Elsewhere in Destiny City, another empty house stood. Like before, Ari broke the silence and, like before, received no signs of life. Technically it was Birhan Isat who broke the silence - shattering a window upstairs after choosing the one least likely to be noticed. The senshi slipped silently inside, careful to avoid cutting herself. Once out of danger, she de-transformed, no longer a super-strong warrior of justice, just a bedraggled teen looking lost and clutching a bag like it contained her entire life.

Ari didn’t have many friends. The few she did were senshi, and she didn’t feel she could intrude on the civilians lives of the few she knew the true identities of. There was truly no one she could go to for help. Darkness had fallen by the time Ari had run away from home, further limiting the number of places she could go. In the end, she’d chosen a place she knew was empty and available. Hopefully Scylla would forgive her for the broken window and not begrudge Ari the accommodation.

It took her a few tries to locate the stairs to the lower level. Once there, Ari made her way to the large hall where Scylla had allowed the Blood Moon Court to train. There was something wrong that the empty, echoing space felt more welcoming than Ari’s own home right now. Perhaps it helped that she could almost see Ares and Nemesis going at it in the boxing ring, hear the voices of the people who’d become her new family calling out around her. All the workout equipment was still present, which made the corners of Ari’s mouth quirk up. Perhaps later she’d feel up to wailing on one of the punching bags.

Even later, perhaps she’d move back upstairs to find a likely bed or couch to sleep on. For now, though, Ari felt far more comfortable down here. She crossed the floor and sank down onto a padded mat, her back to the wall of mirrors. The place was slightly eerie in the dark, but Ari didn’t bother to turn on a light. Even though the house was far enough away from the road that lit windows wouldn’t be seen, Ari didn’t feel the need to risk it. There were enough high windows to let in the moonlight and her eyes had quickly adjusted.

As settled as she could be, Ari unzipped her back to check what she’d managed to bring with her. A bag or two of chips, chocolate bars, one bottle of soda… beneath that, two changes of shirts, one jacket, and the school uniform she’d worn earlier that day. Ari was thankful for her habit of changing out of the uniform and into jeans and a soft t-shirt for her therapy session. She didn’t want to be running around in her school uniform - Birhan Isat could get away with unseasonal clothing thanks to a senshi metabolism, but Ari had no such defense against the cold.

The clothing would be fine, Ari decided. The bigger problem would be food. She’d inspected the kitchen last time the BMC was here and they were unstocked. The water was running, so at least Ari wasn’t running the risk of dehydration.

What brought the question of just how long Ari was planning to stay away for? The thought of returning home made her physically sick to the stomach. This might not be an impulsive one-night flight and return the next day, Ari realised. The amount of anger and hurt Diana’s actions had caused wouldn’t disappear quickly. Ari sighed, wishing her next therapy session wasn’t a full week away - she could really use someone to talk this over with right now. Nothing made sense, and Dr Vagnier was so good as helping Ari un-muddle her thoughts.

A musical trill sounded within Ari’s bag. She ignored the mobile phone like she had the previous times it had rung during her flight. There was only two people it would be, and Ari didn’t want to talk to either of them. She couldn’t handle more excuses right now, or a defense of the person using the excuses. “It’s not like I want them to suffer,” Ari told the bag. “But I have to put me first, my feelings over theirs. That’s only human, right?”

The bag wisely kept silent.

When the trill began again after only a moment’s rest, Ari huffed and dug around for the phone. She immediately hit the button to deny the call. A pop-up window advised her of the seven new voicemail messages she had waiting. Ari deleted it. Then the voicemails were deleted, unread. Flicking the phone to silent, she tossed it back into the bag.

Ari sighed. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she folded her arms across them and rested her head on the uncomfortable pillow. Soon, she’d go in search of somewhere softer to slept. Right now, she was too wrapped up in her misery to unwind.

Alone, Ari buried her head in her arms and wept.