My crack at a Mulan crossover/AU, but with three main crossdressers, grey vs gray and all the Hetalia comedy shoved into the gaps.

A/N: Now also on Tumblr under estajay ( estajay. tumblr )

Sakura= fem!Japan

Felicia= fem!Italy

Isabel= fem!Spain

Chapter 1- To bring Honor

Slim fingers, pale and delicate, brushed over cream silk. They moved over pink cherry blossoms and danced across paper-thin branches sewn into the cloth with perfect grace. The fingers suddenly grabbed at patterned silk, crinkling the thin fabric. It was brought up against a slim, bandage-bound chest, the skin just as pale as the fingers. Drops of clear liquid fell, staining the silk and creating unsightly blotches on the serene cherry blossom embroidery. The liquid soon stopped falling but a single thought, definite and sorrowful, lingered. 'This is my last chance.'

White cotton socks clothed small feet, the product of many years of binding. A simple shirt and skirt, white and cotton like the socks, was then dressed over a slight torso and chest. The embroidered silk, a kimono, was then slipped on top. A cream-brown sash was tied at the waist. A mask of white make-up was painted on the face. The lips were highlighted with a deep glossy red and a gentle hue of lilac was brushed between the eye and brow.

The fingers began to reach for a wooden chest carved with flowing swirls, when a distant thumping was heard.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The fingers stopped and the body froze.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The thumping grew louder, faster. Whatever was making the noise was approaching.

Thump-thump-thump-….WHOSH~

"Beh~ Sakura!"

The paper-thin screen door that separated the room from the rest of the world was flung wide open. Something, or rather someone, leaped onto the body and into a death-grip embrace. A pair of sun-tanned arms snaked around the chest, constricting it and preventing the flow of oxygen to reach the lungs.

As she was well versed in reading atmosphere, Sakura couldn't detect any ill intent from her 'attacker', only happiness and over-excitement. But despite the lack of any malice, she believed this was the end for her. A simple, well-meaning hug would be the cause of death that will be inscribed on her tombstone…

"Felicia, let go of Sakura before you suffocate her." A sunny yet firm voice said. "I know you want to great your friend, but there are other ways to do that without knocking the breath out of her."

"Beh…Okay, Big-Sis Isabel."

The arms twisted around released and retracted, allowing Sakura to take in big gulps of air to fill her lungs with. Though she knew this was slight exaggeration, the young girl had really thought that her best friend's greeting would be the end of her.

Felicia gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. "Beh, mi dispiace, Sakura." She said, her eyes full of sincere apology

"It is okay, Felicia-sam…chan." Sakura replied, quickly switching honorifics before the other girl noticed, knowing her friend's dislike for formalities.

Felicia Vargas di Venezia was a noble woman. Her grandfather, Romulus, was a well-known general in the army and her family was old and powerful. Felicia was born and raised in Northern Italia, in the port city of Venezia, moving to the capital, Roma, in her early teens. She had a love for music, art and theatre, in particular la Commedia Dell'Arte, as well as many 'servant' tasks such as cooking and sweeping.

Sakura, on the other hand, was a foreigner from the distant archipelago nation of Nihon. She was an orphan under the care of a wandering marriage broker known as Matchimēkā-sama, or Madame Matchmaker. Throughout her travels, Sakura had been to many places, met various people and had a variety of misadventures; but she has yet to find a husband. Every man she had met with described her as either too outspoken and independent or too meek and submissive. This frustrated Madame Matchmaker to no end, as Sakura's inability impress a man had been affecting her business and reputation. She had declared that if the next man the Nihon girl met with didn't take her as his wife, Sakura would be kicked onto the streets of Roma with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Remembering her current situation, Sakura's spirits immediately dampened. She had no idea what kind of woman the man she was to meet with was looking for. Was he looking for someone loud or quiet? Prideful or humble? A woman to treat as an equal or a servant?

An arm was swung over her shoulders. Sakura looked up to see Isabel sunny face smiling down on her. "¡No hay que preocuparse!" The older woman said enthusiastically. "You are a beautiful girl that will soon blossom into an amazing woman. A man would have to be an idiotic fool to turn you down." Isabel's smile was infectious and both Felicia and Sakura had bright grins planted across their face.

