Kouchisei sat upright. His hands gripped the chair arms for support. Hearing Hamasaki speak clearly, he realised the noise of his classmates had stopped and was feeling his chest rise and fall in time with his breathing. Aomori-sensei was dead? But the man teached gym! You didn't die doing gym!
He thought of his mother, and pushed up his glasses.
Looking around, he heard some wonder if this meant they'd skip gym. His lips pursed and his nails dug into the material his hands leant on. A man had died and they were worried about class! He didn't chastise them, though. He was too much of a coward for that.