"Thank you for flying with Hawaiian, we wish you safe travels and to come home soon." I've always been a homebody, mostly because it was unavoidable. With taking care of my younger sibling and ailing grandparents, even something like going to the mall with friends was a luxury.
Of course, the exception to that was when I'd go hiking or biking with my older brother, Leon. (Or to the shooting range. Or to his art shows.)
Okay, maybe not so much of a homebody. Maybe I'm just someone who doesn't appreciate big changes, like moving to California for film school, no matter how much I've wanted this. Clearly, this was a shock to my parents, nearly as much of a shock as it was for me to become the youngest writer of a television pilot episode to come out of Hawaii. No one really expects it from the teenage girl who, when I'm not doing any of my aforementioned activities, sleeps at any chance I get. The teenage girl who hates being shoved into the spotlight, who'd much rather hear about my new scripts, films, or episodes via social media instead of a glamorous premiere-
A group of cackling college students trample past me, laughing their asses off, and I have to backpedal to avoid them. Nice. Not even five minutes into living on the mainland, and I'm already being stepped on.
———
First major difference between Honolulu, Hawaii and Mariner Bay, California? I've never once had to take a taxi. (And Ubers and Lyfts don't count.)
This is mostly because my parents forbade me from doing so, meaning I'd get frequent rides from the family's driver, George. The older Japanese man was oddly sad when I'd finally gotten my license and said that he'd miss my storytelling while we sat idling in traffic.
The memory makes me smile, even as I stare out onto the unfamiliarly busy city street. Now, George is an ocean away, undoubtedly reassuring my parents that I'm doing okay, that Mariner Bay can't be that different from Kahala, can it- "Ma'am?" The taxi's pulled to a stop in front of a building that I vaguely recognize as the one I'd rented out a unit in. Somehow, it's cheaper than living on campus. (Not much different at all.) "This is your stop."
"Great, thanks." I hand him the payment, then collect all my luggage and haul ass up to my unit. It's cozy, not small enough to be restricting, but not large enough to have too much space for one person. Nice. Thankfully, it doesn't take me too long to unpack, since I think I spotted a cafe downstairs while struggling with my belongings.
———
The aforementioned cafe- Bishop Street Cafe- is bustling with mid-afternoon customers, so as I wait for a table to clear up, I pull out my notebook from my purse and flip it open. An unfinished idea for a script fills the first few pages, and I can't help the cringe that passes over my body. That plot had been a bust, full of holes, not to mention confusing.
But just like being here, miles and miles away from home, I can always start fresh, right?
"Mocha latte for Ally?"
I smile at the barista and reach for my usual order. "Yeah, thanks so much." She doesn't meet my gaze, her eyes somewhere reaching over my shoulder, a frown on her face. "Sorry, is there-"
The glass window behind us shatters.
———-
Extremely sheltered from life or not, I haven't lived under a rock. I've heard all about those groups of people in multi-colored suits, the ones that call themselves the Power Rangers. Pretty sure there was even a group of them that lived on the space colony, Terra Venture. I wonder how space is, and if my silly sci-fi scripts can even live up to it.
I also wonder if the Power Rangers fight things like the shadow monsters that've just leaped through the window frame. There aren't that many, three at the most, if I count the pairs of all white eyes and wings that extend as they screech, but just one of these things could... could do what, exactly?
I don't think I want to find out. My first thought, once I'm certain I won't panic, is to check the doors. Clear. (Those things must not be too smart, terrifying or not.) "Everyone out!" The chaos that'd erupted when the window shattered turns to a semblance of order as the customers make mad dashes for the exit.
See, I would run, too, except I can't. My limbs weigh me down as my breathing quickens, my head whirls. Of course, I'd be getting a panic attack now, of all times, but I'm not sure if anyone can really blame me. Up close, the shadowy monsters are impossibly more terrifying, crooked mouths opening as they snarl at me, filmy gray pupils darting around.
