Chapter Text
Pomni was already tired.
Not the normal, buzzing, end-of-day tired that passed if she stood still long enough. This was the kind that sat behind her eyes and pressed forward, the kind that made every sound feel sharper than it needed to be.
“Would you stop doing that,” she snapped.
Jax didn’t even look at her. He was leaning against a pillar near the center of the circus, flicking one of his gloves on and off his hand like he had all the time in the world.
“Doing what?” he asked, far too casually.
“That,” Pomni said, pointing at him. “You’re doing it right now.”
He grinned. “Wow. Great explanation. Super clear.”
Pomni clenched her hands. “You’re being annoying on purpose.”
“On purpose?” Jax gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “Pomni, I’d never.”
She stared at him. Hard. Long enough that the grin wavered just slightly.
“You know exactly what I mean,” she said. “Every time things get even a little tense, you turn it into a joke. And it’s not funny.”
Jax shrugged. “Guess you just don’t have a sense of humor.”
“That’s not—” She stopped herself, breath hitching. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is you snapping at me for literally existing.”
“I’m not snapping at you for existing,” Pomni said, her voice rising despite herself. “I’m snapping at you because you don’t take anything seriously. Ever.”
“Oh, here we go,” Jax said, rolling his eyes. “Is this another lecture? Should I sit down?”
She took a step toward him. “I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Yeah, and I’m trying to survive this place without losing my mind,” he shot back. “Sorry if I don’t want to wallow in whatever spiral you’re on today.”
Pomni froze.
That one hit.
“You think I want to be like this?” she asked quietly.
Jax hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. Then he scoffed.
“I think you like being the center of every emotional meltdown,” he said. “It’s kind of your thing.”
Something sharp twisted in her chest.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Okay. So that’s how you see me.”
“What, dramatic?” he said. “Anxious? Constantly freaking out over nothing? Yeah. That tracks.”
“It’s not nothing,” Pomni said, her voice shaking now. “We almost lost people. Things are getting worse. And you—” She gestured wildly. “You just laugh like it doesn’t matter.”
“Because if I don’t,” Jax snapped suddenly, “then what?”
The air between them went tight.
Pomni blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jax turned away, jaw clenched. “Forget it.”
“No,” Pomni said, stepping closer. “You don’t get to say something like that and then brush it off. What do you mean?”
He laughed again, but it was thinner now. Forced. “I mean exactly what I said. If I don’t joke about it, then I’m stuck feeling everything. And trust me, that’s not a great look for me.”
Pomni softened despite herself. “Jax…”
He spun back around. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do that,” he said sharply. “That voice. That look. I don’t need your pity.”
“I’m not pitying you,” Pomni said. “I’m trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”
She swallowed. “You don’t have to ask. That’s what people do.”
“People,” Jax repeated, smirking. “Right. Forgot we were doing that now.”
Pomni felt heat crawl up her neck. “Why do you push everyone away the second they get close?”
“Oh, please,” he said. “You’re not ‘close.’ You’re just nosy.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it?” he shot back. “You don’t care about me. You care about fixing me so you feel better.”
“That’s not fair,” Pomni said again, louder this time. “I do care.”
“Then stop trying to change me.”
“I’m not trying to change you!” she yelled. “I’m trying to understand you!”
“Why?” Jax demanded. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
Pomni opened her mouth—then stopped.
Because the answer was complicated. Because saying because I see you falling apart and it scares me felt too raw. Too vulnerable.
“I don’t know,” she said instead.
Jax laughed. “Exactly.”
Before she could respond, the lights above them flickered.
Once. Twice.
Then the circus went silent.
Pomni stiffened. “Did you feel that?”
Jax frowned. “Okay, yeah. That’s not normal.”
A cheerful jingle echoed through the tent, far too loud for the sudden quiet.
“HELLO, MY MOST EMOTIONALLY STIMULATING PERFORMERS!”
