She sees him eyeing her, though whenever she looks back, he turns away, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the red on his cheeks. First, it pisses her off. Then she remembers he's here too, dressed in the same baby blue uniform that's meant to have some sort of calming effect, or whatever bullshit they spit out on her when she arrived. He's got no need to judge her, she thinks, and she's probably not the craziest of the people here. In fact, she's certain she's not crazy at all. Just confused. Enough so that when he finally asks her name, she isn't sure how to answer.

"Mai," she finally sighs out. "I think. I mean, it's the name on the license they found with me, and I guess that girl is me, but I don't remember. That's why I'm here."

He nods, taking it in and making whatever assessment before replying, noting the sling on her arm but not asking. "I'm Zuko, I know that. They sent me here after I tried killing myself." His voice is dry, detached, and oddly familiar for her. The hollowness is something she thinks she knows, though she's near certain she doesn't know him.

The rest of their meal is silent, at some point he wanders off to a session of therapy until it's Mai's turn.

She sits in silence, lips pursed together as the therapist tries to trigger a memory in her. Pictures of the accident scene, the clothes she was wearing, the items in her purse– not that she can have those outside the room.

But there's nothing. She knows what she's been told. Her car crashed, someone found her wandering the woods close by, her wallet claims she's Mai Omura, 20 years old. Her phone was lost, so there's no one to call, but no one seems to be looking for her. The address led them to an apartment, the landlord could only confirm a name, but he offered no knowledge of her family. So she ended up here until they can help get her back to normal.

She doesn't sleep well, so they give her something for the nightmares. The nurse, Yuki, is kind and caring, and despite her best efforts, Mai can't find it in herself to be mean to her. So she swallows the pill and slips into the rec room, sitting near the window and thinking until the boy from earlier interrupts her.

This, at least, she can remember–, "Zuko," she greets before turning her gaze back to the window. She feels him sit next to her, but has to bite back a comment about personal space.

He's silent, she waits until he finally speaks.

"I was going to ask you about yourself, but you said you don't remember. So I didn't know what to say."

It's enough to catch her attention– she turns, shrugging her shoulders. "They try to make me talk about myself enough, they think it'll make me remember. I rather talk about something else."

"Yeah? Like?"

"I don't know, how stupid this place is."

He snorts, she smiles. "It's pretty dumb, yeah, but there's ice cream on Friday nights, and last month they took us to the zoo. I guess they think we're children."

"I feel like Yuki's my babysitter. She helps me get dressed half the time," Mai rolls her eyes, gesturing to her broken arm.

"Yeah– what happened?"

"I got into an accident. It's why I forgot. I don't know why that makes me crazy, though, but I guess I had nowhere else to go."

He frowns, stopping himself from asking about her family and why they aren't there. "Hm…," he pauses, "We can do something if you want. Walk, watch a movie, I don't know."

Her shoulders shrug, but she stands, so he takes her answer as being a walk and leads her out of the room, through the many doors that don't lock and the bathrooms that remind him of high school. He points out the nurses' station, his own room, and the library. They talk, not about her or him, but about the strange colors on the wall and the lingering smell of antiseptic. About which nurses are kind and which aren't, about what they want to do when they get out.

"I don't know. I guess I was in college or something. I know I like reading, maybe I was an English major," she thinks aloud.

"PoliSci…my dad thought it was a good idea. I stopped going though, maybe I'll go back if I get out."

"Doing the same thing, or do you want to do something else?"

"I guess you're not the only one who doesn't really know yourself," he shrugs, giving her a small smile like it's some kind of sick joke. She doesn't laugh, and neither does he. They're silent the rest of the night until the dimming lights signal them to bed.

Mai doesn't sleep that night, instead she's plagued with nightmares of the accident. She supposes the must be real, but figures it's possible her mind created a scenario based of what she's been told too.

The trees rush at her quickly, too fast. A curve comes but the wheel doesn't turn. She knows, instinctively, she's going to hit them, she's going to fall into the ditch, she's going to die, but the wheel doesn't turn. It's a blur as she collides, a blackout for a while, and then she's outside the car, her body in pain next to the carnage. But she's alive.

And then, she's awake.

After that, she remembers. Flashing lights and a man insisting she needed medical attention. Her name being asked over and over, scans of her brain and whispering about damage and theories it wouldn't be permanent. She remembers the doctors asking questions, of anything she remembered and how she was feeling. More whispers, these she couldn't understand before they told her she was going to the psych ward. And without another place to go, she didn't resist. Mai knew she could've gone back to the apartment she's meant to live in, but she decided to listen to the doctors.

Something wasn't right—something kept her apprehensive of leaving, despite her disdain for this place.

So she answers what she can at therapy that day, like every day, but moves nowhere useful.

Yuki's waiting for her outside the door afterwards, a bright smile plastered on her face. "How'd it go, Mai? Do you feel better?"

A simple shrug is her only reply. The nurse's smile doesn't fade as she passes over the pill and the cup of water, but this time, Mai turns it down. "Doesn't do anything, I still have nightmares."

Now, she frowns. "It's not going to work right away. Are you telling your doctor about your nightmares?"

Again, a shrug.

"Come on, Mai, that's the only way you'll get any better, you know."

"I did tell him, okay? I don't want the pill. Everything's confusing enough without something in my system."

"It's just meant to calm you, we thought it would help. Can't you give it a little more time?"

Mai starts to object again, but somehow she knows Yuki means it. She's trying to help, she cares. And that—like most things, is completely unfamiliar to Mai. So she takes it, and she lets Yuki help her with the bath so that her cast stays dry.

Zuko's in the rec room already when she arrives, watching the news. Maybe it makes him feel connected to the real word, she thinks, but it's always been depressing—somehow she remembers that. Almost like instinct, rather than a memory of something she saw on it before. There's lots of things like that. She knew math, how to speak, even a few thinks she liked and didn't. It was the memories that she couldn't grasp onto.

She notices it again, his cheeks going red when she enters. This time it makes her smile. Maybe he is kind of handsome, even though his face is scarred and his hair is so long it flops into his eyes sometimes. Before she knows it, there's a tinge of red on her own cheeks. Certainly, she didn't have a boyfriend. He would've found her by now.

He looks over, making her look away. "We can walk again if you want," he whispers into her ear. She nods, standing closer to him this time.