Their wings are the freakiest part, though. Despite the rest of the creature's body holding a faintly humanistic form, the wings are barely recognizable, flickering in and out of existence like shadows. And are those horns on their heads?
All the self-defense classes in the world couldn't have prepared me for this. The hours spent at the shooting range with Leon, who will undoubtedly hear about this insanity not a day after I leave for college-
"Hey, fuckfaces!" I'd been so busy staring straight into the creatures' disgusting faces, I'd totally missed the guy in the firefighter coat and cowboy hat circling around behind them. He hadn't been in the cafe earlier, so that civilian is ridiculously putting themselves in harm's way. Which, now that I think about it, is what I'm doing, too. The cowboy-firefighter's taunt works, though, and the creatures spin towards him.
He doesn't even flinch. "Yeah, that's right. Fuckfaces. How y'all like that?"
Based on the snarls they let out, not very much. The man's eyes dart towards me, but not long enough for the creatures to notice he's distracted. This guy knows what he's doing-
Someone yanks my arm, then barely avoids my elbow to their face as I turn. This guy is Asian, with short, wavy black hair, angular features, and the same firefighter jacket as the cowboy.
"What are you doing?" He hollers, as if he's not standing right next to me. "Get out of here!" For the few split seconds that he's had his head turned away from the street, more and more creatures have already spawned into existence. Wonderful. The world's ending, and I'm being assisted by weird looking firefighters?
Fortunately, he notices my terrified reaction.
Unfortunately, he gives his own a few seconds too late. The bat-like creatures leap at us, wings lengthening and stretching, and finally, I move.
Diving to the right, I hit the ground, coming back up in a roll just in time to spot the creature who'd launched at me, slamming into the wall. It melts away similarly to the way it spawned into existence. A few quick seconds- and a few crazy combos from the other Asian guy- later, the rest of the creatures disperse into mist. He glances up at me, and for a second, I'm intimidated into stunned silence; the guy looks like he should be a model, not a firefighter. Or monster hunter. Whoever the fuck he and the other guy are.
"Thanks for the assist."
"No problem-" Shouts echo out from the back of the cafe, followed by those godforsaken creatures' screams.
"I'll circle around. Don't die." The man lifts his wrist up to his face as he goes, and now I see he's got on some strange watch-
Wait.
Wait.
Oh, there's no way in hell I'm losing. Or dying. (They both mean the same thing anyway...) Not if I've got a literal Power Ranger on my team. Newfound energy and courage replacing the fear that'd been seeping in, I vault over the counter and throw open the back door. The kitchen's clear, so I dash through it and into the alley behind the cafe-
The man I'd spoken to is losing. Badly.
"Chad, what's your status?" a voice questions from his watch, and hearing this snaps me back into focus.
"I'm a little busy!" Four creatures surround him, and as much as he fights, the only thing the poor guy, Chad, can do is defend himself. Directly in front of me are three customers, two men who crouch, protecting a toddler. Their son? "How's the sixth morpher looking?"
My mind kicks into gear, compartmentalizing that last thing he'd said for later. It's only been a few seconds since I left the cafe, and I've got to assume it's clear now that all the people inside have gotten out. They've got to go back in. I rush out into the alley, careful not to surprise the couple too much as I lay my hands onto their shoulders. The taller one all but punches me in the face, the other spinning and putting his kid behind him.
"The cafe is clear," I assure, glancing up at Chad. Blood coats his split lower lip, and no doubt there'll be bruises tomorrow. "The longer you stay here, the harder things will be here for him."
For a moment, both men glance at each other, then down to their kid. This whole time, he's been staring up at me, large eyes impossibly widened. "Are you a Power Ranger?"
Oh. That... is an interesting question. Kids really say the weirdest things. "Uh..."
"A little help?" Chad's voice is awkwardly high-pitched as he yells over to me, and I smile reassuringly at the boy.