Pomni winced. “Oh no.”
Caine appeared in a burst of color and motion, spinning midair like he was unveiling a prize.
“Boy, oh boy, have I been noticing some conflict lately!” he sang. “And what’s better for conflict than a FUN, TEAM-BUILDING EXERCISE?”
“Nope,” Jax said immediately. “Hard pass.”
Caine ignored him. “You two seem especially… spicy with each other! So I thought—why not send you on a little getaway?”
Pomni’s stomach dropped. “A getaway?”
“Yes!” Caine clapped his hands. “A beautiful, serene, totally safe environment where you can work through your differences!”
Jax squinted. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be punished?”
“Oh, don’t be silly!” Caine said. “It’s not a punishment if it’s good for you.”
Pomni backed up a step. “Caine, we didn’t agree to anything.”
“And you don’t need to!” he chirped. “Surprises build character!”
Jax pointed at Pomni. “See? This is what happens when you talk about your feelings.”
“Hey!” Pomni snapped. “This is not my fault!”
Caine raised a finger. “Ah-ah! No arguing until you arrive at your destination!”
“What destination?” Pomni asked.
Caine’s grin widened.
“Bon voyage!”
The floor vanished.
Pomni screamed as the world twisted, colors smearing together like wet paint. She felt weightless for half a second—then—
Thud.
She landed hard on warm sand, the air knocked clean out of her lungs.
“—ow,” Jax groaned nearby.
Pomni pushed herself up, heart racing. Bright blue sky stretched overhead. Waves lapped gently against a shoreline. Palm trees swayed in a breeze that felt almost too perfect.
She stared.
“…Oh,” she said faintly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Jax sat up, brushing sand off his jacket. He looked around, then let out a low whistle.
“Well,” he said. “At least it’s not ugly.”
Pomni turned to him slowly.
“This is your fault.”
Jax blinked. “My fault?”
“Yes!” she said. “If you hadn’t been antagonizing me—”
“Oh, antagonizing you?” he scoffed. “You were the one yelling!”
“I was trying to communicate!”
“And I was trying to have a normal day!”
Pomni threw her hands up. “We are stranded!”
“Relax,” Jax said, standing. “Caine always pulls us back eventually.”
Pomni looked at the empty horizon. The silence pressed in.
“…What if he doesn’t?” she asked.
Jax hesitated.
Then he grinned again. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Pomni hugged her arms to herself, unease crawling up her spine.
Something about this place felt wrong.
And she had a horrible feeling this was only the beginning.
Walking helped.
At least, Pomni thought it did—until she realized it wasn’t actually taking them anywhere.
The shoreline curved the same way no matter which direction they went. Palm trees repeated themselves just enough to feel intentional. Like a set piece that didn’t want to admit it was one.
“This place is fake,” Pomni muttered.
Jax, walking a few steps ahead of her, kicked a stone into the surf. “Everything’s fake. You’re gonna have to narrow it down.”
She frowned at his back. He was moving too casually. Hands in pockets. Shoulders loose. Like they weren’t stranded on an island with no exit and no clear rules.
How can he act like that? she thought.
Is he really that calm… or is he pretending again?
“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?” she asked.
Jax glanced over his shoulder. “I am taking it seriously.”
“You don’t look like it.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, smirking, “you don’t look like you’re having fun either, but here we are.”
Pomni sighed, rubbing her temples. “This isn’t a vacation.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jax said. “Sand, ocean, no screaming mascots—kinda an upgrade.”
She shot him a look. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he replied, slowing down so she caught up, “you’re still following me.”
That earned him a sharp glare—but then she realized he was right. She was sticking close. Not intentionally. It just… happened.
Pomni looked away. “I’m just trying to map the area.”
“Mhm. Totally,” Jax said. “Not because being alone with your thoughts freaks you out or anything.”
She stopped walking. “That’s not fair.”
He stopped too.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The breeze rustled the trees. Waves hissed against the shore.
