Chapter Text
Oh, how nice it is to actually feel the sunshine.
Every now and then, a small humming melody comes from Ragatha’s lips, knees curled to her chest on a towel that she’d usually be sprawled out on, basking in the sun. In fact, she was sprawled out on it a mere few hours ago, sun on her skin, sand warm beneath her feet, water lapping in its familiar looping rhythm.
Yeah, how nice it would be to actually feel the sunshine.
The sky above the circus glows in an artificial, slightly grainy way that it always does when the circus is meant to feel calm again, when they can catch a quick afternoon of respite after one of Caine’s crazy adventures.
Pomni stands a few steps away, arms folded tight across her chest, staring out at the water like she expects it to change if she watches long enough. Her eyes flick toward the path that leads back to the tents, then away again. Gangle sits somewhere between the shoreline and where the water actually starts to surround her. Sketchbook balanced where her thighs would be, she moves her pencil fast enough that the sound draws Ragatha’s attention, and it’s a gnawing in the back of her brain. She hasn’t looked up once. Zooble lingers near the shade, arms crossed, jaw set, gaze fixed somewhere just past Gangle’s shoulder. They haven’t talked since Caine disappeared, it concerns Ragatha. Kinger sits near the sandcastle that they had built together, muttering to himself, watching as the shoreline licks at one piece of their crumbling wall at a time, becoming confused every time a part of his structure is destroyed over and over and over again. And Jax—
Ragatha doesn’t even look at him.
God, she can’t even breathe.
And yet it doesn’t look the way it’s supposed to, nothing feels the way it’s supposed to, nothing feels like anything at all, and that’s the worst part. No, something deep inside of her knows that this kind of hopeless feeling would come one day, that there has always been so much hope built up inside of her that it would be sinful to let it out and realize that it simply isn’t worth it. Something terrible could happen. Something terrible has already happened, and that’s the worst part. No, that would be normal. She had expected this. That enough would happen, that someone would come along, that an answer would be handed to them just to be stripped away before their eyes, and then she’d just feel. But, this is the worst part.
She doesn’t feel anything at all.
What’s the use? No matter what she thinks, she feels she might as well hope the audience or her boss or her friends or some strangers watching would feel the exact same way because after days and months and weeks and years of feeling… nothing has become real. So is it even real at all? Has it ever been real? Will it ever be real— well, now she knows the answer to that, doesn’t she?
No, no. Ragatha draws in a slow breath through her nose, then lets it out just as carefully, like she’s afraid the wrong rhythm might crack something open.
She should really say something.
That’s always been her job, hasn’t it? To fill the silence before it turns sharp. To smooth edges before anyone cuts themselves. To find the right tone, the right words, the right angle that makes everything feel survivable again.
Her mouth opens.
Nothing comes out at all.
She swallows and tries again, forcing a smile she can’t quite feel settle into place.
“Hey,” she says finally, too soft, the word barely carrying. “Um… maybe we could--“
Her voice falters.
She hasn’t planned past that, and it’s like the weight of everyone’s stares finally feels like something. She hasn’t a clue what they could do. Talk? Laugh? Pretend? None of it feels real enough to hold together.
The quiet presses in harder, like it’s listening.
Ragatha’s fingers curl tighter into the towel. Her throat feels thick, like there’s something lodged there that won’t move no matter how hard she swallows. She tries again, a little louder this time. “We could maybe… sit closer? Or— or do something together? Just for a bit.”
The words sound thin even to her own ears.
Pomni glances up, eyes flicking toward Ragatha with something like relief, then immediately away again. Gangle’s pencil slows, but doesn’t stop. Zooble shifts their weight, jaw tightening, gaze still fixed elsewhere.
Raggy feels it then, not a sharp pain, not even panic, but something heavier, colder. A creeping sense that she’s pushing against a wall that won’t move. That whatever glue used to hold them together has finally lost its grip.
She lets out a small, unsteady breath. “I just… we can’t let it be—“ She stops herself, throat tightening. “hopeless.”
The word hangs there, fragile.
Zooble doesn’t answer right away; their jaw tightens. “Let’s just go back. It’s not like Caine’s gonna rear his ugly head again after the stunt he pulled.”
The words feel flimsy in the air, Gangle looks up from her sketchbook for the first time since they got here. She glances toward the path again, then shakes her head slightly. “I-I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t think that’s… a good idea.”
Pomni nods almost immediately, casting a glance at where Ragatha had figured that Jax was and quickly lets it trail back to Zooble. “Yeah, I feel like if we split up it’ll just… get worse.”
