#post re4

Ch. 1

Everybody at headquarters seemed to be going insane. You'd found that the clacking of keyboards mixed with the sound of fingertips flicking through documents was almost rhythmic. People became glued to their monitors, their faces illuminated with blue light.

The constant noise of overlapping conversations surrounding the mission was overwhelming, and almost nauseaiting to you- barely 21 and on your first mission, as your exhaustion made it hard to keep focusing on their words, which to you had become slurred.

Hunnigan, your supervisor, who had also supervised your training, was gently rocking in her chair, wearing an expression you couldn't quite read- not anxious, but not entirely relaxed either;

"Command, this is Operations. Ingrid Hunnigan speaking, do you copy?" She spoke through the small microphone cupping her right cheek. Her eyes became locked on the screen. A crease formed between her brows, and her usually perfect posture had slouched towards the screen, yet her legs remained elegantly crossed.

No one looked your way anymore. Conversations flowed around you as analysts hurried between desks. You'd slipped further into the background in that moment of tension. You didn't mind, you knew your position as a rookie. However, the room, that once felt noticeably cold due to the strong air conditioning (and the undeniable tension that could've been cut with a knife)- suddenly felt heavy with strenuous technical speech and ragged breaths, printers spitting out assessment documents one after another.

You sat slightly behind Hunnigan, to her left, paying attention to how she managed things, how she dashed quickly from tab to tab on her computer, her pupils following, determined.

"Baby Eagle and Agent Kennedy are secured... uh-huh. ETA 3 minutes, copy that. Escort the package to Medical, then get Ashley to protective services, then, debriefing. Acknowledge?" , you watched her say in a steady tone, and you couldn't help but feel eager at the sound of Leon's name. In a swift motion, she elegantly abandoned her headgear on the table whilst lifting herself up from the chair, her heels making a bold sound on the parquet floor as she stood, and called for attention in the operations team room;

"Alright, listen up!" The room went quiet in just a couple of seconds, heads turned in her direction and you stared in awe, still seated, still inmobile, still absolutely silent, intimidated by the authority she carried.

"The assets are secured, everybody! Baby Eagle and Agent Kennedy are both safe. Their ETA is 3 minutes. They've cleared the rooftop and the medical unit is already waiting on the landing zone. Everybody relax, the mission was a success, you all did a great job." She sounded proud, not just of herself but of everybody else involved.

The air felt suddenly lighter, as you saw most of the people in the team sigh with relief, then smile. Some wiped off their sweat with the back of their hands, some visibly relaxed their shoulders, others cheered.

"You did great, kid, you'll make a great operations officer." She assured, "Boss'll be proud of you". You made eye contact and smiled.

"Thanks." you replied.

People in the office started moving and going in and out of the room, still cluttered but weirdly synchronized. Most of your co-workers, including you, had barely had a break since Leon's mission started. The mission was over in your department, you knew you weren't going to see Ashley since she was getting put into special custody and transferred to the White House privately and as soon as possible, but what you couldn't help but wonder was whether, if you stayed a little longer, maybe you'd actually get a chance to introduce yourself to the agent you so deeply admired. You knew Hunnigan would stay to greet him, so you figured you'd stick around, too.

Around thirty minutes had passed since the mission had officially ended. Most of your teammates had started waving goodbyes to eachother and some gave you a pat in the back for the first mission you'd participated in, even if you'd barely done anything. It made your cheeks flush. You couldn't help but smile in relief and accomplishment- your first mission had been a success after all, and everyone looked pleased with your work.

It had been more than twenty-four hours since you'd last slept.

That said, after most people left, Hunnigan wanted to give you some constructive criticism. You pushed through your burning desire to fall asleep right there and then, in your chair, but you listened attentively to what she had to say, bullet-pointing her advice in a notepad while sipping on some black coffee that had gone cold hours ago. Ten minutes flew by and suddenly Ingrid said;

"You did great though, don't get discouraged by what I just told you, alright?"

"Not at all! Thank you." you responded gracefully.

It was now 1:00 a.m. and the only people you could see around you were some of your colleagues organizing paperwork for tomorrow morning, your boss- who was roaming around the room while double-checking some of the reports, and Ingrid Hunnigan, sitting next to you.

In an instant, you heard a hoarse voice call out in a cheer;

"Hey! Look who's home!" It was your boss, you heard heavy footsteps before you saw him- Leon Kennedy had entered through the door opposite to you. They shook hands, and Leon returned him a weak smile. You stared for maybe a second too long, he looked beat up, even after recieving urgent medical attention, some of the bandages were already stained red. His attire was dirty and he held his jacket over his shoulder. His gaze looked strained, but not defeated.

You caught yourself eavesdropping, listening to your boss ask him how he was, to which Leon replied by saying "what do you think?", you chuckled. Internally, of course.

Then, you returned your gaze to Hunnigan, who grinned in his direction.