Jax scratched the back of his neck. “Okay. Yeah. That was—” He paused. “That was kind of a low blow.”
Pomni blinked, surprised.
“You admit that?” she asked.
“Don’t get used to it,” he said quickly. “I’ve got a reputation.”
She let out a small, reluctant huff of laughter before she could stop herself.
Jax noticed. His eyebrows lifted. “Was that a laugh?”
“No,” Pomni said immediately. “It was—air.”
“Sure it was.”
The tension eased, just a fraction. Enough to make the silence less sharp.
They walked again.
Pomni watched him out of the corner of her eye. He kept scanning the ground, the trees, the waterline—alert, despite the jokes. She hadn’t noticed that before.
So he is paying attention, she thought.
He just doesn’t want me to know.
“Why do you do that?” she asked suddenly.
Jax stiffened. “Do what.”
“Act like nothing bothers you,” Pomni said. “Even when it clearly does.”
He snorted. “Clearly? You’ve got a pretty loose definition of that.”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s the problem.”
Pomni frowned. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
She hesitated, then said quietly, “You know it’s okay to be scared, right?”
The words hung there.
Jax’s first instinct was to laugh. To deflect. To say something stupid and make it go away.
Nope. Abort. Do not engage, his brain screamed.
If she starts caring, that’s dangerous.
He shrugged instead. “Scared of what? A beach episode?”
Pomni didn’t laugh this time.
“You don’t have to joke,” she said.
“Yes. I do.”
She studied him. The way his ears tilted back just slightly. The way his eyes flicked away from hers too fast.
He’s lying, she realized.
Not to me. To himself.
Before she could say anything else, Jax suddenly bent down.
“Oho,” he said. “What’s this?”
He reached into the sand and pulled out a glass bottle, half-buried near a cluster of rocks. Inside was a rolled-up piece of paper, obnoxiously colorful.
Pomni’s stomach sank. “Please tell me that’s not—”
Jax uncorked it. “Oh, it’s definitely him.”
He unrolled the paper and cleared his throat dramatically.
“‘HELLO, STRANDED STARS!’” Jax read. “‘If you’re reading this, congratulations! You’ve discovered your first BONUS RULE!’”
Pomni groaned. “I hate him.”
Jax continued, “‘You’ll be enjoying this lovely island for TEN WHOLE DAYS!’”
Pomni froze. “Ten… days?”
Jax winced. “Yikes.”
He kept reading.
“‘The more you work together, the more food, shelter, and resources you’ll receive—no scavenging required!’”
Pomni looked up sharply. “Work together?”
“‘But if you insist on arguing,’” Jax read, “‘you’ll have to fend for yourselves! Isn’t cooperation fun?’”
There was a little doodle of Caine smiling at the bottom.
Pomni felt a knot form in her chest. “He’s controlling us.”
“Shocker,” Jax said. “Creepy ringmaster does creepy ringmaster things.”
“But this—this is manipulation,” she said. “He’s incentivizing behavior.”
Jax glanced at her. “Wow. Big words.”
She ignored him. “Ten days is a long time.”
“Could be worse.”
“How?”
“We could be here with other people,” Jax said. “At least it’s just us.”
Pomni wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.
They stood there, the bottle between them.
“So,” Jax said finally, “guess that means if we want food without playing Survivor, we’ve gotta… what, hold hands and sing?”
Pomni rolled her eyes. “It means we have to communicate.”
He grimaced. “Ugh. That one’s definitely the worst.”
Despite herself, Pomni smiled a little.
Then she caught herself and quickly looked away.
Why do I keep doing that? she wondered.
Why does it matter so much whether he takes this seriously?
Because when he didn’t, it felt like she was alone again.
Jax folded the note and shoved it back into the bottle. Ten days, he thought.
Ten days with her.
His chest tightened.
She cares, a traitorous part of his brain whispered.
She actually cares.
