Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pomni doesn’t meet her eyes anymore.

It wasn’t even subtle. There was no real attempt of pretending otherwise.

Ragatha first noticed it during the softball game. That day in general wasn’t one of her proudest moments: she may have overshared with the others, and she may have snapped at Pomni out of exasperation. Ragatha still thinks she hadn’t apologised enough for that, but it was a far cry from the worst incident then…

By now, it was obvious that Jax was fond of Pomni—anybody could’ve told her that—but nothing could prepared her for how strongly those feeling were reciprocated. Those soft words in that haunted mansion were so recent to her soul, yet Pomni was suddenly adopting his tendencies? Suddenly, Ragatha was being ushered away like some annoying afterthought?

Humiliation was an understatement to how she felt. The embarrassment was hotter than whiplash, heavier than the mild abstraction she underwent. Their victory at the softball match was carved hollow with the weight of a friendship developing without her, and Ragatha was at a loss of what to do.

Then, ever so slowly, Pomni began to disappear from her days.

At first, Ragatha made excuses. Recency illusion existed even in this world, perhaps exacerbated with all the NPC’s roaming around, right? Maybe Pomni was utterly exhausted from all the adventures? Maybe Pomni was depressed? That happens. This place did that to people.

Ragatha reached out over and over again. That’s what she thought she was best at; but despite her morning knocks, things only got worse. Even when they first met, Pomni always had this… bewildered expression on her face whenever they spoke. Now she refused to spare a glance at her at all.

And with each and every awkward conversation shared between them, Ragatha found the same question circling back to her.

Where did she go wrong?

In those moments, there was only one place to go.

Ragatha often visited her past, despite how much she despised it. If it meant forcing a smile that much longer, then every painful reminder was worth enduring.

The yelling. The berating. The guilt-tripping . Really, what she told the others barely scratched the surface. Her mother’s anger wasn’t just directed at Ragatha, but targeted towards everything around her too, poisoning her surroundings. That made it all the worse. Negativity was contagious, and Ragatha learned the consequence of that the easy way at first.

The hard way came later.

She remembered the aftermath all too vividly. Long in the past, curled up and cradling her bruised body in the corner of a locked bathroom, biting back tears. In that moment, she vowed to never become her. Anything she did remotely similar to her, Ragatha would stamp it away until it was gone. If she couldn’t even manage that, then why exist at all?

That was how she carried herself for the rest of her life. Warm smiles. Positive thinking. Nobody objected at first; in fact, people liked her newfound attitude more. Even she had little to reprimand when Ragatha never sulked.

Then she was taken to the Digital Circus.

She expected people to like it here too.

But Ragatha wasn’t stupid. She saw first-hand how Gangle’s smiles faded more and more with every compliment. She saw how Zooble’s appreciative nods become less and less frequent, eventually becoming disapproving ones from the corner of her eye.

And Jax.

When Pomni finally came, as timid and shy as she was, Ragatha really believed she could make her comfortable here. She believed her positivity could help, which was what made Pomni’s push towards Jax all the more horrifying. Even Gangle and Zooble were getting closer to one another. Ragatha didn’t know where she could go anymore.

Most of all, she couldn’t understand why. Warm smiles. Positive thinking. It’s what kept her quiet for so long.

Sometimes she returns to the words Pomni had said, before tossing them aside. The mere thought of being cruel like Jax sickened her. Whatever the person she ended up in life, she will never forgive herself for becoming even a piece of her. Negativity had taken her so low, and she wouldn’t dare bring anybody down with her.

So why did nobody wish to see her anymore?

Ragatha didn’t understand.

Linen and cotton—of all things to be made of, the Digital Circus was especially cruel for making her a ragdoll.

Chapter Text

When Ragatha turned to her left, she could overhear Gangle teaching Zooble how to draw. When she looked to her right, Jax and Pomni were sat there, teasing each other again. Her foot tapped the ground in agitation, only deepening her uncertainty.

This had been the usual routine for a few days now, but it was unbearable all the same. She didn’t know what was influencing her, but as of late, conversations had become increasingly difficult for her. Perhaps it was because she had become a reoccurring thought; a consequence of constantly wondering what mistakes she was making.

On the contrary, Ragatha had a right to ask questions. What was she doing wrong? Maybe she wasn’t giving enough? Whenever she got upset, Ragatha always caved to her demands. It was better that way. Nobody would fight back if she never retaliated, and she could remain… acceptable in their eyes.

Conceding made life all the more bearable, before the Digital Circus that is. It was easier to simply nod your head to people who were impossible to please—that’s what she learned after years of living in her previous home.

Nevertheless, she didn’t need convincing to know she had to try win them back. Helping her friends…? That was easy!

Her gaze drifted to Gangle, who was busy guiding Zooble through another art piece. Should she step in? No. Ragatha had embarrassed herself enough times when offering advice, and she would have hated her for messing up again. Zooble was capable on her own, anyway; they’d do fine without her. Shaking off the thought, she turned to face Pomni, who was stifling her laughter to something Jax had just said.

Ragatha bit back the urge to scowl at that.

Struggling at conversations wasn’t her only problem lately—she was getting easily frustrated. Zooble never wavered once when handling Jax’s attitude, but recently, Ragatha’s resolve had fallen off a cliff! It reached the point where Pomni was intervening multiple times a day, attempting to keep everybody at bay. With each argument, Ragatha would imagine the stress she was putting Pomni through. The guilt followed soon afterwards.

