“I’m still typing,” he mutters back.

He can practically hear her wince, and Seokga turns to glare at her before he can stop himself. She surprises him by glaring right back, cheeks blue with flustered panic.

“Please just hurry up,” she hisses, eyes darting nervously to the door.

“I am going as fast as I can,” he grits out.

Seokga: whats the pissweee

Seokga: I wasn;t don e sending that

Then, with painstaking slowness:

Seokga: What is the passwoord for securty systm?

Seokga: answer no w

A moment later, his phone vibrates and he nearly drops it on the ground.

“Ultimatevacationcruiseship2235,” Seokga reads before shoving the damned thing into his pocket. Kisa nods and—quicker than he would ever have thought possible—enters the password. “Playback button,” she muses, staring intently up at the monitor. “Playback button…here.” There’s a quick click, and then the screens are shifting, the strolling people on them moving backward. A second later, there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“It’s us,” Hajun calls, sounding breathless.

Reluctantly, Seokga lets them in. Somi is grinning.

“We led them on a wild chase,” she says. Her usually immaculate bob is mussed and her eyes are bright. “They’re somewhere on the upper decks, convinced we’re hiding around any corner. Isn’t that right, honey?” She bats her eyelids at the idol, who blushes blue and grins while ruefully rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nicely done,” Seokga grudgingly admits.

“I learned from the best.” Somi glances over to Kisa, smile falling when she doesn’t look back and share the grin. Instead, Kisa is staring up at the screens.

“We ran all over the ship,” Hajun pants, laughter in his voice. “I mean, all of it. We found a karaoke bar—I didn’t even know we had one here.”

“And a candy store,” Somi adds, and elbows Hajun conspiratorially. The boy snorts as he reaches into the pocket of his scrubs and pulls out a handful of wrapped sweets. The white-on-red font reads Kopiko.

“Here,” Hajun says, and tosses them to Seokga. “She says you’ll like them.”

He closes his fist around the candies in disdain. “Doubtful.” Seokga loathes mortal sweets. He prepares to toss them in the garbage.

“It’s coffee-flavored,” Hajun tells him with a knowing smile before walking over to stand behind Kisa with a casual, gentle hand on her shoulder before she noticeably tenses and he, with a distinctly apologetic cringe, hurriedly stands off to the side.

Seokga pockets the candy and also moves toward Kisa. The monitors are quickly playing footage in reverse, so quickly that Seokga nearly misses it—but Kisa’s sharp eyes catch the flare of white on the upper-left screen. She quickly pauses the others, rewinds, and presses a few buttons that seem to make the footage play normally, at a neutral speed.