"Glad to see you back", she called out

"Glad to be back", he gave her a half smile, walking over to you.

"Leon, this is our newest Operations Support Specialist". Hunnigan introduced your name and explained how you aimed for a position like hers. You stood up so fast that you almost tripped over- you were sure that if you hadn't caught yourself in time, you would've fallen, and you'd have taken the chair with you. Leon chuckled.

"Easy." he joked, offering you his hand, "Leon Kennedy." He squeezed your hand, but it was gentle. "So, you've helped keep me alive, huh?" He offered you a smile, and you couldn't understand how after everything he'd just gone through, he still had time to be this friendly. Still, you appreciated it.

"Yeah.. well. Thanks, I still have a lot to learn." You were flustered, and you were sure it was obvious, so you looked down awkwardly as to avoid eye contact.

" 'M sure you'll do great.", Leon said confidently, and looked at Ingrid for backup.

"That's right.", she confirmed, "keep it up."

You gave a geniuine smile. Neither of you spoke for a moment that felt too long. In a desperate attempt to make conversation, your eyes darted to the bandages on his wrist.

"That sprain looks like it hurts.", you said, although immediately you realized how inherently stupid that comment was, Leon smiled.

"Yeah, well...", he glanced briefly at the wraps, then back at you, and in a soft chuckle, said; "Comes with the job."

A beat passed, you smiled.

"How'd you know?", he asked.

"Huh?... 'm sorry-" you mumbled in confusion- and in fatigue.

"That it was a sprain." , he grinned and you would've sworn he looked amused.

"Oh. Right! My mom was a nurse.", your eyes revealed dark eyebags as you looked up to meet his gaze, which softened.

"Well, I better head home. I was gonna call a cab to bring me home and I haven't yet so I should get going, I'll see you tom-", you almost finished your sentence before Hunnigan interrupted you.

"You're calling a cab?", she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, I didn't bring my car, I suspected I was gonna be too tired to drive." you had an apologetic look on your face.

"Listen, Leon and I are being driven. I don't want you to wait outside at 1:00 a.m.", she then asked Leon if it was okay if you came with them since you were headed the same direction.

"Yeah, works for me." he answered, you hesitated.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to-"

"It's fine." Hunnigan insisted.

"O-Okay.", you quickly gathered your notepad and put it in your backpack, which sat at your feet, and followed them into the lift. None of you really bothered to make conversation anymore.

Inside the elegant, black SUV, Leon sat in the passenger's seat. Meanwhile, you and Hunnigan took a seat behind. Despite her shaking hands, pale lips and the blue and purple tones which colored her undereyes, she was flipping through documents calmly. You were directly behind Leon and you saw him lean his arm on the window, then rest his head in his palm. Nonetheless, you could see through the rearview mirror that his vision was fixed on the road.

"Leon, don't forget to be on time at the office tomorrow.", she broke the silence, still staring at the files that rested in her hands. In response, Leon groaned -quietly- but loud enough for us to hear. "We still need you to tell us all the information you compiled.", she continued.

"Yes, ma'am.", he replied: half whisper, half sigh. Leon wasn't required to be present in the office most of the time, just the few weeks after a mission that involved him. Since this was your first mission, which also involved him, tomorrow would be the first day that you'd be working directly with him, and your stomach couldn't help but flutter at that thought. Sleep should've come easily that night, yet your mind kept wandering to tomorrow morning.

1664 words

Ch. 2

That morning, you felt so eager about working at the office that you even arrived a little early; 8:45 a.m.

As you went up the lift, the familiar smell of cleaning products greeted you. You took a deep breath before walking into the harshly-lit room, white walls, grey floors, yet no one was sat down. Everyone was gathered in small groups, and in the distance, you could hear the whirring of the capsule coffee machine.

"Good morning.", you politely announced while walking in, hanging your bag in the backrest of your chair. Then, you calmly made your way into the break room. You heard small groups of people chat, gathered around the corners, some were having breakfast while others sipped on a paper cup. You suddenly heard one of your coworkers approach you as you waited for another of your colleagues to finish making her coffee.

"You did really well yestarday."

"Oh. Thanks, Mark." you gave him a sweet smile, making your way over to the capsule machine. "I really enjoy this job." you continued.

"Yeah. The pay could be better, though.", he joked. You laughed.

"Well, I'll see you later." you said as you walked out the glass door with the coffee now in your hands.

You caught yourself eyeing the entrance every now and then. Now, the sound of chatter was replaced by then familiar hum of the computers which definitely needed to be replaced.

Now, Hunnigan was there. You smiled at her. Everybody started sitting down at their computers and logging into their accounts. You took out a notepad, a ball-point pen and your bottle of water as you slipped into your seat. Hot coffee still in your hand. Hunnigan sat next to you.

