Trust, dear fox who is bouncing so enticingly to perform her job as a distraction? No, you’ve got it a little wrong. Asking Yuki to trust your little daughters implies she has time to make a plan, time to hesitate. That’s not what’s happening here. The word you’re looking for is hope. The jingle and clap is the sound of hope for a girl who had no plan but dove straight into that room and whose heart was already flaring brightly as she cut at the shadows. 

Does the Khatun feel this? Sure, it’s not her literal heart or her special weak point or anything. But does she feel it, like a little mosquito bite as a girl slams her heart against the reflection of the Khatun’s true self? Even more importantly, can Yuki tell she feels it? Can Yuki get the satisfaction of knowing that somewhere out there, the woman who cast these shadows can feel the curses being leveled at her and the fury behind them? Because she’d like that a lot. 

There is no question of Yuki’s heart cutting through these shadows. Of her unlocking the chains and hefting Juniper’s limp form over her shoulders. The only question is where, exactly, Yuki’s mad heroics need a little fox magic to buoy them.