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“So…I know who I’d wanna do it with, but who would you wanna get with, you pervert?”
Pomni stares, slack-jawed, wondering if she’d heard that right.
She shakes her head, hoping to wake up from the new nightmare her brain had conjured up to torture itself, but nothing happens. It's moments like these where she dreadfully misses the human world. You know—where one could get arrested for asking inappropriate questions in public, in the middle of the day. And rightfully so.
Her first thought is: this is all Zooble’s fault. Though it certainly didn’t start that way. According to them, the talk was long overdue. Even years before Pomni’s arrival, when Kaufmo and a bunch of other people she didn't know were alive, it was a common request. Only that nobody dared to ask in public.
The sex update, as Jax had so delicately put it, was supposedly about restoring part of the human experience. A glorified way of saying everyone was tired of the endless, fake cartoon reality where nothing hurt, nothing aged, and nothing felt. No hunger, no pain, no exhaustion, and definitely no pleasure. Apparently, when you’ve been trapped for years inside a place where the laws of biology don’t apply, your priorities start to change from asking how to get out, and start wondering how to make the cage a little more tolerable instead. Which somehow only makes the entire conversation very fucking sad.
Either way, she’s not getting out of this one.
“I’m not sure,” Pomni finally answers. “I guess I’ve never thought about it before?”
Jax rolls his eyes, looking completely indifferent to the mini panic attack she just experienced. “Boring,” he sing-songs. “C’mon! It’s a simple question. I won't tell you mine if you won’t tell me yours.”
“She’s still in denial. Leave her alone.” Zooble cuts in from the other side of the room.
Next to them is Gangle, who gives Pomni a lopsided smile and a small wave as they walk over the couch. She’s been getting more confident these days with Zooble’s help. Even daring to take a seat closer than five feet away from Jax at the risk of getting bullied for the entirety of their adventure-free day.
“It’s embarrassing for me too, Pomni. Don’t worry.” She says.
That's the understatement of the century. For Pomni, it’s more than embarrassing. As a human, she’d only had this type of conversation once or twice, mostly during visits to the doctor. Her family wasn’t exactly big on emotional vulnerability, and topics like romance or intimacy were quietly swept under the rug. And truthfully, she’d never really done much of anything, either—That’s just what happens when you’re too busy focusing on your career to pursue a love interest (or have an extremely avoidant personality).
In her defense, she’d never imagined she’d end up trapped in a digital world having to interact with the same five people for the rest of her life. She thought she’d have more time to figure things out and get it together. She was only twenty-five, after all.
Zooble’s expression softens. They put a reassuring hand on Pomni’s shoulder while scratching nervously at their neck with the other. It’s a bizarre sight, considering they’re wearing crab pincers today. “Gangle’s right. It’s okay if you’d rather not talk about it. But, you know, Caine did say it was happening.”
“The prude energy in here is killing me. We’re all fully grown adults!” Jax yells, stretching his legs out on the carpet. “What, nobody else’s curious about what kind of freaky parts we’ll get when the update drops?”
Ragatha, sitting cross-legged on the floor, finally sets down the rubix cube she’s been working on for half an hour with an irritated sigh.
“Could you not make everything sound so gross for five minutes?” she says flatly, not even looking up as she aligns the puzzle’s last color block.
Jax smirks. “Is that a challenge, doll?”
“Don’t call me that!”
Gangle timidly lowers her notebook just enough to peek out. “I’ve maybe thought about it a little,” she says, face glowing red. All eyes turn on her all at once. “We could get normal human bits, but I doubt it, since we don’t have any other organs. Mostly they'd be for decoration or enjoyment. There’s a chance we might get removable parts or ones that magically pop up on command too.”
Jax visibly struggles to contain his laughter, until he doesn’t. “Well, I guess now we know who’s gonna enjoy the update the most.”
Pomni stares at the ceiling while she tries very hard not to visualize what enjoying the update means for Gangle. She can’t wait for this leisure day to be over. It’s one thing to get harassed by Jax about her privacy, but it’s physically painful on a different level to have to be hassled about this by people she actually respects.
She feels Ragatha shift uncomfortably at her feet. Zooble once mentioned that their body starts to ache after too much running around, since their detachable limbs aren't exactly built to handle that kind of impact. Maybe Ragatha's plush body worked the same way. Then again, that probably wasn't it. Lately, Ragatha never seemed interested in sitting on the couch whenever Pomni was already there. Instead, she always ended up on the floor, leaving Pomni staring at the back of her head, her messy yarn curls, and the oversized lilac bow.