“Nope,” he muttered under his breath.
Pomni glanced at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just… thinking.”
She hesitated. “About what?”
He smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She frowned—but didn’t push.
They started walking again, side by side this time.
Not touching.
Not fighting.
Just… coexisting.
And somehow, that felt more dangerous than the arguing ever had.
Jax walked too fast.
Pomni noticed it about three minutes in, when her legs started to ache and he was already halfway up a slight incline without looking back.
“Can you slow down?” she called.
Jax didn’t stop. “Why?”
“Because you’re walking like you’re trying to escape the island,” Pomni said. “And I’m—”
“Short?” Jax offered cheerfully.
Pomni scowled. “I was going to say not built like a cartoon giraffe.”
He finally turned around, grinning. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m tall and you’re about as high off the ground as a seashell.”
Pomni stopped dead.
“…Excuse you?”
He shrugged. “What? It’s accurate.”
Pomni crossed her arms. “I think your height is compensating for something else.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Silence.
Jax blinked.
Pomni’s brain immediately screamed, regretting everything, but she had to roll with it. Old habits die hard.
She felt heat rush to her face. That was unnecessary. That was mean. Why did I go there.
Jax let out a slow, impressed whistle. “Wow. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I didn’t mean—” Pomni started.
“Oh no,” he cut in. “Too late. That was a full swing. Can’t backpedal now.”
She groaned internally. Great. Now I’ve escalated it.
“Well?” Jax added, leaning down slightly so they were eye level. “If we’re psychoanalyzing each other now, should I start guessing what your deal is?”
Pomni bristled. “I didn’t say—”
“Because I’ve got theories,” he continued. “Most of them involve control issues and way too much overthinking.”
“That’s not fair,” she snapped.
“Neither is body-shaming,” he shot back, smirking.
She opened her mouth to argue—then stopped. Her shoulders slumped a little.
“…Okay,” she muttered. “That one’s on me.”
Jax paused.
That wasn’t what he expected.
He straightened up, ears twitching. “Huh. An apology. Didn’t think today would be the day.”
“Don’t make it weird,” Pomni said quickly.
“Oh, I’m absolutely making it weird.”
Despite herself, Pomni huffed out a laugh. It was short, startled—like it escaped without permission.
Jax noticed immediately.
“There it is again,” he said. “You laugh like you’re surprised it happened.”
“I am,” she replied. “Most things aren’t funny lately.”
“…Yeah,” Jax said, quieter than before.
They walked on.
Pomni watched his stride, trying to match it. Why does he always move like he’s got somewhere better to be? she wondered. Is he running toward something—or away from it?
Before she could dwell on it, something crashed into the sand a few meters ahead of them.
They both jumped back as a messy pile of wooden planks, beams, and rope fell from the sky with a loud thud.
“…What,” Pomni said flatly.
A second later, a small, glitching figure flickered into existence above the pile.
“Oh n—” the figure said.
Then it vanished.
Pomni stared at the empty air. “…Did that guy just—”
“Yep,” Jax said. “He sure did.”
They looked at the wood. Then at each other.
Pomni sighed. “Caine.”
“Has to be,” Jax agreed. “We didn’t even argue for, like, five minutes. Guess that counts as teamwork.”
She frowned. “That’s a really low bar.”
“Welcome to the system.”
Jax crouched, poking at the planks. “Huh. Decent quality, too.”
“What are you doing?” Pomni asked.
He stood, brushing sand off his gloves. “Building myself a house.”
Pomni blinked. “You cannot build a house.”
“Watch me.”
“You don’t even know how.”
He grinned. “Neither do you, and yet you’re constantly constructing ways to annoy people.”
She scowled. “That didn’t even make sense.”
“Neither does this place.”
Pomni looked at the pile, then back at him. “You’re serious.”
“Yep,” Jax said. “Ten days is a long time. I’m not sleeping on sand like some kind of sad beach creature.”