As you switched on your computer, you slightly squinted your eyes at the sudden glow- you looked through your inbox but it was all just routine mail. As soon as you saw the clock hit 9 a.m., Hunnigan shouted out:

"Alright, I need everyone prepared for debriefing in 3 minutes."

She sat with her legs crossed, her look steady. She was so calm, so prepared.

Then, the elevator doors opened, and Leon stepped foot inside the deparment.

"You're late." joked Hunnigan. Leon didn't bother to answer, he just chuckled in response. You stared for maybe a bit too long; his hair looked damp, his clothes were perfectly ironed, and perfectly fitted. Despite his refreshing smell, his face still looked tired and parts of his skin were tainted black and blue. You saw the bandage around his wrist, again, as he took his jacket and shrugged it off him, hanging it in his chair just like you had done before. He took a seat, then suddenly, his pale blue eyes locked with yours, he'd sat right across from Hunnigan. Too close to you for your own good.

"Morning." He grinned, your face lit up with joy.

"M-Morning." You politely returned the greeting. It was strange seeing him in a place so ordinary.

Everyone was perfectly attentive, taking notes, roaming through documents, running unwanted files through the shredder. Leon slowly answered all the questions everyone had in careful detail. People were filling in the gaps bit by bit, writing down their theories in messy, sloppy handwriting. His voice was broad and loud enough for everybody to hear, every single syllable made your heart race just a little bit more than it should've. You brushed it off.

Even though you had already sat at your table for two hours, you and your team were nowhere near the end. In fact, Leon had just begun to mention his first encounter with Luis Serra. Your eyes lit up at the mention of his name. You tried to recall everything he said in the mission about him, every little detail.

"Luis Serra...Didn't you say he was a researcher at Umbrella?" you pointed out, eyes wider than they normally were, your jaw a slight bit more tense.

"Yes." Leon replied.

"Which means, maybe there's a connection... Between that and... The events of Racoon city.", your volume dropped once you said the final words. You weren't sure what- but something in Leon's expression switched, just like yours did whenever someone mentioned the outbreak. He stared at you for maybe half a second more than he usually did. It was subtle, but you noticed.

"Yes, that's exactly my thoughts.", added Hunnigan.

"Yeah. I thought so too." said Leon.

"While assisting you on the mission we couldn't afford the time to find out much about him... let's see what we can find out now.", continued Ingrid. Her tone loud and clear, but her fingers worked faster than her vocie; already typing onto her search bar.

The intelligence team rushed back to their computers, each working individually, but the end product, synchronized, as always. You admired how they worked, wondered if you would ever be good enough for this team. You'd only worked here for a month, but you felt you'd made decent progress. The pay was still very low, so you hoped to get promoted soon- you quickly focused back on the debriefing, as one missed detail could cost many lives.

You and your team worked for a few more hours, until the picture started becoming more clear. There was still loads of work to do, and lots of sorting out. But you didn't mind that, organizing was your favourite bit. Before you could tell, you heard Hunnigan's voice suddenly announce that we were taking a 30-minute lunch break. Everyone hurried to different parts of the floor, since there were a couple different small break rooms with a few tables, coffee machines, microwaves... You watched as your colleagues slid out their packed lunches from their bags, and you did so too. You hadn't made any close friends yet, so you made your way over to a smaller room which only disposed of a microwave, a countertop with an old sink and a kettle, a vending machine on the left, and finally, some instant coffee that someone had once left. You weren't sure when, but that jar had been there since the very first day at the office. Sometimes, when you didn't have the energy to have shallow conversations about the weather and your plans for the weekend, you'd just have lunch there and go on your phone.

You stared absentmindedly at the kettle, waiting for the water to turn hot enough for you to pour some instant coffee in it, leaving you alone with the quiet flicker of a malfuntioning light and the hum of an overworked fan above you. A moment later, someone opened the door and headed for the vending machine, typing numbers into the pad. It was the man you'd been glancing at non-stop since last night. At the same time, you began pouring the water -that was now too hot- in your cup, and stirring in the powder with a wooden stick. Time seemed to slow as your eyes wandered to him once again, you saw him flinch as he attempted to grab a protein snack with his bandaged hand which the machine had spat out.

"Still hurts?", you manage to build up the courage to ask. Leon flexed his fingers slightly.

"A little." he replied.

"Sprains can be very stubborn." you said as you started opening your tupper and getting out your silverware.

"Yeah..." he smiled faintly. "Could've been worse. I'll be alright." he chuckled, and you did too.

"Tell me about it. When I was around 7, I fell off a chair and sprained my wrist pretty bad... I wasn't a very bright kid." you laughed soflty, that nervous type of laughter. A warm smile crept on Leon's lips.

"I went far too long without getting it checked out, and when I finally did, the doctor told me there was nothing that could be done about it anymore." you continued on explaining.

"Jesus... How long did you wait?" he was still smiling as you took the first bite out of your chicken salad.

