"Who am I?"

"Sorry?" He asked without realising, confusion and suspicion making way through his tone.

He saw her look around, eyes wavering in uncertainty and then they met his. He saw questions, hundreds of conspicuous questions scribbled on her face, eyes drowned in dubiety, lips quivering due to hesitation but out of all these what stood out was fear. Fear of something which he could decipher as distrust.

And then she was staring at him, her eyes finding for any source of certainty to assure herself that he, indeed, was the one she had been looking for. That he would save her.

He could almost read her thoughts, how could she trust him when she didn't have any ground to trust herself? She had been saying nothing but that there was someone she had to save, that she was in danger.

What if she was the danger?

Her eyes wavered, moisture piled behind her waterline once again as she gasped for the air she seemed to have lost. "I..." Her words trailed.

"It's fine." He comforted, calming his expressions. He saw her look around once again as she tried to hide her tears. There was this moment where he felt like he needed to be gentle and he resolved to be that for the day.

And then it was quiet.

She looked exhausted. He noticed that the heel of her right stiletto was coming off, as if she'd been running for hours. His eyes landed on her bloodstained cream shirt again, urging him to confront her of whatever she was trying to hide, but he felt a pull that made him rethink his abrupt notion.

He had stared at her unintentionally for too long that he didn't even see her wipe away her uncooperative tears or straighten her bloody clothes. She squirmed in her seat, her fingers pushing back her unruly hair gawkily. He instantly looked away, muttering a small apology to which she just nodded.

"So you don't know who you are." He stated, as a matter of fact, fixing his sleeves before leaning forward to rest his hands on the vast wooden table.

She nodded.

"Do you, perhaps, remember anything at all?" He questioned, mustering a little hope that he might find something that could help them.

She shook her head. "I just need to save her, and..." She repeated what she had been telling him for the longest and after a pause she completed, "myself."

He nodded, pushing his back against the chair and turned towards his side. "So you don't know who wants to kill you, you don't know the person you want to save and to top it all you don't even know yourself. Apologies if I might have or may say something rude. But what you know is that there is this danger, hovering over you and someone else you know. And care about a lot." He let out, fingers dancing on top of the small figurine kept next to him on the table.

She nodded rapidly.

"How is that enough for me to help you?" She glanced at him, a different kind of fear stored in her eyes, of impotence. He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose and leaned towards her sympathetically, "I mean, you aren't aware of your situation yourself and instead of going to the police or some private detective you came to me. Why, may I know?"

"Because... Going to the police like this," She gestured to her dress, "wouldn't be the best idea and I won't have anything to prove my innocence. And I just don't want to involve police in this."

He nodded.

"And private detective... I don't know, I didn't think much. There was a phone book in the room and I looked up lawyers."

"Why did you pick me?"

"The name sounded strong." She managed to smile a little, it was weak, but it was there."I thought of calling but then I couldn't find my phone. I tried remembering where it was, but nothing. It was all blank."

"Why didn't you go to the hospital? You're wounded." He stated, eyes skimming over the visible spots of dried blood emerging from behind her ear to the middle of her neck.

"I thought but... I just didn't."

"Do you remember what happened today? Ever since you've woken up?"

She nodded softly, straightening her posture. "I remember my head throbbing like crazy when I woke up, as if someone had struck it hard, very hard. I was in a room - a little hotel down three streets." Letting her head rest against the chair, she stared up and closed her eyes after a while, trying to bring things to focus. "I was groggy, disoriented and my heart thumped, as if I'd wakened from a nightmare. I still had my heels on and I remember wondering why I'd gone to bed with them on. The room was dimly lit, the windows closed. I could barely center myself so I went to the bathroom and splashed my face with water."

She opened her eyes, looked into his. "I saw myself in the mirror. I knew it was me, I recognised my face... and I never thought about who I was. Like an incessantly ringing phone, I had this ringing in my head that said I was in danger. When I closed my eyes, something flashed before my mind and I was afraid... Of being killed. The next thought confused me but also felt so genuine." Her brows met, eyes focused on the wooden piece in front of her and mouth agape.

