Work Text:
Pomni sat hunched over her laptop at the table, one hand tangled in her hair. The screen cast a pale glow across her tired face. Lines of unfinished work filled the page.
Her leg bounced under the chair.
She’d been staring at the same paragraph for ten minutes.
From the couch, Jax watched her with the exhausted curiosity of someone who was avoiding his own mind.
One leg hung off the armrest, the other stretched across the cushions like he paid for it.
He tossed a small rubber ball against the wall lazily.
Thump.
Catch.
Thump.
Catch.
Pomni’s shoulders tightened.
The ball hit the wall again.
“What?” Jax said, voice dripping with amusement. “Am I bothering you?”
Pomni didn’t respond.
Thump.
Catch.
Jax leaned his head back against the couch, watching her.
“What are you even working on?” he asked.
No answer.
Pomni’s fingers moved again, typing quickly now, like if she focused hard enough she could pretend he wasn’t there.
Jax tossed the ball again.
Thump.
Catch.
“Let me guess,” he continued, stretching the words out. “Accounting for that psychology firm again? How ironic.”
Pomni exhaled through her nose, slow and controlled, eyes fixed on the screen.
Still nothing.
Jax tilted his head.
Thump.
Catch.
The sound bounced around the room again.
Pomni reached for her headphones beside the laptop and slid them over her ears.
Jax raised an eyebrow.
“Awww she's getting angwy, is it bed time?”
Jax watched her for a second, then he stood up.
The couch cushions creaked under his weight as he crossed the room.
Pomni felt him there before she saw him, looming beside the table.
He leaned forward just enough to look at her screen.
“I’m working.”
He reached out and flicked one of the loose papers on the table.
It slid slightly out of place.
Pomni moved it back.
“Don’t touch my stuff.”
Jax grinned.
“Chill out.”
He flicked another page.
Pomni shoved her chair back a few inches so he couldn’t reach the table as easily.
Jax didn’t move away.
Instead he leaned one hand on the back of her chair, boxing her in while he studied her screen with exaggerated interest.
Pomni’s jaw tightened.
“God,” Jax leaned back casually, “do you ever not act miserable?”
Pomni’s fingers froze above the keyboard.
Normally she’d roll her eyes, throw something sarcastic back, maybe tell him to shut up and keep working.
Her chair scraped sharply against the floor as she turned around.
“Do you ever stop acting like a jerk for five seconds?”
The ball slipped from Jax’s fingers and rolled across the table.
For a split second, he looked surprised.
Then the grin returned sharply.
“Oh, wow,” he said slowly. “Someone's touchy today, that time of the month?"
Pomni pushed herself to her feet.
“Maybe if you weren’t constantly poking at people—”
“Relax,” Jax cut in with a lazy shrug. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
Pomni laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“You're literally not. You’re just being annoying.”
“Aw,” Jax said, tilting his head. “Did the truth hurt your wittle feewings?”
Her jaw clenched.
“You know what?” she snapped. “Maybe everyone would be less miserable if you actually cared about anything.”
For a moment the apartment went quiet except for the distant sound of traffic outside.
Jax didn’t move.
Then he barked out a short laugh.
“Wow!" he said.
He leaned back against the couch arm like he’d just been handed proof of something.
“Guess you finally figured me out.”
Pomni crossed her arms, glaring at him.
“You’re right,” Jax went on, voice bright with mock enthusiasm. “I should totally start caring about things. Sounds fun.”
Pomni didn’t say anything.
He stood up abruptly, grabbing the ball off the table.
“Anyway,” he added casually, “have fun being miserable, or whatever.”
He brushed past her toward the hallway before she could say anything else.
At the corner, Gangle had just stepped out of the kitchen holding a mug.
Jax clipped her shoulder as he passed and the mug rattled in her hands.
“O-oh—” Gangle started.
But he didn’t stop.
His bedroom door slammed shut a second later, the sound echoing down the hallway.
The apartment fell quiet again.
Pomni stood beside the table, the glow of her laptop still lighting the scattered papers.
Pomni sat at the table with a bowl of cereal, absently tapping her spoon against the edge. The laptop from the night before was closed now, pushed far away from her.
She actually felt okay.
