Chapter Text
"What. The. Fuck."
Leon Kennedy muttered the words under his breath, staring blankly out at the bright blue ocean. It's a given that he's confused. Who wouldn't be?
The glare of the tropical sun in his eyes felt way too real. He could smell salt water and coconut sunblock too. And… he could hear this aggressive strumming of a ukulele melody in the warm air— Who the fuck play ukulele that aggressive anyway??
He looked around, desperately trying to make sense of his surroundings. Okay so, seems like he was lounging on a comfortable beach chair under a massive striped umbrella.
Right behind his spot on the beach was a massive, over-the-top resort. It looked less like a hotel and more like a European royal palace dropped right onto the coastline. Everything about the place just… screamed high-end, old-money luxury.
Even the people wandering at the beach looked rich as hell. Leon watched a guy stroll past wearing a silk button-down that probably cost more than a standard government paycheck, casually sipping from his hollowed out pineapple. A few yards away, a group of women in designer sunhats and oversized sunglasses laughed over a bottle of champagne resting in a silver ice bucket.
There wasn't a single grain of sand out of place, and nobody here looked like they had ever worked a day of hard labor in their lives. The wealth radiating from the resort was almost sickening, and somehow, Leon had a front-row seat to it.
Leon decided he needed to walk around the area to figure out what kind of place this actually is. He swung his legs out of the chair, his bare feet sinking into the ground, and he immediately froze. He could distinctly feel the warm texture of the sand shifting between his toes.
After everything he had been through in his life, he really shouldn't be surprised by weird situations anymore, but this was pushing it.
Staring down at his feet in disbelief, his gaze traveled up his body until he finally noticed his outfit. Apparently, he was wearing a loud, completely unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt covered in neon palm trees. Reaching up to run a hand through his hair, his hand accidentally brushes against a heavy pair of sunglasses resting on top of his head.
He let out a slow breath. Terrific. Aside from his shirt flying open in the wind, he fit right in with the filthy rich guests lounging around him.
Looking for answers, he started walking down the boardwalk. As he passed an open-air resort shop, he caught a quick glimpse of his reflection in the large glass window and kept moving.
Then he paused.
He slowly backed up a few steps, stopping right in front of the glass to get a good look at himself.
His whole body froze. The man staring back at him had no grey hair and zero stress wrinkles around his eyes. Dumbfounded, Leon reached up and rubbed his face to see if it was real. He pressed his fingers against his cheek and gave himself a sharp, hard pinch.
"Ow," he muttered.
It actually hurt. He could actually feel it sting.
He rolled his shoulders instinctively, waiting for the familiar, grinding ache of his chronic joint pain to flare up. Nothing happened. He felt incredibly light. He felt exactly like he did when he's in his twenties.
Suddenly, a massive, floating pink text box materialized in thin air right beside his head.
[Welcome to Summer Island, Superstar Model, Leon Kennedy!]
Leon stared at the glowing letters with a completely deadpan expression. He rubbed his eyes, trying to retrace his steps.
Okay, the last thing he remembered was having a quiet, relaxing dinner with Grace and Emily just a few hours ago. As he was getting ready to leave Grace's apartment, he noticed her television was still running. The screen displayed this hyper colorful title menu of probably some cheesy dating simulation game. Fueled by pure sleep deprived curiosity, he had picked up the controller resting on the coffee table and hit the "Start" button.
Standing on the warm sand, Leon let out a low chuckle. There was only one logical explanation. He must have passed out on Grace's incredibly comfortable couch and slipped into a spectacularly vivid lucid dream!
… Spoiler alert. He's not, actually. He literally got trapped inside a video game, but he didn't realize it cause he's a total Gen X. He just doesn't know the concepts of "isekai," modern virtual reality, or being sucked into a game you last played or anything. Even though the pinch to his cheek had actually hurt, he just brushed it off. To his old-school brain, a hyper realistic world where his joints didn't hurt could only mean one thing. This is a dream.
"If I'm dreaming, I'm taking the vacation I never got," he said out loud.
He completely ignored the glowing pink arrows trying to guide him down the beach. Instead, he turned his back on the tutorial prompts and strolled casually toward an open air resort cafe just down the shoreline.
Inside the open-air resort café, a young woman named (y/n) was frantically pretending to look busy during her part-time shift. Technically, she was supposed to be helping out her friend’s short-staffed parents. In reality? She was treating this entire luxury vacation spot like a high-stakes hunting ground.
As the actual protagonist of this world, (y/n) knew exactly how the mechanics worked. Right now, she had her eyes locked dead on her primary target, Captain Chris Redfield. Conveniently enough, she also happened to be his younger sister Claire's absolute best friend, meaning she already had the perfect foot in the door.
Chris’s route was notoriously difficult to unlock. Still, the payoff was entirely worth it. Who wouldn't want a rugged, insanely strong military captain who could shield you from any danger, but secretly turned into a total softie just for you? He was the ultimate protective hero, and (y/n) was determined to win him over.
