When it became evident that Po would not speak, Ping took his mind off of his breaking heart by coming up with ways of communication. Po was going to school to learn his characters, but until he learned them all he and Ping made do with gestures. Writing down everything all the time really wasn't practical, especially when Po was helping with the shop; there just wasn't time. So Ping and his son gradually made up a language of gestures and motions so that Po could convey what he wanted to say without having to write it down or clutch at his head in exasperation.
But even after almost two decades, Ping never forgot the sound of his child's laughter.
The villagers had become used to their big, silent neighbor in the years he had lived and grown among them. His muteness had been treated with curiosity and pity at first, but by the time Po was thirty Mr. Ping was the only one who really remembered when the panda had ever been an active talker. Po still helped his father with his shop, and the customers were used to seeing him clap his paws to gain Ping's attention, then wave his arms and fingers around in strange motions. The children of the village always asked him about it, and after a while Po made up several dozen little cards, each with a word or phrase on them. Whenever a child asked Po why he waved his paws around instead of speaking he simply pulled out a battered card that read I am mute, so I talk by using hand gestures. More than once a kid had said 'Like this?' and furtively demonstrated an offensive sign. Po had acquired quite a collection.
The cards he kept in numerous small pockets he sewed into his breeches, a pocket for each category. The ones he used most - mainly in the topics of buying something, explaining himself, apologizing, and typical restaurant questions - were kept along his right leg, where he could reach them easily. Cards he didn't use much, as well as a few blanks and a pencil, he had in pockets on his left leg.
Ping had offered to let him stay in the kitchen, and let the goose deal with the customers instead, but Po was a naturally gregarious person, and wasn't willing to let communication difficulties stop him from being so. It didn't mean that things were easy; customers could be really difficult people. Sometimes they wouldn't understand why Po spoke with cards; sometimes they refused to order from him, somehow finding his mere presence an insult; sometimes they just plain couldn't read; lots of times they lost patience. Po dealt their disregard well, although more often than not Mr. Ping would come downstairs in the middle of the night to find his son eating his big, sensitive heart out. Po didn't often let harsh words from strangers get to him, but when regulars and acquaintances lost their patience it always cut him. His muteness had become a part of who he was, and to be disregarded or insulted for a thing he couldn't help hurt deeply. Even his dad would occasionally look at him with sad eyes, but he was by far the only person in the Valley who treated Po without pity or condescension.
In deference to his dad's noodle obsession, Po had managed to keep his passion for all things kung fu a secret, for the most part. Ping knew, of course, since Po often would come back from the market with a scroll or poster about the Jade Palace, but to Ping kung fu was a phase, like tofu had been for him; a silly dream in a young and crazy mind. So when several of the Palace employees went around putting up posters for the choosing of the Dragon Warrior, Po only freaked out internally before calmly clapping his hands and gesturing to the poster.
They're having a tournament over at the Jade Palace, he signed to his dad.
"Oh! Excellent – if we hurry, we can be the first food cart there! Son, help me with this pot."
Po forced himself not to bounce with excitement; he was going to the Jade Palace! He was going to witness one of the greatest events in the history of kung fu – maybe even in the history of China. The Dragon Warrior was a legend, a bringer of peace and balance, and as Po helped his dad stock up the noodle cart he wondered what, exactly, was the occasion. After nearly a thousand years, something must have happened to push Master Oogway to choose him or her. These things didn't just happen because someone said 'Oh, it's the second Sunday of the third month in the year of the rat and I'm bored, why not'; the Dragon Warrior was serious business, and something big must have happened to finally push Oogway into choosing them.
Po laboriously panda-handled the cart up the steps, rather glad that his father had stayed to serve soup to the elderly and others who chose not to attend the tournament. Paws full with hauling the cart, Po wouldn't have been able to talk with him anyway, but thinking about kung fu around his dad always felt a little traitorous, as if the goose could tell his son's mind was focused more on ancient fighting techniques than how to make a good vegetable stock. More than once Po had inadvertently swung his ladle like a sword, chopping at a foe only he could see, and found his dad looking at him like he was crazy. Which he was, but only about kung fu. He supposed obsessing over an occupation ran in the family.