"uh...", you finished swallowing. "Couple years..." as you looked away, a bright red colour showed through your cheeks.

"Couple years?" Leon paused. "Yeah, doesn't surprise me." He took a couple steps in your direction and he rested his hip on the counter, while you leaned your back against the wall.

"Still hurts whenever it gets too cold." you added, and then took a sip out of what had become the third coffee you'd had today. He smiled as he watched you take the sip. The room went quiet for an instance.

"...Where'd you grow up?", the question took you by surprise, you stirred your coffee.

"Raccoon city." the words escaped your lips and you smiled, softly. He turned his head the slightest bit, almost unnoticeable.

"...You were there?" his words felt heavy in your heart, so heavy that your head nodded for you before words could come out.

"Yeah." you managed to say, both of you stayed silent as your chest tightened. Leon looked at the food in his hand.

"I get it." , he sighed. His tone was comforting and you felt slightly warm inside, despite the room, which usually made you get the chills.

"Do you want a coffee? I'll pour you one." you offered, breaking the silence. He looked at your cup before looking back at your now glistening eyes.

"I'd love that, thanks." Neither of you spoke for a moment while you poured hot water into a cup and mixed it with the coffee.

"There. It's not exactly fancy, but oh well." you joked. "Do you want any sugar? I always carry those little salt and sugar packets in my bag." He looked at you for a second, amused.

"I'll pass.", he grinned before scanning the empty room with his eyes. "You always hide in here?"

"Not hiding!" you protested with a laugh. "-It's just, I've just been here for a month, almost. I wouldn't want to... I don't know. I guess I don't really know anyone yet." you sighed. Leon nodded, taking another sip.

"Fair enough." he replied, "but I think you're a great fit for the job."

"You really think so?" the way your eyes instantly looked up caught Leon's attention.

"'Course.", he said. Your eyelashes fluttered, and in that second, you forgot about the coffee in your hands. Or anything else, for that matter.

"Thank you. Really.", you looked back at the cup, with the biggest smile you've had in days. His large figure was supposed to be intimidating, but you could only feel comfort when being next to him. Then, you took a big bite out of your salad when you realized the only thing he'd been munching on the whole conversation was a protein bar that didn't look exactly great, so you asked him if that was all he'd be having for lunch.

"Yeah. Guess my mom forgot to pack my lunch."

You tilted your head the tiniest bit.

"That was a joke." he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Right." you laughed at yourself, embarrassed. "Sorry."

Suddenly, a voice interrupted;

"Kennedy, sorry to cut your break short but I need you at your desk in 3'" Hunnigan popped in to say.

"Yes, ma'am. On it." he tossed the wrapper and the cup into the bin and turned back to you; "See you later."

See you later, he said, and the words replayed in your mind before you could answer back.

"See you!"

As his footsteps went quieter, you continued having lunch in silence. The rest of the day was filled with more confusing documents, debriefing, and the sound of paper being printed. As the end of the day approached, you couldn't help but feel like tomorrow wouldn't be nearly as intimidating as any of the previous days at the office.

1971 words

Ch. 3

That morning felt familiar. You felt more secure within your environment, more included, less afraid to speak up. In your bag hid two cookies for dessert. Not one, two. You weren't planning on eating both.

You followed your routine, pointed out details in Leon's debriefing, helped your co-workers organize their individual reports, since you weren't required to make one yourself. You skimmed through documents which seemed endless while you scribbled onto your notepad what you considered the most useful. And sometimes, caught yourself re-reading the same paragraph about thirty times because "you hadn't been focused enough the last time." All routine stuff. Glancing at Leon had become part of that routine, too. He was also always first to wish you a good morning. Even when you wanted to say it first, you waited to see if he'd acknowledge your presence first. You'd even stopped stuttering whenever you said it back. The harsh lighting hadn't become any less bright, though.

For the past three days he'd started coming into the little break room where you usually ate lunch, you shared shallow conversations which sometimes almost slipped to deeper talk, but they never quite did. He had never stayed for very long, though. Leon ate what he could, before someone inevitably came to pull him away five minutes into lunch.  You thought that maybe you'd appreciate the silence, but you didn't. You wished he stayed for the full thirty minutes.

And then, finally, after your mind had been overwhelmed with information for almost four hours, Hunnigan called for lunch break. The office felt lighter yet louder in playful chatter and conversations. You'd gotten caught up staring blankly at the ground for a minute.

"Oh thank god." you whispered to yourself, stomach grumbling.

"What was that?" Leon said from behind. He towered over your body, still sat down, and you turned in your office chair to look at him.

"Shit! You almost gave me a heart attack..." you put a hand over your chest. "Sorry, I zoned out for a second there."

"You reckon? Wow. Never would've guessed." He chuckled. "Mind if I join you for lunch?"

"What if I say no?" you snarked as you started grabbing your lunch and your water bottle.

