Potentially a double update.  Make sure you've read Chapter 7

It was a bit of a struggle to open her box of food with only one hand, but thankfully only one hand was required to eat it, and by the time she was actually faced with the food, Jinsu wasn’t feeling particularly hungry.  She ate a few bites, struggled to close the box again, and then went off in search of the teachers whose lessons she’d missed.

She found Mr Song first, since he was still in the classroom marking test papers, and to her absolute astonishment, he was pretty sympathetic when he saw her hand.  Jinsu wondered if she was going to have to explain anything because he fixed her with a knowing eye, but all he said was “give me the name of who did it and they’ll be doing your detention slot.”

Jinsu didn’t dare because she knew that Dahee or somebody else would take it upon themselves to get revenge, so she tried to pass it off as an accident.  He gave her a disbelieving look and she quickly amended to I didn’t see, but it was somebody in my English class.

“Not like you can scrub floors with your hand like that anyway,” he murmured as he cancelled the detention he’d registered her for on the school intranet.  Jinsu winced: whether or not she was no longer going to have to do it, her father would still be able to see she’d been given it and he was not going to be happy.  He turned to her.  “That’s struck off on the condition that I see a medical note about that hand on my desk within the next two hours.”

Jinsu nodded and hurried away to find her English teacher.

Miss Jung looked like she was going to pass out when she realised Jinsu’s hand was bleeding, but happily signed her as absent before giving her a stack of paperwork and telling her that everybody had been paired off for a mini-project that involved learning selected scenes from Shakespeare plays.  Jinsu was absolutely horrified, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t have been paired with somebody who hated her or that she didn’t get on with, especially that it wasn’t Baekhyun, Minyoung or Dahee.  Her relief was mixed when Miss Jung smiled brightly at her and told her it was Do Kyungsoo.  The boy didn’t particularly like her, but she’d been forced to work with him before for an assignment during their statistics module and she at least knew that he’d pull his weight rather than being spiteful.  On the other hand, they only had a week and a half to learn the scenes to perform in front of the class, and she wasn’t even sure how to begin approaching Kyungsoo to ask for study dates.  He’d probably shoot lasers at her from his eyes.

It could have been worse, much much worse, but even Jinsu had to admit that it couldn’t really have been better.

Miss Jung insisted on her going to see the school nurse, and before the woman had even finished inspecting Jinsu’s unnaturally bent fingers, her big brother appeared in the sickbay, looking flustered.

“I got a text from Jongdae, of all people,” he burst out.  “How the does he know you’ve hurt your hand?”

Before Jinsu was quite aware of what was going on, she’d been bundled into the back of her brother’s car and from there into the A&E of the nearest hospital.  Jimin was half concentrating on his phone and half looking out for the doctor who’d x-rayed Jinsu’s hand mere minutes after they’d stepped into the building – sometimes the clout their family name had was incredibly useful.

“Dad is furious,” Jimin announced, scrolling through his notification.  “Your teachers have all signed you off for the day.  Shares for oil are rising on the stock market.  Your P.E. teacher wants a doctor’s note.  Jongdae’s asking how you are.  Wait, he’s saying Junmyeon’s asking how you are.  Oh well, practically no difference.  My secretary needs me to sign paperwork.  Jimin wants to su— oh my God, not for my baby sister’s ears.”

Jinsu turned to him in time to see him flush almost purple with embarrassment as he slapped a hand over his mouth and continued scrolling through his messages.

“Jimin wants to what?” she asked, momentarily distracted.

“Nothing.”

“Are you two ting?”

Jimin pretended he hadn’t heard, but his ears were also turning pink and the flush was beginning to creep down his neck.

“Ew.”  Jinsu grimaced.  “You guys are gross.  That’s not even romantic.”

“Look,” said Jimin, “when you’re dating somebody, you’ll understand.”

“Oh my God!  That means you are!  Too much information.”

“Jimin’s really worried you’re a prude now.”

“No, I just don’t want to know about my brother’s ual habits.”

Jimin considered for a moment and then brightened.  He returned to his phone to tap vigorously at the screen.

“Please don’t do it in a public place when I’m sitting right next to you,” Jinsu muttered, catching sight of a portion of the message.  He glanced sideways at her and then deleted it.  Jinsu saw him type laters, babe – I’m being ed right now.

The doctor returned at that point with a couple of x-rays in his hand.  Jimin put his phone away and straightened up so that he looked like the businessman he actually was as the doctor closed the door of the consulting room.

“Your middle finger is broken just between the two knuckles, as you can see here,” the doctor told her without preamble, pointing to the relevant part of the photo with a pen.  “And your fourth finger has a hairline fracture that you can see just along here.  They’ll take between four to six weeks to heal, and we need to straighten out your middle finger, so we’re going to give you lo