Dance of the White Crane

 Marcel and Jin had been swallowed by the snow. Inês and Lu, having regained the spirit of the march, had realized too late that they had lost sight of the boys, and the storm was much too loud for their voices to carry far. In a sea of frosted tones, Inês could see the red torī gate, sharp and high, like a bright lighthouse in a dead black sea.

“Let's get to the shrine!” she said. “They might be waiting for us up there.”

Lu nodded, and, with every precaution, they went up the carved steps methodically. It took longer than usual, partly because of the wind and how they had to advance hunched over, almost perpendicular to the ground, but also because they could hardly tell where they were setting their feet and were in fear of plummeting back where they'd just come from. Eventually, though, they did make it to the gate; Lu falling face first in the snow. Inês helped her back up, leaving behind a grotesque engrave. They scurried to the shrine, which stood tall and still in the elements, its deck obstinately empty. Inês let her shoulders fall. She turned, looking around, her eyes scanning the silvery distance for hints. She was feeling lost when Lu tugged at her arm.

“What is it?” she asked.

Lu pointed to the shrine. The rice paper door was gliding open on its own.

“Could it be?” Lu said. Slowly, she went up the stairs and on to the deck. She looked back at Inês. “I... I think it's calling.”

Inês followed Lu. When she got to the doorway, she saw it too: the mirror she dreamed about, the mirror which had passed her over, the mirror she saw on her first day in this foreign world; it was calling her now, gleaming with the same tragic beauty and alluring light from before. The girls took off their sandals and entered the room. Lu sat down anxiously and Inês stood standing. The mirror came to meet her, unfolding its rippling magnitude as it did. Inês looked back at Lu and they gave each other a nod; nothing more was needed. Inês stepped forward. The looking glass' surface felt like lukewarm water.

When she opened her eyes on the other side, Inês was in a dreadfully familiar place. It was a faded white corridor, almost rosy in hue, and she was sitting in a chair, in a row of similar, empty chairs. Out of date magazines sat on a low table nearby and a screen, screwed high to the ceiling, babbled unintelligibly in the background. Colorful posters, like so many warnings, plastered the walls, cautioning patients against a slew of woes. Far-flung footsteps resonated in the lonely hall, and Inês felt a tremor she couldn't control; the place was cold. She tried to rub her hands on her arms, but there was nothing to be done. Then, like the warmth had been taken away, she felt the light dim as it appeared. It was a tall, looming figure; dark and vindictive. It came from a door off to the left. She knew that door, she'd been there before and she didn't wanna go back. It pushed on. Inês was frozen to her sit, cold and incapable of moving away. It seemed to grow ever larger as it got nearer. She could hear it even if it wasn't speaking its words. Why had she been so selfish? Why did she have to make that stupid wish? Why did she break their family apart? Why did she ruin everything? Inês trembled and put her hands over her ears, lowering her head to escape the wrath of the figure; that's when she noticed her. Under her sit: the tiniest, loveliest little fox. Their eyes locked and the chill evaporated. She took a deep breath. Inês looked up, her body calm. She left her chair and came face to face with the figure; it didn't seem so tall anymore.

“I'm sorry mom died.” she said. “I never wanted that to happen, but that's not my fault.”

The light was love her heart couldn't contain. It detonated in a flash and sent the tetchy figure into a pitiful cry. The passageway materialized, and the memory started deteriorating. She stepped forward to the exit, but looked back before she left; the little fox was rolled up under her sit, still. Their gazes locked once more.

“Thanks.” she said with a sad smile. The fox burrowed her face again and closed her eyes. In a formidable dance of yellow, orange, and pink flammes, she combusted.

Inês stepped out of her trial with a lighter mind, but a heavy gut. She hadn't realized it would take so much out of her to face an echo she'd had playing as mood music at the back of her mind for half of her life. Thankfully, Lu was right there to help her not fall on her face.

“Thanks.” said Inês.

“You look like hell!”

“I just got back.”

In that moment, Inês wished they could put all of this aside, be two teenage girls, and watch Heathers together. Her tired mind started to wander off, thinking that maybe with their powers they could build a television, but then they'd have to film the movie. Who'd play which characters? She'd be Veronica S. and Lu would be Heather M.; Marcel might play Heather C and Jin Heather D.? She started laughing to herself which must've been a frightening sight because Lu seemed disturbed.

“Hum, Inês?” she said carefully. “You still have to get your netsuke.”

Right, the charm. She got up, painfully, and straightened out her arm into the mirror. It felt like putting her hand into a sink after washing the dishes to retrieve a prized possession. It took a few seconds, but she soon felt the light weight of it. She pulled the netsuke out, cupping it in her palm. It was a graceful ivory crane, carved from bone; its wings were tucked and its neck folded as if it were asleep. She smiled and tightened her hand around it. Lu rested her head on her shoulder. They stood there a short instant until they heard a little buzzing sound grow closer from outside.

“What in the world are you two doing here?!” asked Debuu. “Your fellow sentai are fighting for their lives!”