“Can we talk about something else? This is getting old.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cause no one would want to test it out with you. It’d be like sleeping with a brick.” Jax throws a crumpled paper ball from who-knows-where to Ragatha’s face. It misses by an inch.
She moves to stand up. Pomni makes some space for her by sliding closer to Jax, hoping Ragatha would fit comfortably between her and the armrest. If only she noticed. “I—how would you know!? I’m way older than you, remember? I’ve got years of experience.”
Zooble shares a nervous look with Gangle, but doesn’t add anything.
Sometimes Pomni thinks being the newbie at the digital circus has its perks. One being that nobody knows anything personal about her because she’s not yet desperate enough to overshare. The other being that most of her peers go easy on her, likely because they don’t want to make her abstract from overwhelming her too much.
However, she wishes she knew more about the others. It’s selfish, since she’s technically not giving them anything in return. But it’s frustrating to simply stand there like an idiot while they all share some unspoken, odd secret pact of trust. The only other person who isn’t a hundred percent included in it is Jax, but that’s mostly because he’s awful at keeping secrets that aren’t his. It’s how she found out about the update before Caine announced it, after all.
No matter how hard she tries, she can’t pry a single crumb of information of what the others’ life looked like before the circus, at least not from anyone who isn’t themselves. She couldn’t even ask Gangle what Zooble’s favorite colour is, because that was something that only Zooble could tell. Pomni supposes it’s an effective way to delay their inevitable descent into paranoia. To place at least that amount of trust in everyone.
Which is why this is the first time she’s hearing of Ragatha’s human age. A couple mental calculations tell her she couldn’t have been much older than Pomni, but she’s older than Jax, who’d once mentioned how he was tired of being surrounded by a bunch of seniors. And yet, Kinger’s the oldest of them all. Somehow, this information feels useful, though Pomni doesn’t know why.
“Don’t make me say it in front of the new stuff. We all know you’re so embarrassed about it that you wouldn’t even participate in the poll yesterday.”
Ragatha’s face flushes. “Didn’t think it was necessary for me to be there. You guys looked like you had it all under control.”
He continues. “Can’t believe you even told Caine you had the flu just so he wouldn’t teleport you there. Dang, why didn’t I think of that?”
Why didn’t Pomni think of that? The poll about the update had been absolutely painful to get through. In a way, the fact that it was all said in so many medical terms made it a hundred times worse.
Zooble walks over, points an accusatory finger at Jax. “At the rate you’re going, the only thing you’ll be trying out is the Gloink queen.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Ragatha goes quiet as Zooble guides her back down to her puzzle on the floor with a pat on the back. Something twists inside Pomni’s stomach at the sight of Ragatha’s cheerful self suddenly looking so shaken.
And she didn’t even notice the empty space next to Pomni.
She finally decides to speak up in an effort to change the subject. “Um, we should go look for Kinger. He might know more details about the update.”
Jax grumbles under his breath, but shuts his mouth and starts picking at some lint on the cushions anyway.
Pomni goes to bed that night with about a hundred thoughts running laps inside her head.
She rolls onto her back while hugging a pillow. The ceiling is the same old boring blue. It’s her bed that’s the problem—it’s all circus themed. Red, white and yellow stripes like she lives in a circus tent inside another circus tent. It makes it harder to fall asleep, like a constant reminder of the day that will come tomorrow, and then the day after that, for all eternity.
She tries doing that thing she used to do back as a human where she would close her eyes and try to recall old childhood memories. Except, it’s almost impossible to do that now because it’s as if someone has put an invisible barrier in her head that won’t allow her brain to work properly. Her clearest memory is about adopting her cat, Ravioli, on a rainy day after finding him perched on a tree outside her apartment. She hopes he’s alright.
After a while, her eyelids start growing heavy. That is, until three gentle taps on the door shake her awake again.
“Pomni, you up?”
She blinks at the dark before fumbling to open the door.
Ragatha stands under the artificial lights in a silky purple camisole with matching shorts. Her hair’s down too, loose curls falling over her shoulders like a wild lion’s mane. Much better than the stupid bow. Pomni’s gaze drops before she can stop it, following the suture lines down her plush legs before she forces her eyes back up.
“Sorry. It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I just—” Ragatha strains a smile. “—never mind. You were probably asleep. I’ll let you rest.”
“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep.” Pomni replies, reaching to grab Ragatha by the hand and gently pull her inside.
