Adopting a New Perspective
Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to DreamWorks, Kung Fu Panda, the Kung Fu Panda cinematic universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.
"I'm sorry."
A drop of rainwater rolled down the fur on the edge of his cheek. His face was still half-turned from hers. "We're not having kids," his voice came quietly, half-brokenly. "Are we?"
The tiger sighed and looked out at the sheets of rain sweeping the distant rice paddies. The gloom of gray mist and verdant green seemed to press in on her like a screen.
"I don't think so, Po."
The warrior nodded. He sniffled again and wiped his cheek with the back of his paw, and then let the hand drop to his knee, uncharacteristically listless.
Nobody knew exactly why some inter-species marriages produced children and some didn't, though there was a theory that it had something to do with how similar the species were in appearance. Initially Tigress had been hesitantly optimistic, as there was no known record of a panda and a tiger marrying before (both their species being small in number and pandas generally prone to keeping to themselves, they had had little interaction in previous centuries), but two years had passed since their marriage and her optimism had long since burned out. Po's might have lasted a little longer, had they not encountered the group of bright, bubbly children on their way home from their latest mission. She could tell that the lost hope had hurt him badly, worse than it had her.
And to think, we were so worried about it in those early days… Tigress had always liked children, but had never thought too hard about having any of her own until she and Po had started (half-awkwardly, in fits and starts) a courtship some years ago. Marriage wasn't strictly speaking forbidden to Kung Fu masters, but it was certainly rare—especially for female warriors. She and Po had discussed it with Shifu shortly before their marriage and had decided it was better for Tigress to take on the task of litter-carrying early, have their children sooner rather than later and then negotiate parenthood and duty together, as a team. It would mean prolonged periods of their marriage spent sleeping apart, but both had agreed that their duty to China and to Kung Fu was worth it.
In the end, all their plans had come to nothing. It seemed foolish now, looking back, all the angst-riddled discussions and careful plans. There were no children had, no litters carried, no questions of loyalty and duty. Po was taking it the harder of the two; unlike Tigress, he had never conceived of a future where he would not be a father. The realization that it might never happen, she knew, had gutted him
And now here they were, sitting listlessly in the rain.
And Po was crying.
Tigress sat looking at him with sad eyes, ears drooped, paw resting on his shoulder. They were not like other couples they had known in the valley, primarily linked through bonds of arranged marriages and family life; she and Po had been friends and comrades long before they had been a couple, and the pain she shared with him now was twofold: both as a grieving wife sharing in the same loss, and as his friend. A roll of distant thunder rumbled through the air and into the wooden steps below them, somehow comforting in its tone—like a cat's purr. Po wiped his eyes again and then his nose.
"You're not crying," he noticed dully.
"It wouldn't fix anything."
"C'mon. You must be sad," he offered gently, as if worried she'd been bottling things up. Usually he knew her so well, but this time she shook her head.
"I can't make myself cry, Po. And besides…" She sighed. "I knew."
"You knew?"
"I guessed. Months ago."
"You did?' He sounded wounded, half-betrayed, and she looked away. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to hurt you. At least, not yet."
He opened his mouth to reply, but there was nothing to be said. He shut it again and looked out at the clouds rolling down the mountain slopes in fantastic misty spirals.
After a long moment, he turned again, and buried his face in her shoulder.
They trudged out again the next morning, packs slung over their shoulders, unspeaking. The rain hadn't let up, but neither could stand to stay cooped up in the tiny shed any longer. During that time of year they always carried waterproof packs, so their possessions were relatively safe, but even with their rain-hats their fur was quickly soaked through. Hours passed in silence. It worried Tigress; Po was not known for his silence.
At lunchtime they stopped to eat some cold dumplings beneath a leafy gingko tree, raindrops plopping down fat from the leaves onto their hats. Tigress breached the silence for the first time in many hours. "There's still the possibility of adoption."
"Yeah. Maybe." Instead of brightening at the prospect, as she'd expected, Po brushed it off. Tigress frowned, confused, and figured she'd stated it the wrong way—she wasn't the best communicator.
"It's something to consider, anyway," she tried again. "I'm sure the matron at Bao Gu would remember me."
"Uhuh. Good thinking."
"Po, I–"
"Pass the dipping sauce, would you? These dumplings are kinda dry."
She passed the sauce, and they ate the rest of the meal in silence, aside from the ever-present drips of rainwater. Tigress was confused; something was going on, but she couldn't see how the pieces fit together, and whatever it was, Po wasn't telling.
They started again through the rain. A few hours in, she tried to broach the topic of adoption again, but Po immediately shut it down with a change in conversation. She left it alone for a while after that; whatever grieving she'd had to do, she had done months ago, but this was fresh to him. He needed to handle it in his own time.
