It was a slow day, and one could only assume that things would only become worse when the sun fell and gave way to the darkness. The reports were far and few between, being nothing more than simple problems. Some punks shop-lifting, a call of domestic disturbance, and other small-time issues were the only problems today so far. The patrols were taking care of the roads, and the street cops were minding the traffic and parking violations. There was… absolutely nothing to do. As sapphire eyes landed upon the crayon drawing that had been placed in a small black frame that stood upon his desk, the mournful expression was all too obvious. The image was of the officer, his younger brother Chris, and Count D. A small sigh passed between his lips, his cheek cradled in the palm of his hand, his free fingers drumming on the laminate of his desk to some tune that played only within his head. In fact, it didn't even have a proper tempo; it was just senseless drumming, induced only from the boredom. The crayon doodle was of what only Chris used to be able to see in that man's mysterious pet shop… the animals, who really had a human-like form. Chris used to be able to see those animals in their true form, but that was when he refused to speak. The instant he began to speak, Chris had lost his innocence that had allowed him to be one with the Count's world. Leon, on the other hand… being an officer of the law, a chain-smoker and borderline alcoholic, always saw nothing but flea-bitten beasts, which did nothing to appease the Count, who ran the shop with the utmost care.
Leon's eyes traveled up slowly to the ceiling, staring at the fluorescent bulbs, one of them flickering and gently buzzing as it's life was draining. There was a small moth up there, beating itself senselessly against the bulb, so seduced that it could not control itself. "Those bulbs must be burning it, every single time." Leon mumbled to himself under his breath, frowning just slightly with his brows furrowing together. If the Count was here… that silly man would have probably hopped right up on the desks, probably doing his best to stand even on the computer monitor to reach that moth to save it. Silly little prick. Leon thought to himself, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted in his seat, sitting upright and then leaning back, his hands dragging through his locks of blonde hair before his fingers locked together on the back of his head, as if they were the only force holding his head up. Leon took one more longing glance at the drawing his little brother had made, which was folded in half in both directions, and slightly burnt around the edges as his mind drifted back to the last day he saw the Chinese man.
That day was simply…. Insane. Everything had happened so quickly, it was like a hurricane, with meeting D's father and having to fight for his life in that bastard's 'Eden', and then before Leon even knew it, the building was burning and…. Leon's eyes traveled back to the moth, thinking of how hot the flames were, and how the bulb must be just as hot to that stupid insect. Leon; bloodied, injured, barely able to stand on his own, and the stupid man, D, had the balls to try and help him, dragging Leon up a strange set of stairs to get out of the flames before the two leapt for the sky. Leon felt a knot in his stomach as the images played over and over in his head, and before he knew it, he was staring that stupid bitch in the face, who had just gone and shoved him over the side of that strange vessel that was the shop. Frowning, Leon raked his fingers through his hair again. The more and more he had thought about it in the hospital… the more and more he had realized that he had actually seen that bastard with a tear down his face.
Standing up suddenly, Leon grabbed his jacket and the picture frame, leaving the office to the astonishment of the other workers, who were wondering just where the man was heading off to in such a rush. It was still slow… nothing was going on!
At the officer's apartment, Leon threw the picture frame on to his beaten couch, which the frame just bounced harmlessly and landed safely upon the cushion. For hours, the man just wandered his apartment, organizing what he could. Looking to his walls, he found a thumbtack with a small corner of a poster still left behind when the Count had gone crazy and started cleaning his apartment. As karma, D broke one of his fruity nails, and Leon smirked as he held the tiny fragment of paper between his thumb and forefinger, looking over both sides before he finally threw it out. Why did it seem that everything in this apartment needed to remind him of that man? For two years, Leon knew that bastard, who had broken so many goddamned laws, but somehow managed to slither his way out of every problem that arose. It seemed that for almost nearly every day, that Count was a part of his life, and now that he was gone, everything reminded Leon of who used to be here, and now who was nothing more than a coward; having fled Los Angeles… hell, probably America also. That slimy bastard… Such a goddamned piece of shit. - always running! Leon glared at his wall before he placed the side of his fist gently against it, staring off at the dull paint for a minute or two before he finally pulled himself away and walked straight to his phone and automatically dialed the number to the pet shop as he plopped himself down upon the couch, his eyes falling upon the picture once again as the dial tone began to buzz.
Once… twice…. Three times. Leon kept waiting, knowing the Count hated technology, and wouldn't have an answering machine. All he had to do was just sit and wait until that bastard either woke up for once, even though it was four in the afternoon, or at least answer. It wasn't as if he had caller ID, anyways. He wouldn't know it was Leon, right? He couldn't be psychic, too. Unless he really was a freak of nature.
Suddenly, the buzzing stopped, and Leon's hearing became so utterly sensitive that he was absolutely positive he heard the gentle clatter of the phone being lifted from the base and he could even hear the sounds of animals in the background, but there was no voice. "D?" Leon barked suddenly, but there was no reply. It simply went silent, and then the phone was hung up on. Rather roughly too, as Leon's ears were ringing from how loud the phone was slammed down.
Pulling his phone from his ear, Leon stared at the device in his hand in utter disbelief. His eyes were wide, his expression pure confusion as his mind tried to piece together what the hell just happened. But once it clicked, rage flashed over his face and his arm pulled back before lashing forward; his little cellular phone being hurled across the room mercilessly before it slammed against the fridge and more or less exploded. Within moments, a string of curses and explicatives were pouring from the man's mouth both directed at the Chinese man, and his phone, even though the phone was innocent in doing anything. Once he was out of breath, his chest heaving with his heart pounding, his face red with anger and his mind slowly coming back to sanity, Leon stared at the pitiful mess of his phone before he simply sat down and held his head between his hands, his body slightly trembling. How could D simply do that to him? Why was he so angry?
Leon just couldn't understand why he felt so injured over it. It just wasn't right. That stupid bastard was gone… That stupid, frilly bastard was good and gone, forever gone from mucking up Leon's already trashed life. Leon was glad that androgynous Asian was gone! A grimace pulled at the corners of his mouth before the black frame caught his eye and he looked over before he scooted over and took the object within his hands, once again taking in the drawing.
Okay… maybe his life was a bit better with that idiot around. It was… a friend that Leon knew he could talk to… Chris loved D, also. "Jackass left this behind." He grumbled, slowly standing to his feet and unconsciously dusting off the knees of his jeans, his eyes still locked on to the slightly burnt crayon drawing. "He made such a goddamned fuss for this thing, and he left it behind." Leon muttered under his breath before a small laugh came from his throat and he went to his room and threw open his closet with a new-found gusto, immediately grabbing the dusty suitcase that was on the high shelf. Throwing it down upon his bed, the case was opened and Leon tore through his closet, stuffing his suitcase near-to-bursting before he removed the drawing from behind the glass pane and tenderly re-folded it as it had once been, and tucked it into his suitcase.
No one would understand, but Leon needed to leave that night. He needed to leave tonight, without letting anyone know, without letting anyone interrupt him and change his mind. He had to leave.