AN: Rated M for themes because this is based on a kid's movie.
If there was one moment when Shang knew Ping was different, it was in the mountains after they'd discovered the fate of the Imperial Army. Of course it was a military disaster, of course they all mourned the death of fellow soldiers and innocent civilians, but for Shang too it was the death of family. His own father lay slain in the snow and of all the men, Ping was the only one that had recognised his grief and tried to comfort him.
I'm sorry...
Shang had paused in that moment, laid a hand on Ping's delicate shoulder, and moved by the young soldiers concern, had felt a connection between them, some deeper understanding only the two of them shared.
There was something about Ping, a quiet compassion and intelligence that he fought so hard to keep hidden, but Shang saw them, and he appreciated those hidden qualities.
Shang had always known he was different. He pushed himself in training and graduated top of his class, hoping that a distinguished military career might negate the need for a visit to the matchmaker. He didn't want a wife. He wasn't interested in women.
Because of that, he'd kind of always assumed that love wasn't for him. At least that was until Ping came along. The strange young soldier made him feel things he hadn't known were possible. Ping really was the craziest man he'd ever met, but he was also kind and dedicated and adaptable. And a rule breaker. Shang thought that maybe he'd finally found someone he could share his life with. But now, because of Ping's stupid, selfless bravery, Shang was terrified he was going to lose him.
He waited fretfully outside the tent for the medic's diagnosis, praying desperately that the wound was not a mortal one. Ping's pain etched face and his blood soaked uniform played repeatedly in Shang's mind's eye, chilling him to the bone.
Finally the doctor emerged with a troubled look on his face and for a heart-stopping moment Shang assumed the worst, that the wound was fatal, but then the doctor leaned in and whispered something. A startling truth that did indeed signal Ping's death and set his heart thudding violently with shock. ...a woman... No.
He had noticed that Ping didn't join in conversations about women with the other men. He was the same, but as an officer it was easier for him to avoid suspicion. He'd hoped it had meant Ping was like him, but this shocking revelation explained it too.
He rushed into the tent, unwilling to believe such a thing without seeing it for himself. It couldn't be true. He didn't want it to be. No woman would be capable of, let alone dare to, join the army.
For a moment Ping was there, safe and sound, looking at him like he'd dreamed and everything was fine. Nothing had changed and Ping was alive. But then he sat up, the blanket slipped and the truth was undeniable. Shang's tentative grip on a bright future slipped and his world crumbled as the terrible truth that Ping had never existed hit him. Ping was nothing but a lie, one spawned from the imagination of a twisted woman. Of course Ping had been too good to be true.
"I can explain," she pleaded, even her voice was different. Ping was truly gone, he had to leave too. "Shang!" a strangers voice called after him, one full of familiarity and pain it had no right to possess. She was the betrayer, not the betrayed. He didn't even know who she was.
Chi Fu, a petty and insecure man who had always been envious of soldiers, particularly brave and capable ones, tossed the wounded, half-naked woman brutally into the snow. He hurled insults at her and howled for her death. But even in her current state, dishonoured, wounded and on her knees at their mercy, Shang acknowledged she still was twice the man Chi Fu would ever be.
"My name is Mulan. I did it to save my father," she declared unapologetically. Still defiant and unyielding. "It was the only way. Please believe me." Still determined to prove herself.
Shang didn't know what to think. He was hurt, confused, angry. He drew the stolen sword from it's scabbard.
He understood the seriousness of what she'd done, and the expectation that was upon him as a leader, to right her dishonourable actions. The penalty was death, but Ping had saved his life. Killing what was left of him felt like a betrayal too. For Ping, the man who had saved him, he would spare Mulan. It seemed like a fair exchange. He threw the sword down at her side.
"A life for a life..."
He left her there, alone and broken in the snow. Empty, friendless, dishonoured. He did not pity her, nor did her wish her ill. She meant nothing to him. But Ping had. Ping he would miss. Ping he would mourn. Shan-Yu's blade had indeed struck a mortal blow. Ping was dead.
Victory had come, but it felt hollow without Ping to share in it.
Shang turned towards the city, where honest, reliable duty waited. The very thing he should've stayed focused on all along.
He'd leave his foolish notions of love behind in the snow to freeze with Ping's memory, because that was how things should be.