ㅤㅤㅤPortrayal from 𝐓𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐧 6 & Onward. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #TekkenRP X #MVRP

‟My mother was one of them. I need to confront him. I won't be able to rest until I do.‟

‟It seemed that any leading scientist who worked on the project was killed the moment they couldn't provide any use.‟ Leo's gaze remained fixed on the glass as they continued, their words heavy with a seemingly unending burden. ‣

Their gaze lingered on the orange juice, and for a moment, they found themselves lost in the reflection of their own troubled eyes. ‟I've been looking into the G Corporation. Specifically, the research they've done on the Devil Gene,‟ ‣

They picked up the glass, using it as a brief distraction while they collected their thoughts. Clearing their throat, they held the glass between both of their hands, as if seeking solace in its simple presence. ‣

‟Innocent lives have already been put in danger,‟ they replied. ‟I wish it were that easy. But we both know that it isn't. Why would he care? He's come so far, killed so many...‟ Leo paused, taking a deep breath to steady their emotions. ‣

Leo gently bit their lower lip, fully aware that mere words alone could never be enough. The world, as they knew it, was far from simple, and if fighting was the path to the resolution they sought, then fight they would. ‣

‟An important guy like that wouldn't have the time.‟

Finally, they broke the silence, their voice soft but resolute. ‟I want to meet with Kazuya Mishima.‟ Setting the glass back on the table, Leo continued. ‟I tried so hard. It's not easy to get close to him outside of the tournaments.‟ ‣

The influence of the Mishima Zaibatsu reached far and wide, and it often left them struggling to open up. But here was someone who had undoubtedly entered the tournament for the same reason they had. Leo took a moment to gather their thoughts, their gaze cast downward. ‣

With a shaky hand, Leo reached for the glass filled with orange juice, their fingers trembling slightly. Raising it to their lips, they muttered a quiet "thank you," in good manners. ‣

The name "Mishima" alone was enough to send shivers down anyone's spine, and Leo was no exception. They couldn't escape the harsh reality that their mother was likely not the only one who had suffered at the hands of the Mishima Zaibatsu. This was proof. ‣

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It was an unspoken understanding that drew people from all walks of life into the arena, themselves included. ‟What drew you to the tournament? I doubt it was all about the fighting.‟

‟You participated too?‟ Leo's voice held a lighter, more curious tone. They knew all too well that nobody entered the tournament without a reason, and that common thread seemed to bind all participants together. ‣

The subtle glance didn't escape Leo's notice, and it served to ease some of their initial tension. With a quiet sigh, they loosened their posture, letting go of their sleeves and allowing their arms to fall gently to their sides. ‣

A nervous chuckle escaped Leo's lips, reflecting on the attention that had been thrust upon them. ‟I wasn't in it for the attention. I heard someone that I'd been looking for would be there.‟

‟Sorry. I'm Leo. Leo Kliesen...‟ They paused, their expression softening. ‟You might know me. I've gained a bit of unwanted popularity after attending some of the tournaments as a competitor.‟ ‣

They clenched the fabric of their sleeves, their shoulders tense. ‟Everybody is afraid, looking for the next person to blame. I didn't expect to be welcomed into your home...‟ Leo cleared their throat, trying to shift the conversation to a lighter note. ‣

In the harsh world they had grown accustomed to, battles often took precedence over conversations. ‟The world isn't a good place,‟ Leo began, ‟There's nobody to protect the weak, and the strong are corrupted with power.‟ ‣

Leo's smile faltered as they considered the question, their arms folding across their chest. It had been a long time since they felt comfortable talking to someone without the looming threat of a fight. ‣