"That is?"

" 'I have to save her.' That is all I could think of, and after that I waited for a while, took a cab and came here."

"You didn't say anything about breakfast." He muttered softly, amusement bewitching his mind but he pushed it away. He opened a drawer and pulled out a candy bar. She studied it with what appeared to be attentiveness and confusion while he watched her reaction intently. "It'll hold you until we can do better."

"Thank you." With clean, calculated movements, she unwrapped the bar and with the elegance of a princess, took a bite from it. The rumbling from her stomach surprising her and amazing him.

"Anything else?" He asked after a pause.

She cleared her throat. "I just had my purse. No keys, no business cards, nothing at all. There is my wallet and a notebook, that's it." She said, opening her purse and dropping her items on the table in front of him.

"May I?" He asked, pointing towards the notebook and she nodded.

Gangnam, Monday at 7

He read it and passed it over to her.

"I don't know what that means."

"Alright. Write it down," He handed her a pen.

"What?"

"Write down what it says in there."

"Oh." She complied, gnawing her lip as she copied the text and he observed her.

He took the book back and although he didn't have to look at it twice, he checked it once again for her sake. "You've written it, must be your schedule for the forthcoming Monday since you haven't cancelled it like the other schedules."

Clearing her throat she said, "People may be worried about me. Family, friends, anyone who is a well wisher." Her eyes deepened. "And someone may be looking for me who isn't a friend or family. Who isn't concerned with my well-being. Who, I believe, wants to kill me. I don't know why I feel that way, Mr. Jeon. But I'm afraid. And I don't even remember anything."

For a moment he believed it was her big, moist, troubled eyes, or maybe the restlessness of her hands that lured him to provide her support. Either way, he couldn't resist flaunting, only a bit.

"I can tell you a few things already." He said and she straightened, listening better. "You are an empathetic and altruistic woman, smart as well I'd say. Early-to-mid twenties. You dress elegantly and enjoy the taste of light colors and from my assumption you make a good amount of money to be dressed in such luxurious brands. You might be suffering from anxiety. You are definitely not lying because no one would be dumb enough, no offense, to open up just like that but that also shows you easily trust people. You're well composed but soft at the same time. And... You like chocolate."

She felt her stomach almost rumble once again but she shifted in her seat while blinking rapidly to make it oblivious. "Why do you assume all that?"

"You were more worried about that woman than yourself. Although rushed, you rationalized how you would like to solve your problem and that's only how you came here. You've a simple style - quality over flair. You aren't wearing much accessories, but it seems like you know enough about jewelry, since they're unique, interesting but not ornate. Simple, as I said. Anxious because look at your nails, the paint has been scrapped and your fingers tremble a lot. You are not lying. There is a way to everything you do be that unwrapping a candy bar, eating or just sitting and you absolutely have a soft heart to have a breakdown more than twice. But you haven't decided how much you should trust me, yet." His lips lifted up in a small smirk that spread wider in a smile once she looked away.

"How much should I trust you?" She looked at him again.

"You came to me."

She acknowledged that, rose up and walked to the open window in the room. Drizzling drops falling on the plants sitting outside his window, but her focus remained on one particularly. "I don't recognize this place, or the people I see." She murmured. "But I feel I should. I know I'm in Seoul, I saw that on the buses. I know Seoul is the capital of this country. I know the other historical monuments... There are things that just pop up in my mind immediately once you mention them."

Though it was wet from the rain, she rested her hands on the sill and leaned on it. "I feel like I was dropped out of nowhere. With the capabilities of reading and writing and walking and talking. I recognise what these inanimate objects are around me, I recognise colors and that means I didn't drop out of nowhere. But I don't recognise myself, then how do these things even matter? I don't know what or who I'm afraid of, I don't know who I want to save. I can't remember anything. Maybe I am the danger, I may have done something."

