"Soldiers!"

Thirty pairs of eyes snapped up to their commanding officer, Major Fa. She was of short stature, around five foot five, with a rounded face and jet black hair that she preferred to leave down, but for the sake of her soldiers, she had to appear like a man and put it up. Her eyes twinkled knowingly as she spotted a new young recruit struggling to hide a piece of food in his sleeve. She shook her head and withheld a laugh.

"Mah." She singled him out while he futilely fiddled with the food with as much strict authority she could muster. Mulan noticed his hands were behind his back as he bowed.

"We shall be practicing archery today. Go collect thirty bows from the artillery room and bring them back here."

He breathed a sigh of relief after his "Yes, sir!" and took off as fast as he could, grateful that he could finish his meal without being caught.

"And don't forget to finish breakfast next time!" Mulan called after him. A shocked Mah just shouted a "Yes, sir!" and continued running towards the artillery tent. The troops grinned at their training officer: perhaps she wouldn't be as harsh as the legendary Shang's harsh drilling. However, they were soon disappointed when Mah had returned and Major Fa demonstrated archery techniques for shooting a plum. When commanded to try, most failed miserably at hitting the fruit they had launched, their fingers red and swollen by noon. She dismissed them for lunch and proceeded to report to the general.

The rest of the day continued without incident, other than the expected soldier who could not swim, keep up, or face his fears. By dusk, all were tired, although a bit more knowledgeable in the ways of battle. Mulan was almost too tired to meet up with Shang, but committed herself to go. Yao and Ling were to show up as well, since they had been both promoted to Captains and needed a bit of brushing up on their fighting skills as well.

Mulan went back to her tent to change into a clean training uniform. When she met up for the session, Ling and Yao had already started warming up, but Shang was not there yet. She waved a greeting, and they amicably chattered about their respective troops. Each of them was to train forty to fifty soldiers when enough men joined. So far, they had just under 130 recruits, so between Shang, Mulan, Ling and Yao, they each could take just over thirty men to train. The three friends stretched and prepared for hand to hand combat with each other and their general. Surprisingly, he had not arrived yet; Shang was usually punctual because he was very disciplined. Mulan shrugged it off, and she challenged Yao to a warmup round.

Just as she was about to deliver a rear kick at Yao's gut, a moving familiar figure distracted her enough to miss her target. Yao, seizing the opportunity, tripped her and claimed himself "King of the rock". Helping her up, he noticed how distracted she was. Searching the shadows, she spotted the figure in the dark.

"Hey! Mushu!"

Shang watched as Mulan was defeated by Yao. 'Funny, she's never missed with a rear kick before,' he thought to himself. His doubts were confirmed when she started running towards a tree, apparently looking for something, without bothering to dust herself off. Shang's curiosity got the better of him and he left his private rock overlooking the camp.

"Uh oh, Crikee, I think we've been spotted!"

The lucky cricket could only agree as a bewildered Mulan frantically searched in the dark for her guardian dragon.

"Mushu, I know you're here."

Suddenly, flames burst up and once again Mulan witnessed the outline of a dragon on the tree. However, she was not intimidated this time, and found the fire behind a large rock. Unfortunately, a branch caught fire and dropped on the ominous figure before it could say a word.

"Ow!" The shadow turned towards the cricket as it chirped in what could be interpreted as a laugh. "It isn't funny! Not like the last time when that cow..." Mulan had picked up Mushu by the tail and he squealed in protest.

"Gotcha!" she exclaimed.

"Got what?" a deep voice said behind her.

"General! You surprised me," Mulan said as she stuffed said lizard into her pocket. "It was just a firefly."

"You should never be caught unaware, Major Fa. The Japanese and Huns are both known for being stealthily silent," he reprimanded. He glanced at her curiously as she looked down at her feet.

"Yes, I apologize, General." She hated it when she did something wrong. Shang still was able to make her uncomfortable and feel incompetent, even though he did not mean to. His skills still surpassed hers, and even with all of her accomplishments, an insecurity and aim to please instilled in her since birth forced her to be more submissive around her superior, especially since he now knew she was a female.

"Now how about joining me for a quick spar?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes, sir." Mulan answered, rolling her shoulders, a bit sore from a blow delivered to her back courtesy of Yao. She eyed Yao and Ling, who had just finished sparring and were gesturing that they were heading to dinner. Mulan waved them off, promising to join them later when she was done with her tutorial from Shang.

Turning back to Shang, she positioned herself into a fighting stance after a quick bow. He did the same, and the fight between teacher and pupil began.

