Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was mazelike. Alive with reflections. Corridors that twisted endlessly, light fractured into shards across walls of glass. It must have been hours, but Pomni could recall what Caine had said.

---

“Welcome, my dear digital darlings!” Caine’s voice boomed, echoing in no clear direction. His body flickered overhead like an overexcited lantern, arms stretching unnaturally as he hovered over them. “Today’s adventure: Escape the Mirror Maze!” He spread his hands wide, light sparking in his palms like stage fireworks.

Caine giggled loudly, twirling in the air. It was a good day for Caine for some reason, which didn't mean he would go easy on them necessarily “First one to reach the middle wins! Oh, but don’t let that fool you—every good maze has a secret prize, doesn’t it? A surprise! A twist!” He clutched his sides with manic laughter, ballooning with energy he couldn’t seem to burn off.

Bubble slithered closer, whispering with acid softness: “They’ll beg for an exit long before they find it. That’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

Caine waved a dismissive hand, still grinning too brightly. “Oh, Bubble, you’ll spoil the mystery! Let them find out for themselves.”

And with that, the group walked already dreading what was to come.

---

Pomni walked cautiously, her shoes clicking faintly on floors that weren’t really there. Time had already dissolved into nothingness. No cheerful clock, no smiling sun or winking moon trading places above them for her to tell not even slightly if time had passed or not. Just her own stubby figure multiplied again and again.

Had I already turned here? Her reflection stared back at her from every angle, each one too identical, too insistent. She felt the edges of her memories fray. This repetition was tiring.

At first, she followed a pattern: if the mirror didn’t reflect her, it was a passage. She slipped through those gaps like she was peeling layers off the maze. That worked… until she reached something else.

The sign above flickered faintly, letters crawling into shape.

CHAMBER OF ECHOES.

Was that the mystery Caine was on about? The name sat heavy in her chest. Echoes of what? Sound? Sight? Herself? She hesitated, then stepped through.

The room was different. Wider. Oppressive. The mirrors were taller, their glass slick and polished like carnival attractions. At first, it seemed harmless—funhouse distortions.

The first warped her into a stretched, clumsy giant. A sign at the bottom read:
HUMONGOUS.
The second crushed her into a squat, round figure: STUMPY.

As she pressed on, the mirrors got stranger. A ballooned head that wobbled as she moved. A taffy-long neck that swayed unnaturally. Feet stretched flat and wide like clown shoes. Each distortion more grotesque than the last.

She almost laughed. Almost.

Then she froze.

Her breath hitched as the reflection shifted.
Her memories of before the circus had always been foggy, frayed, like they belonged to someone else entirely. All she really knew was what it meant to be this cartoonish jester. But what did it mean to have a normal body?
That was what she thought when she saw it.
Was that… her?

A woman

Taller by maybe twenty centimeters. Short hair—like hers, but not hers. A fuller figure. Brown eyes. Human.

Pomni’s chest tightened. It was wrong. Alien. Like something she was not supposed to see. Panic shot through her veins, phantom lungs clawing for air that wasn’t there. She stumbled back, the edges of her world darkening as she bolted running deeper and deeper and—

“Huh. Well, don’t you look like you’re having a grand ol’ meltdown, pipsqueak.”

The voice cut through her spiral. Mocking. Snarky. Familiar.

Jax.

Purple fur flickered through the mirrors as he sauntered into view, his lanky body bending with that cartoonish, exaggerated ease. His grin stretched too wide, teeth gleaming sharp-yellow in the fractured reflections.

“What—did a mirror monster jump out and spook ya?” He chuckled, leaning lazily against one of the panes as if it were a casual stroll and not a trap designed to unravel them.

“I… I don’t know.” Pomni’s voice trembled. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The image she’d seen slipped from her grasp like sand through fingers, leaving only the heavy certainty that forgetting it was safer. “I think I saw—something. It’s weird. I don’t—” But she couldn't find the words to describe… what exactly?

Jax opened his mouth, ready to throw another jab—“Pfft, and here I thought I was the only one who looked good in these digital mirrors. Bet Zooble—”

But the words cut off.

His body stiffened. His eyes locked onto something behind her. The grin collapsed.

“What the—” His voice cracked as he glanced from her to the mirror and back again. His ears twitched, his face contorting into something Pomni had never seen on him before: was it sorrow?

She turned her back into the mirror for the first time. Nothing, just her and her lost colored eyes, not even something that could cause her fear, she couldn't understand.