"You wouldn't.", he had purposefully put a smug look on his face, and you could only scoff and smile at his exaggerated attitude.

Both of you made your way into your now favorite room. It was nice having someone to talk to at the office. Finally. Even if it was only five minutes. You'd take it. Everyone else at the office was either nine to thirty-something years older than you. Not that it was the main problem, though. The fact that most of them already had established friend groups made you feel fearful of bothering or interrupting anything. Besides, it's not like they talked about stuff you could relate to, anyways.

But Leon was...fun. And you didn't have to relate to what the other was talking about in order to have a fulfilling conversation. There were two chairs stacked up in the corner of the small room, and as Leon stepped in, he arranged them for them to be facing eachother; "There we go." he grunted as he had picked up the chairs only with his good hand.

"Thanks." you replied as you began to unpack your lunch. There was no table, so you'd set your bottle of water on the floor. "I don't know why I've been having lunch standing up this whole time when I could've just done that."

"Yeah. I don't know either." he chuckled as he opened a tupper of rice, broccoli and grilled chicken.

"No protein bar today?" you raised an eyebrow.

"No. But honestly this doesn't look much more appetizing." he took a bite just after he said that.

"You think you'll be able to inhale that before someone comes looking for you?" you teased, it was almost an accusation.

"They better not, I asked them to not interrupt me this time. I do not enjoy staring at a computer screen for eight hours straight every day, believe it or not." oddly, you felt touched by that action, even if it had nothing to do with you. You chuckled instead.

"You seem to eat very little for someone who's so physically active. The fact that you stay after five to work out at the training department is just brutal. I could never.", you pointed out while he munched on a piece of dry chicken breast.

"I don't eat very little. I order takeout very often. I have very big dinners, and I'm a huge snacker, too. Either way, do you think I look starved?" you laughed at his joke while he swallowed. "Actually... after office hours I enjoy training." you smiled and nodded while he rambled on about how much it clears his mind and helps him stay focused.

Then, for a moment none of you spoke, instead, you both ate quietly.

"I overheard some of the women in the team talk about you this morning." He suddenly spoke up.

"Oh. What'd they say?" you managed to mumble before swallowing.

"That it was refreshing to see someone so young work so hard.", as he said that, you looked for some gesture that could indicate you that he was joking. But there was no trace of sarcasm. You smiled in satisfaction as a response. "I don't think people here feel bothered by you as much as you say they are."

"I know they aren't. It's just..." you looked at him instead of finishing your sentence.

"How old are you anyway?" he asked.

"I'm twenty-one." you said while you stabbed some of your pasta salad with your fork.

"Huh..." That was all he said. He casually continued eating but you stared at him for a bit more.

"What?" you chuckled. "Too young for this job?"

"Young. Not too young." he answered back. "You're good at what you do.", the room went quiet but a smile crept in your face. "What made you join?" he continued.

For a second, you considered telling him the truth. About Raccoon City. About your mom. About everything that happened afterwards.

But no. Not yet. Instead, you swallowed.

"Well, I knew I wanted to work somewhere like this." you twirled your fork between your fingers. "I...I would have loved a job like yours." Leon raised an eyebrow in response, while smirking. "But I don't think I'm built for field work. I'm not that strong, nor that agile... I'm good at this, organizing, polishing, planning. Making things make sense.", you smiled to yourself. "I really admire people who work as field agents."

"I admire people who still think this job's worth doing." he leaned back, and fed himself another bite. You blinked.

"You don't?"

"I didn't say that." he grinned.

"You're not great with questions, you know that?" you teased, looking right into his eyes.

"Just with the ones I don't want to answer." he teased back.

"Fine." you answered in defeat. You finally finished your pasta salad. "Oh! I almost forgot" -you didn't. Carefully, you opened the bottom compartment of your lunch box and took out two chocolate-chip cookies. You slid one between the gap of your chairs as he finished taking his last bite.

"Thanks. That's nice.", the subtle comment brought you joy. You watched as he took a bite out of the cookie, "You made these?" he mumbled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand while he chewed.

"Oh, no. I stopped at the gas station this morning and thought I'd get a little something." you explained.

"...Thank god." his expression visibly relaxed, then he gulped. You burst out in some genuine laghter.

"Excuse me?" you managed to say between a giggle.

"...They're awful." he said. You laughed slightly harder at his reaction, which got you some quiet chuckle as a response.

"They're-" you couldn't finish the sentence since you found the situation too amusing. "They're.." you took a deep breath. "They're not awful!" you struggled to say, wiping a tear that had just begun to form at the corner of your eye with your index finger.

"They are. Trust me. Go on, take a bite." you followed through with what he said, smiling ear to ear. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to convince yourself that they were not that bad.

"Oh my god you are so dramatic! They're not.. They're not that bad." you tried your best to contain your laugh, even though Leon was clearly finding it hilarious.

"I don't know what I would've told you if you'd made them." he joked, smiling warmly at you.

