Continued out of sheer boredom. Thanks for the reviews, everyone!
Yeah, the tense has switched to past. Sorry; I shouldn't have used present tense in the first chapter now that this is going to be a longer fic.
I also apologize for my lack of knowledge regarding ranks in the Chinese military - I'm assuming that private is the basic rank, like in the American army, since research yielded no results. Also, the recruitment process discussed between Shang and Mulan does exist in China - that is how women are selected. I don't mean to offend, but these are the facts. The articles I read were from 2009, however, so there may have been a change in the process that I'm not aware of. If so, please PM me!
Ling shuffled the deck of cards and dealt everyone at the table a hand, Yao watching him closely to ensure that there was no sleight of hand. Mulan picked up her pile and glanced at it uninterestedly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was late evening and the trainees had just finished dinner, leaving them about an hour of free time before their night jog and subsequent lights out. The varnished wooden tables gleamed dully under the single lamp hanging over each one.
"Good thing the Captain was there this morning, huh?" Ling commented, throwing down two cards. "Two aces."
Yao rolled his eyes. "Forget the Captain; Chi Fu is just being a bastard. There has to be something we can do."
"Challenge a superior?" Chien Po asked, shocked. "All of our heads would be on the line."
"Forget about it." Mulan picked out three cards. "Three fours."
"Bullshit." She smiled as Yao flipped the cards over and swore again, finding exactly three fours. He took the pile and started the next.
"We can't just leave it alone," Ling said indignantly. "As your honorary brothers, we're honor-bound to protect you! ... Or something. Still."
"Yeah, cause I can't protect myself despite the intense training we receive for hours on end everyday," Mulan snorted. "Not to mention what I learned before I came to the Academy: karate, taekwondo, ju-jitsu, muay thai, judo, kendo - "
"Yeah, yeah, shut up a bit," Yao growled. "Two eights."
"B.S.," Chien Po said delicately, flipping over the cards. "Take the pile, Yao."
"You suck at this game," Ling snorted. Yao turned an interesting shade of puce.
"I do not."
"You do to, you've already taken two piles and we haven't gotten past the first round."
"I'll give you two piles - two piles of fists!"
"Please, as if you came out on top last time."
"You wanna go, chicken boy?"
Mulan and Chien Po pulled the two men apart resignedly, a chair falling to the ground as cards scattered everywhere.
"Honestly, it's only been two days - "
"I think we need to go over our chants again - "
"Fa Mulan?" The cool voice of an Academy messenger broke into the scuffle. Ling and Yao froze, Mulan letting go of the former's arms to face the young boy. His cheeks were flushed from running, yet he kept his posture straight and voice calm.
Mulan often pitied the messengers - the Academy building was huge and not modern at all, a long line of Headmasters refusing to update the old Chinese structure with telephones or an intercom system. Because of the need for communication, the Academy used a system of messengers. Running from one end of the building to the other took about seven minutes, and that was discounting the usual crowd that blocked the way. That, coupled with the sometimes-lengthy messages that they had to memorize after just one hearing, made the messenger's job most arduous. In recompense, these boys were rewarded with favorable prospects when they applied to the Academy to serve as trainees later on in their lives. There had been no girl messengers in the history of the Academy, something that left Mulan unsurprised.
She forced her thoughts back to the messenger in front of her. "Yes, what do you have to tell me?"
"Captain Li Shang requires your presence in his office."
Mulan blinked in confusion. What could he possibly need? We'd already discussed the Chi Fu issue this morning. "I... yes, of course. Thank you." The messenger bowed and trotted away, shoulders drooping slightly now that his job was complete.
"The Captain?" Chien Po looked as puzzled as she felt. "Was there some piece of the issue that you overlooked this morning?"
"I don't think so..." she muttered, recalling the conversation.
"You'd better not keep him waiting," Ling said, shrugging. "He'll explain when you get there."
Mulan agreed and said a quick goodbye, gathering her hair into a quick topknot as she jogged off. She arrived at the office in three minutes and knocked softly, waiting for the firm "Enter" before twisting the knob and swinging the door open.