Zooble huffs softly, their left leg squeaking as they walk toward the general crowd, opting to stand under Ragatha’s umbrella despite Gangle patting the ground next to her. “I mean, what’s the point?
And that makes everyone still a little. Ragatha’s shoulders raise ever so slightly, which she didn’t think was possible due to how tense she already is. She’s been waiting for the right words to put it, waiting for a chance to put it lightly, but what else is there to say? That’s the question: what’s the point of anything at all?
Their arms tighten across their chest as they finally look at Gangle, eyes flicking between her notebook, the sand beneath her, the tide coming in and out, it doesn’t really settle anywhere. “We keep doing this, getting our hopes up, thinking it’s different, and then it’s not. We come back to the circus like usual, same place, same rules, same ending, so what’s waiting for Caine to talk to us gonna do, give us an answer we like?” A pause, their jaw clenches, eyes narrowing at no one in particular. “That’s what I thought. Maybe it’s better to just… go back to our rooms. Plus I don’t know how much longer I can watch... that one mope around.”
The words land harder than they probably mean to. Ragatha flinches just a little, watching Gangle’s ceramic face completely fall back to her sketchbook, hand trembling ever so lightly as she fails to find something to distract herself.
To avoid watching poor Gangle fall apart before her, Ragatha drags her line of sight to where she thought Jax had been this whole time, and yet there’s a heavy absence. She narrows her eyes, letting her hands fall to either side as she searches for him.
Searches, why does she even care where he is? He made the decision for all of them. If he had the chance, he’d condemn each and every one of them to an eternity of jests and cartoonish colors just for his enjoyment. If the roles were reversed, she’d be lucky if he even noticed she was there.
That thought lingers longer than she expects it to, longer than she wants it to. The last thing she wants to think about at this moment is what Jax could be thinking. She knows whatever explanation she comes up with in her head will never measure up to any justifiable excuse that she wants to hear.
Ragatha swallows and looks away from the empty space once again, her heart thudding a little too loud in her chest. As she sits, lies back on the towel, and, finally, is when she lets her shoulders relax. The sun should be artificially warm, slightly grounding, something she can focus on other than the twisting knot behind her ribs or images of red and blue buttons.
Except—
The light disappears. A shadow falls over her face, sudden and solid. She blinks, confused, and tilts her head slightly. Jax is standing closer now, close enough that he blocks the sun completely. His silhouette cuts across her vision. He isn’t looming on purpose. If anything, he looks like he’s stopped mid-step, caught between where he was and where he’s meant to be. His gaze isn’t on her, though; it’s angled past her, toward Zooble.
“You really think I wanna do this any more than you do?” he says flatly, answering something Ragatha barely registered. His voice is low, stripped of its usual sharpness. There’s no bite to it at all, no teasing, no joke at anyone else’s expense. Usually, she’d be elated to hear it.
Now, it just startles her.
Her body reacts before her brain catches up. She flinches, covering her view with her hand as if he were a bright flashlight shining in her eyes. Her free hand grips the tower she’s sat on. The movement is small, almost embarrassed, but it’s immediate.
Jax notices, of course, he does.
His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing as his gaze finally lands on her like an afterthought. He takes a half-step back at once, as if realizing how close he’d gotten only after the fact. His shoulders pull in slightly, like he’s trying to make himself smaller without drawing attention to it.
For half a second, neither of them speaks.
Ragatha’s breath comes a little too fast. “Jax—”
“Relax,” he says quickly, without looking away from Zooble. “I’m not doing anything.”
His voice is steady, but his shoulders are tight, jaw clenched like he’s holding something back.
Zooble scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Jax doesn’t turn his head, still standing over Ragatha like it’s her fault. “You’re really gonna keep going, huh?”
“Oh, don’t act surprised,” Zooble snaps. “You don’t get to check out now like you always do. Not after the stunt that you pulled.”
Ragatha props herself up on her elbows, still watching him warily. He hasn’t moved any closer, but he hasn’t stepped back either. One of his feet drags back and forth through the sand methodically, like he can’t stop himself.
“I didn’t pull a stunt,” Jax mutters. “I— look, it’s not like it mattered anyway. We went on a wild goose chase. I pushed a random button. Surprise! It was an adventure. Big whoop.”
Zooble lets out a sharp laugh. “Yeah? And that’s supposed to make it better? You really think I’m gonna believe that you really thought it was all an adventure from beginning to end?”
Jax’s fingers curl at his side. Uncurl. Curl again.
Ragatha sees it: the way his ears twitch, the way his weight shifts forward without him meaning to. She’s seen this version of him before, right before a snap, right before a joke turns mean.
She opens her mouth, and so does Jax.
