Chapter Text
“Wow, I mean, I don’t put it past him. But it sounds like you cracked him open a little. More than anyone else has.”
Cracked. Like an egg. Contrary to what he said earlier. Unlike an egg, he was what he put out. The “funny one.” The one who points and laughs and picks at your insecurities until he—not you, but he—is laughing until his stomach hurts.
Pomni was explaining the events that unfolded before the end of the adventure to Ragatha, whose expression hadn’t changed once since she began speaking.
“I don’t know about that,” Pomni said, her voice edged. “He made it pretty clear—more than once—that he didn’t care about me, even after I landed a few punches.” She forced a smile, trying to find some humor in the fact that she’d actually taken a swing at Jax. But when she looked up, Ragatha wasn’t laughing. She was only looking down at her—softly, almost like a parent watching a child. Ragatha placed her hands on Pomni’s shoulder gently. Pomni shifted slightly away, and Ragatha noticed.
“I-uh…” Ragatha became flustered. Did she do something wrong? Had she already overstepped after Pomni had opened up like this? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be—”
“It’s okay.” Pomni glanced up with a soft smile. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Ragatha smiled back, feeling a little lighter.
Pomni laid awake through the night prior, until her own racing thoughts finally dragged her into sleep. Most of it revolved around Jax. Every time she remembered the good—the teamwork, the laughter, the trust—it was cut short by the same image: the gun in her hand, his eyes caught between her and the barrel.
SHOOT ME!
How dare he. She saw right through him, and she had hoped he had noticed. Pomni remembered the look in his eyes as he walked away: muddled, weary, like someone whose façade was becoming too heavy to carry. But then again… what if he hadn’t been pretending at all? What if he truly didn’t care about anyone, and she was nothing more than a pawn for his amusement? Jax had told her to let loose, to stop being human, to become a cartoon—to embrace the hollow lack of humanity he seemed to have already mastered.
But she was human, and so was he, with emotions and a need for connection. Pomni found herself at a crossroads. He had told her how he felt, but his actions said otherwise.
“I just don’t understand it fully. It makes me feel like an idiot for thinking we were having fun—” Pomni said, frustration edging her voice. “—that we were friends.”
“I don’t think any part of that is wrong. If you felt it, the feelings are real.”
For once, Pomni felt like Ragatha had said something she actually needed to hear.
“I know he’s somewhat capable,” Ragatha said slowly. “There was someone you might even call a friend of Jax’s, but…” She cut herself off, noticing how intently Pomni was listening. Ragatha knew this could help Pomni—give her someone to relate to, someone to validate her feelings. But then she remembered: Jax had been her friend once too.
“I-I really shouldn’t get too much into it. I had a conversation with Kinger. One I’ve been needing for a long time.”
It was Ragatha’s turn.
“That’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve realized I can be a lot sometimes. I tend to say things hoping to make people feel better. But Kinger made me see that while it’s important to care, I also need to give people space to process their own emotions. I get uncomfortable when others are upset—and that, in its own way, can be selfish of me.”
Pomni listened. She remembered how Ragatha’s words had once made her feel judged, like her kindness wasn’t genuine. But now, hearing her admit that she gets uncomfortable around other people’s pain, something softened inside her. She could see that Ragatha’s actions weren’t meant to hurt—she just struggled in her own way. It didn’t erase the past, but it made it easier to understand her—and even forgive a little.
“Anyway… um, I hope you can understand,” Ragatha continued. “Jax used to be different. At one point, he had someone, and I feel like when he needed me most, I wasn’t really there.”
Pomni could tell she was struggling to get the words out.
“I didn’t say the right things. I was talking, trying to say the ‘right’ things. But the truth is… I wasn’t really saying what he needed to hear. I was saying what made me feel better.”
Her hands fiddled with her dress as she recounted the moments, remembering how badly she had messed up without even noticing. She wasn’t about to do the same with Pomni. She looked back at her with a genuine smile. Pomni placed her hand on Ragatha’s.
“I’m glad you told me. And I’m glad I have a friend like you who cares.”
Cold. It was the first time in a while that he felt cold.
Like Pomni, Jax’s night was spent struggling to sleep. He lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling even though he told himself he wasn’t thinking about her. He didn’t want to admit the guilt gnawing at him, didn’t want to acknowledge the weight that pressed against his chest like some invisible hand. Still, it was there, insistent on refusing to let him breathe. He rolled onto his side, pulled the covers tighter, and tried to convince himself he’d slept. But the memory of the night—or what he could barely call a night—refused to let him. He remembered the moments he was awake, every hesitation and every word left unsaid.
The stolen keys next to the Rubik Cube. You’re not the funny one!
The picture frames hanging on the wall. I do not care about you, or ANYONE ELSE in this circus!
The trash can with a memory lying at the bottom. There’s nothing more to me.
He kept telling himself it was true. I don’t care. He repeated it in his head like a mantra, trying to convince himself that he had meant it. But the guilt wouldn’t let him off the hook. Every time he said it in his mind, the echo felt wrong, hollow. He could feel it under his ribs, a tightness that wouldn’t release. Deep down, he knew the words had landed exactly as they sounded—harsh, cutting, final. No excuses, no context, no anger to soften them. He had hurt someone.