"You wanted to see me, Captain?"
Li Shang looked up from his papers. "At ease." Mulan relaxed, widening her stance and gripping her hands together behind her back. "It's about your essay."
Oh. Every trainee was required to write and submit an essay during final year that detailed what profession he (or she) desired to enter after the Academy. The most popular answer was, of course, entering the military. A few trainees opted towards teaching at the Academy, and an even smaller group decided to return home, having completed Academy training simply to uphold family tradition and honor. Mulan had gone down the generic path, following her plan to enter the military as a private in the Beijing army region. As far as she knew, trainees did not specifically discuss their essays with their supervising officers, so why Shang had called her in was still a mystery.
"Was there something wrong with the composition, sir?"
"No," he said shortly, brow furrowing. "But Chi Fu has, quite predictably, taken offense to it."
Mulan bit back a scowl. "Does he consider me unworthy to serve in the military due to my sex?"
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly at her acerbic tone, though it straightened so quickly that she almost believed she'd imagined it. "In summary, yes. There is no law that forbids it, but... I'm sure you've heard of the, ah, unique selection process?" His soldier's demeanor forbade it, but Mulan was sure that he would be grimacing if he could. "The talent portion of the interview?"
She had heard the news two years ago, of course, and almost thrown her belongings across the room when her small radio had broadcast it. A 30 second interview, followed by 2.5 minute question and answer, followed by a 2 minute talent show. Were they trying to mock women? What did singing or dancing or any "artistic ability" have to do with gaining a spot in the military? There were rumors that physical appearance was judged too - the 1.6 meter height requirement was no secret, and a pretty face opened almost any door these days. One only had to look at the Liberation Army's 60-year anniversary parade - and the women's militia display - to see evidence of that. Pink uniforms, pink go-go boots, women who hadn't even been part of the army but had still been chosen to represent it because of their good looks. Mulan felt the familiar outrage bubble in her chest.
"You know I don't agree with Chi Fu," Shang said uncomfortably, snapping her attention back to him. "But the law is the law, and these restrictions coupled with his disapproval will make it harder for you to enter service. I called you in so I could warn you, as well as to gauge how willing you are to take on these challenges." He eyed her with careful neutrality. "Are you still willing to enter service?"
Mulan straightened, shifting so her feet were together with her hands pressed to her sides in formal stance. "I'll do whatever it takes, sir."
He was silent for a few moments, expression giving nothing away. Then he nodded, pulling a sheet of paper from the top of a pile and handing it to her. "This was his memo."
She stepped forward to take it, her fingers accidentally jarring against his. They both jumped back from the contact, Mulan quickly focusing on the characters in front of her to avoid his gaze. She skimmed it quickly, phrases such as "unworthy to hold even a private's rank" and "dishonor to the People's Liberation Army" jumping out at her. The Councilman had signed off with a barbed, "I will be opposing her recruitment every step of the way - there are too many women in the Army already, and this unsatisfactory creature will only diminish the prestige of our country." She took deep breaths and willed herself not to lose it in front of her superior.
"So not only am I a woman, I am an unsatisfactory woman," Mulan bit out, striving to keep her voice level. "I apologize for my shortcomings, Captain."
"Don't be ridiculous," Shang said, tone just as sharp. "If you are willing to serve, then there is no reason why you should not. You're capable, talented, and determined. Let me handle Chi Fu."
The chances of receiving a compliment from Li Shang were like the chances of catching Fa Mulan in a dress; that is, slim to none. She bowed her head silently and placed the memo back on his desk. "Is that all, sir?"
He stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder, the weight warm and reassuring. "Don't worry, Mulan. It will all work out." His thumb glanced her collarbone before he removed his hand, motioning for her to exit.
Startled at both the usage of her name and the unexpected contact, she inclined her head again and walked out, posture stiff and exemplary. Once the door shut behind her, she slumped against the wall and buried her face in her hands.
Does not the same blood run in my veins? Does not the same patriotism make my heart pound fast and strong? Does not the same desire to serve my country fuel my every waking moment? I cannot be turned away from the army simply because I am a woman. I cannot.
I will not.