"Mum?"

The hospital door slid open gently, and in poured the party: the other person from Todoroki's phone faced Aimi, her white hair looked elegant, and soft. Aimi touched her own and felt the split ends with disgust. There wasn't any immediate recognition in Aimi's face, but there was a maternal aura in the room that drew her in. She said, "Hello, ma'am."

Todoroki sat across from his mother, guiding Aimi gently to the spot next to him. "This is Aimi. I hate to scare you, but she was dropped on our dorm doorstep by The League. Aimi, this is my mother, Rei."

"Hello," she said again.

"Wow!" Rei said, a smile on her face. "You used to be so rude!"

Aimi felt as if her heart stopped. "Uh – sorry, what?"

"I don't know what you've been up to, but when I last saw you, I think you were only so big–" she gestured a few feet off the ground, about half the size Aimi was now. "Perhaps you were about nine, but you used to use such foul language in front of anyone. It pained your mother, you know? And your sister – you'd be in fights all the time. Petty sisterly ones, though, I think. Clothes, or the like."

Aimi was quiet. "Is that true? I'm sorry if I ever bothered you."

Rei laughed lightly. "You were just a kid. I don't know how far you carried that trait with you, though."

Todoroki had been looking out the window, clouds rolling lazily by, but pulled his attention back into the room. "So I was right? You recognise her?"

"Yes! I used to be best friends with your mother, Mayu. I knew her in school and we kept in touch over the phone. It was a little harder to stay in contact after the move when I got married, but we were close friends. I met you a few times! You don't remember me? I'm sure I introduced the two of you at least once, you're only a few months apart, after all."

Aimi was speechless, but she could feel a memory beating down a locked door in her mind. "Did…" Aimi began, her voice almost watery in its insecurity, "did… you have other kids?"

"Yes. I think you might have met Fuyumi."

"Oh – oh, I –" The door was coming loose in her mind, the wood was spitting out splinters and coughing up hinges. Some smaller memories were slipping into the gaps; her favourite colour was baby blue, her birthday was July 27th, her address came back to her, and an image of her mother on the phone saying, "I'm sorry, love, it'll get better soon – don't do anything rash."

"Well," Aimi said, "on the bright side, there is some stuff I remember. Nothing big about the disappearance though." She added for the officer who was taking notes. "I could tell you about the… experiences with the "fake" Midoriya in a little more detail, I think, but nothing about the rest of that group."

Aimi turned back to Rei. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm sorry I was rude to you in the past."

"Oh no, not to me! You told Shoto here to – I think it was – 'fuck off and die, I don't want to be your friend', or something like that." And then she giggled. "You were both so small then. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't remember, but I heard from your mother over the phone that that kind of attitude stayed around well into school."

Aimi didn't know what to do with herself. She felt as if she was hearing about someone else's life entirely. "I'm so sorry," she said into her hands, hiding her face. "I'm so, so sorry."

Todoroki shrugged. "That's alright. I don't remember," he told her, but his eyes were still glued to the moving clouds.

The officers shut down their meeting a few minutes after that, telling Aimi that all the arrangements for the safehouse had been made. They bid goodbye to Rei and were quietly drive to what would soon become "home".

She was shipped off with a bag, a phone, and a small grocery shop. Todoroki was sliding the safehouse spare key onto his keyring and telling her his number.

When she had it right, Aimi said, "I'm sorry about what I said," with a deeply apologetic voice over guilt-ridden words. "I don't remember it, but I felt bad. If you told your mother you must have been upset. I'm sorry, Blue Knees."

"That's alright. I think I have a vague memory of it, which is why I recognised you on our doorstep, but I couldn't be sure. I'm glad my mother knew, though."

"Todoroki?"

"They're not – oh. Yes?"

"You… didn't always have that scar, did you?" Aimi asked it tentatively; she'd found somewhere in the back of her brain a memory of a boy who looked just like him – but without the scar. She assumed their mothers had met up for coffee, or something, because she didn't remember anything else of the Todoroki family after that.

"…No."

A policeman knocked on the window of a car, signalling for Aimi to get in. She hesitated, paddling her feet awkwardly.

"I'm really sorry about… whatever happened. I just realised, I remember you, too, except without…"

"Well, I'm glad some of your memories are coming back. And I'm glad that I was right when I found you, too. Don't feel guilty," he added quickly, noticing the falling look on her face. "I promise, it's fine, I'm used to it."

"Alright," Aimi sighed lightly. "I wish I could do more but–" the car horn beeped fervently. "But I have to go. I'll… see you soon?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Thank you. Bye, Todoroki."

"Bye. Safe trip."