AN: Self/reader insert.3rd Person omniscient is the perspective I'm most comfortable with. I know there are some that grumble but I'm self-indulgent. ^^; I'm not half bad at this whole writing thing (most of the time) so I figured I'd give this a go. I'm also MM obsessed Jumin-trash, so can you really blame me? ;)

Mystic Messenger and its associated characters are the property of Cheritz. I do not own anything save for my flight of fancy that might be loosely labeled as a "plot"

-The First Day-

She woke up feeling directionless. There was a vacant feeling in her mind that had at some point drifted and surreptitiously slipped its way throughout her body, contaminating her to the marrow of her bones. Where was she?

The fogginess didn't diminish. It lingered a bit too much to be dismissed as simply stirring from sleep. Her suspicions were confirmed when she shifted and the entire room followed. It left her grasping her sheets in terror. Vertigo had her breathless. Where was she? She didn't dare move. Breathing deeply and slowly she turned her head. White walls, no decorations in sight. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. It was so non-descript, it could have belonged to anyone. She spotted her purse on the bedside table. Was that her phone? She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. The gesture did nothing to alleviate the fogginess or pressure she felt in her head. She couldn't help but feel like she was forgetting something important.

That thought was swept away by a wave of intense and sudden nausea. It had her squeezing her eyes shut and groaning.

"What happened to me?" She croaked, her voice showing signs of extended disuse. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. Did she make it to happy hour? This was one hell of a hangover, if so. But she'd never been much of a drinker, always keeping careful control of her intake. She was a bit of a brat in that regard, preferring to avoid indulging in things that resulted in (or her mind, anyway) disproportionate levels of discomfort. Was she drugged? She couldn't remember the night previous and honestly felt as though she was in alien surroundings. Her phone and purse seemed familiar. She was far too young to have any signs of dementia or cognitive decline, this she knew. It was odd how these bits of unsubstantiated information and instinct were enough to put her at ease. The brain was really an amazing organ. She heaved a sigh. She decided it was time to sit up and see if she could tolerate a shower. That might be a good step to take. Something about the thought of the hot water set her at ease. The first thing she had to conquer was not falling over. This pounding in her head had yet to abate so she wasn't feeling at all optimistic.

Fuck. She thought as she slowly sat up. She braced herself, feeling a touch wobbly. She swallowed against a resurgence of nausea. Mission shower time was off to an okay start. She stood up and made her way to the doorway of her room. Why didn't it feel like this was home? Why was her mind stuck on that thought? She spotted a towel hanging from a hook on the back of her bedroom door and reached for it. Surely, this level of familiarity only came from being at a place that was home for her? She made her way to the bathroom, determined to get clean and clear her head.

God, if you're out there, please help me remember. I feel so lost right now. She despaired as the water washed over her. At least this way she didn't have to deal with tears stinging her cheeks. She gave into her feelings and sobbed. This would all pass. This state of confusion had to be temporary.

After a heartening crying fit in the shower, she felt depleted and it did mitigate the pressure of her emotions but she had a feeling it wasn't as helpful as having a clue would have been. She dressed, finding appropriately sized underthings in the dresser. She wore an oversized sweater and leggings. The room was a touch chilly, she thought as she plaited her hair. More problematic than the weather was the fact that the room and apartment bore no distinctive signs of who she was as a person. It was like a placeholder. She regarded herself in the mirror. A strange idea came to mind.

"This is not how my face is supposed to look." Her features were off in some way. Her eyes, she knew to be correct, a mix of green blue and amber. Her headache returned with a vengeance.

It was just then that her phone began to buzz.

Unknown: …Hello..?

She grimaced as she looked at the reply box.

Moi: ?

Unknown: Can you see this?

Moi: Who are you?

Unknown: I'm sure you're surprised. It's not every day you get a text from a stranger.

Unknown: I'm a bit flustered myself. I found a smartphone at the subway station, but all it had was this messenger app.

Unknown: I want to find the owner but I don't see any contact info or call records.

Unknown: I've been sending messages with this app but no reply…

Unknown: All I see is an address and some important-looking numbers saved in notes.

Unknown: I'd like to go there myself but I'm currently abroad. . .

Moi: First. . .who are you?

Her heart was racing. Was this a clue? Was she going to be able to sort out the clusterfuck that her life was? The prospect was as exciting as it was nerve wracking.

Unknown: Me? Oh sorry. I didn't even introduce myself. I'm just…a student studying abroad. I'm Korean.

Unknown: I could tell you my name but it doesn't really matter.

Unknown: You won't find me on any search engines ^^;

He was certainly fast at texting. She was so nervous.

Unknown: But, anyways. . . Can you help me find the owner of this phone? I know you're surprised to have someone suddenly pop up and ask you a favor like this. But still… I'd appreciate it if you could help.

Moi: Why should I help you?

Unknown: Since you're the only clue I have. I've been trying to find the owner with this phone but I didn't find any clues until now. I would really like to find the owner.

Unknown: Then God will be happy.

Unknown: Oh! Sorry I didn't mention it before. I'm religious.

Unknown: Never mind what I just said. I'm sorry if I weirded you out. Can you please help me? I'll make it up to you if I get to go back to Korea.

Unknown: It's a really safe place. If you feel unsafe you can turn around. I know the area. It's developed.

Unknown: Please?

She swallowed her misgivings. What did she have to lose at this point? She didn't know who she was.

Moi: Fine . . . I'm leaving right away if it feels sketchy.

Unknown: You trust me. . .

Unknown: Thank you.

Unknown: Just a sec I'll send you the address.

Unknown: Found it

Unknown: Address [Click link]

Her finger hovered in uncertainty over the address that would undoubtedly open up her GPS and lead her to wherever this stranger was sending her. Although could he really be considered strange when she was the one accepting this quest? The destination was close. She quickly got her bearings and packed some things. A jacket, a messenger bag with some essentials, and her purse. She left, praying quietly as she locked the door to her apartment. Seized with panic she took a picture of her apartment and the building. She also used her GPS to bookmark this location as home. She hoped she'd have some clues to go off of later on but it wouldn't be smart if she didn't know how to get back. Everything was so fuzzy, after all.

She had her misgivings but he wasn't wrong. There was nothing sketchy about the place. Well illuminated and developed. It was near downtown which meant easy access to public transit. Did she have any other money than what was in her wallet? She shook her head to dispel lingering feelings of dizziness. She input the password.

Unknown: Why don't you go inside?

Well, here was to going with the flow. She stepped inside the small apartment and as the door clicked shut she couldn't help but think that she'd made a pretty big decision. No going back now.

She wasn't wrong. If she had an inkling of what awaited her, she would have certainly tossed her phone into the nearest trashcan and tried a different way to find herself and her memories.