Falling. I was vaguely aware of my rapid decent in a sea of snow and ice. I was grappling on the edge of unconsciousness, and all I could hear was the roar as the sheet of cold pounded into the ground below me. My head ached. My legs throbbed. I was jerked to a stop, my head snapping back, adding yet another pain to my body.

Was I dead? Had I hit the bottom? I could still feel the soreness in my body. I groaned and tried to pick myself up, but couldn't get ahold of anything.

"Shang? Shang? Captain?"

I cracked open my eyes, and the world swam before me. Slowly, as it righted itself, I saw the blanket of snow on the ground leaving just the peaks of trees appearing. Hundreds of feet below me. I froze. Instead of the ground hurtling towards me, I was slowly rising, growing farther and farther away. I felt arms wrap around me, and for a second, I saw Ping's worried face hovering above me. I was dragged backwards, my feet leaving trails in the snow. I was laid softly on the ground, gasping for breath as my body suddenly realized the physical activities I had been involved in.

Ping slowly crawled up beside me, showing signs of being in just as much pain as I was, although I tried not to show it. I surveyed him, trying to recall how this had happened. I had watched him in front of me, gripping the reins of his horse. Hadn't he been safe? How did he manage to... My mind was swimming, the pieces slowly started falling into place. Had he gone back for me? Had he really turned around, risking his life, risking a horse, a key mode of transportation if someone was injured, for me. He had jumped off of a cliff to save his harsh, intimidating, unlikeable commanding officer.

"Ping," I gasped, "You are the craziest man I've ever met!"

His face was solemn and he gazed at his knees; panting. I immediately felt guilty, and my face softened. I didn't always need to be the harsh mentor. I wasn't my father. As hard as I tried. Fear wasn't always respect. I wasn't afraid of Ping, I had never been afraid, but I respected him more than any other man. So I added,

"And for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my trust." He met my gaze, looking astonished, and I smiled.

"Let's hear it for Ping, the bravest of us all!" Ling cried, and all of the troops cheered. Ping smiled, looking a little overwhelmed, and shakily rose to his feet, and collapsed again.

"Ping!" I could hear the panic in my voice, "What's wrong?" He groaned and brought his hand away from his side. Blood stained his fingertips.

"He's wounded! Get help!" I kneeled in front of him. His eyes were unfocused.

"Hold on," I whispered. "Hold on." And he was gone.

"Ling! Go to the nearest town. Get a healer." He nodded and departed, running full-speed. "Yao! Chien Po! Set up a tent! Quickly, now!" I slid my arms under Ping, lifting him cautiously from the ground. He moaned.

"Hold on, Ping," I whispered. I easily carried Ping away from the edge of the cliff, and tried to make my strides as smooth as possible. By the time I reached the site, the tent was already set up. I nodded towards the men. Chien Po swept the tent flap open, and I stepped inside.

All we had were several blankets, and I lay Ping down cautiously down on one. I turned another into a roll and gingerly placed it beneath his head. His heavy armour was still on, but I wouldn't risk removing it if it would hurt him even more. I grabbed the last blanket and swept it over him. I knelt beside the make-shift bed and gave a short, stiff laugh. I finally had a friend, and he is now near death.

What seemed like hours later, an old, wrinkled man appeared at the door of the tent. He held a mangled bag in one hand. I understood immediately, and bowed to the healer before exiting. Now, to wait.

-

I paced outside of the tent, back and forth.

"He'll be fine! Don't worry, Captain," Chien Po's gentle voice floated from where the troops sat. I smiled, although it turned out more like a grimace, and continued to pace.

"He will," Ling assured, "The bravest of us all, right?" The men nodded in agreement. My hands were shaking. I went from knowing my whole army would die to being impossibly concerned when one of my soldiers was injured. But Ping wasn't just any soldier. He was crazy enough to do something incredibly stupid, as well as risk his life to save China. To save the army. To save me. I would never forget that. I owed him everything.

Finally, the healer emerged from the tent. The creases and lines in his face made him look grim, and my heart sank. Relax, I thought, you're getting ahead of yourself. I approached the healer.

"Well? How, um, how is he?" I tried to even my voice, but the healer shook his head.

"Fine. But, well, there's something you should know." My hands began to shake uncontrollably.

"What? What is it?" He shook his head again.

"He is not a he." My eyes widened.

"Uh, what? That's, no, that's, that's, not possible!"

"Well, apparently–" But I didn't let him finish. I barged into the tent, my pulse once again pounding in my ears. Ping lay on the ground, calm, serene. Just Ping. I relaxed. But he realized I was there, and sat up. The blanket fell away and, and–

Ping saw my shocked expression and looked down. He– she– pulled the blanket back up.

"I can explain," No longer Ping, the stranger before me looked up; eyes watching me closely. I turned away. Chi Fu burst through the tent flap.

"So it's true!" I had never felt so, so, betrayed. I charged out of the tent.

"Shang!" Ping called. No, not Ping. Not anymore. Chi Fu followed me, pulling along, that woman.

"I knew there was something wrong with you!" He pulled at Ping's hair, and it fell around his – her – shoulders. He through her into the snow. "Treacherous snake!"

"My name is Mulan," she called. I had turned my back, but could not look back. "I did it to save my father." This time, I turned.

"High treason!" called Chi Fu.

"I didn't mean for it to go this far!" Chi Fu leaned his mousy face close to hers.

"Ultimate dishonour!"

"It was the only way!" I turned away, once again, trying to hide my emotions. "Please, believe me."

"Hmph," Chi Fu returned to my side. "Captain." He nodded knowingly. I glanced back. She sat, huddled in the snow, the blanket pulled around her shoulders. She looked so, so, small. I knew what I had to do. I grabbed the sword sheathed at Ping's, Mulan's, horse's side. It fought against it's restraints, and I was faintly aware of Chi Fu barking orders. I approached her.

Ping, Mulan. Mulan, Ping. They were the same, weren't they? But no, that's not true. Ping saved my life. Ping defeated an entire army single-handedly. But Mulan? She commited high treason. Ping was a soldier. Mulan was a criminal. But Ping lied to me. To everyone. Mulan risked her life to save her father's.

I knew my decision.