"No. But that nice man over there is, and he needs my help." These words aren't just for the kid to hear, and to my utter relief, the two men catch onto my meaning. The shorter one gives me a nod of gratitude, but the taller lingers behind his family.
"Thank you, ma'am."
Power Ranger or not, those words feel... I don't know. For someone who wants to create for a living, you'd think I could find the words to describe the emotions swirling in my chest. But I can't.
Once I'm sure they're out of harm's way, I dive into the fight. Almost immediately, two of the creatures' attention is focused solely on me, the other two remaining fixated on killing Chad. Lovely.
At least those self-defense classes I dreaded as a kid will come in handy. One of the creatures leaps at me, and I duck, coming up just in time to bowl their legs out from under them. They hit the ground hard, but don't evaporate like the one in the cafe had.
The other lets out a disgusting screech, and it takes every ounce of discipline within me not to book it the other way. Instead of jumping, which it probably realized would've been a mistake, it runs at me. See, this isn't ideal: the one I'd knocked down isn't knocked out, which means I'm effectively sandwiched between these two monsters with no weapon.
So, I do the only thing that makes sense: tuck and roll to the side, and for a moment, I think I've dodged. That is, up until when one of the creatures grabs my ankle and hurls me to the ground. Pretty sure I'll have a nice tear in my favorite white jacket. Ugh.
No way these things will let me get up, which means my next best bet is to roll onto my back. The instant I do, the creatures leap at me, and I frown. Stupid indeed.
Planting my hands behind my head, I launch my legs up and into their chests, throwing them to the ground as I get up. Stupid, but stubborn; they still haven't gone back to wherever they generate from. And I'm still weaponless-
Chad stomps one right in the face, and uses a crowbar to jab the other's chest in.
He hurls the makeshift sword to the side, wipes the blood from his face, and squints at me. "Kind of weird request, but I'm gonna need you to come with me."
———
Any smarter person would do the exact opposite of what I decide, but, hey. This dude more or less saved my life, so I go with him out of the alley and onto the main street. Four others wait for us, including the guy with the cowboy hat. (So I wasn't hallucinating back there. Don't know if I wish I had been.) One of the new people, a gorgeous woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, gives me a nod, a smile, then extends her hand.
There, in her palm, is the same watch that Chad spoke into earlier.
Only difference is, this one glows with a steady purple light. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's pumping in time with my heartbeat-
Okay, something is really wrong. These people are Power Rangers, and they believe I'm one of them. Either that, or they're some weird doomsday cult who devised all of this to kidnap me. (I've heard enough weird shit from my friends back home to believe this wholeheartedly.)
"I believe this is yours," is all she says, which only makes the whole cult story ten times more believable, and I risk a glance over my shoulder. I'd left my purse, notebook, and most importantly, my phone, back in the cafe. As I do, the more wrong these people seem.
All I am is a college kid, wanting to take the world by storm with film. Not save it. There are other people for that, namely, the Power Rangers. This all feels like some grave mistake.
"It's alright," the lady reassures, "It's chosen you."
Great. Here comes the part where they tell me I need to get in a white van with them.
No creepy invite comes, though, which leaves me to my own thoughts. Regardless of whether this watch thing chose me, in no way, shape, or form did I choose it. But the soft purple flash of the device tells me I might not have a choice after all.
I don't know. I really don't know. Decision making this quickly has never been my strong suit, let alone life-changing ones. But nothing's gonna get better with me holding these people up like this. Maybe I can just take the watch, or the morpher, according to Chad, then toss it in the trash if I decide I want out after this. Yeah. That sounds like a plan.
Reaching out, I take the morpher, strap it onto my wrist just like the other people have theirs. The blonde girl's smile widens out of politeness and into something more genuine, and she nods to me. "I'm Dana Mitchell. Welcome to the team."
This is not how I envisioned making friends in college.
"Uh, thanks." I tighten the watch around my wrist. "Alyssa. Alyssa Sakamichi."
