Work Text:
Ragatha stopped in her tracks. She watched her companions walk away.
Pomni had chosen Jax.
After everything he had done, all the things he had made them go through...
Ragatha suddenly found herself alone, standing in the vast space under the enormous tent, that overwhelmingly saturated place, yet completely empty at the same time. She turned with a sigh, and started walking, aimlessly.
The voices of her companions faded into the distance until they disappeared completely. In the silence, Ragatha could only hear the echo of her own footsteps.
She didn’t feel like going back to her room... Maybe she could go out for a while, take a walk around the hills outside. Even if it was just a digital version, the open air had always relaxed her.
She missed the open fields, so green and infinite, but above all, she missed her horses. Galloping at full speed, beyond the farm, into the forest and out in the plains, if only for a few hours, was the closest thing to freedom she could experience in her life, rigidly structured by protocols and expectations. She could remember the wind on her face, drying out the tears, just her and her favorite steed reaching the top of a hill. Memories of resting under the trees or close to a lake, confiding to her horse all the things she would never tell any other human being, while the animal remained silent, without interruptions and without judgment. Ragatha didn't lie to herself, she knew the horse couldn’t understand her. Still, there was something deeply comforting in the way the steed would affectionately nuzzle his head against her, even after "listening" to her darkest, most secret and painful feelings. And, even though he could never understand her circumstances, she knew they shared a real connection.
Ragatha was sure that wherever he was now, he missed her. More than her own mother ever would, certainly.
She thought of that woman, her shouting and constant demands, her unpredictable face, in an instant twisted by rage, or disappointment, or frustration... while her daughter had to keep the peace and the smile, to never have any problems and to never respond with the slightest demonstration of anger, because she knew her mother wouldn’t tolerate it. Ragatha knew she kept too many things inside, that her attitude wasn’t “normal,” but... she didn’t know how to be any other way. And whenever she tried, things always seemed to get worse...
Pomni was the one who told her it was okay to be rude sometimes, but when, immediately after, Ragatha expressed what she felt to Jax in an outburst, Pomni was the first to tell her to “calm down”. That made her even more furious, but at the same time, deeply worried. She didn’t want to be like her mother, all rage and yelling, unable to keep her composture. Incapable of apologizing after saying something hurtful. So that’s exactly what she did.
She really regretted it. She hated Jax, but she didn’t mean to hurt him when she mentioned his friend... it had been an imprudence, insensitive on her part, and she had to admit that, no matter how much she despised Jax. She sighed, feeling guilty and ashamed because of that action, and also because of her reaction, but at the same time, the feelings of anger and resentment remained.
Ragatha walked out of the circus, towards the grounds surrounding the lake, while trying to tell herself that, even though her words had hurt, she had said them without that motivation, unlike Jax, who seemed to be constantly trying to find the sharpest comments to hurt others, just for fun. She didn’t expect that to excuse her, but she did think it had to make a difference. She wasn’t like that, or at least, she didn’t want to be.
And yet, Pomni had chosen him.
What if Jax made Pomni just like him? Or if Pomni actually had more in common with him?
Maybe she should have sought the company of Kinger, Zooble, and Gangle, but...
Ragatha sighed. Gangle.
She wished she could remember exactly what she told her, but that stupid, stupid sauce...
The girl stopped in her tracks. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists before breathing deeply. No, she shouldn’t blame the sauce. If what she thought was true, the sauce didn’t put words in her mouth, it only removed some of her brakes. Brakes she had carefully built since childhood to avoid disturbing others, so she would not bother them, would not make them feel bad, so she would not be rude...
Brakes to not provoke her mother. But above all, to not be like her...
But what if she already was like her? Why couldn’t she remember what she said to Gangle?
Something very hurtful, without a doubt. Something that made Gangle pull away even more from her. From the start, she had sensed that the other girl didn’t seem to fully trust her, and she didn’t quite understand why.
Ragatha had tried to support Gangle, understanding that what she was going through was especially difficult, and that Jax’s bullying made it even harder. The few times Ragatha had expressed her anger openly, had been to defend Gangle from Jax.
And yet, that day at Spudsy’s, when Jax threw Ragatha into the fryer, Gangle didn’t make the most minimal move to help her.
