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Sealed off in his box, Jax slammed his head into a mattress that bounced with the smallest friction. Consequently, gravity tugged the rest of his body downward. His knees pressed against the floor while his face remained obscured in patterned pastel sheets. If it weren’t for the fact he unscrewed all the light bulbs in his room, he would have risked eyestrain from shoving himself face-first into its tacky patterning.
Even with the laws of physics temporarily being in motion, it did naught to soothe Jax. He kept himself hidden away in the duvet, only lifting his eyes marginally enough to meet his array of photographs on the wall. They detailed the positive aspects of Caine’s adventures, respite in purgatory. Several were with two people he deemed “friends,” their smiles embedded onto film.
Film of which he was the sole survivor.
It started with Ribbit in an abstraction that happened so quickly Jax hadn’t even had time to say goodbye. Next was Kaufmo. He was able to see the warning signs this time but wallowed in denial until he saw the physical evidence of his decline. If it wasn’t for how he was nearly sucked whole into him, he would have chalked it all up as a dream. Both bodies, mutilated and enlarged, impossibly dark yet shining bright, were unrecognizable. It doesn’t help that their new forms were nearly identical. If they stood next to each other, they would probably mesh into each other like storm clouds.
The funeral happened earlier that day after a series of delays. Zooble was outside his room in the morning.
“Hey, uh…” they said, “we’re going down to commemorate him today.”
Silence. The door knob remained still.
“Go if you feel like it.”
Like with Ribbit’s, this would remain a funeral unattended. The weight in Jax’s legs rendered him into humiliating positions: sprawled onto the floor, curled up, kneeling. He allowed himself to be anchored again. He was able to pass his unresponsiveness off as simply being asleep.
He was able to go about the day’s adventure as normal, if not a little more uptight than usual. Right after it finished, he retreated back to his room to continue his self-pitying. As his eyelids drooped and a familiar rustling hummed behind the walls, another knock came, muffling it.
“Jax?”
Ragatha was on the other end.
“Jax, I…”
The knob rustled the smallest bit. Her hand laid still atop it.
“I’m here if you need anything. You didn’t show up this time, either. N-not saying you have to, of course! It’s just, this has all been hard for everyone, so I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.”
Jax stuck to his paralysis. Ragatha decided to leave it at that. She muttered a soft “please” before disappearing.
It was funny, really, that despite how many losses he had been subjected to, he never cried. His grieving was subtle to the outside eye, juxtaposing the demobilizing agony that rocked his core. It held his brain hostage, threatening to claim him completely if his tongue slipped and he begged to be free from its grasps.
The rustling from before didn’t return. The hole in the wall was as vacant as ever.
People do very stupid things when depressed and under the influence of solitude. This would be one of those.
Jax gave it a few minutes before pulling out the bucket of keys he had stashed under his bed. He eyeballed the ones at the top and settled on picking a rose gold one. His arms and legs marched on forward with the numbness of a soldier headed to the battlefield. Even his mind in its hazy, mushy state was able to mock him for the show of vulnerability soon to come. Each step was heavy as his feet walked away from the spot he was chained to. As a result of staying off his legs all day and mental state, his posture was worse than usual.
He sighed and his shoulders drooped. The key was inserted into the hole and turned slowly, feeling heavier than how it really was. When the door creaked open, Ragatha was already staring at him.
“Come in.” She scooted over in bed.
Jax walked in and closed the door behind him. He remained mute and stood still, as if he was still waiting for permission to enter. Ragatha, who had been expecting him to take a seat, gazed down at her shoes awkwardly.
“Um,” she started, “I’m glad you decided to come here. Well, not glad, because, you know, aha…it’s just…it’s been a while.”
The corners of Jax’s frown deepened.
“Y-you know, you can sit wherever! You’re always welcome here.”
Jax dropped down and folded his arms around his knees. He tilted his head to look at Ragatha. She picked up a pillow from her bed and laid it down next to him. When her arms wrapped around his waist, his entire body tensed further. He scrambled out of her hands and stumbled enough to end up on the other side of the room. When she gave him a pitying look, he grit his teeth.
