn't really been in the mood to eat. As she zigzagged between the seated guests, she found herself in front of a small alcove in the corner of the room. She had never paid much attention to it. It had a delicate ikebana flower arrangement in muted shades of peach, yellow, purple, and white blossoms. Above it, there was a kakemono scroll she had seen before. She remembered the serene winter scene, but she could've sworn it was the first time she had seen the feminine figure at the center of it; she was turned away, but half looking back at her. Inês inspected her closely. She felt drawn, not to the scenery, but to the woman. As she gazed into the woman, she felt that the woman gazed back. Then, Inês heard a commotion. She looked around and stepped out into the hallway. It had come from outside the inn, she thought, right by the onsen. She went to check it out. Carefully, she opened the rice paper door. It was her friend, the tanuki. He seemed glad to see her. She heard a dog barking, probably on the other side of the house.

“Did someone get scared?” she asked, lightheartedly teasing him.

She gave him the food, which he was too happy to gobble up. She stayed as he ate it, watching him clasp it enthusiastically with his little paws. When he was done, she patted him on the head and waved him good night.

“Find a good place to rest, alright?” she said. “Sleep well.”

That night, there was darkness. Inês dreamed the snow fell upward. She was standing in the shrine, alone. Bathed in moonlight, she saw a reflection staring back at her in the gleaming mirror; she couldn't tell who the woman was, but it wasn't her. “When the ice shatters, so will the mask.” she heard her say. And with a gust of wind, the scene in the mirror changed to a snowy glade; a serene winter scene she remembered well.