// Backdated liek woah to when Ari first joined the BMC //



“How was your week?”

The routine question made Ari smile. Like clockwork, their conversations always began this way. That was fine - routine could be nice. Reassuring, even, in a setting like this. They didn’t bother with meaningless pleasantries. As the man often pointed out, they weren’t friends. But for all that this wasn’t a social gathering, there was always an interest behind the questions that was so often missing from ‘polite and pleasant’ conversation.

She was seeing a therapist for memory issues. It was rather ironic that the cold, businesslike man made her feel more comfortable than most interactions with her peers, be they schoolmates or socialites. True that it was his job to do so. But Ari had met her fair share of disinterested, ‘in-the-door, out-the-door, collect-the-paycheck’ therapists. The first exception had eventually become her mother. At that point, there was a clear conflict of interest and Diana Knight had recommended the person she considered to be the best of her peers, or at least the best for Ari. Ari hadn’t agreed - she’d walked out of her first session with Dr Riven Vagnier barely fifteen minutes in. The barely-thirty man gave off as much warmth as his colouring - platinum blond hair, ice blue eyes, and the pale skin that came from spending all his time in his office. His professional style was brusque, to the point, and he had never heard of sugar-coating the truth. As different from Diana’s style as night from day, Ari had sworn (and cussed) up and down that she was never setting foot in that office again.

How wrong she’d been. Nearly three years on and Ari couldn’t thank her mother enough for convincing her to give Dr Vagnier another chance. The lack of coddling was just what she needed, and his blunt opinions meant she’d never had to worry he was feeding her bullshit. Not only had he coached her through the very trying period of adjusting from a doctor-patient relationship with both her adoptive parents to a proper family relationship, and all the blurred boundaries that resulted, but he’d also proved a wonderful sounding board for her transition into a dedicated senshi - in generic, non-senshi and non-terrorist terms, of course. Through it all, the doctor was far more interested in pushing Ari to face her fears and true thoughts than he was in learning those secrets himself. There were times he’d pause in his questioning with an almost-unnoticable smug upturn at the corner of his mouth, and Ari would just know she was making that face again - the ‘ohhh!’ lightbulb-switching-on face that meant she’d finally figured out the issue at hand.

“It was… a pretty good week,” Ari admitted. A smile formed and she drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them close.

A long time ago, Dr Vagnier had suggested that she dress for their sessions in whatever made her feel the most comfortable. Since then, all her sessions had been in jeans or pants of some kind - even if she had an after-school session, she changed on the way, only too happy to be out of the ‘uniform of her socialite oppressors’. The confidence she gained from being able to move or lounge as she liked without the worry of flashing or appearing unladylike was invaluable. It had certainly cemented her opinion of the good doctor as “actually, kind of awesome, for a shrink”.

The shrink in question waited patiently for Ari to continue.

“I think I’m really starting to make friends,” she said. Her happiness was a fire, lighting her from within. “About time, I know, right? But, um, I guess I never really felt like I fit in anywhere. I had to pretend, or at least hide bits of me, in order to be accepted.”

“And now you don’t need to?”

Still hugging her legs, Ari rocked gently from side to side. She hummed, but didn’t need to consider it for long. “I don’t think I do. They like who I am, and value the things I can do - like my fighting!”

Dr Vagnier was, of course, well aware of Ari’s hobby and the fact that she felt the need to keep it hidden from her parents and their social peers (which included her schoolmates).

“They value your fighting talents?”

Ari’s head shot up at the innocent-sounding question. She didn’t believe for a second that it was an innocuous as the man made it sound. “It’s not a, a gang,” she insisted. It wasn’t, really. They were saving the world! Well, the city first, then the world. “It’s… they’re just cool with the fact that I’m a huge tomboy half the time. That I like to punch things in gyms and get sweaty instead of taking high tea or some s**t. And I was teaching some self-defense stuff to one of the smaller girls, nothing dangerous, just so that anyone who picks on her cause she looks easy will be in for a surprise.”

Unfortunately for Ari, her therapist had one hell of a poker face, so she had no clue if she’d reassured him that she wasn’t a criminal in the making, or was just digging herself deeper. Maybe she needed to talk less about the fighting and more about the people?

“So there’s this girl, Fallon, right? I think she’s younger than me, but you’d never guess it to look at her. She looks more like a ‘proper young lady’ than I do,” Ari gave a small laugh. “But she’s so confident and poised and… so certain about what she wants to do with her life. The sort who’ll really change the world, you know? And then there’s my fellow redhead. Who’s also a fighter - a really good one! That was totally cool to find out, and…”

The rest of the hour flew by. The BMC wasn’t the sole topic, but it was fair to say that it was Ari’s inclusion in the group that had made her week so memorable. They touched on school, and Ari’s lack of progress on that social front. They were finishing up the session with a quick check on Ari’s home life, when something strange occurred.

“Ariana,” Dr Vagnier said. He was the only person that Ari didn’t hate to hear her full name from. This was mostly because the doctor simply refused to shorten her name (“we are not friends, Ariana, and it would serve you best to remember that - a psychiatrist cannot assist you properly if they are worried about being liked”) so she became used to hearing it from him. “I just want to reassure you: our sessions are completely confidential. I would never reveal anything we’ve discussed here to anyone, not without your express written consent.”

Thrown for a loop, Ari stared at Dr Vagnier without comprehending. “…Okay.”

Of course he wouldn’t. That was the whole point of a therapist, right? The only reason she’d been comfortable telling one anything at all to begin with. This office was her safe place, and Dr Vagnier probably the safest person she knew. (It was a testament to how ‘safe’ he was that Ari had never spent more than an initial few minutes considering him attractive. After that period of time, it was as though he was simply a non-sexual object, his looks no longer even registering.) If there’d been any doubt about her file being open to others, or her talks the subject of discussion between other employees of the business, Ari wouldn’t have shown for the first disastrous session, let alone the second and beyond.

Dr Riven Vagnier looked uncomfortable before closing his folder. “I just wanted to reassure you.” He rose swiftly from his seat, crossing the floor and holding the door open for Ari to leave.

Ari was distinctly not reassured. She couldn’t think of a reason why he would need to remind her of what was a matter of law. Her memory wasn’t that bad. Shooting the man a confused look, she grabbed her bag and darted out the door with a quiet, “See you next week.”

Doubt and worry churned in Ari’s stomach as she went. As she approached the reception desk, her footsteps slowed. The young blonde lady looked up and shot Ari a smile. It was surprisingly not fake - Ari was in every week, after all, and they often passed small talk while waiting for Ari’s hour to begin. Ari came to a halt in front of the desk. “Hi, Becky. Um, this might sound strange, but Doctor Vagnier was just trying to ‘reassure’ me that our sessions are confidential, and I saw wondering if you…?”

“Oh, no worries!” Becky interrupted. This time her smile had a hint of the ‘poor dear’ to it that too many people wore the moment they realised they were talking to someone ‘unbalanced’. Becky had never given Ari that kind of look before, which made Ari frown even as the receptionist continued. “Totally covered on this end, too. If she asks again, I’m not to tell her anything - as if I would,” she sniffed, “and to warn her not to bother Doctor Riven again.”

“If she asks…?” Ari repeated, more confused than ever.

“Yup. All your files and sessions are confidential, even if she is your mom. So no matter how much she bugs Doctor Riven or the staff, she’s not hearing anything from us, okay?”

Ari exhaled sharply. It felt like Gunn had just punched her in the stomach. White-knuckled fingers clutched the shoulder strap of a bag like a lifeline. Ari opened her mouth to speak several times before managing to gasp out, “My mother what!?”