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.
"Here!" Po winced as the takeout order was shoved into his hands; his father flapped his wings angrily at him. "If you can't focus on your work then at least get out from underfoot!"
"I'm taller than you, I can't be underfoot!" the teenager quipped back sarcastically, but the goose was having none of it.
"Don't take that tone with me! Daydreaming during the dinner rush, pah! I haven't got time for that, so go on! Scoot!"
"Fine, fine, I'm going! You could at least tell me where this is headed–"
"To the Jade Palace!" his father honked angrily, turning back to dicing carrots. The steam of soups and sauces simmered from the pots and pans on the stovetop, obscuring the dozens of customers beyond the window clamoring for orders. "And mind you be quick about it or the food will get cold!"
"Fine," Po snapped back, stalking out of the kitchen. "But if I die from an asthma attack on the Thousand Steps, you'd better give a nice eulogy–"
"You're not going to die! Dramatic child, I never said–"
Po left to the angry squawking of his goose father, fuming silently to himself as he stalked through the town streets in the direction of the steps to the Jade Palace. Ordinarily this was one of his favorite times of day; the sun was setting over the Valley of Peace and the evening air was warm and filled with the sounds of children at play and people out finishing their errands. Tonight, however, he could appreciate none of it. "Stupid dad, stupid shop, stupid noodles," he snarled under his breath, before his paw stubbed up against something, and he looked up. He'd reached the bottom of the Thousand Steps.
Well, it could be worse. He was delivering to the Jade Palace… The panda's black mood faded as the realization filled him with a sense of excitement and a bit of amusement. If his dad had known the reason why he was so distracted these days, he definitely wouldn't have given his son this particular takeout order. But his ignorance was Po's gain, and as he started the long, long climb up the steps (he didn't know what his dad was expecting; there was no way he was getting the food up those stairs fast enough to keep it hot) he felt his spirits rise as well.
The golden sunset had long since faded into pink and then violet by the time he reached the top of the steps; the gate had been left open, but the doors to the fancy-looking hall at the top of the steps were closed. "Uh… hello?" he called, knocking on them. "Delivery from Mr. Ping's?" Nobody answered, so he pushed on the doors. They were very sturdily locked. "Uhh, anyone there?"
He waited for a minute or so, but nobody came to answer. Bewildered, he wondered if maybe there was another door he was supposed to have entered by—maybe they took deliveries at the back? He turned and looked back towards the gate, and then around. Oh, I get it now. There were several other buildings around; maybe this wasn't the right one. It dawned on him—almost making him giddy—that he was professionally required to go exploring the place he'd daydreamed about visiting so many times before.
It turned out that the Jade Palace was really big. Po wandered around for a while, picking his way among the paths by the fading sunset; he found another large building and knocked on the door for a few minutes, but nobody answered. It felt disrespectful to raise his voice too loud, so he didn't start shouting, instead deciding to go try another building. Surely, someone had to be around here somewhere…
It was while he was walking along the path in the direction of some less-ornate, one-story buildings in the distance that he finally saw someone: a ways off, against the setting sun, stood an outcropping of cliff. Some species of flowering fruit tree grew atop it, and below this he could see the silhouette of someone about his own size. Whoa. Could that be…? Excited, the teenager switched course, hurrying off in that direction.
Within a few minutes he'd made his way up the staircase leading up to the cliff. As he came to the top of the path, his heart leapt into his throat; he'd been right after all. It's her. Oh my gosh, it's totally her!
It was the tiger girl. Of the Furious Five, she was definitely Po's favorite, and had been since the day he'd fallen in love with Kung Fu. His awe of her incredible warrior talent had only increased as the Five had more and more taken on the role of actively defending the Valley from roving bandits and ne'er-do-wells. Her grace, power and ferocious passion in the heat of battle made her almost dizzying to watch, and on more than one occasion Po had neglected to follow his father's panicked orders to get away from a street fight and rather run towards the heat of battle, just to watch her and the others fight.
Okay, be cool. Be cool! He smoothed back his ruff of fur on the top of his head and started towards her nervously. As he approached, however, something caught his eye which made him stop.
He had only ever seen the girl in the midst of battle, which generally meant she an expression of either teeth-gritted determination or a grimace of pain. As such, he had never seen her look… sad. Po was surprised by just how much her expression differed now: her ears were drooped rather than alert or flattened back; her body was hunched over, one arm propping her up on her knee; and her brow was pinched as she peered sadly down over the valley. Feeling as if he had intruded on something private, Po cleared his throat.
The girl's ears perked up a split-second before her head swiveled to look at him, and immediately her expression changed, becoming startled and more guarded. "Uh, delivery from Mr. Ping's," Po said awkwardly, gesturing with the package.
"Oh. Um–" He watched her sit up straighter, trying to look more formal. "Thank you. You can just leave it here."
