Yes, perhaps that’s it. They’re only human, and they’re still men. There’s…only so far either of them can go. They’re better than most, but still. You’re right, they aren’t, and maybe I forgot that too. [Which naturally makes her feel quite the fool, especially considering the amount of trust she’d placed in Hiro. There were others here who knew more, to be sure, and none of what she’d said to him could be used against them really. Unless an enemy showed up, and she refused to consider that Hiro would willingly approach any of their old foes. That far she knew she could trust him.]

But I don’t think we’re being unkind. They’ve done us a disservice, as men often do. As people often do to both of us. It stings, but…[It was a reminder that despite everything the Senshi had in common with the people of this place, they were also something separate. She couldn’t bring herself to say that, but the thought hovers on the tip of her tongue. Instead she finishes lamely.]

shouganai. [It cannot be helped.]

[The tension in Ami wasn’t unnoticed, but it was a familiar feeling now, and she just held the other in that tender, sisterly embrace in silence for a long moment. Her fingers ran up and down Ami’s back, little patterns meant to give her something else to focus on, and she found herself smiling into that mop of blue hair.]

We will. We’re hardly burned out, I just...every time I think back to my arrival, I remember h ow alone I was. And I don’t want to go back out there and risk losing one of you, or risk taking myself away from one of you. I know it’s a cowardly thing, I know I should be better, but I don’t want to be alone again, even for a day. Because as we’re discovering, as nice as the people here may be, they are not our people. And maybe that’s what stings most of all. [A sigh.]

I’m hoping that the next cycle has another of us, that’s fit the pattern so far. But every time new people arrive, I look for them, and I pray.