Crossing Lines: Chapter One.

Leon Kennedy had hoped that his line of work would cease, but he couldn't be more wrong. He was one of the most skilled agents around, and his knowledge about zombies and the viruses proved to be rather helpful when another virus would be released again. He had thought himself to be over with after having killed Simmons, but it didn't end there. The life of fighting would never end for him; it was a constant cycle of being called on again. It's as if he was doomed to this life, simply because he chose to stand and fight, rather than let it all slip by and perhaps even be caught dead someday. He was one of the reason that humanity still stood, and most people weren't even aware of his heroic actions that risked his life multiple times. Now he killed Arias after he attempted to release a new virus, called the A-virus, he took up on his vacation again, although he was less reluctant to fight when someone needed him to: he'd enjoy his holidays for aslong as he could until some other mad genius would get his hands on a new virus again that would threaten the existence of humanity. Leon wouldn't allow it. Not after all of this.

It was a particular rainy day when the blonde agent looked outside the window in his room in the city of New York. It was about a month after the recent events and Arias' death. The rain fell down from the sky in heavy falls and continued to drown the streets and the unfortunate people caught in the waters. His blue eyes shimmered, almost if they were made of multiple colors that constantly shifted: from blue to green, and sometimes they were lingering on both. He released a soft sigh as his breath brushed against the window, overviewing New York's cityline with weary eyes after the strenuous months. The scent of coffee slipped into his nostrils again, averting his attention to the mug of coffee he was holding, briefly distracted by the train of thoughts consuming his mind. It was often like this: either remaining alone in a room, drinking coffee, or draining away his sorrows from the past in some remote restaurant where nobody could find him. Save for a few annoying associates with the BSAA. Redfield was one of the few people Leon tolerated to bother him like that, even on his vacation. It was at rare times they got physical with eachother, but those moments were particularly personal. Either Ada's life was on the line, or the people of the BSAA Chris had failed to protect.

He brushed the thoughts away as he leaned away from the window and sank down upon his couch, taking the remote and turning the tv on. Ofcourse he was watching the news again, and he hadn't even noticed that it was in the middle of the night. Perhaps another night he couldn't sleep due to the nightmares that haunted him: the responsibilities and the guilt he had suppressed surfaced again when he tried to sleep, and some alcohol would push that away. Or the coffee would keep him awake long enough to tire himself out to the point he'd be unable to even dream at all. Eitherway, he wasn't one to abstain from this loop of constant lassitude. If he tried, he'd fall back again. But he was a stubborn man: a smart one at that, but as stubborn as a donkey, and it wouldn't be the first time someone would tell him that. Leon Kennedy was the definition of a hero: wanting to save as many as he could, even if it risked his own life during it. He'd die with a satisfied heart, atleast, or so he thought. The news wasn't really fascinating to term it: the usual rumors about celebrities, the taxes going up and the complaints about crime rates also increasing, but, atleast, there weren't any zombies or cities burning like Raccoon did. He didn't want to think of the latter again for he knew he'd probably resort to the cabinet to his far left.

Hell, the blonde wasn't even keen on hearing about all the drama in the world: he was tired of it. He advanced to the next channel on tv which was about selling products that could help one's health, such as special pills that would enhance your sight or make your food less greasy - thus consuming less fat and losing weight fast. His brows furrowed slightly at the nonsense some would be eager to believe - and they did. He blew some steam from the coffee as he took another sip, leaning forth and putting the mug down. At that moment, his phone rang. Who the hell would call him at 3 am? Maybe he was relieved to hear something that would draw his attention away from his thoughts and the annoyance on tv. The phone kept ringing as he muttered and took it from the table, sliding it open as a saved name appeared: Jake Muller. Why would he call Leon? Especially at this time, and after the events. Last he recalled, the kid went on his own way to kill zombies for paywork - or whatever he desired. He was rich now, wasn't he? He wasn't certain if Jake ever took on that offer of million he actually demanded. The agent felt confounded for a moment before he answered the call and heard Jake's voice which sounded raspy, almost as if he was enduring something bad. ''Jake Muller?'' he inquired, wanting to be sure it was actually him - and not someone who had confiscated his phone. ''Yeah, it's me. You won't believe it, but I actually need your help. Like, right now.''. The older male shook his head, his tone shifting from confusion to almost amusement and mockery. ''You do, huh? What does the rich kid need from me? Got another ex chasing you? You know only I accept people to the club.''

It was silent for a moment before a vague laughter came through. Jake was laughing at the humor of Leon, which wasn't that unusual. Their previous rare encounters, brief as they were, showed they were somewhat friendly with eachother - there was no animosity like Jake had with Chris, for obvious reasons. After the laugh came to an end, the younger man responded, although less casually. ''I'll admit, this isn't a friendly call to hangout, Kennedy. I'm in massive, -massive- shit, and you're the only one who's a reliable associate for me. And don't say 'don't give me that shit, it's not true', since it is. You remember I was out killing left over zombies in remote places? Well, turns out someone knew about it. I got lured in into this cesspit and I can't get the fuck out.'' Leon remained silent, contemplating before he nodded to himself, leaning back on his couch and replied. ''Alright, quit your begging. Give me your location and I'll get you out, kid.'' The blonde ran a hand through his blonde, brownish strands and waited for an answer, but he received none. Instead, it went silent on the other line and eventually the call ended without any more information on where the other male was and it irked at him. The BSAA had him covered, didn't they? New identity and all?

Well, shit. Apparently not good enough. The damn kid always got himself into trouble, and Leon was the last person he thought Jake would call. They weren't exactly friends, but they weren't rivals either, atleast, he never thought they were anything like it. So he called Leon, but not Chris - who actually had able people to get in and get mercenary out safely - and that felt weird. Honestly, why not Sherry? Wasn't she close to him? Maybe, maybe not, but right now he had to desist himself from thinking about the relationships Jake had with the others. He went to his contacts and called someone trustworthy. The phone took a while before the other end answered. ''..Leon? Why are you calling this late? Let me guess: you need my expertise again on tracing someone and let you know where they are.'' Before Leon could respond, he grinned as he saw her. Hunnigan. Atleast she never lost faith in him. ''Yeah. Sorry to call you at this time, but we've got a problem. Our precious guy with the anti-bodies is in trouble and I've no clue where he is. Can you trace where the call originated from?'' She grinned at him and apparently seemed to move into a room - they saw eachother's face since that is what they had set the phone's settings as. ''Hunnigan?''. Leon said again with some concern to his voice as she didn't answer instantly. ''You've really got to calm down and let me do my work, Leon. Let me see..- Oh. He's apparently in Japan - I'll send you the nav'.'' Well, atleast that was something he could work with, but he wasn't sure what would await him in Japan. ''Thanks, Hunnigan. Knew I could count on you - even this late.'' The woman rolled her eyes in an amused manner before she nodded. ''I'll keep you updated, Hunnigan, I don't know what I'll be walking into there.'' The call ended shortly after and Leon took his leather jacket, tucked it on and collected his pistols he trained to his belt, along with a new pair of reinforced boots on his jeans that would be able to take more damage before being torn apart like his previous shoes.

Japan, Jake, here I come.