“What else would it be?” Jax breathes out, quieter now. “Buttons, doors, fake stakes, big dramatic build-ups. Caine keeps getting smarter, so that’s the pattern, we all know that.”
Another sigh from Zooble, “So that’s your excuse?"
“You think I’m here to give excuses?” Jax snaps, “The stakes that you’re so worried about aren’t real. They never were! It was a basket of soap or a trip to— what— Shrimp Town, right? You’re acting like I kicked your puppy, for God’s sake, nothing here is real! Not the danger, not the choices, nothing! I pushed the button because if I didn’t, you’d all tear yourselves apart over it!”
There’s a pause. His voice drops, just a little.
“And now it’s over, like it always is.”
Zooble steps closer, eyes narrowing, a tilt in their head causing their words to come out just a bit sharper than anyone expected. “Is that why you were shaking?”
Jax stiffens, for a fraction of a second, his mask slips, just enough for Ragatha to see it. His jaw locks, breathing catching, barely audible. His hand twitches at his side before he forces it still.
Zooble doesn’t miss it, of course they don’t.
That tiny hitch in his breath, the way his shoulders lock, the way his eyes flick away just a fraction too late.
“Oh,” they recognize quietly. “So that was what that was.”
Jax’s jaw tightens. “Just— drop it.”
Zooble doesn’t. They tilt their head, studying him with something cold and almost curious. “You were shaking, Jax. Back there. Hands, voice, all of it! You looked like you were about to crawl out of your own skin!”
His fingers curl again, harder this time.
“So what?” he mutters. “So was everyone else. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Doesn’t it?” Zooble presses. “Because you’re acting real confident for someone who looked like he was one bad second away from losing it.”
Ragatha’s chest tightens.
“Hey—“ she starts instinctively.
Zooble cuts a glance at her but doesn’t stop. “What, you’re not gonna say anything now? No jokes?”
Jax throws his arms up for a second, casting a glance at Pomni, then Gangle, then winces after landing on Ragatha, as if he were trying to avoid her the whole time. “Right, ‘cuz you really sound like you wanna hear it.”
“Oh, right. You only perform when it’s convenient, when there’s a button to press or a choice to hijack.”
His ears twitch again— sharp, involuntary.
“And what if it was real?” Zooble continues, voice sharpening. “Huh? What if it actually mattered this time? What if it wasn;t a fakeout or a punchline or whatever you say you knew it would be? Gonna make the call again? Should we all drown ourselves in the lake? Or lock ourselves in our rooms and rot away? You seem pretty familiar with that last one.”
Ragatha sees it instantly, a final hitch in Jax’s breath, a lurch forward, his gaze drops further as he avoids looking anywhere but at Zooble. It’s all too subtle but she’s known him long enough.
Too long.
“Hey, hey, hey--“ she blurts, standing up before fully realizing she’s moving. “That’s not—“
Her voice cracks slightly, louder than she meant it to be.
Everyone turns toward her.
Zooble blinks. “What?”
Ragatha swallows hard, heart pounding. She hadn’t planned what to say, only that she needed to stop that, needed to cut the line before it dug any deeper.
“I just—” she starts, then falters. Her hands lift uselessly, fingers curling. “I don’t think yelling at each other is helping. And I don’t think going back to our rooms is, either. We— we just need to… pause. Or do something else. Together. Something small. We shouldn't be mad at each other, no matter how selfish their actions...” she cast a small glance at Jax before breathing out a small breath through her nose. "this is Caine's fault, regardless of how we feel... right?"
She winces inwardly. That sounds too much like a plea.
But she keeps going anyway.
“Just— not this. Not right now.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then, faintly:
“Ooooh,” Bubble’s voice drifts in from somewhere behind them, curious and bright. “A together activity?”
Everyone freezes.
Ragatha’s stomach drops.
Bubble bobs into view, eyes sparkling with immediate enthusiasm. “You mean like… a game? Or a quest? Or— oh! Oh! A bonding exercise!”
“No—” Ragatha starts.
Bubble gasps. “An adventure!”
“Oh no,” Zooble mutters.
Bubble sticks his tongue out, delighted. “Perfect! You all look extremely in need of a narrative redirection!”
Ragatha’s heart sinks straight through her stomach.
“Wait,” she says quickly. “That’s not what I meant—”
But the air is already humming. The sand begins to tremble. The light around them warps, colors stretching thin, the world pulling inward like a breath being drawn too deep.
Bubble beams. “Adventure time!”
The ground tilts.
Wind rushes past.
Ragatha reaches instinctively for the nearest hand; she doesn’t even realize whose, as the beach dissolves into light.
And then—
The adventure does not arrive gently.