At nightfall they stopped in a village for food and shelter, drenched with rainwater and in sullen moods. The local inn-and-tavern had only one room available, discounted due to the draft, and neither the food nor the cleanliness of the kitchen were up to the Mr. Ping Standard. They finished their dinner wordlessly and then sat in silence in the nearly-empty bar, drinking bad tea and listening to the rain outside turn into a downpour.
At last, when the lantern was beginning to burn low, Tigress again brought up the subject. "Po, having children of our own was never our only option."
"Look, Tigress, no offense but I'm not really in the mood to talk, okay?"
"Because you're too tired, or because you're avoiding the issue?"
Po didn't answer. His wife sighed and looked out the window at the falling dusk. "If you don't want to talk, we don't have to talk," she amended, being far more patient than she actually felt.
There was a beat of silence. Then: "I'm not avoiding the issue."
"Fine. Then don't avoid it." She looked back at him, brows raised coolly. Po sighed.
"Look, I think I'm allowed to be upset about this, okay? I mean, yeah, sure, we knew this might happen—but that doesn't mean it feels good, alright? In fact it really sucks."
"I understand why you're upset. What I don't understand is why you won't discuss adoption," she said flatly, crossing her arms. "You and I were both adopted." Outside, the rain pelted the metal roof of the bar mercilessly. Po didn't answer—a telling sign. "Does this have something to do with your father?"
"My dad? No; w-why would it have something to do with my…" He trailed off, looking at her amber eyes glowing slightly in the dim light. "...with my dad." He looked down into the cup of steaming tea in front of him, frowning with a look of confusion. "I just…don't understand why you aren't upset. Don't you want a kid that's, y'know, ours?"
Startled and slightly hurt, she frowned. "It would be ours, Po. Whether our child is of our bloodline isn't important." When the panda looked away, she continued: "Before meeting you, whenever I thought about raising a child it was always in the same context as Master Shifu had raised me: adopting a student, someone to carry on the legacy of the Jade Palace."
"That's… what I want too, but…"
"But what?"
Po didn't answer. Tigress, seeing she'd hit a nerve that maybe Po hadn't even known was raw, realized that hard style wasn't going to work here. She unknotted her limbs and reached across the table to him, setting a hand on his forearm and causing him to look up in surprise.
"I'm listening," she insisted quietly. "Tell me what's wrong, Po."
After a long moment of looking into her eyes, he sighed and dropped his gaze, rubbing the little furrow between his eyes with his free paw.
"Look…okay, my dad, right?" Tigress nodded to show she was attentive as Po launched into his ramble. "He and I, when I was growing up, we didn't always see things the same way, y'know? I mean don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but he doesn't…get me. Never has. And I thought– I thought…" He groaned. "It's stupid."
"I can't judge that until you've told me," she deadpanned, trying to lighten the mood, but Po just dropped his hand to the table and stared down at it.
"I thought…if I had a kid of my own, a kid like me, that I could do better. Dad wanted me to love the restaurant; I never could. What if the kid I adopt doesn't love Kung Fu like I do? What if they're nothing like me; what if…what if I don't understand them and it makes me a bad father?"
"Po–"
"When you make a kid, it's kinda, y'know, by accident, right? Even if you're trying for it." He gave her a quick smile which soon disappeared. "But adopting…you're just, y'know, walking into a kid's life and changing everything. That's terrifying. What if I mess it up?"
"You thought having a child of your own bloodline would make it more likely for them to be similar to you," Tigress translated at last. "And you'd be able to avoid the same pitfalls you experienced with your own father." Po nodded tiredly. "Po…"
"I know, it's stupid."
"It's not stupid. But it is wrong."
He looked up at her. Tigress gave him a small chuckle. "Po. You and your father might be night and day, but you do love him. And for the matter, adoption is no guarantee of a child's personality either way; look at me and Master Shifu."
Po chuckled himself, at last cracking a real smile. "Yeah, you're basically mirror images of each other."
"Yet for a long time, we were nowhere near as close as you and your father. We still aren't." Po had to nod at that. "Parenthood is about loving your child," Tigress advised, "even more than understanding them. And I don't think I've met the person yet that Po Ping can't love."
Po's smile grew sadder and kinder as he took her paw in his and squeezed back. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."
"Of course."
"I'm still scared, though," he admitted.
"So am I."
"But I guess if my dad and Master Shifu can raise kids, then so can we, right?"
Tigress chuckled. "I would imagine so. And, Po?"
"Yeah?"
"Take it from me: for all Shifu's faults–" she withdrew her hand and picked up her teacup, watching the steam rise from the green surface, "–I was always happier with him at the Jade Palace than I ever was as an orphan. Far happier."
