The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Days of Forgotten Past 12

"Don't give up on what makes you happy Texas. Life is too short."

Why? Why were those her parting words?

The sky was dark, clouds blotting out the moon. A few stars poked through the infinitesimal gaps. They were bits of light trying to break free from the bleak shadows, trying to squeeze their way into her battered heart. White-knuckled grip on the stairwell, Texas let out another shuddering breath. She stared up at the night sky. Drinking in the cold air with each inhale her body almost seemed to burn. Too many emotions swam in the depths of her soul. If she were made of glass Texas knew she would have broken by now, shattering into a million pieces.

But she wasn't glass, not that it mattered.

Her heart felt broken beyond repair.

"I-I don't know why . . . Why this is so hard . . ."

The metal object was far from the coldest thing here but it might as well have been a piece of dry ice at this point. A small tag attached at the end reflected the sole beam of moonlight shining through. A name was written there, engraved for all to see. Texas remembered the day she got this gift. It had been a cold day just like this one. She was so often prepared for every eventuality, but this came as a surprise. A happy one. This gift meant so much to her then, and may even have been considered the start of their relationship. Such a wonderful day, her heart fit to bursting.

But things were different now.

She was different.

And so was Lappland.

"Why can't I just do this? Why? Why? WHY?!"

She resisted the urge to scream. Her hands were shaking, the necklace swinging like a damaged pendulum. It seemed to match the will of the owner. She wondered if the match made for it was still in existence. Perhaps it was already lost to a place with no return, be it a stream or a muddied pit.

Rain began to fall, tiny droplets turning fat as they splashed into grimy puddles. The few that landed in her half-open mouth burned like acid on her tongue. She swallowed it down and took with it the unmistakable sorrow wrenching out the vulnerable heart in her chest. Black dress wet already —not from rain— she let out a sigh.

"You should come in Texas, before you catch a cold."

She turned to see Houston hobbling over to her. He'd been relying more on his cane as of late, as if the loss of Gran had made him lose the will to keep up the therapy needed to walk without it. Both of them struggled with the dark fate handed to them, trying to pick up a broken boulevard of dreams. She saw it every time Houston spoke of Gran, of their plans for the future, how they would watch Texas become alpha, watch their grandchild get married and have children of her own. All of it seemed like a lost dream, a lost hope.

And maybe that's what it was.

"I don't. I don't want to." She muttered.

The painful memories swirled around like a broken record. Gran was cradled in her arms, sticky crimson covering her stomach to spill onto Texas's fuzzy coat. The metallic stuff mixed in with dirt and grime. And her bronze swords had a streak of it too. She'd been too numb to wipe it off. Knowing whose blood it was . . . her stomach churned.

"Texas." Houston emphasized her name, the word a low growl. When she was a child that growl had always been like a warning shot. 'Do not take another step further' it seemed to say. Texas had learned the boundaries of the line, knew where there was leeway, if there was any to be had in the first place.

Both of them were so tired though. And when they were tired all the lines blurred.

"I know, I know. I'm coming." She told herself it was for Houston's sake and not hers that she followed him dutifully back home. Well, not the home she had gotten used to living in.