The leftover bits of the plane that crashed and forced both you and Leon on a deserted island are nothing but a stark reminder that you were once strangers, sitting side by side with nothing but a destination in common. Now, you know maybe too much about each other, and the idea of being strangers was thrown away as soon as he pulled your body from the wreck that you miraculously survived.

The thick forest lines the sandy shore where you’ve laid your claim on the land. The only thing that gives away how much time has passed are the obvious signs of hair growing on Leon’s previously freshly-shaven face and the length of his hair is following suit.

Leon slowly spins the baby blue fish he’d managed to catch in a nearby river over a small fire he’d built under your watchful eye. There’s many things that one could say about Leon Kennedy, but on the island, he’s proving to be quite resourceful, guiding your stumbling feet around the island with stable hands and a kind demeanor. When the fish seemed cooked through enough, he pulls it away from the fire, tugging the tender flesh and sharp bone away from the end of the stick and breaking it in half.

“Here you go,” he extends the portion to you with a brief smile, gone before it can stick, “Think I’m getting better at the cooking thing. Can’t say this island hasn’t done anything for me.”