She crossed her arms. “Yeah, right. You’ll give up in an hour.”
He raised a brow. “Wanna bet?”
“No.”
“Smart.”
Pomni hesitated, then said, “I’ll build my own.”
Jax laughed. “Of course you will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I give it twenty minutes before you start reorganizing your sticks by size.”
“…I am not that predictable.”
He smirked. “You are.”
She huffed and turned away. “Whatever. I’m finding better materials.”
“Good luck, seashell,” he called after her.
She flipped him off without turning around. He laughed, genuine this time.
As they split up, Pomni felt that familiar tug of unease settle in her chest.
We’re doing this separately, she thought. Even when the rules are telling us not to.
From across the clearing, Jax watched her go.
She didn’t mean that comment, he thought.
She cares. That’s the problem.
He shook his head. “Nope. Bad thought.”
Ten days.
And already, the island was testing them.
Jax had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
The structure in front of him was basically pile. Two planks leaned together like they were conspiring to collapse the second he looked away. Rope dangled uselessly from a branch where he’d tied it with confidence and zero knowledge.
He crossed his arms and stared at it.
“…Nailed it,” he muttered.
From across the clearing, Pomni was crouched near a cluster of rocks, carefully sorting driftwood by length. Of course she was.
Jax snorted.
He turned back to his mess, grabbing another plank and trying to wedge it into place. It slipped, smacked him lightly in the foot, and fell.
He bent down to pick it up, and froze.
Pomni was laughing.
Not loudly. Just a soft, startled laugh under her breath, like she’d tried to stop it and failed.
She wasn’t laughing at him. Not really. It was more like… the situation.
Something in his chest twisted.
He straightened quickly, turning away so she wouldn’t catch him looking.
Nope. Don’t go there.
He slammed the plank against the structure harder than necessary. It held. Barely.
She’s nosy, he reminded himself.
Always asking questions. Always trying to fix things.
And yet.. Earlier, when she’d apologized.
He hadn’t expected that.
Most people didn’t back down when they took a swing at him. They doubled down. Made it a competition. Pomni hadn’t. That scared him more than the insult ever could.
She gets too close, he thought.
Close enough to see stuff.
He tied the rope again, fingers moving faster than his thoughts. If he slowed down, he’d start thinking about why it mattered that she cared. And that was a bad idea.
Because caring led to expectations.
Expectations led to disappointment.
Disappointment led to... Abstracting.
His grip tightened.
No. Stop.
He glanced over again, against his better judgment. Pomni had built something small but neat, more organized than his. She was frowning at it, tapping her chin like it personally offended her.
He smirked despite himself. “Hey,” he called. “If you’re trying to build a house, it usually helps not to glare it.”
She looked up. “I’m thinking.”
“About me?” He asked in fake innnocence
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. Anyway, at least I’m not stacking planks like I’m daring them to fall.”
“It's not my fault they wont stay up.”
She snorted, then caught herself and looked away, embarrassed.
That did something unpleasant to his chest.
Don’t, he warned himself.
Don’t like that.
He walked over before he could stop himself. Pomni glanced up as his shadow fell over her half-built shelter. “What?”
He shrugged. “Your roof’s backwards.”
She frowned. “It is not.”
“It is,” he said, pointing. “Rain’ll run straight in.”
She hesitated. Looked at it again.
“…Oh.”
There it was again. That openness. That willingness to listen.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked.
The question hit him harder than it should have.
“I’m not,” he said immediately. “Just… didn’t want to hear you complain later.”
“That’s still helping.”
He scoffed. “Don’t read into it.”
She studied him, quiet. Too quiet. “Jax,” she said carefully, “you don’t have to—”
“Nope,” he cut in. “Not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them. “The serious talk. The emotional excavation. I’m on a break.”
Pomni’s shoulders lowered slightly. “I wasn’t trying to trap you.”
“I know,” he snapped.