Something they had both discovered from their session was that Mulan never attacked first. She could never bring herself to do so, and she never knew why. She had learned early on that she was quickly flipped or dodged whenever she made the first move, and now she had conservatively refused to initiate contact. However, Mulan had also learned that she could predict whenever Shang was about to strike. His hard eyes would narrow, and his weight would shift ever so slightly. He would look as cold as the high mountains of the north, and she could not remember that he was her friend, not some heartless cold-blooded killer. They had become friends since that dinner with her family, but when they were sparring, he was a ruthless warrior who would give her no advantage.

They stood four feet apart, watching, waiting. The tension grew as they circled each other for a few moments. Mulan's prediction came true as Shang narrowed his eyes slightly and faked a side kick to her right. Prepared, she dodged to her left, but was caught off guard when Shang had swiftly used his kick to travel behind her. In a vulnerable position, she hurriedly spun around and aimed a punch at his jaw. He blocked, grabbing her wrist. He attempted to flip her over his shoulder, since her weight was toward him, but she pushed on his chest with her trapped arm and pulled his left leg towards her with her right leg. This threw Shang off balance, and he fell to the ground with a thud. Since he was still holding Mulan's wrist, she was awkwardly bending over him, almost falling over. She thanked female flexibility and helped Shang to his feet, trying to hide her smirk. Shang dusted himself off, resisting the urge to rub his bare backside.

During their last spar, Shang had succeeded in flipping Mulan over when he had blocked a punch. Mulan had been reluctant to get off the ground, good naturedly bemoaning his harsh treatment with a mischievous look in her eyes. That had elicited an unwarranted smile from him as he helped her up, but she had tripped him while getting up. She was rewarded with another small smile this time, and no expected trip. She had learned from their last encounter.

No words were exchanged, but both parties knew that a rematch was to come before their session tomorrow. However, hunger urged them to head back to the main camp for a meal. Shang pulled on a robe and Mulan took her hair down from the tight bun. While walking to the mess hall, Mulan's stomach growled loudly and she rolled her eyes as Shang raised a mocking eyebrow. They spent their meal welcoming a new female nurse named Chui Wei and telling her to ignore Yao and Ling's advances. Mulan had checked her pocket for Mushu once, but found him already gone. She dismissed speculations of his whereabouts in her head and turned back to the conversation. When they were done with their meal, Shang and Mulan went back to the open field to spar.

By now the sun's glow over the horizon was long gone and stars were twinkling across the night sky. The moon was full and out in its subtle glory, illuminating the open field, yet darkening the long shadows cast by trees and rocks. The two figures approached the center of the field and each held their breath for a moment of silence. Only the crickets chirping and the occasional sway of the wind broke the tranquil moment, and soon the two figures faced each other, bowed, and fell into fighting stances.

General Li Shang, a master of martial arts by upbringing and nature, studied the brave woman opposing him. She whose captivating dark eyes still held mirth after all she had seen in her time with the Imperial Army. She, the only one who would tell him when he was out of line, or surprise him by making him the subject of a joke. She who he had been incoherent around when he had met her father, and she whose way of thinking was still intangible to him. Her black hair was down, swirling slowly in the breeze, framing her face and casting shadows across half of her face. Her slanted eyes were serious now, and he met her intense gaze with his calm one. The moon shone down on her hair, dipping sharply in the folds of her training uniform and highlighting angles of her delicate, but determined face. She looked ready for him, and Shang never once took his wary eyes off of her.

Meanwhile, Mushu and Crikee were planning to set up camp in Mulan's tent.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" Mushu asked as he sauntered into a random tent, eliciting a shriek from a towel wrapped Chi Fu.

"Nope, although this one looks nice. Nice digs! Look what my lil' baby has done for herself! She gets her own tent, now that the boys know she's cross-dressing. I wonder what's fo' supper..."

Crikee did his best to ignore the obnoxious dragon as he prattled on, and Crikee quickly found himself a scroll to read in a nearby tent.

Mulan noticed the unusually long time it was taking for Shang to attack. She resisted attacking first, trusting her instincts to pick up on any indicative movement. He looked like a tiger, always a bit dark and always intense. His body moved with a surreal grace, his motions always fluent and muscles rippling with every shift of weight. He was liquid, lithe and athletic. Shang was a formidable opponent. Not only in his body, but in mind as well. A man of few words, he always tried to control himself. In his young age, he was naive in many respects, but because he was aged beyond his years, to most, he came off as confident and powerful, like a tiger.