"Well, Alyssa," one of these firefighters, no Power Rangers, begins, and I take a moment to actually look at him.
He's fucking gorgeous. The man that'd spoken has dark blonde hair, nearly brown, with blue eyes that are so light, they're nearly gray. Not to mention, he's tall. That's more than I can say for most guys back home. "Sorry for the initiation." I have no idea what he's talking about until he turns to face our opponent.
If I'd thought the creatures from earlier were terrifying, the monster that stands before us now makes them puny. Its entire body flickers with dancing flame, what I think might be a face peering out from the orange-and-red depths.
What the fuck am I doing here.
"You want Mariner Bay?" The gorgeous man taunts, actually taunts, the fire monster, "Gotta get through us first."
Us. Great.
The hiss the monster lets out is the same one you might hear when putting out a fire. Fitting. (I need to focus on this, lest I run out of here screaming. But who could blame me if I did, really?) "Such strong words for ones that look so weak."
The man clenches his jaw, which only makes him more attractive. "Ready?"
No. Not in the slightest. I don't even know what I'm doing here, and I don't even know if I want to be here. But the other people raise their morphers up, and I follow suit like I've been doing it my whole life.
(That couple. The gratitude in their eyes. The fact they're getting to live another day with their little boy.)
((What choice do I have?))
"Lightspeed Rescue!"
———
The first time I ever won a fight, I was defending my little brother, Ash, from bullies. In my defense, I never actually hurt the kid, just dodged his punches, got behind him to grab his arm, and shoved him up against the fence. Then I grabbed Ash's arm, and we hauled ass to the bus stop.
I hadn't felt powerful then, though. Just guilty. But now? Brilliant sheer energy floods through my bloodstream, and when I look down at myself, I see purple sleeves covering my arms, along with a purple and white striped pattern on my chest.
Shit. Shit. I don't think I'll be able to just throw this away. Not after feeling like this.
"Whoa," Chad breathes, examining his own hands.
The other girl, a sporty-looking brunette, has a similar suit to mine, but yellow. "Fucking crazy," she mutters.
"I second that," the gorgeous guy, now in red, agrees. "Let's get to work."
Not going to lie, I still have no idea what I'm doing here, nor what I'm supposed to do next. Well, actually-
"Destroy them!" No one budges, turns to run. The power that's still thrumming through every cell in my body must also fuel the others. Or make us stupid and reckless. (Just reckless. Not stupid. I know what to do.)
I need to check my inventory, try my absolute best to arm myself with anything at my disposal. There's a holster at my side with some sort of laser gun, and I breathe a miniscule sigh of relief. Long range is kind of my thing, thanks to my monthly outings to the firing range with my older brother. (Leon won't believe this. I don't think I even believe it.) The small pistol fits perfectly into the palm of my hand, and I fire it off three times in perfect succession.
Each laser blast lands on its intended target: one on each of the creatures leaping at me. The fourth misses, but at this point, I'm moving on autopilot, dropping to my knees to evade the burst of flame that shoots my way.
Poor aim or not, what matters is the immediate danger around us is taken care of, each of the shadowy monsters having returned to where they came from. Now, it's just a matter of taking care of the big guy.
"Status?" The red Ranger- the literal fucking red Ranger- asks. He doesn't even sound winded.
The cowboy-hat wearing man, now in green, slams his elbow into the side of one of the last remaining creatures' heads. It disappears with a shriek. "Would be a lot better once we get rid of this ass." With that, he lifts his pistol up to the flame monster, and we each do the same.
"You wouldn't dare."
"You'd be surprised." With those three words from the Red Ranger, we fire our weapons in unison.
———
When we unmorph, for the most part, we're unscathed. Chad rubs at his jaw as he helps civilians, so I figure there'll be a bruise there later. Dana, the other girl and I have seen better hair days, and the cowboy-hat wearing guy looks utterly exhausted. The Red Ranger looks the worst: a bruise already blossoming on his cheek, blood coating the corner of his lips. (He put up a fight. Probably was watching our backs, too.)
