"Hey! That last egg roll was mine," an irritated and hungry Mushu complained. Mulan took a bite of the small piece of food, making satisfied sounds as she swallowed. It was always nice to wake up to a ready made breakfast. She ate the rest of the morsel.
"Mmmm, these are really good. Thanks Mushu," Mulan said, licking the last trace of it off of her lips. Mushu had cooked the egg rolls at dawn, along with rice, soup, and pork. She patted his small head affectionately, which sent him off mumbling about getting mushy and being hungry. Crikee could only shrug, offer a chirp or two, and hop off to be the faithful watcher of the reckless dragon.
Mulan rolled her head back, massaging the back of her neck with a hand. 'So tempting,' she thought as she plopped back onto her bed, closing her eyes in feigned sleep. 'But I have to set an example now.' With that thought, she quickly tied up her hair in a topknot, dressed in her training outfit, and headed out to face the day. She was in a better mood than the previous day, and had the distinct feeling that all was okay in the world for the moment.
Her feeling was wrong.
There was news, and it was not good. She first heard it whirling in the midst of young amateurs at breakfast; then by the trusted word of a lieutenant; then from Yao. Snippets and rumors, but enough to give her a picture she did not want to see.
"No, Shan Yu can't be alive," Mulan said, denying Yao's statement.
"The emperor received a death threat signed by the monster. It can only be him," Yao insisted.
"But it could be a forgery, couldn't it?"
"It has his seal, a bird holding a twisted sword." Yao grimaced at the memory of the bird.
"But-"
"Have you heard?" Chu rudely interrupted, wedging between the two comrades, "He's demanding our...major here as ransom when he captures the capital. That should be an interesting trade, don't you think?"
Mulan narrowed her eyes at his "when", not "if" statement.
"No one wants to know what you've heard, string bean, buzz off," Yao growled, punching a fist into his palm ominously. Chu yawned in the face of the shorter man and strode away, unbothered by the threat.
Mulan put a restraining hand on Yao's shoulder to keep him from going after Chu. "We have bigger problems," she murmured.
"I know. But you just say the word, princess, and I'll take care of him for you." Yao relaxed his fighting stance a bit. "Real good care of him."
"I appreciate it." She squeezed his shoulder in gratitude. In afterthought, she punched his shoulder lightly. "And don't call me princess."
A cough interrupted Yao's thoughts of retaliation. It was Shang.
"Yao, may I see Major Fa in private." It was not a question, but a nudge of an order.
"Of course," Yao conceded, wandering off to find Chien Po.
Mulan followed Shang to where the horses were being kept. He saddled up his dappled stallion Song, expecting Mulan to do the same. She mounted Khan bareback, trusting her extensive training with him as a young girl. She did not put on a bridle either, only a halter that she could use to lead him if need be. He would respond to the pressure of her legs, and she trusted him like a brother.
Memories of the lake incident pervaded her mind. Okay, an annoying but lovable brother.
If Shang was impressed by her horsemanship he didn't show it. He led her towards the sea, the horses' hooves gently sinking in the sand. Misty winds full of salt caressed their faces, two distinctive profiles watching the undulation of the waves on the shore. The water struggled up the beach, gaining little more than it lost, again and again. The soothing rhythm broke with the rumble of approaching dark clouds.
"Princess, eh?" Shang asked, his thoughts as murky as the vast sea before him.
"Now don't you start," Mulan chided, eyes following the little foam bubbles that appeared and vanished on the shore. Their comfortable silence remained a while longer until thunder sounded again.
"Shan Yu is alive," Shang said, tired but not yet spent. The water looked dark and powerful to his eyes.
"I know. There's nothing we can do about it right now," Mulan acquiesced. Shang hesitated before releasing more information.
"The emperor wants you to return to the capital."
Mulan slowly nodded. Why was Shang being so guarded with his words?
"...in a fortnight," he completed.
"Oh," was all Mulan could manage for a moment. The Imperial City was well over a week away on horseback. "Then I have to leave by tomorrow."
Affirmative nod from her superior. Sad, weary eyes from her friend.
"Be Careful. Send word." Four words, nonchalant and formal. Mulan closed her eyes briefly before returning her gaze to the turbulent water. It was all so futile. 'The water or your feelings?' a voice nagged her. Tears began to form in her eyes.
Shang pondered for a moment longer.
"He is like the waves, battering on the shores of China. He comes back again, like he did many years ago."
"Or maybe we are the waves, always falling back no matter how far we go," Mulan said darkly.
Khan moved beneath her, signaling his impatience. Song did the same, a bit nervous from the occasional flash of lightning. His ears were back and one could see the white of his eyes.
"We should head back," Mulan suggested, her voice sounding distant even to her own ears. She knew full well that the conversation was far from over. However, the lightning was too close, and Song looked ready to jump out of his skin.
Shang turned his mount around, clucking to Song to urge him forward. Mulan followed his lead, reserved and deep in thought. They both didn't notice the dark shadow that followed them.
