After a few more days in the hospital, Minji was released. She had been given a strict warning to take care what she did for a few weeks; she was also told to have another person with her, or nearby, in case something was to happen. Her Umma, of whom had to remind Minji who she was, drove Minji to her house. It had been cleaned by Minji's family, her Umma and Appa, siblings, Rei, and Hana.

Minji clutched her violin case that sat on her lap as they pulled up to the house. The two women stepped out of the vehicle, Minji limping, and her Umma unlocked the front door, letting Minji step in first. As soon as Minji's eyes saw the inside, she froze, her breath caught in and her heart pounding in her chest. The older woman noticed immediately, and carefully placed her arms around her daughter, pushing her further inside. No words were spoken between them. They walked into Minji's bedroom and sat on the bed.

“I need you to calm down, baby girl. This is your home, and I promise that nothing will happen to you.” her Umma comforted.

Minji stared at the pictures that hung on the walls of her room. “Who're they? I see you, and Appa, and my Oppas and Dongsaeng. But who's that?” She pointed to a picture of her when she was younger, sitting next to a hospital bed that held a girl.

A sad smile came to her Umma's face. “That's Park Mi-Cha. She was fourteen in that picture, and you were thirteen. Mi-Cha had a terminal illness, and couldn't go to America to go to a performing arts college that her Appa had paid for. You two met, and you two looked so alike, and she wanted you to take her place.”

Curious, Minji stared at the picture. “Where is she now, Umma?”

“Halfway through your first year at the college, she died.” the older woman explained sadly.

“And I went into a state of depression when I found out, right? I stopped eating and sleeping, and was emitted into the hospital because of it.” Minji added with a frown.

She nodded. “That's right. But you got better.”

Minji sighed. “That's who I composed a song for. Park Mi-Cha.”

Nodding, she stood. “Are you ready to look at the rest of the house, Minji? There are some things downstairs that you might like.”

The two exited the room and, hesitating slightly, made their way to the stairs hidden under the island in the kitchen. Minji went down first, still holding her violin, and her Umma followed after. Once down, Minji looked around and smiled at all the instruments in the room. The young woman put her violin case down on a shelf, then made a bee line for the computers and turned them on. The computers booted up and went to the home screen. On the one computer it showed that Minji had hundreds of e-mails, and on the other it showed files of things that she had recorded, both for work and for fun. First, she checked her e-mails. Some of it was only spam mail. The rest were e-mails and videos to her by worried people. She clicked on the most recent one and opened the video.

A group of pale skinned girls in school uniforms spoke to the camera, speaking in English.

“I don't care if your name is Mi-Cha Park, or Yoo Minji, or whatever else. Those fans had no reason to go and beat on you. Get better, and fight on.” one said.

“Please get better soon, and continue dancing and acting and playing music.” a second smiled.

“We'll be waiting for your return. Please don't let a few angry fans get you down, Mi. Your true fans will keep cheering, no matter what.” a third added encouragingly.

“Fight on!” the three cheered.

Minji clicked on the next video. A dark tanned man with dark brown hair spoke in Spanish.

“Mi-Cha, is this really what happens when I leave you somewhere alone? As your old manager, I feel partly responsible for this. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.” he apologized sadly. “Please get better soon, Minji. Old manager Carter Rosa's missing your bright spirit.”

Tears in her eyes, Minji went to the next video. Two men stood in front of the camera, one with short black hair in a fohawk, and the other with short brown hair, his bangs slightly hanging down one side of his face. They spoke in Chinese.

“We've never officially met, but we're sure you know about us. It's Henry Lau and Zhou Mi from Super Junior M. Anyways, we're sorry about what happened to you, Yoo Minji.” the black haired man, Henry, stated.

The brown haired one, Zhou Mi, nodded. “Get better soon, and take care of everyone there, Yoo Minji. Maybe you'll be able to keep them in order. Hopefully we'll meet someday.”

The two smiled. “Take care, and maybe we'll visit sometime soon. Feel better, Minji.”

“It looks like you're very popular, Minji. Everyone wants you to get better.” her Umma cooed, petting Minji's blonde hair.

Minji frowned, wiping at her tears that were falling uncontrollably. “This makes me feel even worse about losing my memory. I have no idea what they're talking about, and I want to be able to so I can fight to be myself. I don't know who I am, and it's frustrating.”

Humming, her Umma murmured softly. “You'll get there, baby girl. Don't give up. You'll remember when you need to.”

She kissed the crown of Minji's head, then took her leave. Minji stared at the computer screen, tears falling, and bit her lower lip to keep from sobbing. She watched a few more videos, all telling her to get better. After her ninth video, Minji had to stop and turn away, as the guilt was too much for her. Limping over to the shelf, she retrieved her violin and flute, then brought the two instruments over to where her keyboard was. She started playing her violin first, playing the song she had composed for Mi-Cha, and video taped it. Next, she video taped herself playing on the piano, then again on the flute. After she was done, she sat in front of the camera and turned it on.

“Hello, everyone. This is Yoo Minji. I'm on the road to recovery, but I believe everyone should know that, due to a major hit to my head, I have little to no memory. I'm fighting to get it back, and am working hard. The first memory I remembered is of a girl, an inspiration to me. Her name is Park Mi-Cha. No, that is not my counter-part in America.” Minji stated clearly.

“She was a fourteen year old girl I met when I was thirteen, and she was terminally ill. She was really smart, graduated early, and wanted to go to college in America, and her Appa had paid, but she got too sick to go. She sent me there, instead, and I pretended to be her. About halfway through my first year there, Mi-Cha's internal organs gave out on her and she died.” Minji continued, tears coming to her eyes. She her lips. “I composed this song for her, and I hope she can hear it, wherever she is right now. Hopefully one day I'll be as strong as her.”

With that done, Minji edited the clips so the music all fit together, and her message played after the song was over. Then she posted it on YouTube. Within half an hour, it had been viewed more than three hundred times and had many comments on it.

Get better

Stay strong

You're a strong girl, don't give up

Get your memory back soon

We're praying for you

I'll never be as strong as you. Stay that way

That was beautiful

You are a great inspiration

Fighting!

The comments were endless on their hope and encouragement. There were even a few video responses. Taking a deep breath, Minji curled up on one of the worn couches and closed her eyes to sleep, finally comfortable being out of the hospital.