Who Are You?

  It was like an apparition; foreboding: the boy arrived, leaping through the silver sky as the hailstorm subsided. A rising fog permeated every surrounding, seeping forward from the woods in a thick, white wave, and attaching to Marcel in soft, cotton-like strands as his sentai uniform rippled in the breeze, his mirror fan reflecting the muted light with every movement.

  “Marcel...” said Jin, his voice but a forlorn whisper.

  He landed gracefully, in a keen genuflection between the two stone lanterns at the base of the deck steps, as the last drops of hail beat a primal song on the roof of the shrine. Dour, he rose and scanned the group with a coup d'œil of his electroplated eyes, analytic and aloof.

  “Marcel?” Inês asked with caution. “Did… Did you accept Truck-kun's proposal?”

  Detaching his gaze from Jin, Marcel riveted his eyes on her; vacant and cold, his was an alien sight. Inês felt a shiver run along her spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  “Guardian,” said Marcel, his voice straight and narrow as he turned to Debuu-ni. “I'm here to start my mission.”

  A blanket of silence fell onto the shrine. Slowly and wordlessly, Inês and Lu got to their feet, watching the scene unfold with attention. Jin, who had been standing on the deck the whole time, descended the wooden steps at a stately pace, his yukata flowing in concert with the wind. He stopped a mere centimeters away from Marcel, their faces only breaths away.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice loud, but trembling. “Why would you abandon our fight for a fantasy?”

  There was a tremor on his tongue. Jin had his back turned to the shrine, but Inês could tell he was beginning to tear up. She swallowed her nerves, Lu's hand clasping her wrist tightly as she fixated on the hind of Jin's head.

  “Why would you give us up?" he continued, his every word charged with sentiment. "After everything we've been through…”

  Distant, Marcel looked down at Jin with a stony gaze. He stood like a stake, with his feet planted still and square on the ground. Inês noticed Lu's breath on the side of her face, getting deeper and losing rhythm. There was also a cold sweat in the palm of her hand. She must have been on tenterhooks, thought Inês.

  “You said you loved me,” recounted Jin, his voice breaking halfway through. “You said… You said we'd make it out of here together.”

  Inês thought she saw something pass behind Marcel's eyes, something like a glimmer. The boy flickered a quick instant. Then, composing himself, he asked: “Who are you?”

  The question was simple and it was free of passion, but Inês could have sworn she heard Jin break. There was a lull, during which only the unsettled wind sounded off. Then, Jin extended for Marcel, his hand slow and uncertain, but, with the skill and speed of an experienced fencer, the latter deflected his reach with a brisk movement. The sound echoed with hardheartedness in the yard's vast expanse.

  “You shouldn't go for people like that,” said Marcel. “You might upset them.”

  And just like that, Marcel walked past Jin, his stance cold and foreign. Although the latter's head hung low, he remained quiet and steady, only the fabric of his wear stretching out to the sentai along the zephyr's blow.

  “I was told you would possibly offer me guidance,” said Marcel calmly as he addressed Debuu-ni.

  The bug took a pause, staring a disenchanted red glare from atop the stairway.

  “I think you're under someone else's care right now,” it responded simply.

  Marcel took a breath and looked around. Lu shifted and averted his gaze before it reached her; Inês could feel how tense and uncomfortable she was. For her part, she maintained eye contact, full and direct, a potion of revolt and indignation boiling up in her stomach.

  “I have places to be,” said the boy finally. “People to save.”

  With that, he turned back and started walking away, passing Jin without a second glance. The sound of his every step was shushed and wet. Then, with one half-look over his shoulder, he added: “You should have let yourselves see the light. We could have been a team.”

  And he sprang through the mist, piercing the sky with tender velocity as he did.

  There was stillness in the boy's wake. For an interminable moment, they watched his shrinking silhouette disappear on the horizon. And then, a heartrending cry resonated with great pain. As the fog closed on Marcel like a curtain call, Jin fell to his knees, shaken by distressing sobs. Unlocked, Inês and Lu ran to his side. Tears streamed down his face as he began hitting the stone pathway with his fists. Each posted on either flank, the girls tried as well as they could to comfort their grieving friend.

  “His memory's been edited, but maybe it can be brought back,” said Inês. “Right?” she asked Debuu-ni.

  The bug fluttered to the group in a sharp buzz, its little pompon tail oscillating in a quiver. Its expression was unreadable.

  “I... I don't know,” answered Debuu-ni.

  Inês let her shoulders fall. Stroking Jin's back as Lu cradled him, she thought back to the very first time she had met Marcel; his tranquil composure, his vast knowledge, and his wisdom had been like an anchor to her apprehensive mind, adrift in this phony world's confusion. She thought back to the boy's heart trial and everything he had been through before they had all come together in this strange, scary place. She thought back to his awkward attempt at an apology the night of the tanuki incident, and how she wished she had been more amicable that evening.

  Finally, she spoke: “If there's anything that can be done, we'll do it,” she said.

  “We will,” assured Debuu-ni with a nod. “Starting with the three of you.”

  Inês looked up and exchanged a glance with Lu before looking back at the bug, a questioning bearing on her face.

  “Be prepared," it added. "We'll be making you into warriors soon enough.”