Mulan was unusually quiet after talking to Shang, Chien Po noted. She only stopped to tell them that she would leave at next dawn for the Imperial City. She was close to tears, and the three friends had gathered her into a group hug, declaring that they would miss her and made her promise to return safely. "I have to go pack," she muttered as she rushed off to the solitude of her quarters. The lame excuse accompanied with her urgency to be alone almost stung the three hardened soldiers.
"Hey guys, did you notice how upset Mulan was?" Ling furtively asked after she was out of earshot. The three friends threw worried glances at her retreating back in the distance.
"Yeah, but I didn't think she would miss us that much," Yao said, his gruff voice making it impossible to tell if he was joking or not.
"I do not believe we are the source of her distress," Chien Po stated matter-of-factly.
"Could it be that sardine Chu?" Yao asked, his body instantly tensing. "He always gives her a hard time."
"No, she ignores the jerk," Ling said dejectedly. Rule out suspect number one.
"It couldn't be a certain general of ours, could it?" Chien Po asked innocently.
"What do you mean by that?" Ling asked, oblivious.
"You don't know? She's got a soft spot for the pretty boy!" Yao exclaimed. Ling's blank expression revealed that the concept had never crossed his mind.
"Well, she is alone with him a lot," Ling pondered, "but then again, so are we."
"If we're together with him, we're not alone, smart one," Yao pointed out.
"Literally yes, but I think what he means is that it is not unusual for a general to talk alone with his only major." Chien Po tried to calm the two down before they could start fighting.
"And how do we know that it's him anyway?" Yao asked, getting back to the topic .
"Because we're her friends. We just know these things," Ling said mischievously, tapping a finger to his temple. Yao rolled his good eye.
"I saw them riding towards the beach a while ago," Chien Po said, nodding his head in the direction Mulan had come from.
"Isn't that her horse over there in the clearing?" Ling asked, squinting at the dark four-legged animal five hundred steps away. "Yep, it is," he confirmed.
"Yeah, so that means the last person she talked to was Shang," Yao deduced .
"So he said or did something that is making her cry," Ling followed slowly, realization dawning on his features.
"Which is what we have to find out," Yao added. "But we can't just ask her."
"Why not?" Chien Po questioned. "If we are her friends, she can talk to us."
"She probably doesn't want to talk to anybody right now. Didn't she look like she was about to cry?" Ling sighed, resigned.
"Whatever pretty boy did-"
"Or said," Chien Po added unhelpfully.
"-or said," Yao revised, "we have to find out from the tough guy himself, not Mulan."
"But we don't know Shang," Ling whined. "And you two aren't the best of friends," he added pointedly at Yao.
"True, but if Mulan really does like him, he probably doesn't even know what he did," Chien Po said.
"He probably said something insensitive. I did that once to this girl in my home village," Chien Po suggested. Yao and Ling shrugged; it had happened to both of them on more than one occasion. Mothers, sweethearts, and sisters; they all had nerves of rice pudding when an insensitive remark came from a loved one.
"Yeah, that must be it," Ling said quietly. A long silence ensued between the three of them, each lost in thought.
"We should probably keep out of Mulan's business," Chien Po finally said. Yao and Ling hastily agreed. The three captains were once again silently concerned about their friend as they watched the approaching storm, the rolling clouds ominous and forebidding.
"Hey, what's all this rush girl?" Mushu asked as Mulan rushed around her tent, grabbing the few essential items that she could pack up.
Mulan, however, did not notice her companion. His question went unheeded as her jumbled thoughts raced through her head. Her tent and sleeping roll would have to wait for tomorrow. She could leave her bed to one of her friends; she certainly couldn't take it with her. Pack up the scrolls, wrap up the ink block, clean the writing brushes, fold clothes into a bundle, set out the armor. 'Just keep moving, keep moving,' she thought, forcing her tears back.
There was only so much to pack, bundle, clean and prepare for in her sparse tent. A soldier, whatever their rank, learned to live on the bare essentials. Mulan's only luxuries were (besides a family guardian and a lucky cricket) a picture of her family and the flower comb that had been passed down among her ancestors. She stopped momentarily at the picture, her finger tracing her the reproduction of her family tenderly. She missed them terribly, for she had gone as soon as she had returned. Albeit the homesickness distracted her for but a moment, it allowed other feelings to reach her.
'Why am I even upset, it's not like he likes me or anything,' Mulan chided herself shamefully, finally ceasing her frantic movement around her tent.
'Because you love him,' a little voice in her head nagged her. Mulan was too frustrated and upset to remember the last time she had held a conversation with her conscience.
'It doesn't matter, how could he ever love someone like me?' Mulan questioned darkly, tears flowing freely down her pale cheeks. She did not notice Crikee and Mushu on her shoulder, hugging her loose black hair.
The voice in her head had no answer, no reassurances for her doubts.
"That's what I thought," Mulan muttered aloud. By now everything was ready that could be ready for the next day and it was sunset. Dinner would be ready soon, and that required social interaction. Mulan decided against eating, exhausted and resolute from the news of her invitation to the capital. She would nap until predawn, then she would set off for the Imperial City. No one would see her in the gray of the early morning light. No one would see her tears.