Jinsu wasn’t fully sure if she was naturally an incredible introvert or if it was just the people she’d had the misfortune to go to school with, but she would have swapped almost anything in her possession not to be on the makeshift stage as the director of the Institute tapped on a wine glass to get everybody’s attention.  It was well into the evening by that point (and Jinsu was having to stifle yawns), and they had long since migrated through to the dining room for food.  That had been one of the few occasions that Jinsu was not relieved to have been separated from all her schoolmates – the schools had been arranged into circular tables of seven or eight, and the chances of her being forced to sit next to somebody who hated her were high – because her father had decided that she was going to sit on his table with all the important people.  If he hadn’t been there, Jinsu would have relished in the opportunity to speak to some of the leaders in the field, but it was pretty clear from her father’s frosty glances that she was to speak only when spoken to, and he dominated the conversation so much that everybody was too distracted to talk to her.

The after-dinner speech, which actually came between the main course and dessert, was surprisingly dull.  After the first minute and a half, by which point a stupor had descended over the room, Jinsu had expected to fall asleep, but Jongdae must have contacted her big brother, because her phone blew up with a barrage of text messages.  She had spent the rest of the talk surreptitiously texting Jimin back under the table.  Reluctant as she was to admit her father was right, Jongdae was the kind of person who’d make a truly fantastic husband.  Jinsu just hoped that some other girl would be lucky enough to have him.

The director of the Institute tapped on his glass again, not satisfied at the low hum that was still present in the room.  Jinsu’s phone vibrated again and she glanced down at it.

“It is my great pleasure,” the director announced, “to welcome you all here this evening for the annual conference and prizegiving for our youth scientists.”

Really, Jimin had written, Jinsu focussing on his  message rather than on the director’s voice droning on in the background.  I can’t believe Dad did that.  If your project is patented, it could be used all over the world for the advancement of renewable energy.  Winning a prize like this would get good media coverage for that, and it would also be easy to media-play on it, not to mention that Dad would be well-placed to advance it in the market himself.  What was he thinking?

Jinsu sighed, her shoulders slumping.  I don’t know.  To be honest, I’m so used to it I don’t even care anymore.

You do care, Jimin wrote back.  In the words of the venerably wise Albus Dumbledore, you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death from the pain of it.  Jongdae said you were distraught.  The fact is that Park Jiwoon is your father and he’s not acting like one, and that hurts worse than any b*tch.

It was so true that Jinsu couldn’t even bring herself to scold him for being cheesy and using quotes.  She sniffed, a lump springing to , and the finished plate of food in front of her blurred as her eyes filled with tears.  How many years had it been since she’d given up wishing for a father who would be proud of her and love her because of who she was instead of judging her by her gender and dismissing her achievements?

“. . . And we have decided, after some deliberation, that that honour shall go to Park Jinsu!”

Startled at the loud declaration from the director of the Institute, Jinsu looked up.  The man was smiling benevolently at her, as if waiting for her to react or get up or make a speech or something.  Unsure what she was honoured to receive, Jinsu hastily locked her phone and forced a smile onto her face as she looked around the room and waved.

Dead silence met her.

“Do stand up, Miss Park,” the director encouraged.  “I’m not sure everybody can see you.”

Jinsu got to her feet and waved awkwardly again.  This time, there was acknowledgement.  A smattering of polite applause broke out across the room, and then there was a loud catcall and a boy Jinsu didn’t recognise from a school in an emerald green blazer cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “whoo, Jinsu for science, yeah man!”

The awkwardness vanished at once as laughter breezed through the room, and Jinsu felt herself turn scarlet.  The boy in the emerald blazer settled back in his seat with a smirk, draping an arm across the back of his chair.

One of the doors at the back of the room opened quietly and Jinsu saw Jongdae’s figure slip through.  He was now wearing his school uniform, and he smiled and gave her a double thumbs up when he saw her.  Feeling her smile beginning to turn more genuine, Jinsu twisted around to face the institute director once again.

“I should add!” he began again, his voice rising over the renewed hubbub.  “Jinsu’s specific position is the Youth Ambassador for the Promotion of Women in Science, not just for young people in general, and if you take a good look around the room, it should be evident why.”

“We gonna have a male one too, sir?” somebody yelled from the back.

“There are more than enough of us,” the director said firmly, continuing before anybody else could heckle.  “We are thinking about establishing a corresponding position for adults, but we will only have adult female scientists if we have youth female scientists, and what better person to foster that that the daughter of our very own Park Jiwoon, who will now present the prizes for our annual competition.”

Jinsu would have broken the chair if she’d sat down any faster, but she didn’t want to be in plain view as the director of the institute more or less informed the room that she only had the position because of her connections.  She almost returned to her phone and Jimin out of nerves as her father stepped up to the podium, but he had a good vantage point of her there and she knew he would be furious if he caught her.  It wasn’t worth it.  Reluctantly, she sat up to listen.

“Thank you, Director,” he acknowledged with a smile before bracing both of his arms on the podium and leaning forwards a little.  “Well, what a wonderful evening.  Forgive me for being an indulgent father for a moment or two, but I would just like to share how proud I am of my daughter tonight.  As the director has just made us aware, there are very few females at all in this room tonight – I can only see three from here—”

Jinsu frowned.  She knew she’d counted at least seventeen females out of somewhere over three hundred students and there were probably more.

“—But I do believe that Jinsu is the only girl from her school here tonight.”

That one was true.

“I should also like to add that Jinsu very graciously gave up the honour of winning first place tonight, not just because I am presenting the prizes, but also on the basis that as the youth ambassador for science, she should use her new position to encourage as many of her peers as possible, and what better way to do that, I ask, than opening up the opportunity for as many of you as possible to be the very first, in the world, to travel on a time machine?”

Jinsu choked on air, so incensed that she didn’t even know what to think.  Was he trying to make her universally hated?

Stunned, she sat there as he announced that all the usual prizes – certificates for honorable mentions, certificates and a small glass trophy for fourth and fifth, both, plus a year pass to an amusement park (excellent place to study Newton’s laws of physics) for third, certificate and trophy alongside a week-long trip to Jeju Island for second, and the same for first, but with a trip to CERN in Switzerland instead for first – would be awarded, but that the top five prizewinners would also win a trip on the time machine the following day.  Murmurs of excitement ran through the room.

She was still too focussed on trying to breathe properly to really take in the four groups that were called forward for the honorable