"Mimi."
Nothing answered.
Si Hon couldn't breathe right.
Not in the dramatic way. Not the kind that looks like anything from the outside.
Just— his chest kept moving wrong, inhaling too fast and not getting enough out of it, his shoulders rising slightly with each breath while his hands pressed flat against the top of his desk like the solid surface was the only thing keeping him connected to the room. The classroom continued existing normally around him.
Chalk. Teacher's voice. Someone in the back whispering something to their friend. A phone screen lighting up briefly under a desk two rows over.
Everything completely, normal.
And Si Hon sat in the middle of it shaking.
