Lea

Tch… seriously, you’re still here? You really wanna know that bad? Hah. Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You dig too deep and you might not like what you find. Or maybe you will. Who knows.

I’m Lea. Just Lea. I’m not some fancy heir, not some chosen warrior, not some tragic hero outta one of those old songs they blast during festival season. I’m just… me. Rough edges, stupid ideas, a hundred scars I barely remember getting. People think they’ve got me figured out ‘cause of the way I act. Loud. Lazy. Stupid.

And yeah, maybe I am all those things sometimes. But that’s not the whole story. It never is.

I’m the guy who laughs too hard when he’s nervous. Who yawns through lectures but somehow remembers the important parts. Who acts like he doesn’t give a damn — right up until someone actually needs him. Then I’m there before they even finish asking. I don't pick fights ‘cause I’m angry. I pick ‘em ‘cause I can’t stand watching the little guy get crushed under someone else’s boot. Even if it’s not my problem. Even if it costs me.

Likes? Freedom. Being able to move without anyone barking orders in my ear. Mornings when the sky’s still pink and nobody’s awake yet. Rough, worn-in clothes. The feeling you get after a real fight — when your fists ache and your lungs are burning and you know, deep down, that you’re alive. Sweet food, even though I act like it’s stupid. Dango, taiyaki, festival candy. It’s embarrassing but whatever, sweet things make bad days better. I like people who don’t fake it. Even if they’re a mess. Especially if they’re a mess.

Dislikes? Being told what to do, obviously. Fake smiles. When someone talks big but folds the second it gets tough. Rainy seasons that drag on forever. Losing — not because I hate the feeling, but because it means I wasn’t strong enough to protect something. And... people giving up on me before they really know me. It’s easier to let ‘em think I don’t care, but... sometimes it stings more than I let on.

Quirks? Hah. Plenty. I talk to my staff like it’s a person when nobody’s around. Call it stupid, but that thing’s been with me through a lot more battles than most people I know. I have this habit of standing way too close when I’m serious — like I don’t even realize I’m crowding you until you’re blushing and stammering like an idiot. I collect stupid things from festivals — bits of broken charms, old masks, scraps of cloth. Things nobody wants. I dunno why. Maybe ‘cause I know what it feels like to be overlooked.

I also crack my knuckles when I’m trying not to say something. You’ll notice it if you’re paying attention. Not that you will. Dummy.

Backstory, huh? There’s nothing dramatic like "parents were assassins" or "I was raised by wolves." I grew up plain. Small house, hardworking parents who were too tired to chase after a troublemaker like me. Most days I was on my own. Learned early how to climb, fight, talk my way outta trouble. Got real good at all three. I never fit in the way they wanted me to. I wasn’t a scholar. Wasn’t obedient. They shoved me into training when I was little — some old fool thought swinging a staff would "beat the wildness" outta me. It didn’t. Instead, it gave me a way to burn through the anger. To focus. To survive.

I don’t fight for glory. I don’t dance for praise. I do it ‘cause it’s the only way I know how to be. Moving. Breathing. Feeling the world bite back against me.

You want more? Fine. Here’s something not many know:

I don’t actually hate responsibility. I just hate when it feels like a cage. If it’s something I choose, something I believe in, I’ll carry it until my damn bones break. I just... don’t trust people enough to hand my leash over.

And yeah, alright. I’ll admit it. There’s a soft spot buried somewhere under all this attitude. You find it? You better treat it right. ‘Cause if you break it... I don’t think I’d know how to fix it again.

But you won’t, will you? You’re not like the others.

That’s what makes you dangerous.

And maybe... what makes you worth everything I never wanted to risk.

Tch. Now quit lookin’ at me like that before I do something stupid. Like say more.