Rival
Characters: Vega, Chun-Li, and a small bit of Bison
Summary: When Bison offers up a sedated Chun-Li as a way to entice Vega into remaining with Shadaloo, Vega reacts in an unexpected manner.
If Rose was the opposite and equal reaction to Bison's action, then Chun-Li was his. Bitter rivals, two sides of the same coin, and one great never-ending struggle. They'd be this way forever. If Shadaloo collapsed tomorrow, and Bison were somehow obliterated from the face of the planet, things wouldn't change. He'd chase her. Then she'd chase him. And around they'd go, until someone dropped dead.
He hated her. The very thought of her made his blood boil, spiked his adrenaline levels. Seeing her like this was not what he wanted, though. He could kill her very easily. She wouldn't struggle. Bison made sure of that. "Call it a reward," Bison said. "I won't think twice about what you do with her." He shoved the woman forward, and she stumbled slightly. Her eyes were dull as she stared straight ahead. Brainwashed. He'd done this once for Sagat, offering up Ryu in an attempt to get the Thai man to stay on as a commander. Had he begun to notice Vega's own disillusionment? Not with the ethics, but the aesthetics, of course.
Vega looked at her for a moment. She was pretty. Hated her for it. She was a kind person. Hated her for it. She was a good friend to those she loved. Hated her for it. All around perfect. He looked from her to Bison, who waited patiently for some response, some indication of how this was going to end. "What do you think I am?" Vega asked.
"It was a difficult task, catching this one," he said. "Who else would better enjoy executing her than you, I thought." The man paused for a moment, and then finished his thought. "And I supposed that you would enjoy this however you'd like."
Unable to contain himself, Vega felt his nose wrinkling and his brows drawing together, almost involuntarily. "What is it you think I would do to her? Keep her tied up in my closet for future use? That I want her as a pet?" he snapped. "You insult me."
Bison smirked. "I'm surprised you find the idea so distasteful, considering the remarks you've made concerning her attractiveness." Bison felt he was long since beyond having to deal with petty matters such as physical attraction, and found it amusing more than anything now. Sex was an unnecessary distraction that he had little problem not taking part in.
"She may be beautiful, but I would never in my life want to do anything more than bleed her dry," he said, slender fingers taking a tenuous grasp of the woman's throat. She didn't react. He narrowed his eyes. How dull. How boring. "Rape is an ugly act." His hand traveled upward, fingers brushing over her cheeks to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "To force a beautiful thing to submit to you, it's a vulgar display of power." His eyes grew dark. He was thinking of someone else now. It was plain to Bison as he seemed to stare through Chun-Li. "He'd steal something every time, little by little. She'd slowly wilt into a hideous shell. Her beauty would fade with her spirit, and that soul-crushing gaze would say it all. It disgusts me to even think about it." His eyes seemed to focus again as he turned to Bison. "And it disgusts me that you presume I'd ever want any part in taking a beautiful woman by force."
Bison was a little insulted. He'd offered up a pretty rare prize, and Vega was rejecting it. He could humiliate the woman who had so many times humiliated him, and now, he'd have none of it. He hadn't expected Vega to refuse. His thoughts on the matter were more complicated than expected. Vega had expressed very often that he had no interest in power. That he didn't care at all about posturing and showing off his authority over another. Vega did not care for authority, and it dawned on Bison that these were all leftovers from the damage his mother's death had done to him. Having seen so often a man of authority try to force it upon others, to show off his 'power'... He'd find himself no better than the pig he hated if he were to ever sink so low as to take a brainwashed, drugged, or unwilling woman to his bed.
"Perhaps I have misunderstood you," Bison said finally. "I'll dispose of her efficiently enough, however."
"No," Vega said quickly. "Leave her with me."
The general was a little taken aback. Had the young man just not expressed his distaste for the offer? Was he going to change his mind? He wasn't leering at her hungrily, as he had seen so many of the lower ranks do with the Dolls when they were still under his control. There was no real desire in Vega's eyes as he glanced at Chun-Li. "I trust you'll take care of her, then." That was one thing Bison could expect. Vega hated her, perhaps more than anyone else still alive today. It was part of the reason he thought he may enjoy using her. Vega's sexuality was never something Bison thought about, but he supposed him to be a violent and forceful lover. In retrospect, perhaps that was painfully wrong to assume. Given his hatred for power, and his sentimental love for beautiful things, maybe he'd be surprisingly kind. Or maybe he'd deem no one worthy enough. Or even further, perhaps his mother's emotional dependency upon him led him to find sex to be a difficult and awkward trial. It wasn't a subject he was greatly concerned with.
"Yes. Give me a little time," Vega said. So Bison did. Vega waited patiently for a few minutes, until finally he was sure he was alone. He turned to the brainwashed woman. "You know I hate you." She didn't respond, of course. "That I do want to kill you." He stepped closer. No response. "But not yet. And not like this." He was only speaking to her on the off chance that she would remember it later. "I'd kill you because you're beautiful, but you don't seem to understand that people like us-we're made to suffer. That the rest of the world will always be biting at our heels like rats and other...foul little things." He couldn't look at her anymore. She wasn't quite so pretty this way, with her clouded over eyes, passionless, no fury, no joy. "That's what I'm hunting, you understand? I have to. I have to destroy them, before they destroy me. Before they destroy us, and any of the other beautiful things there are. But I'm alone in this. It's overwhelming. There are simply too many. And you-" He watched her as she blinked. She was climbing her way back up, out of the fog. He took her by the wrist, and led her along like a child as he spoke.
"You're like me. And that's why I hate you. We both just want the same thing, but we'll never be able to have it again. We both had to sit idly by, helpless and weak and..." He gritted his teeth, found himself squeezing her wrist. Thunder cracked sharply overhead as he led her outside, further darkening his mood. "We both lost everything we had. But you don't seem to suffer for it like I did. No. Instead, you gain everything back. New friends, new life, new career, success after success." He blinked quickly to keep the rain out of his eyes. He led her, further and further away from the base, out beyond its borders, into the wilderness. She was accusing him with her eyes, those dead, foggy eyes. "Don't you say a thing. I'm not a failure," he snapped. "You don't think I've worked hard to get where I am? Why should you have all the accolades? Why should you be loved so quickly and readily?" He shoved her away, and she seemed to be coming around from the sudden movement. She stumbled in the wet grass, fell to the ground.
"I'll kill you one day. To save you," he said. "Not because I care about you. Not to know that you're safe or happy. But to keep those rats, those foul little things, from destroying another beautiful thing."
She pushed herself up, the jarring fall bringing alertness with it. She blinked away the rain, seemed to slowly be coming back to reality.
"But when I kill you, it'll be a death worthy of you. Not like this." He spread his hands to indicate the manufactured nature of this encounter. He didn't want her drugged and on her knees. He didn't want deadened eyes before the fatal blow had even been delivered. He wanted that anger, the primal rage as self-preservation instincts kicked in. Survive, survive at all costs. "When you die, I'll make it something beautiful. But for now..." He paused as he watched her rise back up to her feet, cautious, prepared. The last thing she expected of him was for him to turn around and walk away.