Po shook himself out of his head and looked down to see his progress – only to find himself maybe thirty feet up the stairs. A wave of shock and disappointment broke over him and if he could have screamed he would have shaken the very rock. Po fell backward onto the stairs, clawing at his face with heavy paws.
It would have been a good scream. Birds would have been shaken from trees, wondering what the sound was. Master Shifu would probably have come down to check.
Po dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, wanting to sink into the rock in disappointment. The sound of trotters on stone made him look up, bright sunlight searing his eyes; two pigs who were regulars at the shop were running past him. One of them paused and patted him on the shoulder.
"Maybe next time, Po," he said.
Which was extremely unhelpful, since there wouldn't be a next time.
Po startled, sitting up straight. There wouldn't be a next time. This was his only chance to see the Dragon Warrior being chosen, maybe his only chance to really see the Furious Five.
He glanced over to the noodle cart sitting innocently on the stairs, making his decision. He untied his apron, draped it over the side of the cart, and set his hat down on top, before turning around and sprinting up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.
Which, despite having passed the pigs, wasn't very far. The high noon sun seared into his back, soaking into his heavy fur until he felt like he was sitting on the surface of the sun itself. He slowed to a walk, then a stop. The pigs, looking very confused, walked right past him again. Po took a deep breath, pushed himself up, and followed.
He made it up the stairs maybe two hundred yards and five minutes after the pigs, hauling himself up on his paws and knees until he could fling himself onto the top of the staircase, a silent, triumphant laugh bouncing in his throat. He lay at the very edge of the Thousand Steps, just catching his breath, when a creaking made him too to his right.
The great red gate of the Arena was closing.
No! No, no, no no no…
Po scrambled to his feet, slipping on sand and gravel in his haste to get to the doors, which shut just as he reached them. He barely escaped smashing his face into the wood, and knocked as heavily as he could, to no avail. The doors were shut, the tournament beginning, and no one knew he was out there. His eyes darted around, looking for another entrance and he noticed a small opening in the wall. He backed away from the door and jumped, grabbing onto the edge of the window and peering as best he could into the arena. Most of the village was packed in there, and Po could see a tiny red panda and a larger tortoise on the platform in front.
"…It is my great pleasure to present to you: Monkey; Mantis; Crane; Viper; Tigress: The Furious Five!"
Po's heart swooped in excitement. The crowd chanted joyfully as the warriors suddenly dropped from the sky, briefly demonstrating their individual techniques. Po scrambled as hard as he could to get a better view, before a gust of wind from Master Crane's wings dislodged something and forced a wooden shutter to close over the small window. Po fell backward and rolled, painfully landing on his face. His left eye stung a bit, but he quickly crawled back to the gate, trying to get a look through a hole in the door. Master Crane was up first; Po recognized the contraption he was battling as the Thousand Tongues of Fire, a series of small rockets that required much still and agility to avoid.
Then some pig moved in the way.
Po hit his fist against the door, trying to alert him, but the noise in the Arena was too great, and it didn't work.
'Not working' was a trend that continued with every effort Po made to get into the Arena. He tried to punch through the door (never again), spring up with a bamboo pole, and finally vault up with a whole bunch of bamboo poles, and he eventually had to accept the fact that he wasn't going to get in. He sat on the top of the Thousand Stairs, absently rubbing a stubbed toe, disappointment roiling in his gut. A thousand years of waiting to see the greatest event in kung fu history, and he missed it. The big, fat panda who couldn't get up the stairs without wanting to throw up. It had been stupid to even try.
Behind him, the crowd cheered on and on for their heroes.
"And finally," came Master Shifu's rough voice, "Master Tigress!"
