Symmetry

Ada was never one to believe in fate. She didn't like the whole idea of some uncontrollable force deciding what she was going to do with her life, and what was inevitably going to become of her someday. Ada liked to be in control; and she believed it was up to her to define how she lived and died.

As much as she hated to admit, she believed there was some other force acting for her on that night over four years ago. Maybe it was fate, but it could have been other things; destiny, reality, inevitability, whatever you want to call it. It was with her on that night, controlling her against her will, manipulating her subconscious. It was the only way to explain her actions, and more importantly, her feelings towards him.

Ada had grown up without a father and had no brothers, not very many boyfriends had anywhere near as big an impact on her (not to mention in such a short space of time) and she didn't have many male friends. It was a well-known fact that Ada liked to stay away from men; they were nothing but trouble and most of the time only led to heartache. Women are the stronger gender anyways, we can multitask and we can get the job done when push comes to shove, men are too simpleminded to take the easy route and often end up complicating uncomplicated matters. Leon S. Kennedy was no exception. So why did she end up going against everything she believed in for him?

Ada spotted the house as she rounded the corner in her red corvette and pulled over on the left, doing a handbrake turn in the middle of the deserted street. She looked around and studied the houses, all perfectly symmetrical in a neat little row on each side of the street; each one the exact size and structure of its neighbour. The evening was warm and calm, and there was a certain peaceful air about the neighbourhood that she had never noticed before. After all, she had lived here for the first six or seven years of her life, which were possibly the hardest times for her as a child. Hardly anyone lived in this neighbourhood anymore anyway; it was due to be demolished to make way for a new hospital and a shopping mall. Ada was glad of the temporary lack of life, for it provided her with the perfect opportunity to visit one of the many places that holds such bad memories for her.

She walked around the back, hopping over the tiny grated fence that was so old and rusty it barely opened properly anymore. She snuck over to the back door and picked the lock. It only took her fifteen seconds at best. She breathed in the familiar stale air, a wash of memories flooding into her mind, as if the scent of the place was picking the lock on her memory bank. She made her way up the stairs finding the door on the far left of the corridor. It creaked open with the same ascending groan that always creeped her out at night when her mother came to check if she was asleep.

Her bedroom was much different to when she'd left it two decades ago; it was now an adult bedroom, void of most of the furniture and valuable items, but it still had a king-size bed that barely squeezed into the room alongside her mother's old pinewood wardrobe. She opened up the doors and inhaled the scent of her old room still embedded into the fine wood. This house must have belonged to a much happier family. The atmosphere had definitely changed. It seemed lighter, brighter somehow.

Noticing the full-length mirror that stood on the other side of the room, Ada stood in front of it and stared at her reflection. She remembered the last time she came here. How everything had changed even back then, how she had changed. She had been reborn then, had been torn from the safety of her cocoon and into the real world where she was forced to grow. She removed the black t-shirt she had on and stroked the scar on her abdomen delicately. It was still relatively the same as it was four years ago, only a darker reddish colour and slightly smaller. It was less painful when she touched it too.

The dying rays of sunlight from the setting sun glowed orange as they filtered through the slats in the blinds. They tinged Ada's face with a warm hue-y glow as they simultaneously kissed her skin, illuminating her mid-section. She was constantly staring at the spot ever since it happened: Raccoon City. She knew the scar would never fade, but she had deeper wounds than that to worry about. Like how she left Leon on the floor unconscious after he had taken a bullet for her. How she had left the safety of the security office when he had rescued her from Birkin. How his face haunted her every hour of everyday when she looked into his face and told him to escape without her – and when they shared that one moment of passion; how his voice cried out her name in the distant recesses of her mind after she had lost conscious. She remembered as clear as day how her lips had tingled at the touch of his, how her heart hammered in her chest as she inhaled his breath into her mouth, as she felt enough life surge through her to hold on for that tiny linger at the end of the kiss, and how she hated her body for making her let go.

Tears began to slide down Ada's face, gripping her skin as she willed them not to fall, but did so anyway and ran into the recess of her lips, making her taste bitterness and sorrow in them. She recollected meeting Leon for the first time; he seemed like another honest cop who was just trying to step up and take charge in a dire situation. Ada was usually an excellent judge of character, but she had been surprised with this one. She expected him to play the dumb hero; try and save her from something she probably didn't need saving from and end up dying in a stupid way because he tried to play the white knight rescuing the distressed damsel card. That was the main reason why she let him tag along with her at first, she figured she could use him to her advantage somehow, but that was before she grew to like him. Before he kept showing up at her side whenever she began to feel scared or got into trouble. Before she seen how smart and adapt to the situation he had become, plus she was impressed by how relatively well he could aim weapon: almost as good as her. But mainly before she had realised just how far he would go to keep her safe, risking his life to make sure she wouldn't come to any harm. Yeah, it was safe to say Ada had pinned him wrong, he wasn't some "serve and protect" macho wannabe; he was a hero.

Ada began to let out sobs as tears rolled harder and faster down her cheeks. She leaned against the mirror, her reflection following her in perfect symmetry. She decided to let them fall from her eyes with pride, as this was the old Ada that despaired for him. Maybe she even loved him. Or maybe she was just infatuated by him and the fact that he kept searching for her for four years, even though she died in his arms. Nevertheless, it was not her; Ada would never let herself fall for someone during a mission, she would never let some rookie cop follow her around and complicate things for her by making her play innocent civilian, she would never waste time and effort staying by his side when he searched through dead ends and long passageways only to take her further from her own objective when she knew the way by heart. She would never give up her life to ensure he escaped, even though she didn't truly know if he had a chance of getting out alive. Well maybe it was a good thing Ada had changed; she didn't want to be that person anymore. She didn't want to go through her life knowing her mission is her only duty, her only goal in life. The new Ada had a purpose. She had a reason to live. And that reason was her next mission. Or at least if everything went to plan, he would; because he was it. He was her next objective. It was her time to look out for him now. The butterfly would be watching over him from heaven with perfect symmetry.

Ada dried her eyes and put her t-shirt back on, covering the ugly scar that reminded her of him more than anything else. She understood why Wesker had given her the codename crimson butterfly. Not because her favourite colour was red, or that she was graceful and attractive like her namesake, but because of what Wesker saw in her, and that was his reason for saving her. She was ready to die just as he was for something that meant a lot to her, and she was glad for the return to the world because she had not seen her cause justified. It is well known that a butterfly is born completely symmetrical; and four years ago, that was what Wesker saw when he looked at her.

Symmetry.