Rebooting

  “Did I fall asleep?” asked Lu.

  It was dawn, the next morning, and the world seemed indifferent to the group's plight. The disappearance of Debuu, as well as the sentai's demotion, had seemingly pacified Truck-kun, if only for now; the machine had sunk into the nightly murk after it had collided with the tanuki. Following that, Jin had suggested—and the others had agreed—not to go back to the House of Still Waters, at least for the time being; and so they had slept in their old friend's cave, two of them standing guard at a time. The night had been difficult. Not so much because of the exterior storm, but more so because of the interior one; there was a flurry of questions everyone was asking themselves, but each of them was too anxious to speak them aloud yet.

  “Just for a little while,” responded Inês quietly.

  It was the girls' turn to keep watch; Marcel and Jin had gone deeper into the cavern, to sleep, perhaps. The sullen, grey landscape didn't offer much visibility, but their eyes had adjusted to the absence of light. Often, Inês' gaze would drift to the place where the tanuki had shifted into a downy white tree, the place where she had had her first conversation with him, the place where she had befriended him. It couldn't have been that long ago, she thought, but it was at least one lifetime away, now.

  “Say...” began Inês. “Do you think the tanuki's really dead?”

  Lu turned to her, a concerned cast on her tired face.

  “What do you mean?” she asked in a kindly tone.

  Inês looked at Lu with tears in her eyes; her voice stuck in her throat.

  “I mean… if this world is fake, then he didn't die, right? Not really.”

  She lowered her head and wept softly, her front resting against her knees. Lu came closer and put an arm around her, bringing her in for a warm embrace. The wind's shrill lament echoed as the two of them lingered.

  It was midday, now, and the group had decided to leave this world. Doing so would entail traveling roads unknown. Together, they had settled on the path behind the shrine as the commencement point to their journey, the locus that most called to each of them.

  The woods were hauntingly still, and the sky's silvery surface seemed almost reflective. It had taken the teens hours to leave the mountain. They had trekked downward on the rocky, frosted peak and up-and-down through the vast forestland. Had the sun not been hidden behind the clouds, they would have surely seen it, shining high, up above their heads.

  “Well, this is it,” Marcel said resignedly.

  The boy was standing a few paces behind the other three, dragging his feet. He had been the most morose and reticent about their decision to leave. Inês knew he liked this world and the idea of helping the people in it, whatever those people were.

  “Marcel,” Jin said warmly. “I know you think there's a good reason we came here. And maybe there is one: we did meet, after all, but you saw what we saw last night. We can't stay, it's not safe.”

  He squeezed his hand tight and brought him forward gently.

  “You're right,” he admitted, downcast.

  They walked the path of the Yuki-onna until their feet bled. The entire afternoon, they saw no one: neither villagers, nor any of the children who had told Inês that they played on this trail daily. What's more, the sylvan borough had lost all fragrance; no longer did the scent of French Vanilla hang around in the air. The group had had good hope that they would end up somewhere eventually, but every turn they had taken seemed to lead them right back to their starting point. Every skeletal maple tree looked like a copy of the next, right down to their languish sway; so much so that Lu had tried to tie a ribbon to one in hopes of signaling their route, but when she did, a shiver had run over the entire forest as the ribbon extended, connecting to every tree a mile a minute, impeding their movement and leaving the whole thing caught in a spiderweb of velvet red cordon.

  “Huh, I didn't mean to do that,” said Lu.

  Marcel fell to the ground in despair.

  “We're walking in circles… literally! We need a better plan than this.”

  “Do you have one?” asked Inês in a dry tone.

  She hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was too late to take it back, now. Lu looked at her, her eyes wide and jittery. Marcel and Jin exchanged a weighty glance.

  “Do you?!” retorted Marcel. “You're always sharing your opinion on things and critiquing us, but let's see you come up with the programme for once!”

  There was a silence. Inês wouldn't engage in a screaming match, even if she had one or two answers waiting on the tip of her tongue. What good would it do to the group when they were caught in this inescapable limbo? She instead decided to take off in the direction of the shrine. Her mind was fogging over. She felt so tired from the day of walking, and whatever puny sleeping time she had managed to carve out for herself, and now Marcel was trying to start something with her? She stumbled and nearly fell as she crossed the lattice-like red ribbon, her legs faltering like cotton beneath her weight. Lu rushed over to support her. Together, they kept walking forward. She didn't look back to check if the boys were accompanying them; she was exhausted.

  When they left the cover of the woods, the twilight's cold had melted into the silver sky for a dark Prussian blue. Wind was circling lazily around the shrine and through the forest, sending waves through the trees in predictable patterns. There was snow—like there always was. Inês let herself down on the deck; her body didn't feel like her own anymore. Lu sat down next to her, massaging her own neck and sighing softly. A little ways behind the two of them, Marcel and Jin were walking together, speaking in hushed tones. They arrived a couple minutes later, and Jin sat down next to Lu. Marcel remained standing.

  The wind spoke while they stayed soundless.

  “Does anyone else feel like they're not really living this?” Inês asked in a whisper she didn't recognize. “Like they're watching this happen to their body from the outside?”

  But she didn't get an answer; there was no time for anyone to interject, because right as she finished her question, a bright, blue light, like an orb of sapphire concentrate, appeared between the shrine's two stone lanterns. It was happening again.