Po jolted and looked around with a shock of sudden desperation. There was no way in hell that he was going to miss his only opportunity to see Master Tigress kick butt. He darted around, trying to find something else he could do, and his eyes fell the tree beside the wall of the arena. He grabbed a rope from a stall of firework, snagged the nearest branch, and hauled.
"Believe me, citizens," called Shifu. "You have not seen anything yet!"
I KNOW, Po screamed to himself, snarling. He pulled the rope over his shoulder until the tree bent nearly to the ground, then used the tension to launch himself in the air. He flew over the edge of the wall and there was Tigress, stance ready, about to fight the Blades of Death. Po just barely saw her lunge at the machine before he smacked into the top of the Arena gate, missed grabbing the edge, and fell onto the fireworks cart. He lay there in defeat, limbs aching, until he heard Shifu yell again.
"Citizens of the Valley of Peace, Master Oogway will now choose the Dragon Warrior!"
The crowd cheered and Po punched his fists into the air, cursing to himself. He made to get up, grabbing at a firework that poked him in the backside, and then froze.
The fireworks.
Po grabbed another rope from the cart and took the chair beside it, quickly tying rockets to the legs and back and knotting the fuses together as best he could. Just like how Master Flying Rhino got his name, he thought triumphantly. He sat down in the seat and struck a match, lighting the twisted fuses just as his dad came running up the stairs, a little noodle hat in his wings.
"PO! What are you doing!"
Ping scampered forward and began blowing out the fuses. Po hurriedly waved him away. I'm going to see the Dragon Warrior, he signed urgently, This is my dream, Dad. Ping made a strangled noise in his throat.
"But I don't understand; what about the shop? What about the noodles?" Po clenched his eyes shut at the disappointment and confusion on his father's face.
Dad, there's nothing wrong with the shop, but…
…The fuses were almost burned to the end…
…I love kung fu!
Po grabbed the seat of the chair, waiting to be rocketed up, determinately not looking at his dad.
And waiting.
And…waiting.
Ping looked from the chair to Po, a little, disappointed grimace on his beak.
"Come on, son," he said, not unkindly. "Let's get back to work."
Po sighed, his nose stinging, but he blinked the tears back. He nodded and made to stand –
- And the rockets burst into life, throwing him forward into the wall with a painful jolt. He heard his dad yelling as he was launched into the air, far, far higher than he had thought he would go, and the chair beneath him disintegrated into ash. Po waved his arms as he fell closer and closer to the stone floor of the Arena, the figures below growing larger, and then everything went black.
Tigress looked up and jumped backward just in time to avoid a huge black-and-white mass, which slammed onto the stone in front of her with a cloud of ash and smoke. Annoyance and astonishment muddled together in her mind as she looked upon an unconscious panda, the first panda she'd actually ever seen. The other four leaned close to him, and Tigress suddenly wondered if he was dead. Mantis gave him a jab between the eyes, and he twitched. The panda made a very soft sound, then fell quiet, blinking painfully at the Masters. He turned his head to the side, and peered directly at the point of Master Oogway's outstretched claw. Tigress felt a jolt of cold excitement. Oogway had been about to point at her.
Suddenly the panda waved his paws and fumbled at the numerous pockets of his breeches, fingers shaking. He sifted through several small and battered cards, each printed back-and-front with a different word or phrase, and Tigress realized that the panda was mute. He held up a card that stated I am very sorry/a thousand pardons before replacing it with another that said, in a messier scrawl, Has the Dragon Warrior been chosen? , and then another that read I am just curious. Oogway, his hand still outstretched, bent down a little, smiling.
"How interesting…." He muttered. Tigress felt she needed to get things clarified, and stepped forward.
"Master, a-are you pointing at me," she said, silently cursing herself for her stutter. The panda, standing up with care, nodded enthusiastically, but Oogway shook his head.
"Him," he said. The panda's brow furrowed, and he shifted to the right; the claw followed him. He shifted back, and it followed him again. He pressed a hand against his chest, the other outstretched questioningly. Oogway smiled.
