A/U: This was written to fulfill a Mulan SoMa AU prompt. Meet modern Mulan inspired SoMa, not very fairy talesque at all, sorry. The song was chosen after the fact because I wanted to put it in this collection.


I'll Make a Man Out of You:

You're unsuited for the rage of war
So pack up, go home, you're through
How could I make a man out of you?

No, no, no, no, no, this couldn't be happening. She'd been so careful. If only Black*Star hadn't, if only they didn't, but he had, they did, and now—and now—

They were on leave for fuck sake! How could she be discovered now?

Stupid, stupid Black*Star.

She and Soul were the youngest in their company, and when it had somehow come out that neither had "popped their cherries," as Black*Star had put it, they'd been bound, gagged, and driven across town by several of their company buddies who had opted to stick around rather than go home before they were deployed. There were only a few days left before they'd be off to the European front, only a few days to live for some of them, and their friends thought they were doing them a favor by taking them to the brothel and hiring the woman, a beautiful, sultry creature named Blair. As the door clicked locked behind them, she and Soul had both looked at each other, looked at Blair, and shaken their heads simultaneously.

"I don't want to—"

"I'm not gonna screw some random—"

They spoke at once.

"Boys, boys, there's enough of Blair to go around," the woman purred and Maka blanched.

"I'm leaving," she stalked to the window, fiddling with the latch. They hadn't planned well enough—there was a fire escape.

"I'll go with you," she heard a low rumble behind her, and then Soul was working the second latch. It was rusty, old, but a moment later the window was open, the screen was off, and they were scrambling through.

"But—Blair has already been paid for three hours!" The woman called out after them.

"Well then, I guess you just got the night off," Maka called back with a smile and a wave and Soul snickered.

They'd made the long walk back to base and barracks together and, wanting to rid herself of the filth of even being in such a place, Maka decided on a shower. It was empty, only Soul was around and he'd settled into his bunk for a nap, it was perfect.

Normally, Maka had to be so careful when she showered. She got up earlier than all of them, hopped in, hopped out, and then bound herself and dressed quickly. Living among men with her secret was difficult, and she'd almost been caught several times, but she managed. Stein helped. He'd pulled some strings, gotten her some exemptions. It was working, because it had to work.

Her father couldn't go to war. He would die. He was a disgrace to himself and their family, but she couldn't watch him die, so when he was drafted, she had taken his place. She'd gone to Stein, who had helped her fudge the paperwork and who had done her physical himself. He was the doctor assigned to their company, and she'd been assigned to that company to make it work. Her country needed soldiers for the war in Europe and the Pacific, the second Great War, and she was happy to go in her father's stead. She had never been much of a girly girl anyway, had always enjoyed a good fight and she, at least, stood a chance.

Having the shower to herself, not having to worry about someone walking in, was bliss. Maka stood in the steaming water, unabashed, unafraid. Soul slept like the dead and the others wouldn't be back from their bender for hours. Perhaps that little ordeal with the brothel wasn't such a bad thing if it meant—

"Sp—Spirit?" His voice was a squeak, almost a girly scream. She had been so lost in her shower that she'd missed his quiet entry and now he had—he had—

"WHAT THE FUCK, SOUL?" She shrieked, dashing to the bench to retrieve her towel, staring at him through narrowed eyes. "You're supposed to be—supposed to be—"

"What the fuck yourself," he growled, shaking his head. "You're supposed to be a guy!"

"UGH!" she shrieked, venting her frustration and embarrassment. He knew, and she was fucked, so fucked. She'd go to jail, for sure, she'd go to jail for fraud and—and—FUCK! She knew she was scarlet but what did it matter? It was all over.

"I—I—" What could she say? She shook her head and made to stalk past. She was surprised when he grabbed her elbow, spinning her around. She barely managed to keep hold of her towel and glared her annoyance.

"—what? Don't you need to go run to command and squeal?"

"Spirit, I…"

"It's Maka!" she spat. "Spirit's my dad, okay?"

"I…" he shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck. His face was a blank mask, nearly unreadable, but they'd become close over these months of training, she would even venture to call him her best friend as much as he had started off as her pain in the ass, and knowing him so well, she guessed the primary emotion there was confusion. Her face softened. This wasn't his fault, and really, it was bound to happen, eventually.

"Look," she shook her head again. "I didn't have a choice. My Papa's a drunk, a womanizer and a loser. He'd have come here and died, so I took his place. You've seen what I can do. I belong here, I can fight. Shouldn't matter I'm not—that I'm—"

"That you're a dame?"

"—that I'm a woman."

There was a long pause as they just stared at each other, both in towels. Finally, he let out a long sigh.

"Look, Spir—Maka, I'm not gonna tell anyone, okay?"

She blinked.

"But—why?"

"Because friends don't rat on each other." Her face stretched into a slow, disbelieving smile at that, but it disappeared when he raised a hand.

"I do have a condition."

"C…condition?" she gulped.

"Yeah," he looked thoughtful. "When all this is over, if we make it out, you gotta go on a date. With me."

"What?"

"You heard me. You. Me. Date." She thought about it for a moment and figured why the hell not. If, after all of this, he kept her secret and they both lived, he'd surely have earned it.

They shook on it, and when he surprised her by pulling her in to seal that promise with a kiss, brushing her lips lightly, she found that, oddly, she didn't really mind.

It didn't mean she didn't chop him into unconsciousness, of course, but even still, a date at the end of it all wouldn't be bad. No, it wouldn't be bad at all.