"And that is why I need you to help me. Save me from whatever I am in or I have done."

She turned back with a tight and set face, eyes stern but lost. "I don't know if I'm going to like who you find out- if you help me, that is- when you find me, Mr. Jeon, but I need to know." She walked back to his desk, took her previous seat and stared straight in his eyes.

"I won't take you as the danger." He said after a few seconds of contemplation. "I'd rather say you are more oriented with pens than any weapons." He pointed at her fingers unconsciously flipping the pen he had positioned on the table a few minutes ago.

"But that-" She interrupted.

He opened a different drawer this time, rummaged through the things in it and pulled out a gun. He offered it to her and she hesitated.

"Take it."

She took a troubled breath, her eyes widened and her heart raced a mile per minute.

"Go ahead," He gestured with his eyes before smiling a little.

"See? That's what I mean." He asserted, a knowing look on his face. "You are afraid of it, but a pen came as natural to you. You weren't afraid of it, when it can also have consequences."

His words evidently caused some relief to her. But he knew that it didn't chase away the clouds.

"Maybe you're right. But it doesn't mean I couldn't have done something bad."

"It doesn't."

Silence fell upon once again. The pitter-patter of the raindrops seemed to be her only attraction and all he could do was stare at her.

Do I really want to help her? He wondered. His day had started just as usual as he entered the building three hours ago and was learning about the recent occurring crimes in the city from his cop friend until she entered the cabin. The sound of her footsteps were like the calls of the mystery and the look in her eyes like the sorcery that had to be dealt with. Her story reminded him of a fantasy but the innocence she had naively given off told him that it was the truth.

The moment he observed her, he knew she was a maze. A maze too exciting, a maze too enchanting. All the tangles she was tied in were his to untangle. All the scenarios of her mystery were his to solve. She was a mystery he wanted to solve.

"I think I have sufficient amount to pay you advance. And I need you to help me. Please." Her hushed voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He looked to his side for a brief moment and then turned back to her and nodded. "You have my help."

"Thankyou." She smiled, bowing through her neck a little before her expression changed again. "There's something else that I want you to promise."

She took a deep breath. "I would want you to investigate for me and I know I'll be ending up in a court... you'll fight for me. I don't know if asking for this is ethical but if during the course of it, you find that I'm involved in any sort of crime, I need your word that you'll find out everything you can, all the circumstances, all the facts, before you turn me over to police."

"You assume I'll turn you in." He angled his head, eyes curious.

"If I've broken the law, then as a lawyer you are expected to do that. But before that you would provide me with everything you can. I need to understand all the things and you'll help me. Do I have your word on that?"

"You do." He took the hand she held out. Soft and delicate but steady as a rock. And she, he thought, was an interesting combination of frail and feral.

Beauty, indeed she was and brains had been proven enough for her to be able to work so meticulously in chaos. Her determination showed in every word she said while sealing their deal and her valiance had not gone unnoticed in the moment she admitted that she was ready to learn herself - good or bad. But she was generous and held the empathetic heart of woman that was strong enough to withstand the hardest struggles. He was the one who could help her simplify her path through these struggles and he was equipped to do so.

He felt attracted to her. The person she was. The kind of woman he might have never met. She wasn't any less or more than the other women he had met but she was unknown. And that was there. The thrill he felt was immaculate and impatience nagged behind his calm demeanor.

Until he realized, she was absolutely unknown.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" He asked, getting up and unfolding his sleeves.

"I checked out of the hotel, so no." She followed his lead and stood up, wondering what he was up to.

He nodded, primed to be of use and he indirectly proposed her a proffer.

"I expected that. Come with me then, you look worn out." He pulled on his coat and started walking towards the door.

"With you?" She trailed a few steps behind him like a lost child who was being ignored by her mother.

His silent laughter went unnoticed by her as they exited his office. "How do you feel about pancakes?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." She smiled a little before answering.

"Well let's find out then."

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