A good night's sleep helped a lot.
Her shoulders weren’t tight anymore, her head wasn’t pounding from staring at a screen, and the heavy knot of frustration from the argument had mostly burned off overnight.
Across the kitchen, Ragatha stood at the stove flipping something in a pan while humming under her breath.
Pomni watched Ganglr scoop another bite of cereal as last night replayed briefly in her head.
She exhaled slowly.
Maybe she had snapped harder than necessary.
Not that he didn’t deserve it.
Pomni stared at the milk swirling in her bowl.
Maybe she’d talk to him today, just to clear the air.
Behind her, Zooble spoke skeptically.
“Has anyone seen Jax this morning?”
Ragatha shook her head while setting a plate of eggs onto the counter.
“Nope! I knocked earlier but he didn’t answer.”
Zooble frowned slightly.
“That’s weird.”
Pomni glanced over.
“…He’s still in his room?”
Pomni stirred her cereal slowly.
That was weird.
Jax was the kind of person who made a point of being loud the moment he woke up.
Pomni opened her mouth to say something, then the bedroom door suddenly creaked open.
All three of them looked up.
Jax stepped into the hallway.
His hair was a complete mess, sticking up unevenly like he’d rolled around in bed all night. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the whites of them were faintly red.
But the moment he noticed everyone looking, his usual grin snapped into place like a mask.
“Well look at that,” he said brightly, stretching his arms over his head. “The breakfast club.”
Ragatha perked up immediately.
“Jax! Perfect timing, I just made eggs—”
He walked straight past the kitchen.
Pomni’s eyes followed him automatically and for a split second his gaze landed on her.
The grin disappeared.
His eyes slid away instantly.
Jax reached the fruit bowl on the counter, grabbed a banana, and turned toward the door.
“Wait!” Ragatha called. “You should eat something first—”
The front door opened then it shut before Ragatha could finish.
Zooble raised an eyebrow. “He looked like garbage.”
Ragatha sighed, setting a plate down at the table.
Pomni's gaze lingered at the door.
Later that afternoon, Pomni caught him halfway down the hallway just as he was heading toward his room.
“Jax.”
He kept walking without even slowing his pace, his steps casual and unbothered as if he hadn’t heard her at all.
She moved quickly and stepped directly in front of him, blocking the narrow hallway so he couldn’t just pass by like she wasn’t there.
“Hey. I’m talking to you.”
Jax paused just long enough to lift his head and look at her properly.
"Jax!"
The same grin as always sat on his face, stretched a little too tightly.
“Congrats,” he said lightly, like the entire situation was nothing more than a mildly amusing inconvenience. “You learned my name.”
Pomni folded her arms across her chest, refusing to move out of the way.
“About yesterday—”
Before she could finish the sentence, he casually stepped to the side, slipping past her like she was just another piece of furniture in the hallway.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not what—”
His bedroom door shut before she finished speaking, the latch clicking into place with a dull final sound that cut her off completely.
That evening, when the apartment had settled into its usual relaxed rhythm and the smell of dinner drifted lazily through the rooms, Ragatha walked down the hallway carrying a plate balanced carefully in her hands before stopping outside Jax’s door.
She knocked twice, cheerful but not too loud.
“Hey! Dinner’s ready!”
No response came from inside the room.
She waited a moment, then knocked again, this time a little softer.
“Jax?”
From the couch in the living room, Zooble didn’t even look up from their phone.
“Don't worry, he’s alive,” they said flatly, their voice completely unconcerned. “I heard him pacing earlier.”
Ragatha lingered by the door for a second longer, uncertain.
The next morning, when the apartment was still quiet and the sunlight had only just started spilling through the kitchen windows, Pomni walked into the kitchen and nearly ran straight into Gangle.
Gangle stood near the counter holding a small plate of toast with both hands.
“…Um,” she said quietly after a second of hesitation. “Do you think Jax is okay?”
Pomni frowned slightly.
“Why?”
Gangle glanced nervously toward the hallway before lifting the plate a little higher.
“I let him know I left this outside his door last night…”
She tilted the plate so Pomni could see it properly.
The toast was untouched.
Later that afternoon, Pomni passed his door on the way to the bathroom, walking down the hallway without really thinking about it until something made her slow down.
