She... knows? For a moment Martin just blinks at her, already so addled that he's sure he must have misunderstood. What does she know? That he'll be fine in a moment? That he got too much air, which is surely an absurd thing to say? But the last thing he said was his name, and the answer had come then.

She returns with water, which he takes with a soft murmur of thanks, and then she tells him her name.

"Yona," he repeats as he uncaps the bottle and takes a long sip. He breathes slowly, his thumb picking absently at the bottle's label, before he looks back at her. "Sorry, I... what do you mean you know?"