“Sorry!” She picked up the pillow and tossed it back. “It’s just—I want you to be comfortable-”
“There’s no need to coddle me.”
Ragatha held her hands together nervously. “It’s not like I’m trying to offend you or anything. We haven’t spoken one-on-one, at least not like this, in who knows how long, I…” she had begun fidgeting with her hands, “if there’s anything I can do at all to help you, let me know! You deserve someone to listen to you, Jax, really-”
“Are you done yet?”
“Huh?”
He made himself at home on her mattress. “You say the same old sh-” BONK! “-to everyone else everyday. How do I know you’re not actually an NPC Caine sent to ‘whip me into shape’?” A line that would usually be delivered with wit was humorless and dry.
Ragatha’s mouth instantly flew open, but she closed it shut. She thought of what to say for a few seconds, finally asking, “why did you come here?”
“Kicking me out already, huh.” He cracked a smile.
“I’m seriously asking,” she all but exclaimed, “you don’t want to be spoken to, you don’t want to be touched, you don’t even really like me, and you…come here? Why?”
The desperation on her face made Jax hunch his shoulders. “I don’t know,” was whispered quietly enough for Ragatha to convince herself she imagined him saying it.
“What, do you just want to sit in silence, or something?” Her voice faltered as the sentence kept going.
No response.
In a way, this was better than actually talking, Ragatha figured. What if she said the wrong thing again, and Jax snapped at her? What if she accidentally said something so terrible—whatever that’d mean to Jax, anyway—and he decided to never speak to her again, not even in passing jest? She’s already halfway there, she assumes, as Jax would rather keep his mouth shut than admit the obvious thing on his mind.
It made her wonder, why was it that her words failed her when she needed them? How many times had she failed to say something whenever she was actually needed, permitted, to speak? She was hardly able to give the obituary at the funeral without choking up and breaking down. No one had held it against her, but she held it against herself.
Ragatha held the tears she didn’t realize were running down her face in fat globs against herself.
“Sorry,” she wiped them off with her wrist, “s-sorry, God, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.” In the corner of her eye, she could see Jax glaring at her with knit eyebrows.
When she fully turned around and sniffled, Jax’s expression went blank once more. “You’re so bad at lying.”
“Well…well, so are you-”
She slapped her hand against her mouth.
Jax chuckled under his breath. “You’re such a hypocrite.” When she didn’t respond and her lip quivered again, he added, “and you don’t even care.”
“So that’s what you came here for? Just to tell me this?”
“I’m just bein’ honest,” he crossed his arms behind his head and fell back first into the mattress. The sardonic way he carried his sentences returned. “You think you can solve everyone else’s problems, but look at you. You can’t even help yourself!” He laughed louder, “can you name one person you’ve actually helped during your time here?”
“At least I’m trying!” She blurted.
Before Ragatha had time to regret what she said, Jax spat, “and how’s that working out for you? I’m still waiting on that answer too, y’know,” he dragged out the last syllable. Since he didn’t get a response quick enough, he added, “tell me, how’d the funeral go?” He looked daggers into her, awaiting another outburst.
He received no such satisfaction. Instead, Ragatha flattened and folded up on herself. “It was…nice. I’m not surprised you didn’t go, but it was nice. Even Pomni said a little something, and she didn’t know him. Gangle showed off a drawing she-”
She yelped when a series of pillows struck her in the face. She didn’t have to glimpse at Jax to know what kind of face he was making. Still, Ragatha kept smiling. “It was really sweet. It probably would’ve done wonders to you if you heard all of it. Even if you’ll never say your piece, I’m definitely sure it’s meaningful.”
“God, do you ever shut up?” Jax dropped his head and sneered. “Can you take a hint?!” When she remained calm, he grew angrier. “So maybe I ‘didn’t do enough’, so what? You think saying a few words when he’s not even around to hear it is going to change anything?”
Ragatha tilted her head in bewilderment. She knew better than to question everything he said, though. “It’s better than saying nothing at all.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I…” admittedly, her own words there caught her off guard. “I do.”