I don’t want to care.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, still feeling the weight of the night pressing on him. His tired eyes sharpened, and the trembling of his lip turned into a big, determined smile. It was time to move on.
Ragatha and Pomni were the last to enter the common area. The chatter was typical. No one expected anything different—just another day repeating exactly like the last. But there was a stare, sharp enough to feel like a knife.
They were all waiting for Caine. If they were lucky, he wouldn’t show up for another hour, giving them more time to relax before being thrown into their next adventure. His last few hadn’t exactly been showstoppers for any of them.
Pomni tried her best to keep the sharp pain in her back at bay. She focused on her conversation with Ragatha and Gangle to distract herself. But Jax’s gaze stayed on her, his eyes squinting with a smile, like he knew something no one else in the room did. He was uncomfortable. Extremely. But he wasn’t going to let anyone know.
he hated that he felt like he hadn’t eaten. A sour stomach. He watched Pomni speak, avoiding his gaze. He could be sick.
“Goooooood Morningggg!”
A burst of an explosive voice crashed into the room. Caine spilled enthusiasm everywhere, bouncing with overexcitement. In his left hand—not the cane that floated at his right side—was a piece of paper. Faces were printed on it, stars resting below like tally marks.
“How’s everyone doing?”
An aggressive “eh” filled the room.
Caine’s posture shifted—shoulders tense, his grip on the paper tightening.
He swooped like a bird next to Zooble, tugging and shaking them as if trying to jolt them out of their moodiness. “What sour pusses we’ve become!” Zooble waved him off, swatting, but he was too quick, darting back to hover like a restless shadow.
“I know we’re all upset none of us won the Best Character Award. I, myself, know it’s hard to expect perfection from everyone. But that doesn’t mean we need to feel so down about it—”
“No one is upset about that,” Zooble cut in.
“Then what is it then?!” Caine snapped, a hint of malice creeping in. His patience with Zooble was thinning.
“We’re all just tired. We want a break from all this—” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Nonsense!”
“You think my adventures are nonsense?” His glance dropped to the paper in his hand. The words stung. No one voted for me.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ragatha offered softly. “It’s just… everyone seems burnt out. Maybe we could get a day off—”
“Don’t be silly! We all know what happens when we don’t enrich our brains!” He pointed at his mouth-shaped head, rolling his eyes, tongue sticking out like a cartoon. “If you don’t like my adventures, then what’s the point of being here?”
The circus characters stayed quiet.
“Why don’t we pick something from the suggestion box?” Gangle said.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I threw that out.”
Everyone shifted in slight shock.
“What!” Zooble, Pomni, and Jax said at once. Pomni noticed those were Jax’s only words so far and gave him a glance. He quickly looked away.
“Why would you do that!” Zooble yelled.
“Well, it just seems like you guys can’t agree on anything. It’s better if I stay in charge. Keep it simple, stupid.”
Zooble found herself taken aback at Caine’s sudden jab.
Bubble appeared beside him, lugging the heavy video camera, weighed down as always. “That reminds me. Bubble—I reviewed all the amazing footage from our great shooting, booting adventure! And I have to say, I didn’t know we were all developing such feelings for each other.”
A pause rippled through a few of them.
“I mean, if I started a reality TV show about you guys, it’d be a number-one hit!”
“The drama I witnessed. The angst,” Bubble said slyly.
“That’s right! And I feel like there’s only one solution to fixing everyone’s pity attitude and getting your heads screwed back on straight.”
Voices tumbled over each other.
“Rest?”
“A board game?”
“Time away from you!”
They don’t like you.
Caine’s hands clenched into fists at the last remark—no surprise it came from Zooble.
It was a quiet reminder that they were losing patience. He was built to lead, to keep the circus running, yet a small part of him couldn’t shake the thought that he might not be enough. As he outlined what was coming, there was a weight in the room. Subtle, but there. A question no one wanted to ask. He knew, even if he tried to ignore it, that this next challenge might force more than just the circus to change.
“To confront your issues!”
He waved like a master of all, and the words THERAPY EXPOSURE flashed behind him in circus pizzazz.
“I am not going to therapy,” Jax grumbled.
“I’m not surprised,” Zooble remarked.
“See! We need to get back to everyone liking each other.”
“When has that ever—”
“So we’ll put you in pairs.”
“What!” Zooble barked.
“But we’ll keep it a secret until we begin. Just know—after reviewing the footage from the last adventure—some of you DEFINITELY need time to work out your problems.”
Ragatha, Pomni, and Jax all met each other’s eyes, a sudden ache twisting in their stomachs, heat rising to their cheeks.
“Well, I’m not doing it. I’m skipping this one,” Zooble said.
“Same here,” Jax muttered.
“Well, that’s just too bad.” Caine’s voice grew firmer.
“Ugh, what do you mean ‘too bad’? You can’t exactly force us to play along.”
The room went quiet when Caine’s smile didn’t fade. His tone shifted, firmer than before. “Oh, but I can,” he said, voice steady and clear. The circus lights dimmed for just a second, enough to make everyone sit up straighter. For the first time, there was real authority in his words. Zooble’s arms dropped slightly.
“What—”
He pressed a button.
Suddenly, wind rushed around them. They were free-falling into a deep pit. As they turned, they caught one last glimpse of Caine and Bubble’s shadow hovering above, until all that was left was the green-and-blue glow of his eyes sharpening in the darkness.