The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Meetings and Then Some

Sora found herself shifting nervously, illusion flickering around her. Whenever she got like this it was hard to keep it continuous. And there were times when letting it slip could be fatal, should she be with the wrong audience. Briefly, her mind drifted back to the concert gone wrong. The wolves had been so angry at her. And to think imitation is supposed to be the most sincere form of flattery. But they hadn't saw it that way, maybe Texas was just special. But Lappland doesn't hate me for this either. This disguise that was supposed to make her feel brave . . .

Sometimes just made her realize how scared she really was.

But I shouldn't be scared, this is a good thing. And she'll help me.

Hesitantly, her hand raised. She rapped on the door.

Knock. Knock.

A groan that wasn't at all subtle. "Ugh. I think someone's at the door." Clouded with sleep, another tired noise slipped free as the sentence deterred off into nothingness.

Oh my. Did she do what I think she did? And with . . .

There was a shuffling. "What? Who is it so gosh darn early in the morning?" The second voice sounded louder, crankier.

"Uh. It's just me. Sora." She responded as her hand made a hasty retreat from the door.

"Ngghhh. What does she want?" The sleepy voice spoke again.

"I donno. Gonna find out if ya just let me up. Get off me lazy lump. This is uncomfortable." The cranky one groused.

"Hhhh. That's not what you said last night."

"Enough of that! What if she heard ya?"

"So . . . you don't want anyone to know?"

"I never said that!"

"You just implied it!" There was a snapping tone to the previously sleepy voice, deeper undertones becoming clear.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Ugh! Whatever. I didn't mean to. I like you. Like a lot."

"Mmm same. But for you."

"No duh."

Sora's face flushed red from secondhand embarrassment. This conversation was sweet but clearly private. Maybe she should just leave? No. I came here for a reason. And if I chicken out now who knows when I'll try again. Steeling resolve, she knocked again, more insistent this time.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Gah just hold on a sec! And put some clothes on!" The last part of that was certainly not directed at her, but Sora felt the blood rush to her face even more.

The door swung open moments later.

Hair ruffled —hopefully from sleep— dressed in a casual ensemble of a plain black t-shirt, her usual leather jacket, jean shorts, and combat boots, Croissant blinked at her. The lack of a visor made her gaze seem brighter than normal despite being glazed over with sleep.

"Sora? What are you doing here?" Croissant frowned. "Could've sworn you'd be Texas."

"Yeah, I can see that. Um, I'm sorry if I was interrupting something." She blurted, face heating up even more —if that was possible. Apparently it was. "I can leave if I am."

Croissant waved off her concerns. "Nah. You're a whole eight hours too late to be intteruptin' anything of real importance. So, what's up?"

Sora rocked onto her tiptoes, trying to peek inside the room over Croissant's shoulder. None of the lights were on, but if she squinted hard enough she picked out Bison's dazed form on the bed. Blankets swamped the young man. One of his hands was haphazardly thrown at the small open space where the comforter was tossed back. There were clothes on the floor, along with their shields. The space was messy but that was expected with Croissant.