And his expression changed immediately “Why do you look like…” His voice fell to a rasp, shaking, his usual bravado gone. His eyes glistened as his long bunny ears straightened down cauthiously “Y-our cheeks wha-” He turned his head as if doing so would help him understand something in the reflection that looking it straight couldn't.

Pomni blinked, confused. Why isn’t he laughing? Jax always laughed. Always twisted fear into mockery, tragedy into punchlines, annoyance into violence. But not now. This was different. This was creepy. Uncharacteristic.

Then he crumpled. The lanky figure dropped to his knees, shoulders shaking, his eyes darting from the reflection to her, his eyes starting to weep. The mask—his permanent snark, his cartoonish cruelty—was gone. This was raw. Broken. Human.

This was something that caused a weird emotion in Pomni’s mind, something she still couldn’t as well comprehend.

“Whats wrong? what did you see?” — He didn’t answer, he was paralyzed.

Pomni turned back to the mirror again, this time desperate to see what had shattered him. What was this glass title anyways? What could possibly be all of this about?And she found it, at the bottom of the frame, faint letters glimmered:

INNER BELIEF.

She cursed internally, why does all of these titles sounded like riddles? Before she could make sense of it, the maze dissolved around them. The adventure was over—the familiar pull of an adventure ending.

---

“Congratulations, Kinger! You found the way out! You’re the king of the maze!” Caine’s voice rang out in grand celebration, fireworks popping overhead as he spun gleefully in the air. “Ohhh, I simply adored your faces when the mirrors showed their little secrets! Priceless! Nothing like a glimpse of the self you wish you didn’t have!”

Bubble hummed slyly at his side: “Yes… their distress, their confusion. Sweet little cracks in their minds. I’ll replay them later.”

Caine barked laughter, twirling again. “Oh, Bubble, you do say the silliest things!”

No one else laughed.

Exhaustion clung to the group as they trudged back toward their rooms. Gangle sobbed softly as Ragatha and her walked away, Kinger muttered to himself entering his fort and Zooble cursed under their breath. Too long. Too heavy. Too confusing.

Her head hurt.

Pomni slipped into step away from them, eyes lowered. And in the corner of her vision—Jax. Still watching her, his wide eyes filled with something raw, unsettled, painful. No comments again, non reaction.

She turned from it, wordless, and walked into her room.

Whatever that had been—whatever it meant—she wasn’t ready to face it. Not right now, Jax would have to wait.

—
It was night. Or at least, the time when the circus world dimmed, and the others retreated into their rooms to do whatever it was they did when the stage lights went dark.
Pomni couldn’t sleep.
Hours had passed since the mirror maze ordeal, but the unease clung to her like static, refusing to fade. Her head no longer throbbed, though maybe that was thanks to the quiet darkness. She thought that stepping outside—well, outside of the tent, at least—might calm her nerves. Maybe the illusion of fresh air and starlight would feel close enough to real nature to trick her body into rest before Caine’s next shenanigan.
She wore the pajama version of her usual jester outfit: an oversized gray shirt, faded and worn, with the print of a little bell on the chest; mismatched shorts, half-blue, half-red; soft slippers that scuffed against the ground; and, still, her gloves—though she had left the jester cap behind.
She didn’t know if the others had their own renditions, but was glad that once she recoiled for the night she could at least find some comfort in what she was supposed to wear.
The door creaked faintly as she slipped out, shutting behind her with a dull click. The hall stretched long and hollow, every sound echoing sharper than it should have. She found herself instinctively walking softer, as if she were trespassing in someone else’s silence.
Her thoughts spiraled back to the maze.
She had seen Jax break. For a moment, his mask of comedy had slipped—and that rattled her far more than the distorted mirrors. Had that been real?Was Jax showing real emotions?
Her mind whispered no almost immediately, like it wanted to shield her from the thought. Everyone had been shaken after hours trapped with grotesque reflections, so maybe she was just inventing meaning where there was none. Still… that look in his eyes lingered.
She didn’t want to admit it, but she had been thinking of him. Not in the way he’d ever want, she was sure. Was it empathy? No, not quite. Concern? Close, but not the whole truth. Pity? She hated the word, but it tugged at her anyway. Something else wrapped around all of it, nameless and heavy.
Pomni never denied her feelings to her or if anyone asked her—not anymore. She wasn’t a teenager clumsily pretending to know herself. But that didn’t mean she always recognized or liked what she was feeling. Sometimes, like now, it was just a tangled knot in her chest.
She was still sunk deep in thought when movement flickered at the edge of her vision.
A door. Closing. The light escaping the downside of the door. Someone was there.
But that was not one of the usual doors belonging to the circus characters—it was different. Wrong. The sprite looked faded, left behind, as if it was outdated, like it hadn’t been touched in years. A red cross had been slashed across the face. She froze.
It wasn’t a human face. It was… cartoonish. A frog. Round, charismatic eyes, a permanent wide smile fading into paint. But even through the wear, it looked almost joyful.
Her breath caught.
“Y-your cheeks wha—”
The fragment of a memory slipped into her mind uninvited.
Red cheeks. Just like hers. Painted bright on their faces.
Pomni stumbled back, pressing a gloved hand to her own cheek. She didn’t know who they were. She didn’t know if they had been real. But she was certain of one thing—
They had something to do with Jax.
And with why he had broken down.