Then softer, almost to himself, “That’s the problem.”
She blinked. “What?”
He’d said too much.
He stepped back like the words had burned him. “Nothing. You’re imagining things.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, forcing a grin, “you’re great at that.”
Her expression fell, not angry. Just… hurt.
Guilt flared sharp and fast. Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.
He saw it then, how hard she was trying. Not to fix him. Not to corner him. Just to understand. And if he let that happen..
He’d break.
He turned abruptly. “I’m gonna finish my house.”
“Jax—”
“Nope,” he said, already walking away. “Conversation over.”
He didn’t look back. Behind him, Pomni watched him go, fingers curling into her sleeves.
Every time, she thought. Every time I get close, he runs.
Jax reached his pile of planks and dropped to his knees, breathing harder than he should’ve been.
“Idiot,” he muttered, to himself this time like a loser.
He picked up the next piece of wood and kept building.
Anything to keep from feeling.
By the time the sky began to warm into softer colors, both huts technically existed.
Pomni’s was small but deliberate, planks lined up carefully, gaps minimized, a little doorway she’d measured three times before cutting anything. It looked like something meant to last.
Jax’s, on the other hand, looked like it had been dared into existence. It leaned. Slightly. One wall was shorter than the others. The roof was wonky too.
Pomni stared at it from her side of the clearing. “…You’re going to get crushed in that,” she said.
Jax adjusted a plank and stepped back, hands on his hips. “Nah. It’s got character.”
“It has structural issues.”
“Semantics.”
She shook her head, half-amused, half-concerned. The quiet between them felt strange now, not tense, just… suspended.
Pomni broke it softly. “This is weird.”
Jax glanced over. “Yeah. That’s kind of the theme.”
“No, I mean...” She gestured around them. “The materials. The timing. The way things just… appear.”
He shrugged. “Welcome to Caine.”
She frowned. “You’re saying this like you’ve seen this before.”
He paused.
“Have you?” she asked.
Jax hesitated, eyes flicking to the sky. “Caine doesn’t like dead air,” he said finally. “If things get too quiet, he fills the space.”
“With what?”
“Stuff. Rules. Pressure.” He scoffed lightly. “He hates it when we don’t perform.”
Pomni hugged her arms. “That’s… messed up.”
“Yeah,” Jax said. “That’s him.”
She studied him. “How do you know all that?”
Jax opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked at her properly for the first time in a while.
She looked tired. Sand in her shoes. Hair a little messier than usual. Still standing straight, still trying to make sense of something that refused to make sense back.
Something twisted in his chest. He wanted to say it then. Something honest. Something real. Something like you’re not wrong or I hate it too or I don’t joke because I don’t care, I joke because I do.
He swallowed.
“Goodnight, Pomni.”
She blinked. “What?”
He was already turning away. “Try not to overthink it.”
“I—Jax—”
Too late.
He ducked into his hut, which immediately protested with soft creak. Pomni stood there, staring at the closed doorway.
“…What the hell just happened?” she whispered.
She waited.
Nothing. A slow, dumbfounded feeling settled in her chest.
She exhaled. “Unbelievable.”
But instead of crawling into her own hut, Pomni turned toward the shoreline. The ocean shimmered under the fading light, calm and inviting.
I need to clear my head, she thought.
Just for a minute.
A swim sounded… nice.
The moment the thought fully formed. Something dropped from the sky. Pomni yelped as fabric smacked her shoulder and slid into the sand at her feet.
She stared.
Blue and red. A one piece. Perfectly folded, like it had been gift-wrapped by the universe.
She closed her eyes.
“…Caine,” she muttered.
The waves rolled in, indifferent.
Behind her, in a hut barely big enough to turn over in, Jax lay staring at the ceiling.
Idiot, he thought.
You had the chance.
Sleep didn’t come.
Pomni picked up the swimsuit slowly, like it might disappear if she moved too fast. Blue and red. Simple. Soft-looking. Real.
