---Disclaimer: I don't own Mulan or anything else in it; the entire setting, names, and place is © Disney.

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The night air was chilling, embracing me through my robe as I watched him blend into the darkness. I knew what he thought of me: I was pathetic, a coward. How could I have possibly thought that I could make it in this idiot's war? Sure it was pointless, but still, if I was going to act like a boy, I had to fight like one.

I was nearly ready to turn in - another day of humiliating myself had taken it's toll - but that was before I caught sight of it. It, shining in the darkness, a thin line of wood separating the darkness.

My redemption had come to me, or more precisely, I to it.

The box was at the foot of the pole, calling to me as I stepped nearer to it. My eyes were half-lidded as I tapped the box open, retrieving the heavy weights and hanging them about my wrists. The pole was before me, seeming to stretch up into the heavens with only that thin, feathered line to break the beam from the sky.

Swallowing hard, I moved my hands up the back of the wood, feeling splinters in my fingers already. Placing my feet on either side, I attempted to hoist myself up, but only succeeded in sliding back down and landing hard on my rear. Groaning, I stood, staring hard at the weights. These infernal contraptions had to be more than just an obstacle for retrieving the arrow; they had to serve a purpose.

The heavy bands . . .

On a whim, determination set in my face, I grasped the closet point to my wrist and flung one under the other about the pole, and all I could have hoped for happened: they locked over one another, a secure hold that would support me as I climbed.

Placing my feet against he back of the pole and hugging the wood with my knees, I thrust myself upwards, sliding my knees up the beam and bumping the weights up the wood. Sweat glittered on my brow, muted but not defeated by the chilly air. I gritted my teeth, bones occasionally colliding with my tongue and drawing blood. I desperately wished that I was wearing a lighter robe; the weights were killing me as it was. The bands drove into my wrists, cutting grooves into the skin and sending jolts of dull pain up my spine every time I pushed them upwards. I shoved my head above my hands, realizing with a splurge of ecstasy that I was halfway up.

The sight below made me dizzy and nauseous, but I forced myself to swallow my bile and heave my head into the first rays of dawn. Had I really been doing this all night?

I felt eyes on my back, but not in jealousy or anger: astonishment, envy, and wonder. Was I that impressive because I used my brain?

One more scoot . . . my foot slipped, sliding me down an inch or so. N, I couldn't fail. Driving my teeth into the inside of my lip, I pulled myself up into the sunlight, sweat rolling down my cheeks as if water had been dumped over my head. Clunking the weights up to the last inch, I grasped the top of the pole with my hands, pulling myself up onto the head of it. Everyone stood, mouths ajar, as I yanked the arrow from between my legs and tossed it with a SHWING into the grass at Shang's feet.

"Guess I'm the only man out of all of you, ironically enough," I muttered, laughing slightly.

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