Chapter Text

It was weird. Pomni wanted to know what that was about—the mirror thing, the cheeks, why Jax of all people would sneak into that abandoned room.

The next day she decided to confront him.

But as simple as that sounded, Jax was evasive.

At first, she couldn’t even find him. Maybe he was locked in his room, or in that frog-like character’s room, or wandering into some other random door in the circus she hadn’t discovered yet. Then, when all the characters lined up before Caine—who, as usual, was planning a new adventure as if the previous one hadn’t already drained them—Jax was there. But instead of his usual snark, silence clung to him like a mask.

Caine’s words washed over her, vague and restless—something between instructions and a meltdown. She barely registered it. The rabbit still grinned, still wore his mischievous façade, but his only interactions were the glances he kept throwing her way. And that was beginning to gnaw at her.

She wanted to know the root of the baggage Jax was piling onto her.

It ate up so much space in her mind that every thought was crowded out by anxious static. Soon she realized she hadn’t even listened to the setup of the adventure.

And she was screwed.

The regret hit instantly when she saw snow. Everywhere. Endless mountains of it.

And cold.

Pomni never thought of herself as someone who got cold easily—if anything, she used to think of herself as someone who ran hot. Pun not intended.

But now, dressed in a frosted version of her jester attire—a cap lined with fabric, mismatched pants, boots, and a blue coat—she trembled in the open white wasteland. The only thing she could see was a tiny cabin in the distance, nestled between two mountains.

Did Caine mention shelter? She couldn’t piece it together.

Maybe the adventure was survival. Maybe the point was enduring extreme weather. But the fact that she was alone, truly alone, unsettled her. What was with the host splitting them apart this time?

She trudged forward, eyes fixed on that distant brown speck against the infinite white. Surely the others had to be somewhere. The map couldn’t go on forever. Caine always complained about reusing assets and optimizing space—he wouldn’t make it infinite.
For a long time, the only sound she heard was her footsteps crunching against the cold, fluffy snow. She prayed it wasn’t too deep; she wasn’t tall, and sinking could be disastrous. Her fear of freezing was palpable. She could try running to the shelter, but the thought of collapsing into the snow and freezing solid haunted her every step.
The only other things in sight were the digital pine trees scattered around, imitating some kind of habitat—but lifeless, sterile. Useless. That same repetition again, walking, looking around, so tiring. Her head drifted back into a train of thoughts about Jax—until a cry for help cut through.

“P-Pomni?!” It was faint, nearly swallowed by the storm. “S-somebody! Please—!”

Her ears twitched. For a heartbeat too long she didn’t move, unsure if she’d imagined it. Then it came again, louder, edged with panic:

“Help!”

Pomni jolted forward. The realization hit her like ice: she had been standing still all this time, lost in her head, while Gangle was out there calling for her. Guilt coiled in her chest, sharp and suffocating.

She forced her frozen legs to move. Each step was slow, dragging, the wind clawing her back as if to hold her in place. The storm bit at her face, snow latching to her lashes, numbing her body until her feet barely felt real.

“P-Pomni! I—I can’t—!” Gangle’s voice cracked, then was snuffed out by the storm.

Pomni’s heart hammered. She should have answered sooner. Now every second stretched heavy, soaked in guilt.

“Hold on!” she shouted, though the words vanished in the wind.

She stumbled forward through the blur of white, breath tearing ragged clouds in the freezing air. And then—there. A shape low in the snow.

Blinking against the frost, Pomni reached it, and her stomach dropped. Gangle lay half-buried, porcelain mask cracked, ribbons stiff with ice where they whipped in the gale.

“I—I thought—no one—” Gangle’s voice shook as much as her fragile body.