Isabel was the caretaker and governess of Felicia and her younger siblings. Little was known about and her life before becoming the nanny to the Vargas children except she arrived by ship from España, a country across the Great Sea. She always had an air of joy surrounding her and was very rarely seen without a smile on her face, much like Felicia. Most would interpret her as an airhead with the inability to read the atmosphere, but was in fact the opposite. Isabel was thoughtful and intelligent and was seen as a mother-figure by all her charges.

Sakura was glad that her friends had come to visit her. Her spirits had lifted and she felt she could do just about anything.

Sakura once again reached for the wooden chest. The happy mood in the room began to sober. She opened the wooden chest and began ruffle through its contents. Inside the chest were all her material possessions: spare clothing, extra make-up and silk, a worn needle and a reel of white thread, books written in her native language with flowers pressed between the pages and, at the very bottom of the chest, was a long package wrapped in maroon silk with a golden trim. Everyone held their breath as Sakura unwrapped the package.

Nestled in the thin fabric were two items: the first was a small bone white comb with opals embedded into it, a deep red cherry blossom was fixated to the top of it. The second was a katana with a black hilt and sealed in a sheath just as black with veins of red and gold running across it. The pair symbolised elegance and strength, beauty and battle, feminine and masculine.

They were given to her by a strange man she had met as a child. Sakura was wondering the streets of Hangug-ui, a country to the Far East, while Madame Matchmaker was in the middle of an appointment. A queer man who had been passing by had given it to her and said, "This rightfully belongs to you… and it was made right here da-ze!" before rushing off into the crowd. At the time, the items were covered in dirt and rust while the silk was stained and blotched. Had they been in the condition they were in now, they would have been confiscated by the marriage broker instead of being disregarded as trash.

Over the years, Sakura had polished and cleaned the items to their present state. Every meeting, she would sneak in one of the items in her sleaves. When she held the comb in her wide sleeves, the man would say she was too delicate and fragile. When it was the blade, he would call her too rough and outspoken. The girl had concluded at one point that they were cursed and decided not to bring either of them to a meeting. The man had claimed she wasn't the kind of woman he wanted as a wife the moment she walked into the room.

Sakura held her two treasures in her hands, the comb in the right and sword in the left, contemplating which one to take to her final meeting.

Isabel inspected the two items with a careful eye, thinking of which one would bring the younger girl success. "Why not bring both?" the nanny finally suggested.

"Beh, and don't hide them in your sleeves, where them with pride and showcase them to the world!" Felicia added, waving her arms madly.

Her friends' bold remarks flustered Sakura. She wondered how women of the west could be so out-going and assertive. "B-but what will Matchimēkā-sama say." She stuttered. "She will think that I had stolen them."

"Beh, then we'll say their gifts from us!" Felicia declared, grabbing the blade and shoving it in Sakura's sash on the left side.

No hay que preocuparse." Isabel said gently, taking the comb from Sakura's hand and placing it in the right side of her hair. "No man would be foolish enough to reject you…" Isabel then pushed something soft and round into her hand. "…but here's a little something just for luck."

Sakura looked down and saw a bright red tomato, ripe and cheerful, just like Isabel.

Felicia gave Sakura another hug, though this one was not as tight. "Buona fortuna, mia amica."

"Arigatō, Felicia-chan, Isabel-san." Sakura said with a bow as she left her room for the meeting.

As she walked, Sakura began reciting a poem she knew as well as her own name:

"Calm, obedient, and works fast pace,

Delicate, polite and dutiful,

Quiet, punctual, and knows her place,

Demure, poised and graceful,

Gentle and refined,

These are the elements of a perfect bride,

And bring honour to us all."

{~~~}

Notes:

mi dispiace- I'm sorry (Italian)

Buona fortuna, mia amica- Good luck/fortune, my friend (Italian)

Beh- shortened for of bene (good); an interjection that means 'well'. (I'm not making this up, I asked my Italian teacher and it popped up in a listening task) (Italian)

¡No hay que preocuparse!- Not to worry! (Spanish)

Arigatō- thank you (Japanese)

Italia- Italy in Italian

Venezia- Venice in Italian

Roma- Rome in Italian

España- Spain in Spanish

Nihon- Japan in Japanese

Hangug-ui- South Korea in Korean

La Commedia Dell'Arte- a type of Italian comedy that was generally performed on streets and temporary stages in the 16th century. It's most notable feature is the masks worn by the performers.