She stopped.
There was a small trash bag sitting on the floor just outside his door.
Inside were two banana peels.
She knocked.
“Jax.”
Silence answered her.
“Look,” she said through the door, her voice quieter now but still edged with impatience. “If you’re still mad, fine. But we should just—”
The floor creaked faintly from somewhere inside the room.
He was there.
Pomni stood still and waited, staring at the closed door.
Nothing happened.
She exhaled slowly through her nose. “…Okay, cool. Real mature, Jax.”
No answer came from the other side.
She turned and walked away down the hallway.
By the third day, a strange routine had started to form around Jax's new state.
Ragatha stood in front of the open fridge with a small frown on her face while looking over the shelves.
“Did someone eat the leftovers from yesterday?”
Zooble glanced over from where they were leaning against the counter.
“No.”
At the far end of the table, Kinger slowly lowered the newspaper he had been pretending to read, his eyes drifting briefly toward the hallway before returning to the page.
Ragatha blinked in confusion.
“But… Jax didn’t eat dinner.”
Zooble shrugged one shoulder lazily.
“He’ll eat when he’s hungry.”
Kinger folded the corner of his newspaper absentmindedly, glancing toward the hallway again as though expecting the door to open at any moment, though it never did.
Across the table, Pomni sat quietly with her hands resting near her bowl.
She didn’t say anything.
Kinger cleared his throat softly, the small sound almost lost in the stillness of the room, before returning his eyes to the paper.
The silence in the kitchen stretched just a little longer than usual.
That night the apartment was quiet in the slow, heavy way it often became after everyone had gone to their rooms.
Most of the lights were off.
The hallway lamp cast a soft yellow glow across the carpet and the row of closed doors.
Kinger stepped out of his room slowly, adjusting the sleeves of his robe as he looked down the hallway.
He stood there for a moment like he was thinking something over.
Then he walked toward Jax’s door.
His footsteps were careful, almost hesitant.
When he reached it, he lifted his hand and knocked gently.
Kinger stood there patiently, listening to the quiet behind the door as if he might catch some small movement on the other side.
After a moment he knocked again, a little louder this time.
Still nothing
Kinger lowered his hand slowly.
“…Ah,” he murmured to himself in realization.
He glanced down the hallway once, making sure no one else had wandered out, before looking back at the closed door.
“Well,” he said gently, voice calm and thoughtful. “I imagine you’re awake.”
Kinger rested one hand lightly against the wall beside the door.
“When someone isolates themselves, most people assume they simply want to be left alone.”
Kinger’s gaze drifted toward the floor.
“But sometimes that’s not quite true.”
He adjusted the edge of his sleeve again. “It's alright, sometimes it’s difficult to walk back out.”
The hallway light hummed faintly overhead.
Kinger looked at the door again, expression thoughtful.
"I try not to assume too much about people.”
Another pause passed.
“But you do seem rather tired lately.”
A faint, distant car passed outside somewhere beyond the apartment walls.
Kinger folded his hands loosely in front of him.
“Well, if you need someone to sit quietly in the same room.. I've heard I’m quite good at that.”
He gave a small, absent nod to the door and stepped back from the wall.
“Good night, Jax.”
The door never opened.
Inside his room, Jax lay on his back staring at the ceiling.
Kinger’s voice kept replaying in the quiet.
Sometimes that’s not quite true.
The room around him was dim, lit only by the faint streetlight leaking through the blinds. Clothes were scattered across the floor where he’d kicked them aside days ago.
The trash can had been filled and emptied twice with nothing but fruit peels and crumpled wrappers.
He hadn’t really noticed the mess until now.
He shifted slightly under the blanket draped over his shoulders.
School break had started two days ago. Normally he would have been the loudest person in the apartment by now.
Instead he’d stayed in here.
He rubbed a hand down his face.
His stomach ached faintly from not eating enough, but the thought of walking into the kitchen made his chest tighten.
Stupid human body. At least in the circus he could hide away as long as he wanted the only thing to watch out for being abstraction.
Pomni’s face flashed briefly in his mind.
Maybe everyone would be less miserable if you actually cared about anything.
Jax turned his head toward the wall.