Pomni dropped to her knees, snow soaking through instantly. “I’m here. I found you.” Her teeth chattered, but she forced the words out steady. She brushed snow from Gangle’s ribbons, trying to free her from the frost’s grip.

The storm shrieked louder, as if mocking them.

“T-thank you!” Gangle gasped. Her fur coat sagged heavy with snow. “My ribbon body wasn’t made for this…”

“We have to make it to that cabin.” Pomni pointed ahead.

“Oh finally!” Gangle bolted upright with sudden, manic joy. “Caine wasn’t tricking us then—there really is shelter!”

Before Pomni could warn her, or even ask her about what exactly had Caine said, Gangle rushed down the path without worrying if she . Pomni stumbled after her until they reached the cabin, breath ragged and limbs trembling.

At the door, Gangle froze, her mask tilting back toward Pomni, fearful. Warm air seeped out from the cracks, carrying orange light. Footsteps creaked inside.

Pomni thought that encountering whoever was behind that door had to be better than freezing. She shoved the door open.

A figure stood by the small iron fireplace. Ears drooped behind his head, coral snow coat over his overalls, ear warmers snug against the cold. The firelight lit him in flickering orange.

Pomni’s chest jolted with the same sensation she had the night before. She cursed herself immediately.

Jax.

He was playing with the fire poker, lost in thought—until the cold from the open door caught his attention. Slowly, his gaze shifted back to them.
The mask slipped on in real time, grin stretching, eyes too wide. “‘S’up losers? Freezing your butts off?” He set the poker aside. “Should I let you in?”

“I-I don’t think this is a competition, surely we are su—” Gangle started, but Jax’s glare shut her down instantly.
Pomni said nothing, rolling her eyes and moving closer to the fire, warming her mismatched wet gloves against the flames and taking her soaked boots off. Jax shifted uncomfortably at her presence.
The cabin was small but cozy—old walls lined with hunting trinkets, a threadbare rug before the fireplace, mismatched chairs pulled close. There were only two rooms: the living room and a kitchen that was like a narrow alcove with shelves sagging under chipped pots and dented kettles.
The encounter stretched too long, as if it wasn’t meant to be, no one said anything and the awkwardness grew too big. Jax didn’t looked like he actually were to kick them out on the cold anyways, so Pomni closed the open door prompting herself in.
“I can cook if you like! Maybe soup or something!” Gangle offered brightly, her voice too high with nerves, like she was trying too much to break the ice. Without waiting, she scuttled into the kitchen, ribbons sliding against the wooden floor. Pots scraped faintly as her voice drifted back.
Jax ignored her, visibly annoyed for reasons she couldn’t place. He didn’t pick a fight or torment Gangle further, though—just walked away and sat cross-legged on the floor near the fireplace, withdrawing into the glow.
Even for someone who was trying to keep a mask up, Jax was acting weird. Pomni didn't feel like he was about to act serious or stop dropping jokes, but surely he was looking uncharacteristic. His gaze connected with hers, she didn't drop hers.

The silence left behind was heavy.

Jax sprawled on the sofa near the fire, casual in posture but restless in every shift of his limbs. His grin felt like armor.“Did you lose something, pretty face?” he said suddenly, voice teasing.

Pretty face?

Pomni blinked. Pretty face? The heck?

“What did you just call me?” Pomni wasn’t sure if she heard it right.

Jax’s grin faltered. He barked a laugh, nervously. “Sheesh, circus freak, get a mirror. That was obviously a joke.” He looked away, but Pomni swore she caught something like embarrassment flickering across his face.

“I don’t understand you, Jax.”

“Find me someone who does,” he said sharply. Silence pressed in again.

Pomni hugged her knees, letting the fire warm her. But the question clawed its way out anyway. “You’ve been acting weird. Since the mirror thing.”

Jax’s grin tilted back into place, slick and evasive. “Weird’s my specialty.” he ignored her mentions about the mirror thing.

The fire popped, a spark leaping. Then came the metallic clatter of pots from the kitchen. Gangle’s voice again, breaking whatever fragile thread had hung between them.

Jax rolled his eyes. “Hot water with sadness. Can’t wait.”

