***Potentially a double update.  Make sure you've read chapter 15***

Jino was a lot less boring in a more personal situation.  He had a little room to use as an office near the kitchen and actually got quite enthusiastic about the arts and crafts of the era they were going back to.  On further probing, when Jinsu laid out her father’s plan and the National History Association’s request, he was willing to bend rules here and there.  So long as it wasn’t something fantastically unique, and was paid for, and didn’t somehow drastically alter a person’s situation and standing in life, he figured the difference would be negligible, and set about quizzing her on her ability to speak more like somebody from the Balhae period.  A few more questions revealed that he’d studied the history of language at university, which was why he was on this particular job.

Exhausted nevertheless from their conversation, and also from her lack of sleep the night before, Jinsu decided it would be a good idea to avoid the groups of boys traipsing around the Attayear and slipped off to her bedroom, intending on a quick nap to freshen herself up.  She was so tired she ended up knocking out for a full six-and-a-half hours before waking with a start during a bad dream in which she’d forgotten to hand her homework in to Mr Song and he’d put her in detention.

Disorientated and wincing, Jinsu propped herself up into a sitting position, only for pain to shoot through her right hand.  She lifted it at once, but it was throbbing madly from her putting too much weight on it, and the dressing was half off.  She was going to need somebody to help her with that.  Mrs Kwon and Saeeun had largely been the ones to ensure her splint was on properly and that her fingers were strapped together, but it wasn’t something she would be able to do herself.

It was time she got out of bed anyway.  Figuring she should go find Yixing to ask about the watch and combine that with getting him to held her with her hand, she made her way into the en suite and grabbed her toiletries bag, her right hand hanging uselessly by her side.

There was a general air of liveliness when Jinsu got out into the balcony passage.  One or two doors along the way had been propped open to a shoe’s width, and voices proceeded from within.  A quick glance over the balcony told her that more of her fellow students were downstairs and trying to follow what was going on with the machine’s progress, or exploring again.

From what she remembered, Minseok’s room was right round the other side.  Jinsu hesitated for a moment, trying to remember exactly which door it was, because she figured it wouldn’t be great if she knocked on some random boy’s by accident, but was thankfully spared the possibility of that when she noticed the two signs attached to every door – one with the names of the three occupants in every room, and the other with what had to be Minseok’s chores rota.  Nam Taehyun, Lee Taemin and Kim Wonsik were next to her.  Her eyes flicked down to the rota, and she had to restrain herself from reading it before the urge to ensure she’d scanned and memorised every last detail became overpowering.  She could almost hear her brother’s exasperated voice telling her she needed to learn not to freak out at leaving things undone, or skipping things if she didn’t need to do them.  It was a side to her OCD he probably understood less than her need to have everything inhumanly tidy the entire time.

She continued on round, noting that Jongdae had located himself slap bang in the middle of the horseshoe of rooms with three friends, and that Baekhyun and Chanyeol were next door to him with Kyungsoo and Sehun, which made the prospect of popping in to see Jongdae every now and then less than palatable.  Junmyeon and his friends Minho and Kyuhyun had sandwiched themselves much further round between the rooms the staff were sharing and Minseok and Yixing’s shared room at the end.

Arriving in front of the room with Minseok and Yixing’s names on the door, Jinsu reached out to knock, then remembered it was best not to with her broken hand.  Tucking the medical stuff she was going to need under her armpit, she reached up with her left hand instead.

Voices on the other side abruptly gave her pause.

“I don’t care.  She’s the only girl on the ship and it’s completely inappropriate.”

Minseok sounded exasperated.  Jinsu frowned, slowly lowering her hand.  They could only be talking about her.

The voice of the other male was too muffled for Jinsu to be able to make out, but the tone sounded familiar.

“Chanyeol’s already spoken to me,” Minseok said firmly.  “It makes no difference whether or not he’s okay with the idea, or whether or not it was his idea, or whether or not they’re cousins.  It’s still inapprop