…It wasn’t her fault that Jax had become that much harder to deal with. On a usual day, he’d spend hours making it abundantly clear how close Pomni had become. Ragatha knew it was an attempt to tick her off, and yet her reaction only got more visceral with time. Zooble, (even Kinger as of late) had noticed the sharp shift in mood. She was afraid of what they thought of her.

She was just… worried for Pomni is all. Having seen how cynicism had spread to her loved ones, she couldn’t just sit back and watch! But she was failing her. They wouldn’t meet eyes. Ragatha sank into the sofa, defeated. As per usual, the principal question returned: What was she doing wrong?

“Awww, what’s got dollface in a mess?” She heard Jax’s sing-song voice from across. “What d’ya say, Pomni? Now we’re best friends, we should totally cheer her up, right?”

Scathing words rose to her lips, but stayed there. No. She couldn’t. She couldn’t make Pomni upset again. Quelling her anger, Ragatha returned back into her headspace. Whatever the root of her problems was, she had to solve it quickly…

Because little by little, she was losing everybody around her.

Ragatha was terrified.

…

It happened instantly. As she lingered onwards, memories of the restaurant began flooding back. In mere seconds, she remembered everything—the sauce getting into her eyes, the sluggishness of her body, the slew of customers.

Ragatha froze up instantly. Her words. When Jax first brought it up, Ragatha refused to believe she’d say anything of the sort. It was so far removed, so repulsive that it was safer accepting if it never existed. But there she was, staring directly at Zooble and Jax as she said those words. It was there. Right in the forefront of her memory--

Gangle.

Ragatha remained in place, utterly mortified, as the expression on Gangle’s mask played itself over and over again in her mind. It wasn’t a sad look. Not even angry. Just... small . Shrinking, as if all hope had flickered away. A wave of nausea quickly ran down her body, and she could feel a metaphorical heart fall into the pit of her stomach. She recognised that look.

Because she would wear it all the time. Dinner tables. Car rides. Behind locked doors. She hadn’t always yelled at her. Sometimes, she would talk in this certain way, this dismissive and pessimistic tone, which made Ragatha feel like she was being erased word by word.

Somehow, that pained expression had returned in her life, but it wasn’t Ragatha who made that face. Somehow, those hurtful words had come from her lips. How? How could she say such a horrible thing?

Then it hit her. A dreadful wave of realisation ripped through her very being, coursing up her body and tearing through the mental seams which held her in place.

At long last, Ragatha understood.

In her desperate attempt to drive out every trace of negativity, she had rooted that very likeness into her own core. In rejecting everything she once was, Ragatha had unknowingly carved space for the very person she swore never to become. Her.

She existed inside her, buried deep in the fabric of her soul, waiting for her lowest to emerge.

Ragatha was devastated; all the years spent desperately trying to outrun her past had amounted to nothing. The fragile, hopeless vow she made as a child with little to live for had been broken from the very start—now she knew there was some truth in her words.

She will always fall short on anything she tried. She wouldn’t succeed in anything.

…

So… why… did she exist?

Ragatha felt disgusting—no, she was digusting. With revolting eyes, she dragged her gaze towards where the others were, laughing away in easy conversation. Why was she here? Any lingering doubt of calling Gangle and Zooble those awful things had dissipated. Those were her words. Nobody else but hers.

And how could she hate Jax, knowing they were wounds carved by the same hand? They had both hammered pieces of themselves into silence, seeking refuge in differing ways, but neither had escaped. The worst of their pasts were forever etched into them, destined to never change.

Ragatha tried as she might to calm down. She paused and focused on her panicked breaths. She couldn’t be seen like this. But it was no use. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak.

There was no escaping this place, and there was no escaping her .

“Ragatha? Are you okay?” Zooble reached out a hand, but Ragatha immediately recoiled away, taking a dozen steps away for good measure. Even if there were words in her mouth, Ragatha didn’t have the strength to say them. The flimsy excuse of palms buried deep into her face, and she cowered in place as she pulled; an instinctual attempt to tear herself apart.

Beyond all the ringing in her ears, Ragatha could hear the sharp cries of her ‘friends’ that followed, their frantic attempts to calm her down. Nothing could possible stop her now. She no longer knew who or what Ragatha was anymore. All she knew was her, because that was who she was.

Ragatha’s vision blurred despite her lack of tears, until only a mass of vibrant colours surrounded her, slowly melting together. With little effort, she pushed everybody away, forcing distance between them.

Her very existence was unraveling. Everything she had fought for had been for nothing.

The suppressed packs and packs of cotton stuffed down her neck had vanished in her anguish, and with two trembling hands, she seized the locks of her hair. Right then and there, Ragatha had lost all semblance of herself. Nothing remained but a red canvas in her vision—and with that, Ragatha does the only manageable thing left to do.

The fountain of emotions finally broke. Flowers, blistering yet beautiful burst through the careful visages that had once kept her sane. Ragatha doesn’t remember how long she screamed, only the way their faces morphed through emotions. Shock. Hurt. Distress. Fear. Fear. Fear.

…

…

…

Through eyes that never learnt how to cry, she finally met Pomni’s gaze. However hideous she had become in this moment, that single glance meant the entire world to Ragatha.

It wasn’t the expression on her face that struck her first. Instead, it was the reflection of Pomni’s eyes, which had always been so bright. Within them, shining back to her, was someone familiar. Someone she knew.

Her.

And Ragatha never saw again.

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He didn’t mean for that. He only wanted that mask of hers to break. Now she was gone as well.