The air between them sagged. Pomni tugged her gloves tighter, wishing Gangle would stay quiet for once. It wasn’t her fault, not really, but her anxious clattering made every word harder to say, as if the walls of the cabin had ears. Pomni tried anyway. “You—you don’t have to joke about everything, you know.”
Jax tilted his head, expression unreadable in the firelight. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” He waved a lazy hand, dismissive, but the pause stretched too long. He didn’t look at her when he added, whispering “Quit looking at me like I am some type of weird wounded endangered animal.”
Pomni’s throat tightened. “Well…” but she couldn’t find the words exactly, lost in the same memories about the mirror adventure “Not a wounded endangered animal, maybe more like a friend in need” He finally glanced back, eyes sharp, anxious, scanning her face for something she wasn’t sure she even had. The moment stretched—until another pot clanged in the kitchen, and Gangle cursed softly under her breath. Both of them looked away at the same time, the spell broken. The conversation fizzled. Words felt too heavy now, too dangerous with another pair of ears just a wall away. Instead, silence pressed in again, thick but not suffocating. The fire crackled, filling the gap where speech couldn’t.
Eventually Pomni edged toward the hearth, knees brushing Jax’s. He didn’t move. Didn’t joke. Just leaned back, the grin softening into something less performative.
Pomni rested her chin on her knees, the storm still howling outside. But for the first time since stepping into the snow, she didn’t feel completely alone.

Chapter Text

The cold didn’t bother her anymore. Surely her room wasn’t better than that old cabin they’d been stuck in, but it was hers. Pillows piled, blankets heavy, a space to bury herself and fake sleep until dreamS, digital hallucinations, as they called them, would creep in. Even false sleep was better than none; at least it tricked them into feeling human again, something the circus worked so hard to strip away.

Most of Caine’s adventures blurred together. This icy one would, too. But she remembered the cold biting her bones, the soup Gangle tried to boil, the cabin’s creaking wood. And most of all, she remembered finding herself next to JaX, his presence a strange anchor, enough to let her close her eyes until it was all over.

She felt that same pull now.

At the time, she had wanted to talk, to push him into telling her what was happening beneath that mask. But Jax only ever spoke when he wanted to. To pry would be to push him further away. If this conversation was meant to happen, it had to come from him.

And yet—seconds stretched, long and restless. Her chest grew tight with the thought she wouldn’t admit even to herself: she needed to see him.
Before she could second-guess it, Pomni slipped out from under the covers. Her slippers pressed against the fake carpet, her gloved hand hovered at the doorknob. Only then did it hit her, what was she doing? Going to Jax’s door in her sleepwear, in the middle of the night, for answers he had already refused her?
But maybe this time would be different.
Maybe alone, he wouldn’t hide.
She never got the chance to test that thought.
Three knocks.
Sharp. Anxious.
She opened the door without hesitation.

The corridor lights spilled in harsh neon, stinging her eyes. But the silhouette was unmistakable. Purple fur. Drooped shoulders. A tired gaze that didn’t suit him at all.
For a few heartbeats, neither spoke. Maybe both were waiting for the other to break first. But the silence said enough, they wanted the same thing.
Pomni stepped to the side, Jax silently walked in her room. They'd both agreed silently they had to see each other. In private.

Relief warmed her, though she could see the tension still knotted in him. Jax didn’t like needing anyone. Didn’t like giving anyone reasons. She wasn’t the exception.
She climbed back onto her bed, hair messy, blanket wrapped tight, and met the purple rabbit’s stare without flinching.
“Why do you look so bad?” The question slipped out flat, not quite demanding an answer.
Jax exhaled hard, like bracing himself. “Why do you care?”
Pomni’s brow arched. No, he wasn’t going to hide behind that. Not here.
“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have let you in. So, if you’re staying, answer me.”
For a second, she surprised herself. Alone like this, her voice carried weight she never managed in daylight.
Jax’s ears twitched. His gaze faltered. “Oh, wow, no need to be dramatic, pipsqueak.” He looked away.
“Drop the mask.” She ordered, he looked at her.

Something in her tone made him glance back. And just like before, she saw it, his real face. Empty of jokes, stripped of that crooked grin. A hollow expression that left her chest aching. She wanted, so badly, to reach out and pull him close.
But she didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Pomni blinked.
“I can’t take this anymore.” His hands covered his face.

“You can’t take what exactly?” she asked softly.
“This hellscape.” His words came broken, like glass underfoot. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, okay? You were losing it too that day, weren’t you? Can you even explain it?”