"Yes, you," he said, moving forward. Tigress stepped back in deference, painful disappointment burning through her. He could not honestly be serious. Oogway raised the bear's left arm with his staff, several cards fluttering from the beast's fingers.
"The Universe has brought us the Dragon Warrior!"
Tigress felt herself snarl in anger and was almost too pissed off to care. The panda was the Dragon Warrior. After twenty years of dedication, of self-isolation and broken bones, only to be humiliated by the first idiot who fell in front of her?
The air filled with thousands of colorful scraps of paper and Tigress watched them fall, heart pounding with a sickening rage as the crowd cheered and screamed around them. Shifu ran down the stairs and she automatically bowed with the others, like the damn perfect student she was...
…But still not good enough, eh?
Tigress felt something cold slide into her belly and forced herself to stop shaking. In her periphery she noticed the panda loading his immense bulk onto a dragon-shaped palanquin, and she clenched her paws tight. To her right, Crane kept throwing nervous glances at her, and she had to hold back the puerile urge to punch him. If she truly was not going to be the Dragon Warrior then she wasn't going to further embarrass herself by being a child about it. Whether or not this was a mistake, she could and would accept it with dignity.
The geese carted the panda away as Master Shifu ran to Grandmaster Oogway and began to argue with him. A warm bloom of shame and disappointment sprouted in Tigress's chest at the sight of him, but to her surprise he argued for her, trying to get Oogway to change his mind.
"Master, wait! That flabby panda cannot be the answer to our problem…"
Tigress looked up for a moment. Problem? What problem?
"You were about to point at Tigress and that…THING fell in front of her – that was just an accident!"
"There are no accidents," said Oogway sagely, just as the panda's weight broke the palanquin. Tigress sighed and walked over to where Shifu was frozen, still gesturing angrily to Oogway's retreating figure. She dropped to one knee and pressed her fist into her palm; the others followed suit.
"Forgive us, Master," she said. "We have failed you."
"No," said Shifu, stopping her. "If the panda has not quit by morning, then I will have failed you."
Tigress, trying not to let her surprise show, nodded and straightened.
"You all should get back to training," Shifu continued, looking towards the stairway, where the Palace's geese and pigs were slowly hauling the panda toward the Sacred Hall of Warriors.
"I will talk to the panda and find out exactly what we have to deal with. We will join you later in the training hall."
Tigress felt a jolt of wariness as he walked away, and looked at her fellow Masters; by their eyes, they felt it too. Surely Shifu wouldn't expect the bear to navigate the obstacle course.
She exchanged glances with Viper as they walked out of the arena.
"He wouldn't, would he?"
Tigress said nothing. After nearly twenty years serving Shifu, training under him, and experiencing his harsh teaching methods, she knew that he would.
"Whatcha lookin' at, buddy?"
Tigress turned to where Mantis was crouched on Monkey's shoulder. Monkey had several of what Tigress recognized as the panda's phrase cards in his hands, most likely the ones he had dropped at Oogway's announcement. Tigress moved until she was climbing the stairs beside Monkey, and peered over his shoulder to see. He handed the cards to her. The characters written were very readable and carefully drawn, and all seemed to be in a category of apologies and explanations:
I am very sorry/a thousand pardons
I apologize
Excuse me
Excuse me, may I pass?
I was just curious
May I look at this?
My condolences for your loss
Please excuse me, I am mute
My apologies, I did not mean to pry
Tigress straightened the cards before handing them to Crane to look at.
"So, he really is mute," Crane muttered, fluttering gently up the stairs to the Training Hall as he examined the cards.
"A mute Dragon Warrior?" said Viper.
"Okay, I am kinda bummed about not being picked, but you have to admit that his entrance was pretty cool," said Mantis.
"Where did he come from," asked Monkey. "So high in the sky – panda's don't fly."
"Leave the poetry to me, please," murmured Crane as he gave the cards back to Tigress. She tucked them into her vest.