Ragatha nods, stepping in as Pomni closes the door behind her to allow them more privacy. It isn’t the first time Ragatha has come to visit her, but it has been a while since she’s dared to knock on Pomni’s door after the gloink incident. It’s only reasonable, considering Ragatha’s habit of taking the blame for things that aren’t really her fault.
They sit side by side on the edge of the bed. It’s cramped, so their shoulders are nearly touching. The dark makes it hard to see anything that isn’t her own gloved hands.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Ragatha says. “But I guess you probably already know that.”
Pomni assumed it, but she didn’t want to push. “Hey, I'm not exactly an open book either.”
“I know. Which is why I knew you wouldn’t ask me about it, so I wanted to come tell you myself, before you find out from anyone else.”
Pomni avoids mentioning how, despite Jax’s earlier threats, Pomni doesn’t think he was going to actually rat her out. He’s just mean like that. And enjoys teasing Ragatha the most despite how much he claims to hate her guts.
Ragatha steels herself before speaking. She has many nervous tics Pomni has noticed over time: She adjusts the hem of her dress, or in this case, her shorts; runs fingers through her hair; pulls at the loose yarn on her arm.
“Before joining the circus, I was engaged.”
“Oh.”
“It wasn’t really my choice,” she says. “It was arranged by our families. All I had to do was say yes, so I did.”
Pomni frowns. “Did you even like each other?”
“I didn’t not like him. He was okay. It was me who was the problem.”
Pomni’s sleep deprived brain struggles to form a proper response. She can’t see what expression she’s making right now, but if she had to guess she’d say utter disbelief and a hint of disappointment. It seems that she really was the only one in the circus with an uninteresting past. At least for her, getting stuck here had been a slight improvement from her dull life as a human.
Hesitant, she slides a hand on top of Ragatha’s in an attempt to comfort her, like she’s seen Zooble do before with Gangle. She has the other hand balled into a fist, wrinkling the covers.
“That’s a shocker.” She exhales a shaky laugh. “I always thought you must have a boyfriend waiting for you out there—just not a husband.”
“Technically, no. I broke things off with him right before I landed here.” Ragatha groans, flopping backwards onto the mattress.
Pomni follows suit. She lies hyper-aware of everything. Their fingers interlocked, how her legs are positioned, and the exact distance between their knees.
“That’s a relief.” She says. “I-I mean, only because you clearly didn’t want to be with him.”
Ragatha turns her head with a tired smile. “I couldn’t go through with it because he wanted to test our compatibility before the wedding. Which is totally reasonable, right? We’d only kissed twice at the engagement party and held hands strictly in public. There was never any sparks flying, no tingling sensation in your gut—mostly, I felt incredibly anxious around him.”
Pomni recalls experiencing a similar feeling when her friends would drag her on blind dates or college mixers. She never connected with anyone. All she could do was stare at her drink, wishing she’d stayed home, while the people around her fell in love as easily as breathing. She huffs at the unpleasant memories. At least in the circus, she doesn’t have to pretend to care about shallow things like that.
Ragatha readjusts her head on the pillow. “He planned a date at this beautiful hotel called Limerence. I really liked the smoked salmon. Oh, did you know they grill the meat for you at the table?”
“I’ve never been.” Pomni replies, giggling. “So I can’t say I did, no.”
“My bad.” Ragatha yelps, face glowing pink.
“What happened afterwards?”
“We got drunk…walked—no, more like wobbled to the room. It didn’t go too great after that.”
She goes quiet. Pomni turns on her side too. Partly because her neck is starting to hurt, and partly because she wants to look at Ragatha properly while they’re talking. It’s like one of those sleepover scenes from movies she’d watched growing up—the ones where girls stay up far too late sharing secrets in the dark, saying things they’d never admit during the day. She’d never actually had one herself.
“What about the room? Did he do something to you?”
“Nothing like that.” Ragatha’s face crinkles. “Well. Yes, like that. But he couldn’t even get my blouse off because I wouldn’t stop crying.”
Pomni’s eyes soften. She reaches for the stray curl that has slipped on Ragatha’s face, then quietly tucks it back to where it belongs behind the delicate curve of her nape. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Ragatha bats her away. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. I hope my mother didn’t try to kill him when she found out I ran away.”
Despite herself, Pomni giggles again. It’s so Ragatha to worry about the guy first instead of herself.
“She sounds terrifying.”
“Oh, she absolutely was.”
Ragatha stares up at the ceiling, expression distant. The yellow stars painted above them aren’t actually there, of course. Caine had only added them after Zooble made a comment on plain ceilings being depressing as hell. Somehow, fake stars weren’t much better.