Pomni dropped her eyes. He was right, she couldn’t.
“So you don’t remember either,” she murmured.
“None of us do.” His voice dragged with exhaustion. “I even went after Caine about it. Got nothing.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t answer.”
Jax shook his head. “No. But-”

His stare drifted, pupils wide, thoughts spinning so fast she almost swore she saw herself reflected in them.
“Are you okay?” The words escaped before she could stop them, her steps bringing her closer.
“Of course I am,” he shot back too fast, too sharp. “It’s me, Jax, the bunny! Always fine, always cracking jokes.” He laughed, brittle as ice.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what? Relax, clowney.”
“There’s no one around. You don’t have to perform loke we’re in some kind of circus.”
His ears twitched. He stood, sudden, towering enough that for a flicker of a second Pomni thought she’d pushed too far. That he might lash out.
But his laugh was hollow. “But we are in a circus. And I know who I have to be. I know who I can’t be.” His voice cracked on the last words. He turned away, shoulders tense. “I can’t face what this place does. Not to all of us. Not to me.”
When he looked back at her, something in him had broken open.
And Pomni had no defense against the weight of it.

“That’s why you lash out?” Pomni concluded “do you understand that everyone here goes through the same hellscape? you-

Pomni interrupted herself, Jax had gone still, his hands clenched in his lap, ears rigid like he was holding himself together by threads. The grin twitched, faltered, returned, like a glitch stuttering on a loop.
“You don’t get it,” he said finally, voice low, cracking. “You think I’m like this because I want to be? Because I like tearing everyone down? No. No. It’s survival.” He spat the word like poison. “If I don’t laugh first, if I don’t bite first, then I’m the joke. And I can’t-” He broke off, pressing a hand hard over his face. “I can’t do that again.” His eyes glistened.
Pomni leaned forward slightly, heart pounding. “Again…?”
He looked at her then, and the mask slipped. Not gone—shattered. His eyes were raw, too wide, almost scary looking. He laughed, short and hysterical, then shoved his fist into his mouth like he could choke the sound back.
“I had someone once.” The words tumbled out, fast, messy, like he hated himself for saying them. “He was- he mattered. More than anything here, more than anyone. And I let this place take him. I let it happen.” His voice broke, jagged as glass. “Do you understand what it’s like to watch someone you care about disappear and know it’s your fault? To know you weren’t enough to stop it?”
Pomni froze. Her throat burned with questions, but she couldn’t force any out.
“I wear the mask,” Jax hissed, yanking at his own cheeks as if to hold it on. “I smile, I play the bastard, because if I stop, if I let you see what’s underneath, you’ll see how pathetic I am. How weak. And then you’ll go too. Everyone does.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. For the first time, Pomni saw him not as the cruel trickster, not as the thorn in her side, but as someone drowning in grief so deep it hollowed him out.
She wanted to reach for him. To tell him he was wrong. But she couldn’t even breathe.
And Jax… Jax looked at her like he already regretted every word.
“…Forget I said anything,” he muttered, voice raw. “Better for both of us.”

Pomni’s gloves twisted in her lap. She couldn’t think of the right words, no clever reply, no comforting phrase that would make the weight on Jax’s shoulders lighter. Everything in her chest screamed at once: fear, pity, anger at this cruel world, and something else, sharper, nameless.
He sat there, trembling, hiding behind the heel of his palm. His ears drooped like they carried stones. The bare light caught on the wet shimmer at the corner of his eyes before he could wipe it away.

He was cying
Pomni’s breath hitched. That tiny, broken detail snapped something in her.
Slowly, she walked into his direction. The floor was cold under her feet, but she didn’t care. Jax tensed as soon as he noticed her moving, his body coiling like a trap ready to spring.
“Don’t,” he muttered, harsh, the word cracking. “Don’t you dare.”
She didn’t stop.
She crouched beside him, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body. His eyes darted away, jaw locked tight, like if he looked at her for too long he’d collapse completely.
Pomni hesitated, her hand hovering, trembling just inches from his arm. And then, with a breath that felt like stepping off a cliff, she touched him.
At first, Jax flinched. His whole frame jerked, like her hand burned. But when she didn’t let go, when she stayed steady, something in him gave.
Pomni shifted closer, wrapping both arms around him in a clumsy, stubborn hug. She buried her face against his shoulder, not caring about his stiff overalls or the way his body was rigid under her.
For a long, agonizing moment, he didn’t move.
Then slowly, reluctantly, almost in defeat, Jax exhaled a shuddering breath. His gloves clutched the back of her shirt like he hated himself for needing it, but couldn’t stop.
The mask was gone. There was no grin, no joke, no sharp retort. Just a boy who had lost too much, shaking in her arms.
Pomni held him tighter. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.
And for the first time, Jax didn’t push her away.