Chomi, Leun and Mulan.
Thought-provoking indeed.
I feel no need to explain. If you even know who these characters are, then you know what you're getting into.


They were at war, and it was just another day.

It was just another day, and she had shot him.

Mulan wasn't sure if she should be proud or utterly horrified in this moment, as she watched her twin, her other half, the one closest to her soul hit the ground, watched his blood splatter all over the cold steel floor.

She had shot him; but she hadn't pulled the trigger.

Across the her line of vision, she saw Chomi, saw her slowly lower the gun. And her arm didn't wave even once.

Mulan wasn't sure if she should be proud or utterly horrified.

Leun's blood, Mulan's blood, was staining the floor. And Chomi's footsteps sounded so hollow in the corridor, fading out even as she approached Mulan.

"Leun doesn't deserve to go to Hell," she whispered, extending the gun to Mulan, her hand wrapped around the still-warm barrel.

"Now you tell me if Hell is what I deserve."

Mulan didn't hesitate. Her small hand wrapped around the handle, and with a smoothness she was sure she had rehearsed in the back of her mind countless times before, she raised the gun and pressed the barrel against Chomi's chest and didn't even flinch as she pulled the trigger.

Because you destroyed my life, I had to save yours.

Mulan wasn't sure if she should be proud or utterly horrified as she watched Chomi fall back, slanted eyes closing as her body hit the ground with a sickening thud and blood that people had gone to war over to protect and to harm stained her shirt, spreading in a slow circle and crawling through the fibers as if it were just another day.

Just don't ask.

Outside the sun was still shining and life went on.

I can't explain it anyways.

Her brother and her best friend were lying on the ground in pools of their own blood and children still laughed.

They were at war, and it was just another day.