She swallowed.
“…I’ve never…” she murmured, trailing off.
She’d never had the chance, really. Never needed to. The suit had always been her. Part of her. Like skin she couldn’t take off.
Now, standing alone on an empty shore, she hesitated.
This is strange, she thought.
Not bad. Just… strange.
She changed behind a palm tree, movements careful, awkward. When she stepped out again, she looked down at herself and froze.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Her body looked… normal. Not exaggerated. Not stiff or artificial. Just hers..
She hugged her arms around herself, not embarrassed, just grounding, slightly weirded out from seeing herself.
“…Wow,” she said quietly. “I didn’t even know this was an option.”
The water called to her.
Cool. Calm. Honest.
Pomni walked to the shoreline and dipped her toes in, shivering as the chill wrapped around her ankles. She took a breath and waded in, letting the ocean rise around her until it reached her waist, then her shoulders.
She closed her eyes and sank under. For a moment, the world went quiet.
From his hut, Jax heard movement. He wasn’t sleeping anyway. He pushed the flimsy doorway aside just enough to look out, and froze.
Pomni stood near the water, hair loose, fabric unfamiliar against her frame.
Jax’s brain short-circuited.
…Oh.
He blinked.
Didn’t know that was an option.
She looked different. Not in a dramatic way. Just… real. Unguarded. Like she wasn’t bracing herself for something to go wrong. A heat flickered in his chest, sharp and unwelcome.
She’s....
He stopped himself.
Cute, his traitorous brain supplied.
His ears flattened. “Nope.”
He looked away, then immediately looked back.
Okay. Fine. She’s hot.
Whatever. Doesn’t mean anything. His jaw tightened.
I hate her, he told himself.
She’s nosy. She asks too many questions. She gets in my head.
Pomni dove under the water, resurfacing a second later, breath steady. Something twisted in his stomach.
I want to watch her suffer, he thought viciously.
I want to see her panic. I want to see her break.
The thought landed wrong. Hollow. Like a lie he was forcing himself to believe.
“…Idiot,” he muttered, turning away hard and retreating into his hut.
Pomni surfaced, slicking her hair back, breathing slowly. For a moment, there was nothing but water and sky.
No circus. No arguments. No expectations.
Maybe this place isn’t all bad, she thought.
Something shifted.
A soft thump echoed behind her. Pomni turned.
A crate sat on the sand near the huts, new, clean, stamped with a familiar star.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.
Inside were supplies. Fresh water. Food. A lantern.
Caine.
She laughed softly, incredulous. “So that’s how it works.”
As if on cue, a second crate appeared, closer to Jax’s hut.
Her smile faded.
He doesn’t even know, she realized.
We did this without trying.
She swam back to shore, wrapping herself in a towel that had also conveniently appeared. From his hut, Jax heard the noise and peeked out again.
“…What the....”
He spotted the crates and groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Pomni walked over, still damp, hair dripping.
“Looks like Caine approved,” she said.
Jax snorted. “Of course he did. We stop fighting and suddenly he’s generous.”
She hesitated. “That bothers you too, right?”
He paused.
“…Yeah,” he said. “It does.”
She looked at him, surprised.
He met her gaze, for half a second, the words almost escaped.
Something honest. Too honest.
Instead, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh. Swim help?”
“A little,” she said. “I needed to think.”
He nodded. “Figures.”
Silence stretched.
“Well,” Jax said finally, “guess we survived day one.”
Pomni smiled faintly. “Barely.”
He hesitated, then added, quieter, “Night, Pomni.”
She blinked.
“Goodnight, Jax.”
He disappeared back into his hut. Inside, he lay staring at the ceiling again, jaw clenched.
Stop thinking about her, he ordered himself.
That way leads to nothing good.
Outside, Pomni stood listening to the waves.
Ten days.
And the island was already forcing them to feel things they weren’t ready for.