Lion's Pride
It's hard to believe that France was only a few hours ago… Though it is Spring here, it is quite warm. Strange, I suppose, that I expect Spring to be cold, but then Spring was always the time when Father was busiest; looking back on it now, I know that his customers were then at their most eager to place advance bids. Start of a new year? Well, there's no better time to map out the destruction of lives.
Bitterness, but with just cause. Is it any wonder that Spring at home was always a bit chilly?
But I've resolved to think about that as little as possible. My priority now is to find the car I was told to look for, and get to the tournament grounds as soon as possible, and win. If-- When I can win the Ultimate World Martial Arts Tournament, I will prove to Father that I can uphold the name of Rafael, regardless of the course I choose to take. Of course, the question that plagued me during the flight still hasn't left me: What honor is there in the name of Rafael, when the foundations of our wealth were built upon privateering and war-mongering? The blood of countless people soak the money we spend, and although I did not know of this before… Does that absolve any of my guilt?
And despite this, let it never be said that Lion Rafael was ungrateful for his life, or claimed his father unkind. Though often busy, my father has always been good to me, and to my sainted mother he was always most gentle; he has never displayed cruelty of any kind, and I find it hard to believe such sincerity was falsified. Even as a child, the love my parents bore for each other was plain to my eyes, and I cannot understand how such a loving, generous man could take part in the illegal arms-trade.
And I admit, this tournament is a testing ground for myself, as well. There are various other tasks I could have set my hand to – literature, or music, or independent stocks – but this is something for me. Tourou-ken, though my father's way of teaching me discipline and aggressiveness, was sometimes the only creative output left to me; when words or music could not express my anger or frustration, a few hours' worth of practice in the gardens were far more effective. If I can use these skills to overcome both opponents and my family's heritage, then perhaps… perhaps I can finally live the normal life I've always wanted.
Oh, and there's the car, I see; the driver looks a little shifty, to my eyes. However, I can't seem to pinpoint anything in particular, so perhaps it's just my nerves. After all, this could very well be a turning point in my life…
Lion Rafael, at age fifteen, is already master of Tourou-ken kung fu; a prodigy, yes, with the finest education money could buy, and the innate grace and refinement of a born aristocrat. Scion of the much-esteemed Rafael line, he has been groomed since birth to follow in his father's footsteps, becoming a captain of the aircraft research-and-development industry.
Until recently, he was content with this goal, seeing it as his family duty. However, he found out that the R&D was only a front, hiding a brisk and illegal underground weapons-trade… meaning that his family's latest wealth, for the past several generations, was in fact blood-money. Appalled by this turn of events, Lion has been offered a way out; if Lion can prove himself worthy of the Rafael name, by succeeding and excelling in a field of his choice, then he will be no longer bound by the family's tradition.
Others at this tournament fight for money, for fame, or for vengeance, but young Lion fights for something more precious than life itself… The freedom to live it.
A/N: I know, I know, this isn't a "Misc. RPG," but there's no Virtua Fighter catagory, and there are already at least two other VF fics in this section anyway. So there.
Uh... Not much else to say. I wrote this a LONG time ago, forgot about it, and just recently found it again. I dusted it off, cleaned it up, and decided to post it, despite the fact that I don't play Virtua Fighter anymore, just because this fic was there. So I hope you enjoy it, and maybe even review.