He thought about Gangle’s startled voice when he’d bumped into her.
They’d been getting along lately, too.
He groaned quietly and rolled onto his side.
His habits were starting to feel a little less funny when he looked at them from this angle.
Jax pushed himself upright slowly.
The blanket slipped off one shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed.
For a long moment he just sat there staring at the floor.
Then he sighed.
“…Alright.”
His voice sounded rough from disuse.
He stood and pulled the blanket around himself again like a cloak, gripping it tightly at the front.
His heart was already beating faster.
Just walk out.
Walk out and grab something to eat.
The doorknob felt cold under his sweaty palm.
He hated how real it felt.
Jax squeezed his eyes shut.
Then he turned it and pulled the door open.
The door moved an inch and something knockdd firmly straight into his chest twice.
Jax’s eyes flew open.
Pomni stood directly in front of him with her eyes squeezed shut, one hand raised mid-knock.
She had clearly expected the door to still be closed.
Both of them froze.
For a long moment they just stared at each other in the dim hallway light.
Jax blinked.
“…Oh.”
Pomni lowered her hand slowly.
“…Oh.”
It was two in the morning.
The apartment was silent behind them.
Pomni glanced down the hallway briefly, then back at him.
The blanket around his shoulders made him look vaguely like someone who had just crawled out of a cave.
Her eyes flicked over his messy hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the blanket, the way he was gripping it tightly with one hand.
The realization on her face was subtle but immediate.
“…You look like garbage,” she said.
Jax snorted quietly. “Gee, thanks.”
Neither of them moved.
Then Pomni crossed her arms.
“So.”
Jax leaned against the doorframe, still clutching the blanket.
“So.”
They looked at each other.
Neither one seemed particularly eager to start.
Finally Pomni sighed and rubbed her face.
“We’re doing this.”
“Looks like it.”
Pomni glanced past him into the dark room behind him.
It was… worse than she expected.
She looked back at him.
“…Have you eaten anything besides bananas.”
Jax hesitated.
“…Maybe.”
“…That means no.”
He shrugged weakly.
Pomni exhaled slowly through her nose.
“Are you coming out here,” she asked, “or were you planning to hibernate forever?”
Jax glanced behind him into the room.
“…I was actually about to try the whole ‘facing my problems’ thing.”
Pomni raised an eyebrow.
“That would be a first.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, “don’t make it weird.”
Pomni leaned lightly against the opposite wall.
“Too late.”
Kinger stepped quietly out of his room, already dressed in his usual jogging clothes.
He adjusted the sleeves of his light jacket and stretched his shoulders carefully, trying not to make too much noise as he prepared to head out.
His routine rarely changed. A jog at three in the morning meant empty sidewalks, cool air, and a still fresh mind.
He padded down the hallway toward the living room.
As he stepped into the open space, his eyes drifted automatically toward the couch.
He paused.
There was a blanket lump there.
Kinger tilted his head slightly.
The blanket had clearly been pulled around someone rather than thrown over the furniture.
Kinger leaned forward just enough to peer over the back of the couch.
Jax lay curled on his side beneath the blanket, one arm tucked loosely under his head like a makeshift pillow.
His hair stuck up in uneven directions, worse than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were still visible even in the dim light.
Up close, Kinger noticed something else.
His cheeks looked a little sunken.
The result of a few days of barely eating, though Jax himself likely hadn’t noticed.
Kinger’s gaze shifted slightly.
Pomni sat beside him, slumped against the couch cushion.
At some point during the night she must have dozed off. Her head had tipped sideways, resting awkwardly against the back of the couch while one arm hung loosely across the cushion.
For a moment Kinger simply stood there.
The quiet between the two of them told him enough.
Whatever conversation had happened during the night had likely been long.
He allowed himself a small, thoughtful smile.
“Well,” he murmured softly to no one in particular. “I hope that went well.”
Jax shifted faintly in his sleep, brow tightening for a second before relaxing again.
Kinger reached out and gently rested his hand on top of Jax’s head.
He gave a light, careful rub through the messy hair.
“Try to eat something today." he added under his breath, though he didn’t expect the boy to hear him.
Pomni stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
"I'm heading out now, get some rest you two."