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“Hm.”
Caine pondered long and hard, staring at the small red and blue die with yellow runes etched on it, on his desk at his office. He stared at it with so much intensity, that if looks could kill, the die would’ve shattered to many tiny pieces already.
It’s been 17 hours. And it’s 17 hours too long since the die glowed. A signal to which it’s designated Puppet, is ready to come back.
Back to him.
It’s strange, though. Why is she taking a while? What is she experiencing to hold her back for this long? His false heart skips and he feels an ache, wanting to clutch at it until it subsides. He wanted to drink. He wanted this worry to go away. But in order to perform the task of bringing her back , he needed to be sober. And this has been the most painful 17 hours he had to be sober.
A long and pained sigh escapes him.
It’s not like this was the first time Pomni had died.
Yes, it’s happened a thousand times. Yes, he’s brought her back the same amount. Yet... with each death… The dread he felt was incomparable to facing a huge beast wanting to crush his every being. And it’s only intensified ever since.
He clenched his gloved hand, and with the other, he grasped the top of his head hard. He groaned, leaning back into the chair, and looking back at the die.
The image of her delicate shell flying into multiple pieces right in front of him as she faced this gangly beast of the theater, composed of one too many-a ribbons. It took the slithery monster losing interest on further pummeling the poor, broken Harlequin for him to be able to see her eye-to-eye again in her dying breath, as she mouthed her last words before the life in her eyes disappeared. And she was once again, whisked away from him.
The memory kept replaying inside his head over and over again. “Pomni…” He breathed helplessly, holding back tears. “Come back. Come back to me.”
One could sense the utter anguish that his voice held when he spoke the words, if they heard it in the first place. But there was no one in this place, save for Ragatha and Kinger. Ragatha is still blissfully unaware of Pomni’s current state, and Caine would like to keep it that way.
He did promise her that, before the red and blue die in her chest stopped glowing amidst the fight.
Plus, it wouldn’t do the redhead any good. She was attached to Pomni more than she was to anyone, after the Harlequin so graciously saved her from her entrapment. So Caine, for the sake of every party involved, kept his trap shut. Kingr, on the other hand, was very much aware of the situation. Caine didn’t even need to tell him, He just took one long look at the Puppetmaster’s pained expression upon the moment of entering the premises, and that was all it took for the oversized chess piece to read the room.
He was thankful that the Helpful King didn’t prod into it any further. Just wishing she’ll ‘come back soon’, like Caine does at this very moment.
His stomach twists itself into knots, and he wants to rip whatever it was, whether it was cogs or bolts or weird, goopy substances they were compromised of that were residing on his abdomen, out.
How does he stop feeling the pit of dread that was currently forming at his stomach? Drinking was already out of the option. Unfortunately. Perhaps a distraction? No, that may delay the revival process. What if she wanted to come back whilst he was in the middle of performing a task? Caine just couldn’t win no matter what he did.
So he sat, waiting…
Waiting…
And waiting…
And waiting.
He closed his eyes, leaning back further into his chair, and sighing.
“Why do you do this to me.” He couldn’t help but think out loud. “Are you finding amusement in my pain? Does it entertain you that I’m in such agony, that I resort to begging and pleading for you to come back?” He grabbed the die and held it gently, as if it were the most fragile object in the universe. “... Or are you really just gone at this point?”
He felt even more uneased the moment the words slipped out of his mouth.
“Pomni… my dear…” he clasped the object in both of his hands, as if emitting a prayer to the high heavens above. “... I can’t do this without you. I can’t live like this.”
There were so many things that he wanted to say. Things like ‘Why weren’t you more careful?’ , ‘how could you let this happen?’ or even ‘I thought I trained you better than this.’ but none of it ever came as close as his desire to say to her to ‘come back’ to him, and ‘I miss you.’ .
The silence was deafening, and his ears rang in high frequency, as if wanting him to go deaf from it.
But then, a glow.
The die flickered in and out, but it was the very thing he had been waiting for, for so. Many. Goddamned. Hours.
The glow was more intense than usual. And naturally, he springs up from his chair, and immediately runs to the direction of the basement, where he spies Ragatha in her usual “relaxation” spot.
“Oh! Good evening, Caine! Would you like to participate with me in my refreshment activity?” She asked, lifting a tea cup, and Caine instinctively hid the glowing object into his coat’s inner pockets. He clears his throat with his free hand.
“...A-As much as I-I would love to, dear, I unfortunately have an important matter to attend to. Do enjoy your little free time. Oh, would you perhaps, like Bubble to accompany you in my stead?” Caine offered to distract Ragatha’s gaze away from his coat pocket –no doubt curious of what he tucked inside– and it works miraculously, as Ragatha’s face contorts to visible discomfort and disgust.
“E-eh, no… no thank you, please. I think I’ll keep to myself for now.” Ragatha leaned back into her chair, and enjoyed the warmth of the tea all the while listening to the vinyl she had been playing.