“Sure you do. Tell you what, I’m feeling better already.”
He got up to leave and was promptly stopped by a hand wrapped around his wrist. His pupils turned to pinpricks.
Ragatha gulped. It seemed her throat and body was determined to betray her that day. “Please. Don’t go, yet…” Each word was slow and spaced out as if they were each their own individual sentence.
“Why should I do anything you want? What, you’re going to snap your fingers and freeze me in place ‘cause I think you’re full of it?” Ironically, he had stopped walking and tilted himself around so they could meet face-to-face.
“I just…can’t stand seeing you alone, I guess. Even if…” She bit down to keep her thoughts in order. Even if you’re an asshole. Even if you push everyone away. Even if you kinda, sorta, do this to yourself.
“Wow. I was thinking I’d finally get it out of you today.”
“Get what out?”
He smiled. “That I totally deserve it.”
“I never thought that for a second,” she retorted immediately. “No one deserves that.”
“Especially me?”
“E-especially you.”
Jax scowled. “What a revelation. How flattering to know you haven’t given up on me.”
“It’s…” Ragatha ghosted a hand over his other wrist, “I’m happy you came. Even if you’re still being a jerk. I…”
Jax’s breathing trembled as he watched her hand raise and land on his cheek.
“I’m sorry. For f-”
Jax snapped away from her caress, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When Ragatha was about to start calling for him, he lunged at her. His arms went under her shoulders and wrapped around the air behind the small of her back. His head hung above her shoulder, ears drooping down to cover his face.
Odd, sure. But Ragatha began to understand what he wanted. Her hand floated over the top of his head and swished over the top of his head. It was enough for him to feel his hairs rustle due to air resistance, but not enough for it to make direct contact with her soft palm. The warmth radiating off each other’s bodies was a taunt. For anyone honest with themselves, it would be to crash into each other and feel and connect. It’s harder when one is desperate for anything but, and the other is trying to wrangle them to do so.
What they were allowed to do is a mockery of sincerity. Their heart-to-heart will always be neck-deep in denial. It was most fitting for a place where they were robbed of any speech and movements that’d get them in trouble if they were being broadcast to live television. Their almighty postmodern God would know all the ways they’ve tried to circumvent the limits, find joy in their neon childproofed prison. They were phantoms of people they were forced to forget.
This was close enough to animosity to leave them in a more comfortable silence. They pretended that this was enough to feed their starved-beyond-repair hearts.
Thank you, Ragatha mouthed.
Jax’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Slowly, their arms fell back to rest at their sides. He turned around as quickly as possible and walked out the room. The door slammed behind him.
Ragatha was left in a familiar solitude.
–
When she opened her door the next day, she was greeted with an array of bowling pins crashing onto her. After the first bounced off her skull, she took to her instincts and covered her head. It did little to shield the rest of the onslaught. They were suspended in the air by a net that snapped open once the tripwire right outside her doorway was activated.
“Agh! Jax!” She whipped her head around instinctively, looking for him. There was no one to be seen except for Pomni, who was leaving her own room. It was routine to be pushed around by him, but this was a rather early start. She grunted in dismay and headed for the lobby.
Jax, as usual, stood by himself, an outsider to the awkward small talk everyone else subjected themselves to. When Ragatha called his name, he whipped his head up. His signature coy grin was back in place.
“Oh, Rags!” He folded his arms. “You enjoy the present I left?”
“It’s way too early to be dealing with this,” she squealed, “and I thought-”
No. She would be a fool to believe Jax would ease up on her for at least a few hours, especially considering she was subjected to his fragility.
“Getting cold feet? You’re getting stale, you know that?”
Ragatha turned on her heel and walked away. What could one do in a mindset like hers? Nothing, that’s what she could do. At least there was the guarantee that today would fit into the mold of the other days.
She froze in place when she looked behind her and saw Jax walking toward Pomni. She buried herself inside the newly forming pit inside her stomach.
Have mercy on her digital self.