Silence | Book 2

1-12: Test Test

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Alright, I can do this. It's maths, it stays the same – I know this and it's always the same, I can do this. Oh fuck me...

Tristan frantically paced up and down the empty hallway two levels above ground floor where his exams would be held – in ten minutes. He flipped through several pages worth of schematics and bullet points of how to solve all the mathematical problems that would be thrown his way. Closing his eyes, he recalled everything that he had remembered to heart over the course of several weeks. Each step, each detail, anything and everything that could be relevant.

With a heavy sigh, he relented to his own nerves, knowing there was nothing more he could do. Quietly he went downstairs, where his classmates were revising as well. Several groups of people discussed the material and lamented their eternal lack of time. For the most part he stayed out of it, aside from the occasional 'good luck' that he shared with people he was more acquainted with.

He sat down in the wooden chair in front of the small school desk. All around him, others did the same, taking out pencils and giving their notes a last look through. In an attempt to settle down his mind, he closed his eyes and thought of something calm and relaxing: the rustling sound of wind through grass, of clouds lazily drifting by in a blue sky – of Hibiki grinning and walking backwards on a trail. He couldn't help but smile ever so slightly at the memory of that same Saturday, even if it felt far away already.

But then the loud sound of a chair scraping on the tiles overwhelmed him again. He opened his eyes and looked for the source, his heart pounding and the palms of his hands sweaty. A few breaths got stuck in his chest. Oh no, not now. Don't panic. Not right here, in front of everyone.

The thought alone frightened him. So he tried his very best to push through. The breaths were narrow, aching slightly from the force. I'm stressed. It's asthma. Quickly he glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall. He had a few more minutes. Only barely enough time.

He grabbed his bag and stood up. The scraping of his chair made him awfully self-conscious of that action. Quietly he raised a hand and apologised without actually speaking, before darting down the narrow lane of desks.

Once he was outside of the hall, he turned a corner to find a secluded spot. The effort made him wheeze, even fast-paced walking enough to leave him out of breath. Or maybe the asthma had fully flared up by then. He plucked his inhaler from his bag, and took two deep breaths of the medicine – as deep as he could.

When he walked back in, the explanation of the rules had already started. As silently as he could, with the eyes of his classmates and the invigilators alike on him, he sat down again. Although his breaths were still narrow, the knowledge that the medicine would help soon made it easier to deal with.

He picked up his pencil, and followed along with the remainder of the rules, even if they were nothing strange or unusual. I'll be fine. I can do it. They were given the clear to turn the page and look at the very first question. He did so fast yet reluctantly, not wanting to waste time and at the same time not wanting to see the question afraid that he wouldn't know it.

The first part were twenty five multiple choice questions, followed by five larger mathematical exercises. He did the multiple choice first, quickly without doubting or thinking too much – that would be for when he'd finished the rest, if he managed to at all.

Once he had filled all those questions in, he looked over the exercises. Using his extra paper, he pencilled down all the steps that he had learnt for each problem, just so he wouldn't forget them mid-exam. I know this. Just do the steps. Again he attempted to take a deep breath and calm himself down, and it worked. The extra air immediately put him at ease, his lungs no longer aching.