For Gangle, the priority had been to seize the chance to exercise her newly acquired power over Jax, without even considering trying to help Ragatha out of the boiling oil. She hadn’t admitted it at the time, but it had hurt her, and made her angry. She wanted to think it had not been Gangle's choice, not really, that it happened only after she started wearing that stupid, stupid mask, that it was the object what made her act like that...
But it had not been the mask, had it? Just like it had not been the sauce...
Whatever she had said to Gangle came straight from those contained emotions, of anger and resentment. Maybe, if she had expressed her feelings earlier, directly, but carefully... could it have been different? But, was it even possible to express anger without ending up shouting? What would she have done if, after talking to Gangle, she hadn’t responded the way Ragatha would have hoped?
Like every time she tried to have a conversation with her mother, to tell her that something she said had hurt her, or that she wished to have her support but had not received it, or that she wanted to be heard, or that she felt betrayed, or that she needed help...
No, there was no way to talk about any of that with her mother. Ragatha had already accepted it a very long time ago. Any hint of needs, of vulnerability, of feelings... was taken by her mother as an unforgivable imperfection her daughter couldn’t allow to exist. Or worse, and even more unforgivable: as an ungrateful, personal attack on her, and all of her efforts as a mother.
Ragatha didn’t realize when she had reached the hills. The evening was setting in, and she decided to sit in the grass. The twilight bathed the lake in orange colors. The girl looked out at the distance, at the little forest and the edge of the void. Everything was peaceful and calm, until suddenly, a loud voice revealed she was not alone:
“Ragatha, my bright, so beautiful bouncing bee! What brings you here?” Caine's voice resonated from up in the air. “Tell me! How did you find today's adventures?”
“They were... incredible, yes!” Ragatha replied, instinctively smiling at him. She didn’t pay much attention to what Caine said in response; she only focused on the sudden realization that she wasn’t able to express her annoyance or disagreement, not even to the AI.
Should she tell him she would have preferred that the adventure had followed the real rules of softball? That seeing those evil versions of themselves had been a bit... disturbing? But what if that made him sad, or worse, angry?
Ragatha sighed. Being realistic, he probably wouldn’t even listen. And if he did, he would probably forget it quickly.
The night was falling, and bright stars began to appear in the sky. She turned towards him, who was rambling about something regarding bees, while showing her some kinda cute drawings in his notebook.
Ragatha perceived something in his eyes. Inhuman, but not empty. Alien, but present. Expectant, but incapable of understanding. Incapable of judging, perhaps.
Maybe that reminded her a little of her beloved horse...
And maybe that was why, she started speaking:
“Caine, do you... do you know what it’s like to be lonely?” Her voice broke a little at the end. “That no matter what you do, how hard you try, that no matter how much you care, you’re never enough? Never good enough to be... chosen?”
Ragatha could not keep holding back the tears anymore. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs.
"Do you know what is like to have to play perfectly a role you never chose? To do your absolute best, yet... it's never enough? And the problem is: you don't know how to be anything else?" She continued, and closed her eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to be always smiling, because you don’t know what will happen if you stop doing it?”
After a few moments of sobbing in silence, Ragatha noticed that Caine, strangely, hadn’t said a thing, and she wondered if he even was still there. She wiped her eyes with her plushie hands and looked around.
Caine had descended, and was now sitting on the grass, not far from her, his eyes wide open, large pupils fixed on her face, tilting slightly his strange head, as if trying to understand.
Could he grasp it? Was that an expression of... genuine interest? Or was it just his artificial system, trying to process something it wasn’t designed to comprehend?
Ragatha sighed. There was no point. She was halfway getting up to go back to her room when-
“It’s awful.”
Ragatha completely froze upon hearing Caine’s voice.
She was used to hear it booming, singing, shouting, screaming... so, listening to him speak in a natural tone and normal volume was... quite strange. The girl slowly turned her astonished face towards him. Caine wasn’t looking at her anymore, now his gaze was downcast.
“What... what did you say?” Ragatha asked.
He glanced at her briefly, but stayed completely, eerily silent.
Ragatha blinked. What had that been? A programmed response? A glitch? Just her own imagination?
Maybe... true understanding?
She realized that she had frozen, halfway before getting up.
Slowly, she sat back down on the grass, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, before sighing and turning her gaze back to the starry sky.
She decided to stay right there, just for a little longer.