Shang's square jaw tensed a bit, and Mulan took her cue to jump over his leg that swept underneath her. She managed to place a weak roundhouse to his ribs and land two feet away from his crouched figure. She regained her balance and waited for him to come to her again, breathing heavily in anticipation. The moonlight flashed in Shang's eyes as he delivered a punch that grazed Mulan's cheek. She had turned in time, blocking him with her arm and attempted a front kick to make him back off. Although she had the advantage of being small, Mulan never liked close combat, mainly because her opponents usually could overpower her and she could not anticipate their movements from such a range. Shang was no exception, and he knew if he could avoid her defensive blocks and kicks, he could knock her over with little effort.

The general advanced on the small major again in a rapid succession of punches and blocks. Blow for blow, Mulan matched him, and their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Mulan knew she could not keep up her defense much longer, for Shang was stronger, albeit a bit slower than her. Her arms were tiring, and soon Shang had grabbed both of her wrists and pinned her on the ground. She ceded him the victory after little prodding, but when the general was reluctant to let her up, she managed to twist an arm free and push herself, and him, off of the cold dirt beneath her. Shang, realizing that he was still pinning her, let her up and apologized.

"Sorry, I didn't realize what I was doing. Are you okay?"

Mulan rubbed her wrists a bit ruefully, wincing slightly at the soreness there. "It's all right. I'll be fine," she said curtly. "Good night General Li."

"Good night Major Fa," Shang replied as he watched her retreating back.

Heading back towards camp, Mulan did not wait for Shang to follow her as she strode purposefully towards her tent. Once she entered, she changed into a set of nightclothes she had brought along. This time in the army, she would not be wearing the same outfit to sleep as during the day.

While brushing her hair, Mulan decided to write a letter to her family back in the Central Plains. When she unrolled a black piece of paper, she found a stirring Mushu.

"Hey! That's mine," she chided him as a flame yawn scorched the edge of the paper.

"Hey sister, it's my sleeping bag. What does a dragon have to do to get some shut eye 'round here? By the way, what's the score now? Shang: 40, Mulan: 41?" He grinned lazily at her, managing to scramble onto her shoulder. He whipped out a piece of paper with tally marks on it, adding one mark under a column labeled 'Shang' and one under the other column labeled 'Mulan'.

"Mushu, I don't keep track," she answered. "But am I really winning by one? I thought we were tied."

"If you count that time you tripped him after he won..." Mushu hid in her shirt as soon as he saw her irritatedly reach for him. "It's not my fault if you just wanted him on the ground..."

Mulan sighed, giving up on her letter. She shook out Mushu from her shirt and went down to the lake to wash up, towel in hand.

Shang sat on his reflection spot, his private place of solitude. It was atop an outcropping of rock that overlooked the camp and always had the perfect view of the moon, no matter what season. He had found the spot as a boy of five when he had been upset about something or other. He could not even remember what he had been upset about, only that he had wanted to run away from home. An innate force stopped him, and instead he found a spot where he could be alone. He had come here to reflect on his father's death, his own promotion to general, and his developing friendship with his officers. Tonight, he pondered nothing, letting his thoughts wander from his hesitation at letting Mulan up, to the return of Yao and Ling, to eventually, his father.

His father's death had hit him hard, although he was not allowed to show it when battling the Huns. His private feelings could not distract from the tasks at hand, and he knew that mourning his father would not help them defeat the Huns.

Shang recalled the bloody scene in the snow, all dead, the Imperial Army of China. Broken flags bearing the symbol of China lay ragged, some of their poles sticking in bodies of dead soldiers. Nothing stood, nothing moved as the smell of ashes and burnt flesh tinged the air. White imperial stallions, one found still barely alive, slaughtered by large red slashes across their beautiful hides. The live one wanted to be put out of its misery, and Shang still winced at the pain in the animal's eyes. It had begged him for a way out, to end the cruelty and devastation. Shang had been touched by it, and mercifully the animal had shuddered and died shortly thereafter.

Shortly thereafter, Chien Po had carefully handed Shang the helmet of his father with a look of sympathy and grief.

"The...general?" Chien Po's silent question was answered by Shang's distraught expression. Shang felt the whole world fall out from under him. All of his life, he had wanted to be like his father: dignified, powerful, and honorable. His father had always represented the ideals of honor, and he had always guided Shang whenever he strayed from his path. He was always proud of his son, always expecting him to be the best.

And the best Shang became. A loving father who could not show his love to his only child, and a son who did not understand why he could not show his father he loved him. Shang had always wanted to tell him, always waited for the right moment. The right moment never came, and now, it never would.

Shang was surprised that no tears had come that day for his father, his fallen idol. His father had always seemed invincible to Shang, but now, Li Hung's image was all that was left for him.

For the first time since his father's death, Shang felt tears reach his eyes as he looked at the full moon.