"Right. Uh…" He hesitated, and then inched closer. The girl watched him.
"I'm not going to bite," she said bluntly. He blushed.
"Right! No, I mean, of course I know that, uh, just–" He was rambling, gah, that was so uncool! "–I mean, you're, like, one of the Furious Five, so, y'know…"
"I won't punch you, either."
He could have gone dug himself a hole and died in it. "Right. Yeah." He stopped hesitating and walked up, but for as mortified as he felt the girl wasn't even looking at him anymore, instead growing melancholy again as she stared down at the Valley. "So yeah, um, dumplings, spicy noodle soup, three bean buns and a serving of rice."
"That's right." She wasn't looking at him, but if anything looked sadder than ever. Po hesitated. He didn't want to pry, but he also felt bad just leaving her like this…
"Listen, uh…" The girl glanced up at him. "If you don't wanna talk, that's cool, but… you look kinda down. I know I'm just a stranger but if there's anything I can do–?"
"No, please, don't let me detain you. I'm sure you have to get back down to the Valley."
To her surprise, Po laughed unhappily. "To tell you the truth I'll probably take my time walking back down those stairs." She frowned, bewildered, and he explained: "My dad and I are kinda having a fight right now."
"Really?" The girl sounded surprisingly interested, though wary. "What kind of fight?"
"Oh, uh, it's nothing…" But she was looking at him with such clear intrigue that Po couldn't help but want to tell her. "I mean, it's silly, but…y'know, he wants me to go into the restaurant business like him and keep working at the family shop, but I hate it there."
"You do? Why? Don't you like your family's work?"
"I know, I know. I'm a horrible son," he said guiltily, but the girl shook her head vigorously.
"No, forgive me! That's not what I meant. Here." She moved over a few feet so that he could sit down, which Po did, half in awe. I'm sitting next to her! "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude, but you looked so miserable when you said it."
Me, miserable? Heh, she should see her own face! "I mean, I guess I should be grateful, you know? Dad and I don't have much but the restaurant does okay, I've always got food and a warm roof over my head, and I know he loves me, but…" Po sighed. "Sorry. I'm rambling. He just loves the restaurant so much and I don't know how to tell him that I don't want to cook noodles for the rest of my life. Maybe it's his dream, but it's sure not mine."
"I guess I'm the ungrateful one, then." The girl looked back out over the Valley again. "Here I am feeling sorry for myself, but at least I get to spend every day doing what I love…"
She trailed off. After a moment of silence, Po decided to give her a little nudge. "So… what happened? If you wanna tell me, I mean."
She shrugged. "Nothing worth moping over. My master can just be very…critical, of my progress." When he didn't say anything, she elaborated: "I messed up in training today, and got myself hurt." She raised her fist to show him; it was wrapped in bandages.
"Whoa! That looks pretty bad; what did you do?" He couldn't help but sound more impressed than concerned.
"I punched a tree. Wrongly, that is, and broke my paw."
"Wow. That's pretty hard-core." Despite herself, his admiration made her feel a little better. "Why would your master be upset with you for getting hurt?"
"I shouldn't have been so reckless. If I had only focused harder, I would have had better form. Instead, I can't do any real training until my paw heals; if the Valley is attacked my teammates will have to pick up my slack." As she talked she visibly deflated; her unhappiness with herself was written clear across her face. "Master Shifu was very upset. I hate disappointing him."
"Well, I think he's being too hard on you." Po followed her gaze down into the Valley and found the little house and noodle shop, shaded in the magenta light of the dying sunset. "Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. I'm sure your master does too."
The tiger girl's shoulders slumped further, her brows furrowing sadly. "I'm nothing like Shifu," she said wistfully. Po glanced at her.
"Yeah…" he sighed; the girl looked up. "I'm nothing like my dad, too." She watched him a moment longer and then dropped her gaze again, miserable. "He always says I have my head in the clouds. I don't know, maybe he's right. There's just...things I wish I could do, but I can't." He didn't want to seem lame, telling this hardcore kung fu girl about his daydreams about being a warrior like her—a kung fu panda, she'd probably laugh at him—so he kept the specifics to himself. "But I don't want to be like him, either. I guess I don't really know who I am."
"Master Oogway says I shouldn't focus on trying to be Shifu, but on trying to be me." She peered over the edge of the cliff, watching the lights begin to glow one by one in the valley as the last bands of magenta sunset faded into the indigo night. "But I don't know what that means—other than trying to make this new style of Kung Fu."
"Whoa, really?" She looked up, surprised. The panda boy looked delighted. "You're inventing a new style? That's so awesome!"
Tigress chuckled despite herself. "Yes—Tiger Style." She tensed her paw and snapped an open-palm strike against the night air. She let it hang there a minute and then dropped her palm.