“There’s something I don’t understand yet,” she begins carefully. “What does any of this have to do with the update?”
Ragatha covers her face with both hands. “I-I just told you. I’ve never gotten that far with anyone. Jax knows about it because he kept snooping on my diary when he first arrived, and he knows I’m thirty years old, so he teases me about it. No one knows the real reason why, except you.”
“You’re thirty!?” Pomni whisper-yells.
Ragatha winces and glances toward the door. It’s as if she’s expecting Caine to drag her out any second now.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Pomni lowers her voice immediately, though her disbelief remains untouched. “I’m twenty-five. We’re practically the same age.”
“Five years isn’t that close.”
“It is when you keep acting like you’re somebody’s aunt. No offense.”
Ragatha shoves Pomni’s arm playfully. “I do not!”
“You absolutely do. I thought you were way older than me.”
“Because I was engaged?”
“Yeah!”
“Welp. That’s just what happens when your family is full of old-fashioned, snobby people. Half of my sisters got married when they were your age.”
Pomni could almost cry. “Man, I can’t believe you just called your family snobby. I had Asian parents, imagine that.”
“Gee, Pomni.” Ragatha clasps her hands dramatically, doing a poor imitation of an old woman’s voice. “You’re twenty-five. Should’ve had at least two kids and a master’s degree by now.”
She points at her. “Exactly like that.”
Ragatha’s laughter fills the room, bright and unrestrained. For a moment, Pomni finds herself distracted by how different she looks when she’s genuinely amused. Less composed, for one thing. The polished, endlessly patient version of Ragatha that everyone knows seems to melt away, leaving behind the appearance of someone softer and far easier to read. She’s just a girl, the same as her.
“I certainly don’t miss that part.” She says, once she’s calmed down. Ragatha’s still trying her best to hold back her laughter—Pomni can tell by the way she keeps biting her lips. “I thought you’d make fun of me, for sure. Everyone’s so experienced when it comes to love, then there’s little ol’ me.”
She doesn’t continue her self-deprecating commentary. Pomni doesn’t let her. One second she’s lying there listening, and the next she’s throwing herself across the tiny gap between them, wrapping both arms around Ragatha’s middle with enough force to make the bed shake.
She can’t help it. Not when Ragatha is lying there, practically peeling back layers of herself one at a time and trusting Pomni with all of it. Not when she’d spent who knows how long worrying that Pomni would laugh at her for something so deeply personal.
“I would never.” She exhales shakily. “Who cares about that stuff? I thought everyone would judge me for not having done it before.”
“You haven’t?” Ragatha gasps. “But you’re so cool. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. You probably got so many dates.”
Her groan comes out muffled by the fact that she’s still half-buried against Ragatha’s shoulder.
“Okay, now I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
“You absolutely are.”
“Pomni—”
“I barely had any friends.” She shakes her head. “I’m a certified loser, so you can quit trying to be nice now. I don’t need it. You can be as mean and rude as you want to me.”
She feels a pair of arms carefully wrap around her in return.
Pomni becomes acutely aware of how close they are. Close enough to count the painted freckles scattered across Ragatha’s cheeks and definitely enough to notice the rise and fall of her chest. Their legs are tangled up over the covers, Pomni’s right knee nestled comfortably between Ragatha’s.
“You’re really something, new stuff.” She whispers, squeezing Pomni’s middle.
Pomni presses on. “I’m serious. If the reason you've been so distant lately is because you felt like you couldn't be honest with me, then I'd rather you just say or do whatever you want.”
Ragatha pulls back. Then studies her face for a long moment. “Whatever I want?”
“Yeah.”
The confidence behind the answer lasts all of two seconds before Pomni starts questioning why she said it. Not because she regrets it. Quite the opposite. The problem is that she means it. She means it enough that the realization settles heavily in her stomach the moment the words leave her mouth. For weeks now she's been trying not to think about the strange distance that had appeared between them—everytime Ragatha would choose to go with literally anybody else on an adventure just to avoid her, or how she wouldn’t even touch Pomni’s shoulder without permission.
She's secretly grateful that the illusion of night in the circus provides some comfort. Just like it did back in the real world. There’s something about darkness that makes everything feel less embarrassing. Less permanent. Pomni knows for a fact she would never have been brave enough to throw herself at Ragatha and hug her out of nowhere if this conversation were happening in broad daylight. And honestly? It feels worth it.
For one, Ragatha smells surprisingly nice. Like freshly washed blankets and lavender detergent. She also discovers that Ragatha is ridiculously soft. Which shouldn't be surprising, considering she's literally made of plush fabric, but knowing that and experiencing it are apparently two very different things.