"We will see what he is capable of when Shifu brings him to train," she said quietly. The others fell silent, and they walked without further conversation to the training grounds. Upon entering the doors Tigress felt a wave of exhaustion and disappointment; twenty years these grounds had soaked up her sweat and blood and every ounce of hope, and when the chance to become great had come –
-when the chance to make Shifu proud had come-
Tigress punched at the Swinging Clubs until the cruel little voice was drowned in adrenalin. With blood pumping and muscles working she felt like herself again, ready to take on any challenge that came her way, even – as Shifu and the panda came through the doors – a Dragon Warrior. She smashed a club that came at her and splintered it, chunks flying as she leapt off the spinning logs and cooled down on the side with the others. One of the chunks hit the panda square on the head; he opened his mouth in a silent gasp, patting his forehead gingerly. Shifu ignored him.
"Shall we begin, then?"
The panda looked at the opened obstacle course with apprehension. He dug through a pocket and held up a card.
Is now a good time?
"Yes, panda, now. Unless you believe that the great Oogway was wrong, and you are not the Dragon Warrior?"
Another card: It could go either way.
Crane tilted his head to Tigress.
"Does he have a card for everything, you think?" he whispered.
"Then we should test your abilities and see, shouldn't we," said Shifu, beginning to walk to the side. The panda followed him while scribbling on a blank card. He jogged in front of Shifu and held it up.
But I don't know any kung fu!
"Excellent," said Shifu darkly. He walked over to the Adversary and motioned to it.
"Then we can begin immediately. Punch it."
But the panda wasn't looking at the dummy: he was looking at the Five. His face lit up and he scrambled around his pockets, making odd, fast gestures with his paws and fingers. He pulled out a set of much newer-looking cards and held them up.
This is incredible!
It is such an honor to meet you!
I am a huge fan!
He started to hold up a card that said Can I have your autograph? but Shifu snatched the cards from his fingers, tossing them behind him. The panda retracted his paws, holding them against his chest, a very shocked, oddly fearful look on his face.
"Concentrate and punch the dummy, panda," Shifu said harshly. The bear looked at him and the thrown-away cards with hurt eyes, but obediently turned toward the Adversary. His twitched uncertainly, miming a small punch with a questioning look.
"Just hit it," said Shifu.
The panda gently tapped the Adversary on its painted face before withdrawing his hand, eyes darting from the Five to Shifu. The red panda's ears drew downward angrily.
"Why don't you try again," he said, his soft tone belying the annoyance Tigress could sense. "A little harder this time."
The panda smiled at him and punched the dummy hard enough to send it rocking back against the floor, but he had hit it in the face instead of in the middle; the dummy, weighted just for this, sprang back up and smashed into him, sending him flying backward into the pit. The serpent logs began to turn as he landed on them and Tigress started forward, intending to pull him out before he hurt himself. Shifu immediately blocked her and she felt a glimmer of concern; was he really willing to injure the panda to make him leave?
The Swinging Clubs of Instant Oblivion dropped down from the rafters and she and the others gasped; Shifu looked on in apparent unconcern. Apparently, he was willing to kill the panda to make him leave. Tigress tensed herself to interfere if it became necessary, but the panda made it off the serpent logs without getting impaled, the back of a club smashing into his torso and throwing him into the bowl of the Jade Tortoise. He bounced around as the Tortoise rolled with his weight, and Shifu followed his movements with his eyes, chuckling.
"This will be easier than I thought," he said to himself. They watched as the panda was rolled out of the bowl, clutching his stomach in nausea. He stumbled forward into the Gauntlet of Wooden Warriors, where he was smacked, slapped, and hit mercilessly; the leg of a warrior even jabbed him in the groin, which made even Shifu flinch. The panda fell to his knees but did not make a sound; he clutched at an arm for support and found himself being smacked again, until the forest of punishing limbs forced him out the other side. Clutching at his head and chest, he stumbled up the steps to the Field of Fiery Death, expression pained, but he fell back when a flame shot up in his face. The panda missed the steps and tumbled to the ground, and then scrambled backward on his paws and backside until he was pressed between the lower wall of the Field and the wall of the pit, where he crouched with his knees to his chest and paws pressed against his mouth, looking terrified to the point of tears.