"You think you would've lied?" you held your stomach as you tried to calm yourself down from how much you'd just laughed. Leon crossed his arms and looked to the side, then he looked at the cookie, still smiling. "You totally would have!" you continued and chuckled again, trying to contain yourself.

"I have manners, you know?" he shrugged.

"I can actually bake." you stated, Leon stared like he didn't know what to believe. "...Better than this." you continued.

"Yeah... One would hope so." he laughed softly as he said so.

"Much better than this!" you argued.

"Good." he replied, taking another bite as if he were to give the cookie another chance.

"Good?" you questioned, and tilted your head slightly as you sat back properly on the chair.

"Meaning next time you bake I wouldn't mind getting a taste." he chewed his way through the dry cookie.

"Sure, I'll bring you a batch." you answered truthfully.

"Glad to hear that." he took another big bite.

"You know you don't have to eat it." you pointed out, kicking his leg softly with your shoe.

"It's better than the protein bar." he explained, you chuckled.

"I'm definitely not eating mine, do you want it?" you held the cookie towards him.

"I'll pass" he said, so you stood up to throw the cookie in the bin besides the vending machine, as he took the last bite of the cookie. "You know when we drove past your house the day I came from the mission?"

"Mhm?" you answered back, he wiped off the crumbs from his hands and you walked over to the counter to make you each a cup of coffee. This time you didn't even ask if he wanted one.

"Do you rent or do you own?"

"I rent, of course. I moved there when I got the job. I struggle a bit to pay rent and gas but I'm hoping I get promoted soon. They told me this first stage of the job couldn't last for more than 3 months." You explained, pouring the hot water from the kettle.

"That makes sense." He said. You weren't facing him, busy measuring coffee into the two paper cups.

"Sugar?" you asked, eyes still focused on the coffee. Leon hadn't answered, you looked back at him and he almost immediately took his eyes off you. You didn't comment on it, but you had noticed.

"...No." he replied.

"Do you live alone?" you asked. Just casual. Just making conversation. Or that's what you'd told yourself.

"Yeah."

"Do you like it?" you asked, pretending like you hadn't taken his reply more seriously than he intended.

"It's alright. Gets a little quiet sometimes, but it's fine." he shrugged, you stirred both your coffees.

"Yeah, I get it." You said, walking over to him and handed him his coffee, while he muttered a little 'thank you'.  "I like the quiet though. It kinda reminds me of when I was a kid. It was just me and my mom so it was never really loud." you explained.

"Give it a few years." he laughed, you did too.

"You're probably right." you said, sitting down yourself.

"I know I am." you scoffed at his words.

For the remaining five minutes of your break, conversation drifted from one pointless topic to another. The printer on the third floor that had been giving Leon problems since he started working here. The terrible grainy coffee that had become part of your routine. He complained about paperwork like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him, while you argued that they were incredibly satisfying to organise. He looked at you like you'd just admitted to commiting a hate crime. You laughed.

Your eyes wandered as he talked. You noticed how when his arms were crossed or when he mindlessly lifted the paper cup to his lips, his arms flexed, and his tactical shirt hugged his broad shoulders beautifully, stretching the fabric with every small move. You looked away before he noticed.

Neither of you had noticed the time when someone knocked on the glass door.

"Guys, break was over three minutes ago. Come on." she said as she hurried out of the room.

"Guess that's our cue." Leon said, and groaned as he stood up from the chair. You followed him into the hallway after gathering up your lunchbox and both of you went quietly returned to work for the day.

2174 words

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The only source of light in the girl's room was the glow from the television. But she wasn’t focused on it. Her mind was full of countless thoughts and voices. Not that she even liked romantic comedies that much. She would watch them occasionally, forced by her friends, but they never really interested her. Her eyes stared blankly at the screen, her consciousness drifting in and out. Suddenly, she looked at the thing in her hand. It was a photo of her mother and father. She sighed as she stared at it. She had barely known them—never even seen them alive. All she knew about them came from this photo and the stories her nanny used to tell. She had been young. So young when she lost them. Back then, she couldn’t quite grasp what had happened, but as she grew older, she felt their absence more deeply.

Her friends always complained about their own families, saying how lucky she was, but she never felt lucky. Her parents hadn’t died a natural death. They had been murdered—brutally, savagely, by monstrous forces. Every time she thought about it, she felt like losing her mind. What had been done to them couldn’t go unpunished. She had been chasing revenge for a long time now, but she still didn’t understand where those strange creatures came from. They seemed like part of some scientific experiment. Though she didn’t have much information, she had heard of what happened in Raccoon City a long time ago. She had watched videos of the dead rising and attacking people over and over again. It was... extraordinary.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the photo. A few had already fallen. There was no point in being this weak. If she stayed weak, she’d never uncover the truth. If she stayed weak, she’d never get her revenge. She wiped her tears from her face slowly. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to feel anything—and she didn’t want to. If she did, she might forget what she had to do. Her conscience might take over. Because she had a kind heart. Too kind. And she was afraid. Yes, she still feared thunderstorms and hesitated to join her friends in haunted houses because she’d be laughed at. She was ashamed of how weak and scared she was.