She just needed a single, scripted accident to set her romantic destiny in motion.
Right on cue, the game engine delivered. A clumsy passing busboy completely lost his balance and stumbled forward, accidentally launching a heavy metal tray of glasses right at (y/n)’s head.
Fulfilling his hardwired "Protective Hero" programming, Chris lunged forward. Before the tray could hit her, he raised his arm to intercept it. The heavy glasses smashed violently against his solid, muscular forearm, shattering on impact with a loud crash and raining glass onto the floor.
The force of the hit, combined with a jagged edge, sliced right through his skin, leaving a nasty, bleeding cut across the back of his hand.
Leon, who had just grabbed an iced coffee from the pickup counter, was looking for an empty table when the chaos erupted. He stopped in his tracks, one hand casually in his pocket as he watched the mess unfold. He took a slow sip through his straw and raised an eyebrow. The vacation was getting lively already.
(y/n) gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs as she saw the blood. A furious, worried blush rushed all the way up to her ears.
"O-Oh my god, what are you doing, you idiot?!" she yelled, her voice trembling as she frantically dug into her apron for a first-aid kit. "Are you completely crazy, Chris? Why would you just jump in front of me like that?! Claire would literally kill me if you got yourself hurt on my watch!"
Chris stood up, completely unfazed, and casually wiped a stray drop of blood onto his shorts. He gave her a calm, stoic nod, trying to act tough. "I'm fine, (y/n). It's just a scratch. Don't worry about it, I've had way worse.”
"Shut up! It is not just a scratch, look at all this blood!" (y/n) snapped back, her hands shaking as she grabbed his uninjured arm.
Ignoring his stubborn protests, she used all her strength to drag the massive captain away from the shattered glass, forcing him down into a nearby chair. She dropped to her knees right in front of him, frantically opening her little kit. Because the café sat right on the beach, the ocean breeze had blown a fine layer of sand all over the wooden deck.
In her flustered rush, (y/n) didn't even think to grab an antiseptic wipe. Instead, with sand clinging to her hands from the floor, she unrolled a strip of dry gauze and started sloppily wrapping it directly over the raw, dirty cut.
Sitting at a table just a few feet away, Leon watched the dramatic display unfold. It felt like watching a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie, and he casually took another sip of his coffee, perfectly content to just observe.
But as the dust settled, he caught a proper look at the massive guy who had just taken the hit. The broad shoulders, the combat honed posture... he looked exactly like someone he knew very well.
Curious, and slightly bewildered by the idea of seeing his old acquaintance in his "lucid dream," Leon set his coffee down and stepped closer to the table to get a better look.
The moment he got close, he realized his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. It really was Chris. But before Leon could even process what Chris was doing here, his attention was immediately disturbed by the girl kneeling in front of the captain.
She was currently wrapping a dry bandage directly over a cut that was literally covered in dirt and sand.
Leon’s real-world survival instincts absolutely screamed in protest. He couldn't look away. It was agonizing to watch. Unable to tolerate the guaranteed infection, he sighed, stepped right into their space, and gently but firmly intercepted her hands.
"Whoa, hold on a second," Leon said, his voice calm but authoritative. "You can't just wrap it like that. You're going to trap all the sand inside.”
He picked up the small first-aid kit she had left on the floor. Leon moved like he was on autopilot, ignoring the gauze and immediately pulled out a small antiseptic packet. He ripped open the alcohol wipe, casually ignoring the sharp hiss Chris let out as Leon thoroughly sanitized the nasty wound. Before the captain could even complain, Leon pulled a fresh roll of bandage from the box and executed a flawless, rapid fire military field wrap, securing it perfectly in seconds.
(y/n) sat frozen on her knees, completely stunned as she watched the game's hidden superstar model casually take over the scene. Her jaw was practically on the floor right now.
"H-Hey, wait..." she stammered weakly, her hands hovering mid-air.
Her brain was short-circuiting. As the player, she knew this game inside and out. So what the heck is this?? Why on earth was Leon Kennedy suddenly stepping in to initiate an intimate, hands on healing event with Chris Redfield? This wasn't how the route was supposed to go at all! Leon was supposed to be a completely separate option lounging on the other side of the beach, not Chris's personal field medic!
Chris sat there, completely stunned. His artificial intelligence practically stuttered in real time. According to his code, Chris was programmed to deeply despise this spoiled celebrity model archetype. Yet, the man in the loud shirt had just handled a bloody incident with the calm, calculated precision of a seasoned combat veteran.
Leon tied off the bandage and looked up. The two men locked eyes over the shattered glass. In that brief moment, a silent, deeply grounded real world understanding passed between them.
A cheerful, melodic chime suddenly rang out from the heavens. Soft, sparkling digital lights materialized out of nowhere, perfectly framing Chris and Leon in a warm glow. A bright pink notification popped up right beside Leon.
[Captain's Affection +50!]
What the fuck.