Caine hurriedly opens the door to the cellar, to which, doesn’t exactly go unnoticed by the ragdoll. He climbed down the long flight of spiraling concrete stairs, and finally, there.
Where her shell was waiting for a source of life to settle in, strapped to the surgical table to prevent it from sprawling onto the ground lifelessly.
Okay, first things first. Making sure that the body is stable enough to hold life.
He checks each joints to see if they've been properly fixed, making sure there isn't any cracks or broken pieces so that it isn't uncomfortable (or even make matters worse) when she comes back. There's none, and he prepares for the next procedure. Checking both eyes to see if they can move in place, it pains him to see how this harlequin body was so devoid of life. She looks just like an unmoving marionette, those pesky lifeless things, and it unnerved him. But he pushes down these feelings to check for the other eye. So far, so good. The other eye is just feeling a little dry, so he grabs some eye drops to moisturize it.
Next, it was time to moisturize the mouth and throat, so that Pomni won't be parched. He grabs a glass of water, and lifts the harlequin head again to make it "drink". The water goes down easily, and he holds the head upward for a few moments, until he can confirm that all of it has done it's job of rehydrating the puppet body. Everything is going smoothly so far, so now, he just has to do the most important task: Say something that can help anchor the soul residing inside the die to their reality.
He takes a deep breath. "Pomni." The die continued to flicker in and out. "If you can hear me at all... Do you still remember when you complained about your sandwich being eaten?"
Nothing.
"Well, Bubble ate it. Sorry."
In an instant, the die glowed as bright as it could, and Caine sighs in relief that she was responding, even if he could only assume it was out of a very intense and negative reaction.
Caine took one last look into the die, before opening the buttons of the shirt just enough to reveal the spot of where the die should be inserted in. There’s a lump in his throat and he gulps, carefully attaching the artificial heart of the Harlequin into the shell.
He takes a couple of steps back, but not before patting the still lifeless harlequin on the shoulder. His brows furrow as he awaits in anticipation, witnessing the way her eyes light back up, and she gasps for air terribly as if she had just spent way too long underwater.
She flails her strapped arms around in defense and screaming battle cries, but Caine is immediate to assure her. “Pomni! Calm down! It’s just me! It’s me… Caine.” He takes cautious steps, hands held out in order to show the frantic Puppet he means no harm.
Pomni blinks as she takes in Caine’s features, and visibly calms down. “Caine… Caine. Yeah. I…” She was visibly distraught, but chooses not to say anything. For some reason, Caine finds it strange. This was the first time Pomni had behaved this way after her temporary death. Perhaps, there really was something troubling her from returning.
“What happened.” His voice was stern, and she takes a vaguely fearful look at him. “I… saw something. While I was… dead.” She reports, and his brows furrow even further.
“What was it?” Caine asks, and Pomni is debating whether she should tell him or not. “To be honest, I don’t know. It was just… a weird goop.” She explains. “It wanted to crush me, but I escaped, I think. That’s as far as I could remember” the Harlequin adds, and for a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Caine’s features, his eyes hidden underneath the shadow casted by his angular mouth.
“Could you… you know, free me from this? I think I’m calm enough now.” She looks at the locks, and Caine wordlessly complies as he undoes everything holding her body in place. She rubs her wrists, sighing in relief.
“Thanks Cai-” Her words were cut off as Caine grabbed her bigger left arm, pinning it above her head as he loomed over her.
“Ah! What the fu-!!” She protested in surprise, but visibly got very red at their current predicament. She could feel his breath brush on her face, having no traces of any alcohol. A part of her is impressed at his ability to hold back from drinking if certain conditions are met, and the other is… admittedly, a little flushed from the sinful thoughts that crossed her head .
She felt her breath quicken, struggling a little to get out of the grasp. He just kept staring at her, his eyes still not visible, further emphasizing how serious he was at the moment. His face slowly inched a little closer, and closer. Her eyes nearly shut close, preparing to accept whatever he may do next.
It was only until they were only a centimeter apart that Caine stopped himself. Pomni felt a little irritated at his hesitance. “Wh.. why didn’t you…” it was difficult to hide her flushed appearance.
Caine lifts his head back to its original position. Instead, he chooses to speak. “...Try not to die a bit more frequently next time. Do you not know how hard it is to keep bringing you back and reassembling the pieces?” He lets go of her hand, and with a still visible blush on her face, looks away from his stare.
“I-I’m sorry Caine. I promise I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.” Pomni rubbed at her arm, a rare expression of guilt etched on her face.
“That’s all I needed to hear, my dear. Come! Ragatha is severely missing your presence. I do believe she’s still in her usual spot.”
Ah, so he’s back to being whimsical again. But Pomni just couldn’t help but ask.
“Hey… Caine? What was um… that, back there?”
“Hm?”
“You know… you were about to…” Should she even say ‘kiss’? How would it even work for both of them?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sigh. Guess it's back to ignoring whatever's happening between them.