"That was some impressive aim out there," Red remarks, and I shrug. Accepting praise really isn't my best skill.
Neither is impulsive decision making.
I reach for my wrist, the fingers of my other hand deftly loosening the morpher's strap-
"My name's Carter." This gives me pause, because he wouldn't have told me his name if he didn't think we'd meet again. If he didn't think I'd join them in this crazy superhero gallivant. I look up, only to see his gaze searching me, analyzing me. "We could really use you on the team, Alyssa."
Yikes. He, Carter, frowns, and I figure he misinterpreted my cringe. "Ally's got a better ring to it." The frown doesn't fade, but one corner of his lips turns upwards. (Good lord, he is beautiful.)
"That it does." The awkward silence that stretches on between us makes me want to turn around and go back to the cafe, to collect my things and not look back. "I... it's a long story, but Dana spent a long time trying to figure that thing out." He means the morpher I wear. It doesn't glow purple any more, but the fact remains that it did. We were all witnesses to it. "It would be a huge help if you'd just come back to headquarters with us."
Headquarters? So... what the fuck is this, if it's not some weird cult? (Who am I kidding. These people are Power Rangers. And for a moment, so was I.)
((Who's to say I can't be a normal college kid and a Power Ranger at once? Who's to say I can't help more people like that couple again? Who's to say movies are the only way I can reach affect the world around me? No one. That's who.))
"After that, you can walk away. We won't force you to stay."
Okay, so definitely not a cult.
And the least I can do is give these people some closure. "Alright, Carter. Lead the way."
———
I regret this. For someone who's already attended a red carpet for her series premiere, you'd think I wouldn't. But upon our arrival at the aforementioned headquarters, we're greeted by applause and cheers of joy. (According to Dana, each of these people helped get the morphers to the right people. All except me, the unknown factor.)
((Kelsey Winslow, the brunette, reassured me that it isn't necessarily a bad thing. That I can make something out of it, if I choose to. Joel Rawlings, who's apparently a local celebrity, nodded, then proceeded to ask about behind the scenes from the episode I'd written.))
After maneuvering our way through the crowded hallways, we finally make it into a wider space, where an older man greets us with a wide smile. "Dana, sweetheart."
(I miss my dad. I miss my mom. I miss Ash. I miss Leon.)
"We've located the owner of the sixth morpher, dad." Oh, sick. Who-
Me. She means me.
The blonde turns to me, rests a hand on my arm. I know it's supposed to be comforting, but all the same, I want to shrug it off. "Ally, this is my dad, Captain Mitchell. Dad, this is Alyssa Sakamichi. The sixth morpher glowed purple when she approached it." She didn't absolutely butcher my last name. Gotta give her some credit, at least. The man reaches out a hand, and I shake it firmly.
"I take it you're not from around here?"
"O-oh. I'm actually from Hawaii. Moved here for film school, and then, uh. This happened." Captain Mitchell chuckles.
"No one's going to force you to stay," he reassures in a way that almost brings tears to my eyes. (I wonder if my dad's golfing today.) "But all the same, that morpher chose you. We haven't been able to find a proper fit for it, like we have for these other Rangers. And that's special."
Dana nods. "We'll run some tests on it, but you're not obligated to be here for them..." her dad clears his throat, and she blushes. "Not for all of them, at least. It's up to you, Ally."
In that moment, it's like my future's stretching out in front of me. All my dreams that're yet to be fulfilled, echoing out into some unknown time that I might not even get to experience if I choose this path.
And yet, the eyes of that child as he looked up at me, asked if I was a Power Ranger. The gratitude in his father's voice.
And yet, and yet, and yet.
(Who am I if I can't choose for myself?)
"I need some time to think," I whisper. "Please."