Ragatha glances down briefly, as though reconsidering something. When she looks back up, there's a flicker of nervous determination on her face that wasn't there before.
Before Pomni can figure out what the hell that means, Ragatha pulls her forward by the waist. The feather-light pressure on the corner of her mouth is so brief she almost thinks she’s started hallucinating again.
When Ragatha pulls back, her entire face has gone pink.
“What was that for?” Pomni asks.
Stiff as a board, Ragatha immediately lets go of her. She grabs the only other pillow on Pomni’s bed and smothers her own face with it. "Forget it.”
Shaking herself out of her stupor, Pomni realizes with growing alarm that Ragatha is already pushing herself off the bed. Panic flares in her chest. Before she can think better of it, she reaches out and catches the hem of Ragatha’s camisole, tugging just hard enough to pull her off balance. Ragatha lands back on the mattress with a startled oof.
"Wait. Don't go."
She pulls herself on top of Ragatha, bracing one knee on each side of her. It’s not like she’s expecting her to fight her way out of her room, but it never hurts to be sure. Pomni takes the pillow from her, throws it over her shoulder and focuses her full attention on the girl laying beneath her.
“I-I know you’re not a fan of physical touch.” Ragatha splutters. Her hands are clasped awkwardly against her chest, eyes darting everywhere except Pomni's face. “Are you mad at me?”
Pomni lets out a sound of disbelief. “I’m not going to get mad at you for a little kiss.”
“Are you sure?”
Before she can lose her nerve, Pomni leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Ragatha's temple. The thing is, she is kind of angry right now, mostly because Ragatha won’t stop apologizing, and because she won’t cut the act and tell her what she really wants once and for all. Ragatha blinks, drawing in a sharp breath that borders on a gasp. Her hands leave the mattress as if on instinct, landing somewhere on Pomni’s thighs, and that is enough to make Pomni's carefully maintained composure crack.
She squeezes her thighs around Ragatha’s waist. When Ragatha’s mouth falls open a little, lip trembling, Pomni kisses her.
Ragatha makes a startled noise, but she doesn't pull away. Relief crashes through Pomni so suddenly it almost makes her dizzy. She isn't particularly eager to find out what would've happened if Ragatha had pushed her away and looked at her with disgust. Knowing herself, she'd probably spend the rest of the week spiraling over it until abstraction—She wraps her arms around Ragatha's shoulders and enjoys in the feeling of taking control for once.
It’s fast, wet, messy. They're both painfully inexperienced, that much is obvious, and Pomni quickly discovers that having a digital mouth is not nearly as intuitive as she'd hoped. She pushes her hands into Ragatha’s hair, making a mess of it, and pulls back to tug at the collar of Ragatha’s camisole.
“Fuck everybody else,” Pomni pants. Ragatha smiles at the sound of the censor bar. “Jax is so wrong. You’re the only person I would ever do this with."
“I feel the same.” Ragatha says. “Still, I kinda wanted you to kick me out earlier.”
Pomni rolls her eyes in response.
“No, I mean it.” Ragatha’s fingers interlace with Pomni’s. “I was doing so well, too. I made it this long by staying away from you. Turns out that strategy falls apart pretty quickly when I have to see you and your face everyday.”
Pomni's chest tightens. “Are you for real?”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was?” She closes her eyes. “Every time I'd finally convince myself I was being ridiculous, you'd smile at me, or sit next to me, or do something unbearably cute and I'd have to start all over again.”
She’s not cute. Back in the real world, the closest she'd ever gotten to a compliment like that was being told she looked younger than she actually was, usually by strangers who mistook her for a high-school student or by relatives asking when she planned on finally acting her age. Instead of irritation, warmth floods through her chest so quickly it almost hurts. It spreads all the way to her forehead, leaving her feeling embarrassingly overheated.
Ragatha pinches her sides. “See? That's exactly the face I'm talking about.”
“I'm making a face?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of face?”
Ragatha finds Pomni’s mouth again, this time with more force, leaving her weak at the knees. She takes the time to let her hands wander over every inch of Pomni’s exposed skin. Her face, arms, then legs. She squeezes and caresses, turning Pomni into a puddle on top of her.
“Just so we’re clear. We are trying out the update, right?” She asks in between labored breaths. Sure, Ragatha’s pajamas are nice to look at, but she’d much rather see what’s underneath. As respectfully as possible, of course.
Ragatha places a hand on top of Pomni’s heart. “You bet, new stuff."