Lei ha salvato il mondo, tante volte

   “Rebooting protocol… complete!” called the little insect.

  It had happened again. It looked almost identical to Debuu's first apparition, but Inês noticed some variations: when the blue sphere of energy dissipated, red corruptions sprung from it, shattering parts of the stone path and sending bits of the torii gate and stone lanterns flying. This time around, the bug was adorned with a short, pompon-like tail and as it opened its wings and turned to face them, they saw its deep blue eyes had shifted to a cardinal color, as had its wings. What's more, its body had lost its black pigment and was now chalk white. There was also something about its demeanor; a kind of quiet resignation that made it speak in a more human tone.

  “You probably have a lot of questions,” it said, its eyes escaping to the horizon. “But maybe we should keep them for tomorrow morning. You'll need the rest, tonight.”

  The group might as well have been turned into marble statues. Not one of them responded to the bug—what could they have even said? Lu pulled on Inês' sleeve and pointed to their former guardian, mouth agape, as if to make sure the others were seeing what she was seeing, but not one of them could have missed it. Jin had an angry look on his face, like he was contemplating stepping on the bug or worse, and Marcel was respectfully circumspect. Inês, for her part, had been watching this from afar in her mind, wondering which uncharted roads this farce might lead them down.

  “So, do you want to go back to the inn or…?”

  There was a beat, laconic in its stillness, and then, without a moment's hesitation, the four teens got up and into the shrine, closing the door behind them.

  “Right," said the bug. "That's just as well.”

  In the morning, Inês woke up two steps behind her body, yet. Lu and Jin were sound asleep, with only Marcel having arisen before her. He was crouched by the door, watching outside through a small gap. He looked at her when she moved.

  “It's still out there…" he murmured. "Waiting.”

  She went up to him and checked, sticking her head above his. Indeed, the little bug was patiently sat on the wooden step of the shrine, keeping watch like a gargoyle.

  “What is it doing?” Inês asked aloud.

  When she did, the bug turned its head to them suddenly, and the door glided open. The muted noise was enough to bring Jin out of his slumber. Lu was another story.

  “You should wake her up,” said the insect. “I have important things to tell you.”

  And just like that, the four teens were back in the shrine, waiting for answers. The atmosphere wasn't the same, though; they weren't anxious and on the verge of a breakthrough, rather, they felt beaten and bruised; tired. They would listen, because in all honesty, what else could they do? But there was no sense that any of this would lead them anywhere.

  “Before I start, let me say that I'm truly sorry. I know you must feel betrayed, and you're right to,” said the insect as it looked down. “The reason I did what I did is that I was created to accomplish certain tasks.”

  “Which are?” Jin asked in a forceful tone.

  “My orders are always the same,” it said, looking up at him. “To guide the sentai. Help them face their ennemies, save the realm, and live a magical life in Japan.”

  It looked down again after it said that; its eyes heavy.

  “You weren't supposed to doubt this. I failed my mission, so I had to reboot. I am Debuu-ni, now.”

  There was a shared silence and an exchange of glances. Again, Jin was the first to offer his thoughts: “So you expect us to just stick to the program, then? Pretend like we don't know that this is all just a sham?”

  “No. I just have to show you one thing. After that, I'll leave you be if that's what you really want.”

  “And what is that thing?” asked Marcel.

  “A piece of history,” responded Debuu-ni. “A piece of the truth.”

********

  They stood in front of the tangled forestland, the red spiderweb of velvet ribbon still shackling the trees. Debuu-ni hovered over the cordon and shook its pompon tail; with a shiver, the red strands sluggishly liquefied into a viscous substance that seeped into the soil.

  “I think I'm gonna be sick,” said Lu.

  “Well, just remember you played your part in it!” said Inês sarcastically.

  Now that they were free to move, the maple trees could sway lazily in the wind once more, releasing faint scents of sap and bark. The group moved through the woods with relative ease. The oppressive atmosphere of the day before had made way for a serene, familiar ether. Debuu-ni flew in front of the group, with Jin and Inês behind him, and Marcel and Lu closing the march. They had walked for maybe an hour when they came across the same three children they had saved from the Yuki-onna those few days ago. Just like they didn't seem to notice them the last time, they simply walked past them now, singing and playing about. Inês looked back at them as they jumped around, hiding behind the tree trunks.

  The soft winter sun shone through the clouds, illuminating the snowy glade. Evergreens surrounded the small clearing, at the center of which, one large turtle-like construction stood alone. Debuu-ni's wings fluttered and it turned to the group, its eyes humid.

  “We're here.”

  It proceeded toward it, its wings fluttering and its pompon tail shaking slightly. Inês thought she heard it weep. When they arrived, they saw it was a tall, stone dome, adorned with white lilies. An inscription in was written, not in kanji, but in the Latin alphabet, under a sigil that looked like a sakura flower.

  “That's Italian," said Marcel. "It says: she saved the world, a lot. This is a tomb.”

  Debuu-ni nodded and cried; openly, this time. Its body shaken with sobs.

  “Yes,” it whispered in a half-voice. “No one is actually here: they don't leave anything behind when they go. I built it more as a tribute and as a place of remembrance.”

  It flapped its wings and faced the group.

  “If you want the truth I promised you, just light the incense.”

  They shared a look. Then, Inês stepped forward and, with a practiced hand, lit a purple stick of incense on the small dais, stuck between abundant flowers. The smoke rose quickly, fragrant with calm odors. Soon, they saw through her eyes: a lonely young girl in a sunny Florentine street, skipping, her backpack in hand; the same girl laying on the snowy ground of the forest they all knew too well, disoriented; that girl meeting her bug guardian, a terrified look on her face; her, sleeping in the same room Inês and Lu had shared, Debuu curled up by her head, wondering aloud what the next day would bring. Then, she was stepping into the mirror, visibly nervous. They watched her dressed in a bright pink garment, leaping through the woods, dodging fireballs in the snow with courage and dexterity. After that, she beamed as she got celebrated by the villagers and laughed as she played with Debuu. They saw her cry at night, when it all got to be too much, and they saw her get weaker with every fight. Finally, she was laying down, her guardian by her side and the innkeeper in the corner of the room. The girl hadn't aged a day, but the lifetime she had been put through was penned over her face. She turned to Debuu and gave him a soft, bittersweet smile.

  “Make sure the next ones aren't alone in this,” she said in a whisper.

  Debuu wept. She closed her eyes, and they saw black.

  The ash laid and the smoke had dissipated. Inês wiped a tear. Around her, Lu was shaking, Jin was turned around, concealing his face, and Marcel was pale, his head hanging low.

  “That was Henrietta,” said Debuu-ni. “She was the first of many.”

  The wind blew through the glade, lifting petals of white lilies in the air.

  “I want you to be the last.”