But she had found a way out. She knew exactly what she needed to do the moment she graduated from university. Her nanny had told her everything before she passed. The girl stood up from her seat to review the documents she had prepared and the information she had gathered. She looked at the photo one last time, folded it a few times, and slipped it into her jeans pocket. Then she headed toward the study almost at a run. Her eyes fell on the calendar on her desk. It was the last day to submit her application, but she had already prepared everything. Why had she waited until the last minute? Because applying meant putting her life in danger. She knew it wouldn’t be easy to be there, and she wanted to prove she was worthy.

Hurriedly, she opened her already-on laptop and entered her archive. There, she had stored all the information she had—about her feelings, about her parents, about the place they used to work, even about her nanny. She had made a smart choice keeping them hidden.

DSO. Perhaps it was just a stepping stone to discovering the truth behind her family’s death. But it also harbored greater dangers. Was she truly ready to become a ruthless, emotionless person? To get her hands dirty working for the government—when she hadn’t even recovered her parents’ bodies? She wasn’t sure. No one is born a killer, after all. But she also knew she had to get used to those feelings. She had to be ruthless, heartless—and someone, somewhere had to make her feel that way. That’s all she wanted. Then why did thinking about it still hurt so much? Why did her chest burn?

After checking everything one last time, she took a deep breath and opened her email. Her hands trembled as she uploaded the application form, but she still couldn’t hit send.

“Get a grip. You have to make them pay. This is the only way you’ll ever find out what really happened,” she whispered to herself.

Was she ready to live the real world? Or what even was “life”? Just a void, filled with cruelty and heartlessness.

She suddenly hit the send button. Then leaned back and shut her eyes tightly. Her body was stiff with stress. Realizing this, she stood and walked to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help.

Few days later

She hadn’t expected to be called this quickly, of course—but she hadn’t thought it would be too difficult either. They needed young people. Fast, agile, clever people who could run from one place to another. When she got the call a few days later, she hesitated at first. But it was too late to back down. She had made a choice—and she had to stay loyal to it forever. For her parents. For the innocent lives lost. For their families.

The voice on the phone was unclear at first. She even thought it was a scam. But then the line cleared, and they gave her a location. She was to go there—they would pick her up. That’s when she knew. Her application had been accepted. She had to pull herself together quickly.

To ease her loneliness and avoid suppressing her emotions, she shut the curtains tightly. She checked once more to make sure the windows were locked. Then she headed to the kitchen. It was a small but cozy space that opened to a tiny garden. Whenever she was stressed, happy, or going through exam weeks, she’d spend time there. But now, one question haunted her: would this be the last time she saw her home?

She shook off the thought quickly. If they were coming to get her, she had to be ready. She rushed to the bedroom, packed everything she needed, slipped her laptop into her backpack—and then she was ready. Or at least she thought so. Should she even take the laptop? What if they found out what she was researching? She shook her head. She needed it.

Luckily, the place where they were picking her up was within walking distance—just half an hour away. But that didn’t bother her. She loved walking. When she read that 10,000 steps a day was ideal for weight loss, she’d thought that number was too low.

Before stepping out, she turned around and looked at her little home one last time. Maybe it was her last day here. Or maybe better, happier moments were waiting for her.

It wasn’t hard for them to find her. Or rather, it could be said she found them easily. She got into the car without asking any questions. It was obvious they wouldn’t have answers anyway. They were just drivers.

She had no idea how much time had passed when they finally arrived. Her thoughts had taken over. When the car stopped and she moved to grab her bags, the man gently stopped her.

“Your belongings will be brought to your room later.”

At first, she was relieved not to carry everything herself. But she needed her laptop.

“Thanks, I think I just—”

“All your items need to be inspected. You weren’t told?”

She shook her head quickly. On the phone, they had only discussed where to pick her up.

“No, I was just—”

But the man walked toward the building, ignoring her. She stared after him, stunned. Why had he been so annoyed by her trying to explain? Whatever. She followed. Hopefully, they wouldn’t check her laptop too closely.

The DSO headquarters looked exactly how a government-linked facility should look—cold and orderly. Metal detectors, ID scanners, high ceilings, and security cameras embedded in the walls gave the place a sterile, watchful atmosphere. She kept her hands in her coat pockets, still clutching the photo inside. When the front desk officer told her to wait, her face was expressionless—but inside, a storm was raging.

"There’s no going back now," she thought.

Each step took her further from her past and closer to a future full of uncertainty.