"Wow…" The awe in the boy's voice was evident, and for the first time all day, she felt a little flicker of pride in her accomplishments.
"I don't really know how to do it," she explained, "I'm sort of basing it off Leopard Style…but it's hard. I'm not a prodigy, like…" She trailed off. "Well, I'm just me."
"What's your name, anyway? I mean everyone in the Valley knows about you, of course, but I've never heard anyone use your real name…"
"Everyone's always just called me Tigress. I might have had a different name as a baby, I don't know."
"Oh, you're adopted?" Po realized. The girl nodded, looking a little confused at the question. "I just assumed Master Shifu was your dad."
"You…did?"
"Yeah. Well, for what it's worth–" He grinned, nudging her with his shoulder, "–when you were kicking bandit butt last week down in the village, you looked totally awesome. You, uh, you always look awesome, actually."
The tiger girl's face at last split into a fanged smile. "I do?"
"Totally! I know it might not seem like it right now, but trust me: you're going to make a great master someday."
Maybe it was just their reflection in the dim light, but the girl's eyes seemed to be glowing with gratitude and pride. "Thank you. I-I really needed to hear that, today."
The last stripe of violet faded from the sky, and a cool wind blew over the Valley. Po shivered, realizing how late it had gotten. "I'd better get going; Dad's probably expecting me back."
"Oh. The food's probably gone cold," Tigress, realized, looking down at the package, but the panda boy just waved his paw.
"Don't worry, it reheats really well. Just cook it up on the stove."
"I'd better get our messenger to do it; Master Shifu can't really cook…"
They got up, dusting off their pants, and Po handed the parcel over to the girl. "Here. And uh, 'Mr. Ping's is honored to serve the Jade Palace,' or something like that."
"Thank you. I'll have our messenger fly down with the fee later; I'm sorry I don't have any on me."
"Eh, don't worry about it. Have a good night—Tigress." He smiled.
"Wait." He blinked. "Here—thanks, for everything." Quick as a whip, her paw shot out and gently caught one of the falling blossoms from the peach tree, cradling it between her claws. She held it out to him. The boy accepted it with a look of sheer awe on his face; she presumed he'd heard the legends of Master Oogway's Sacred Peach Tree.
"Wow. This is– this is– so cool." He looked like he might hyperventilate. "I'll treasure it forever."
"Well—it'll probably wilt in a few days," Tigress deadpanned uncertainly. The panda flushed.
"Right. Until then, I mean." Another breeze swirled around them, and the panda shivered. "I'd better go. But uh, it was really great to meet you, Tigress."
She tucked the parcel under her elbow and gave him a proper fist-in-palm bow, smiling slightly. "And I you, Panda."
With an awed little wave, he left, glancing back at her occasionally; Tigress wasn't quite sure why. It was only after he'd gone that she realized she'd forgotten to ask his name. I don't know if there are other pandas in the Valley… still, if he works at the noodle shop...
That day would eventually fade out of Tigress's memory in a haze of training, fighting, and Master Shifu's flat refusal to order takeout from Mr. Ping's a fourth time after the food had "arrived" cold. For Po, the memory would become a treasured one amidst the others of watching his best-loved heroes defend the Valley time and time again. As the years passed, though he knew she'd probably forgotten him, he felt a rush of pride as the tiger girl's kung fu grew more powerful and her foes more impressive, until the day when, at last, the people began to refer to her by a new and well-deserved title: Master Tigress.
Years later, sitting under the Sacred Peach Tree and looking down at the valley, he turned to his best friend meditating peacefully at his side. "Hey, Tigress?"
"Mm?"
"I was just wondering—do you remember, a long time ago, the Jade Palace ordered food from Mr. Ping's and–"
Her amber eyes shot open and her head swiveled to look to him, her mouth falling open. "That was you!" Po grinned and nodded. "I'd forgotten—Po, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I forgot–"
"Hey, hey, don't worry about it." He waved his paw lazily, still grinning. "I just wanted to say—I told you so, Master Tigress."
Tigress blinked at him, trying to recall what he meant, and then smiled. "I suppose you did." She reached down and scooped up a newly-fallen blossom from between the tree's roots, and held it out to him. "Master Panda."
Po accepted it with a smile, and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes in the bright morning sunshine as Tigress returned to meditating. Fifteen years was a long while to figure out what it meant to be himself, but he guessed that growing into your own skin took some time. He felt a lot more at peace with himself now than he had back then, and it had all started with discovering a passion for this thing that nobody, certainly not his dad, had understood. Yet in the end the long road to get here had all been worth it. Heck, he was still figuring out who he was, and probably so was Tigress—and that was okay.
He was thirty years young, it was a sunny afternoon in the Valley of Peace, the breeze wafted with the gentle scent of peach blossoms and he was in the company of his best friend in the world. Yeah—it was a good day to be Po Ping.
Fin