Title: It's Nothing Personal
Word Count: 1,497
Author: Sick Twisted Mind
Warnings:One 'naughty' word and this could be considered slash by some.


Honestly Dre, it's nothing personal. I have no sort of special vendetta against you. I don't hate you at all. I don't even find you annoying really.

I have no reason to loathe you. You never got in my way (well not unless I got in yours first). I don't like Mei, so take her. You never insulted me or angered me. I don't truly dislike you either. Now you're probably wondering why I beat you up and seem to hate you.

It's all about power.

I have a power over you that I can not have over anyone else. I can control you. I can make you feel safe or I can chase you down and make you fear for your life. I can control those bruises on your body and how badly they'll hurt. I can hold you down and make it so you cry. I can back you up against the wall and watch you squirm.

I admit, that day at the play-ground, it was personal. You were talking to Mei. I had no romantic interest in her, but she was almost like a sister. I knew how important it was for her to get into the Beijing Academy of Music and you were distracting her from practicing. I wouldn't let someone mess up my 'sister's' chance at getting into the school of her dreams, so I interfered.

If you could have just left, everything would have been fine for you. But you pushed it. You stayed and argued and I beat you. It was bad for you, but for me… I finally understood what it was like to have power over somebody. You just kept coming back at me and I had the power to put you back in your place.

With that last punch that made you cry out in pain and humiliate you in front of all those watching, I felt something that I had never felt prior to that moment. It was like having an adrenaline rush from drinking coffee or riding a roller coaster. It was a shock that traveled from my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes.

After I left you there on the ground as everyone else crowded around you, I left my friends at the playground and walked home. At the time, I was so confused. I hadn't completely understood what I had felt after hurting you. I had lain on my bed for the rest of the day; I hadn't even eaten my dinner that day. That scene kept playing through my head: Mei laughing with you, me concerning over her audition for the Beijing Academy of Music, you insisting to stay, you angering me, me hurting you…and then feeling so much adrenaline.

I had beaten up kids before, but with you, it was different. Maybe it was because I could see that you were on the verge of crying. Maybe it was because I could tell you had no fighting experience, so you were completely defenseless. Maybe it was because you were different from what I was used to. You were short and it almost looked like you were underweight; your hair was in…what were they called? Braids? Corn-rows? Corn-rolls? Well your hair was…funny and you looked different. You spoke differently, you dressed differently, you reacted to punches differently and you…danced differently.

Maybe I liked knowing that you came from a different place and since you were new, you had no power.

I hadn't completely figured it out even though the thoughts ran constantly through my head. I stayed in my room until school the next day and I had come to a conclusion.

I wanted more.

The energy that surged through me was unlike any sort of feeling I had ever had. The power that I felt that day made me feel confident…in control…strong… What had happened that day made me feel like I could control you and have you scared.

Have you ever had control over anything Dre? I don't think you have, so allow me to explain: Having control gives you an energy that makes you feel like you're on top of the world, like you can do anything. So when I understood how good I could feel hurting you and making you cry, I decided I wanted more.

So it was only power I cared about. I didn't hate you at all. I wasn't even mad about that punch you managed to get in during our fight the day before. I had nothing against you from our fight on the playground; I just liked the sense of power that you gave me unwillingly.

So that day, I dumped your own lunch on you. The surprised, shock look that covered your face and showed in your eyes gave me that feeling I'd been craving since our first encounter at the playground. Yes, you fought me back, but the anger in you that I had caused was like a reminder of that power I had over you.

And then a week later, you noticed me in the lunch room and ran. I know you thought I hadn't seen you, but I did, so I made sure to follow you closely while pretending I had no idea of your presence; I had no plans of hurting you at the time, but this was just to prove to myself that I terrified you all the time. Even when I was being normal and not bothering you, you still feared me enough to run away.

But only five minutes later, we ran into each other in the hallway. Our brief meeting then had quenched my thirst of watching you squirm in fear. You had a dying fire in your eyes and you set down your book bag as if you wanted to fight. But we only grabbed it, threw your papers around and kicked the bag. And you just stood there and let it happen. You were too scared to fight back because you thought we would kick you instead of your book bag.

A week later, I saw you in my kung-fu class. You were so afraid of me that you were looking for someone to teach you to fight back. What a thrill. When I looked up at you, you were smiling as though you found the answer to all your problems. Then you noticed me. The smile dropped off your face along with all sense of happiness that you showed.

You scowled and stalked off. I finished my class better than I had ever done before.

Then on that field trip from the Forbidden City, I sat behind you on the bus. I honestly didn't know what I was going to do or say, but it didn't matter. The teacher looked back at me, so I had to pretend like I wasn't going to do anything.

And after the field trip, you asked for it. We had done nothing, yet you threw that disgusting, fish-smelling water onto us. That time–again–it was personal. You soaked me and my friends, and – in blunt terms – I was pissed.

We chased you and I didn't even take pleasure from the sight of you running in fear like you were a mouse and I was the hungry cat. You did everything you could to keep us from you: you pushed over boxes and broke valuable glass objects. You ran and jumped over everything in your path. You may not be a fighter Dre, but you were certainly a runner. I worried for more than a few moments that we may not catch you. But in the end, we succeeded and chased you until you came to a dead end.

We beat you badly. You were groaning and moaning constantly. You made small whimpers and you cried out constantly. I remember feeling…something. Pity? Sympathy? Guilt? Whatever I felt, I knew something made me feel…odd for hurting you so badly. If this had been a movie, someone would have ran to rescue you and take you home.

But life is not a movie and after a good half-hour beating, we left you gasping for breath and crying on the ground.

You still talked to Mei, which I had no problem with. You seemed to make her happy. And I continued to control you. To dominate you. To scare you. To chase you.

I admit that our beatings died down. I hardly ever hit you nowadays. Just a simple push or bump in the halls or tripping you or the occasional dumping your lunch on you.

But at least twice a week, our eyes will meet and I can read your face: You know that at any moment I could hurt you. You know that I am stronger. You know that I have power over you. But you look away and act like you don't know anything, but we both know I'm in control and that I have the power.

It's really nothing personal Dre.


As you can tell, Mr. Han never saved Dre, so Dre never entered the Kung-Fu tournament, so Cheng continues to have power over him.