"...Yeah. Yeah, I guess I could say the same."
The rain had cleared by morning, leaving the air a clean and sparkling blue, washed of dust. They set out again, still uncharacteristically quiet (well, for one of them, anyway), but now in better spirits.
By afternoon the Jade Palace was in sight; they stopped on the far hill overlooking the Valley, drinking in the welcome sight of home. After a few moments, Tigress shouldered her pack again and started to move on, but felt her husband's paw catch her wrist. "Tigress, wait."
She turned back as he let go, looking suddenly nervous. "Po?"
"What do we tell them? I mean– you know. About us."
"You mean, how do we tell them we can't have children?" He nodded, looking embarrassed, and something worse—ashamed. Tigress stepped back towards him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "We don't have to tell them anything until we're ready," she said firmly. "And frankly, Po, it's none of their business."
"But you know my dads, they both want grandkids–"
"You're the Dragon Warrior, hero of China and defender of the Valley; that's more than enough for you to be dealing with. If and when we decide to adopt, it will be our decision, and no one else's." He looked away, and she gripped his shoulder tiger, redrawing his gaze. "You've always been enough family for me," Tigress insisted. "But I know how big your heart is. If you want to share that love with someone who needs it, then speaking from experience, they won't care whether you're a panda or a goose—or a tiger." Po smiled at her despite himself. "And to me, that is the only person whose opinion matters."
He nodded, looking relieved. "Thanks, Tigress."
"Come on." She gave his shoulder a last squeeze and started off down the hill again. "Let's go home."
They descended into the Valley, greeting Mr. Ping and waving off any well-intentioned invitations to come in for lunch with insistences that they were really very tired. By the time they reached the top of the Thousand Steps, the excuse had become the honest truth. "Aghah," Po wheezed, bracing against his knees as they stopped at the gate. "I thought– I'd finally– figured those things out."
"You've been walking all day, it's natural. Hello, Zeng." The palace messenger had appeared in the gateway with a bow.
"Master Tigress, Dragon Warrior. There's someone here to see you. Well, actually two someones."
Tigress glanced at her winded husband. "Zeng, can't it wait? We've been on the road for weeks now, we both need to rest–"
"Master Tig'ess'!"
The master had a brief glimpse of a white-and-black knee-high blur, before a bundle of fat and fuzz launched itself bodily into her arms, forcing her to stumble and nearly knocking her back down the Thousand Steps. "Oof! –Lei Lei!" The panda child looked up at her in delight, and Tigress laughed despite her dour mood. "What are you doing here?"
"She insisted on seeing you two." Tigress looked up as a shadow fell in front of the doorway.
"Dad," Po said, surprised, as he straightened up. The older panda tipped his straw hat with a grin. "What's going on? Is everyone in the village okay?"
"Oh, sure, everyone's fine," Li Shan waved off the anxious question. "To tell you the truth, it was getting a little too quiet! But then one morning Lei Lei here pitched the worst temper tantrum any of us had ever seen out of her."
"Lei Lei, you didn't," Tigress scolded fondly; the five-year-old grinned toothily at her.
"She did. Turned out it was because her doll had gone missing–" He nodded to the Tigress-figurine that Lei Lei was gripping tightly in her fuzzy hand. "–But by the time we found it she was in a state; wanted to see the real thing in person, I guess. Demanded we take her to see 'Master Po' and 'Master Tig'ess.' And I figured, well, why not take a vacation, go see the kids now that the spring planting's done? So here we are. Sorry if we caught you at a bad time."
"S'fine," Po said generously. "Come inside, Dad, we'll get you set up with a room."
"Oh, no need for that. Master Shifu already put us up for the night yesterday, gave us a nice room too…"
"How long will you be staying?" Tigress asked politely as they walked inside, heading for the student barracks with Lei Lei still casually bundled up in her arms.
"Oh, a few days, maybe. Probably not more—so long as Lei Lei doesn't mind!" Li Shan laughed, and just like that, the idea broke like a newly-watered seed into the minds of both warriors. Po and Tigress shared a stunned look that communicated a whole conversation, but which could probably be boiled down into a few short questions:
Are you sure? Are we even ready for this?
Heck no! And then, the panda's customary devil-may-care grin—more hesitant, more nervous, yet still just as eager and hopeful. But let's do it anyway.
"...Lei Lei," Tigress said slowly, casting a hesitant glance at her husband and then at Li Shan, who tilted his head in confusion. "Do you like staying at the Jade Palace?"
"Yah! Lei Lei loves stayin' with Master Po and Master Tig'ess!"
Another shared look. She needed permission. She had to be sure he wanted this, too.
Po gave her the nod.
"Lei Lei…what would you think about staying here forever?"