After giving her name, the system recognized her, and an officer escorted her to the elevator. As they ascended, the city skyline came into view through the glass walls—but her eyes didn’t linger. Her thoughts were elsewhere. This was... the first step.

When she exited the elevator, there was a desk and a man in a suit behind it. He gave her a calculated look, then started asking questions: her name, age, education, past.

“What did you do before this?”

“Why do you want to become an agent?”

“Do you know how to use a gun? How are you with knives? What’s your physical endurance level?”

The questions came fast. She answered honestly, hiding nothing—neither what she knew nor what she didn’t. The man nodded. Then said with a faint, cold smile:

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn much more here... and not just learn—you’ll be forced to.”

Her throat went dry. A chill ran down her spine. But she didn’t back down.

He handed her a card: “Accepted – Rookie ID #4937.”

She stared at it. Her name and photo, with the DSO hologram gleaming beneath.

“Your room is in Block D,” the man said. “That’s where the rookies stay.”

She gripped the card, rubbing its edge with her thumb. She tucked it next to her parents’ photo in her pocket and started walking. The corridor felt heavier now. Her footsteps echoed on the metal floor, racing her heartbeat. The building reeked of seriousness. Windowless, gray-toned halls, surveillance at every corner. Everyone moved fast, silent, focused.

Block D was simpler—smaller rooms, plainer walls. It was for the ones still being prepared. Yet the air was still stern. She opened her room door.

“Oh! You’re finally here!”

A cheerful, warm voice greeted her. She looked up to see a smiling girl.

Blonde, long, slightly wavy hair falling over her shoulders. Bright blue eyes. An athletic but graceful build.

“I’m Lara! Your roommate. Welcome to... the DSO, hell, or whatever this place is!”

The girl smiled and dropped her bag.

“I guess... nice to meet you,” she replied.

Lara jumped onto the bed, spinning with her arms out. “If you get emotional here, they’ll eat you alive. But don’t worry, I’ll be your shield. Promise!”

As they unpacked, jokes and laughter filled the room. They giggled over mixed-up laundry and mock-fought over bathroom turns. For a moment, everything felt easier.

“Wanna go eat?” Lara said. “If you’re not fully grounded in reality yet, the cafeteria will do the job.”

The cafeteria was big and crowded. People ate quickly or observed each other quietly. When Lara’s laughter echoed, a few turned to look. One table even chuckled.

“Sweet little agents have arrived,” someone muttered.

The girl heard it. Lara heard it too—but she just rolled her eyes. The girl tried not to show it, but it bothered her. She wasn’t a child anymore. She wasn’t playing. She had to prove she truly belonged here.

As they sat, Lara stirred her food with a fork.

“Now… there’s Nathan, for example. Agent Nathan. Think of him as the top of the class. Super handsome, super fast, incredible shot. Everyone wants to be paired with him.”

“Really?” the girl raised a brow.

“You’ll see. His face, eyes, posture… but he’s disciplined too. Not just a pretty face.”

“And... Leon? You mentioned him a lot.”

Lara paused. Her tone turned serious.

“Leon… is another level. He’s like a shadow. Always on missions. Sometimes vanishes for weeks. But… he’s one of the heroes of Raccoon City.”

“What do you mean ‘one of the heroes’?”

Lara opened her mouth to reply—but an announcement echoed:

“All rookies report to Hall 3 for senior assignments.”

Her heart sped up. Her stomach twisted.

“I hope I get Nathan…” Lara said.

Hall 3 was wide. The high ceiling amplified every step. Everyone lined up, waiting. Then the doors opened—and more than a hundred agents walked in, dressed in black suits and tactical gear. Only one stood out. Nathan Silvain. Just as Lara described—striking face, green eyes, blonde hair. He walked confidently to the center, saluted the others.

The girl couldn’t help but wonder: Nathan is here... but who is Leon? She scanned the room, but no one fit Lara’s “shadow” description.

Names were called. She barely listened—until Lara’s came up.

“Lara Madsen – Agent Nathan Silvain.”

Lara’s eyes lit up. She smiled and squeezed the girl’s hand.

Then it was her turn.

“(Reader’s name) – Agent Leon S. Kennedy.”

A murmur spread. Leon wasn’t present. Everyone else had matched. Lara gave her a bittersweet smile and left with Nathan. The girl stood alone.

Then... the doors opened.

There he was. A shadow made flesh.

Leon walked in with tired eyes, slow steps. His outfit was disheveled, leather jacket worn. The yellowish light sharpened his features. Dark circles, stubble, exhaustion clinging to him.

And... the smell of alcohol reached all the way across the hall.

The girl didn’t flinch at first. She even thought, "Is this really him?" But as he neared, something inside her trembled.

He wasn’t just tired. Leon looked like he had seen the world.

And as he stood before her, staring into her eyes, he said:

“You didn’t come here to survive. I’ll teach you survival—but first, you’ll be broken. You’d better start getting used to it.”

No handshake. No eye contact.