Something inside Tigress froze at the sight of the panda covering his mouth with fear in his eyes, as if he was afraid of making a sound. Beside her, the others glanced around with solemn faces. The bear was not mute by birth, it was clear; something had happened to force him into silence, and by the panic in his face, fire had been a contributing factor.
Shifu was down in the pit before Tigress or anyone could do something, and he hauled the bear to his feet.
"Enough of this, panda," he said, pushing him toward the stairs. "The Dragon Warrior isn't afraid of a little thing like fire. Now go!"
"Master, perhaps he has demonstrated his…skills…enough?" chimed Viper, slithering to the edge of the pit. Shifu pointed his flute at the Field.
"A great warrior cannot be held back by something like fear," he growled, motioning again to the Field. "Complete the course, panda!"
The poor beast looked trapped, gesturing haltingly at Shifu but not pulling out further cards. Shifu stepped down off the stairs and jumped up onto the main floor, limping away without a backward glance at the confused and distressed bear.
"Then there is no more I can do. No warrior can be so easily disabled, especially the Dragon Warrior." Tigress noticed a slight smirk on his face as he crossed the floor to the door. "You Five should get to bed. We have another long day of training tomorrow."
The Five stared at his retreating figure, until a soft sigh turned their heads. The panda was staring confusedly at the Fiery Field, as if he didn't understand why he had been afraid of it. Monkey swung to the edge of the pit and stretched out his arm, but the bear waved him off, sitting down on the steps with a dark look on his face. Monkey turned to the others, and Tigress shook her head, walking away. If the panda wanted to stay and get out himself, he could. She motioned to Mantis with a nod to the bear. He grimaced, but hopped forward.
"Uh, if you want to practice some more, I can stay and make sure…"
…That you don't hurt yourself silently lingered in the air. The panda held a paw to his chest in thanks but gently tapped himself on the head and gestured to the stairs. Thanks, but I'm just going to sit and think, he clearly said.
"…Alright then…" said Mantis. Tigress led the others out the door, a final glance showing the panda with his head in his paws, heavy breaths shaking his shoulders.
It took Po a lot less time to get out of the pit than he thought it would; apparently there were several geese who operated the machinery of the spinning logs and the Fiery Field, and one of them silently slid back a small door in the wall and set down a stepladder. He waved a paw to thank the goose but she disappeared back into the wall. Po dropped his hand and stood; there was no reason to linger, and he just wanted to go to bed. His brush with the Field of Fiery Death had shaken him beyond his understanding; he'd never been afraid of fire before. He knew that there had been several fires started when Tai Lung had wrecked the village, but he didn't remember much of the attack, only that the day before he could talk and the day after found it impossible. The reaction he'd had to the sudden flame in his face unnerved him; he'd felt like something was going to get him if he didn't hide and stay quiet, never minding that he hadn't made a sound for twenty years. What was going to get him? Tai Lung? He felt a little uneasy at the thought of the snow leopard, but certainly not terrified.
As he walked along the staircase that led to the barracks, he thought about the events of the day. Was he really supposed to be the Dragon Warrior? Sure, he'd always dreamed of becoming a legendary kung fu master, but they had just been dreams; never had he thought that they might one day become reality. Judging by how horribly he had been beaten by the obstacle course, Po could safely guess that he had been right.
He shook himself and continued up the stairs, refusing to be too discouraged. Even if he had failed at the obstacle course, he still had met his heroes; Master Mantis had offered to spot him; Viper had even spoken up for him. A thrill of excitement coursed through him and he entered the barracks with a lighter heart, navigating the hallways until he found one that looked like it contained bedrooms.
He paused at the entrance, seeing the very edge of a light being blown out. He had no idea which room was his. Po decided to just take one of the ones in the middle and hope he didn't end up disturbing anyone, and then he stepped out into the hallway.
The floorboards immediately groaned under his weight. He stepped again, and they creaked again. Starting to despair, he set his foot down as gently as possible…
…and the floorboard broke. Po put the pieces back haphazardly and shuffled along the corridor, squeaks and creaks following his every footstep before he desperately backed into a random room, which, to his utter embarrassment, turned out to be occupied.
By Master Crane.
Po waved and tried to smile. Crane nodded back, looking very tired. Po held up his hands, attempting to apologize, but he realized that his apology cards were probably still in the arena where they had fallen. He fumbled for a blank card and his pencil, but Crane made a small noise.
"Oh! Yeah, um, these are yours."
He picked up a small pack of cards from the floor and handed them to the panda. They were his special Getting-to-Meet-the-Furious-Five cards that he had saved in his pocket for years, never having had the occasion to use them before. Po smiled and held up a few.
Big fan!
You were amazing at the Battle of Weeping River!
Crane smiled slightly, and Po tried to hold back his excitement. He was actually talking (more or less) to one of the Furious Five! He grabbed a blank card and started to scribble, wishing he had made his Furious Five pack more detailed, when Crane said:
"Um, look, you don't really belong here…"
Po clutched at his pencil and sighed, writing I know. He held up a card that said My whole life I've dreamed of learning kung fu! Crane shuffled a bit, awkwardly glancing around the room.
"No, uh, that's not…I mean, you don't belong here. I mean in this room."
He gestured with his wing to the paper walls and patted his mat with a foot.
"This is my room," he said. "Property of Crane."
Po almost smacked himself. He put one paw to his chest and bowed his head to apologize, which Crane thankfully understood. Backing out of the door, again, he waved in goodbye and heard Crane sigh quietly when he closed the door.
Seemed a little bit awkward, he thought to himself. He creaked along the corridor again, trying to keep as quiet as possible, when a door to his right opened, and Master Tigress stood silhouetted in moonlight. Po felt his heart flutter and hurriedly dug for his cards, but Master Tigress held out a paw.
"You don't belong here," she said quietly. Po nodded and pointed over his shoulder to Crane's room, then to hers, trying to say Yes, sorry, I know this is your room. Tigress waved him down.
"I mean, you don't belong at the Jade Palace." Po's heart fell. Tigress stepped forward a bit.
"You are not a warrior, and I doubt you will do more than disgrace us and yourself, so if you have any respect for who we are and what we do, you will be gone by morning."
She retreated back into her room and shut the door in Po's astonished face. A little bit of his heart felt like it was being cut away; his hero of heroes didn't think he should be there. Po pulled out his Furious Five cards with shaking paws and crouched, sliding one under the door before turning and leaving the corridor.
Big fan!
Po walked without destination, a warm night breeze rustling at his fur, simply wanting to get moving and get away.
The Five hated him. He may not have been the most observant person in the world, but even he could tell that Master Crane had wanted nothing more than for him to leave during their impromptu conversation.
The others, though they weren't openly hostile or insulting, still were incredibly put off by his presence. They were Masters of kung fu and therefore were obliged to act with honor and dignity, but Po knew they didn't like him being there, and he couldn't blame them. The title of Dragon Warrior was the most prestigious in China; the only reason it wasn't considered better than Emperor was because emperors tended to get shirty about that kind of thing. The Five had trained long and hard, only to get their hopes dashed by one idiot on a rocket-chair.
And Tigress….
Po, having walked absently up a long staircase, saw the mountain fall away into a long view of the Valley and its surrounding mountains, framed on one side by a peach tree in full blossom. The branches were heavily laden with fruit, and Po plucked an armful without thinking about it, sitting down on the edge of the rock.
…Tigress had been his favorite since the Furious Five had first been formed. Ever since he had seen her by the woods, fighting off a huge boar that threatened the village, he had been struck with admiration for her, not to even mention kung fu itself. To hear her, out of everybody, tell him that he should leave hit him harder than any machine in the Training Hall. Maybe he should. Perhaps it would be better for everybody...
"Ah, I see you have found the Sacred Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom!"
Po scrambled to his feet, dropping his armful of peaches as he quickly swallowed the one in his mouth. Grandmaster Oogway himself, creator of kung fu, was smiling at him from the stairs, a bright orange lantern held in one claw. Po smacked himself in the face and fumbled around for his apology cards, remembering with a heavy dread that he had lost them. He turned to Oogway to gesture an apology, but Oogway calmly waved him off.
"Do not despair, young panda. That peach tree has been there since long before you were born, and will continue for many more years. It does not need to keep every peach."
The panda looked guiltily at the small pile of fruit at his feet. I'm sorry, he gestured.
"I understand," said Oogway, reaching the top of the stairs. "You eat when you are upset."
Upset, me? Po gestured with a hot feeling of frustration, knowing full well that the tortoise wouldn't know his signs. I am not upset. Why would you think I'm upset?
Oogway blinked slowly at him.
"So, why are you upset?" He asked. Po stared at him; had he truly understood that? Or was he simply guessing? Oogway didn't look inclined to explain, and Po finally sighed and nodded in the direction of the Training Hall.
I messed up more than anybody in the history of kung fu - he spread his arms wide - In the history of China – he clawed his fingers into the air – in the history of messing up!
Po turned away from Oogway and sat by his pile of peaches, looking out onto the quiet Valley.
I'm not like the others, he signed. I'm too big, and I'm too heavy. I don't have claws, or wings, or venom; even Mantis has those..
…Po honestly didn't have a sign for Mantis's…whatever-they-were.
...Even Mantis has those…thingies. And even if I did, I'd still be too big, and too heavy…and too silent. Maybe I should just quit, and go back to making noodles.
Behind him, Oogway shuffled softly.
"Quit, don't quit…" Po turned around in surprise, his eyes wide.
"Noodles, don't noodles…" The old tortoise grinned at Po's amazement, and pointed at him with a claw.
"You are too concerned with what you think holds you back. Look at where you are now, young panda."
He pointed the crooked top of his staff to the stunning view of the Valley, a sight that few in the village below ever saw. A glimmer of understanding crept into Po's head.
"Do not worry about what was or what will be," said Oogway. "There's a saying: 'Yesterday is history; tomorrow is a mystery; but today is a gift. That is why'," he turned and began to walk back across the rock. "'It is called the present.'"
Oogway lightly tapped his staff against the trunk of the tree, and a peach fell directly into Po's lap. He watched the lamplight fade from the tortoise's back, rubbing the peach with his thumb, then pulled out the cards that Crane had returned to him, turning them over in his paw.
He had wanted to become a kung fu warrior since he fell in love with the art at seventeen, and he was in a time and a place where he finally had the opportunity. Nothing, he decided, as he bit into the sweet peach and headed back down the stairs, is going to hold me back from trying.
A/N: Apologies if things get a little confusing. To clarify, when a sentence talks like this, it indicates that Po is holding up a card that says that word or phrase, or gesturing. Sometimes I use italics to also convey thoughts, but in Po's case it's indicating what he's saying with his cards or gestures. It just gets a little repetitive to type 'he held up a card' every time he says something.
I like to think that Po's sign language is fairly straightforward and literal in the gestures, though they rely quite a bit on context. Slashing the hand across the chest could mean stop or to quit or to get rid of, depending on what comes before and after. This had nothing to do with how the hell Oogway knew what he was saying; Oogway is interpreting Po's language through sheer cosmic energy and communion with the universe. Oogway for the win.
I wanted Shifu snatching away Po's cards to be a big deal. The cards are the only way Po can communicate with people, because nobody else knows his sign language but Ping, and to take away his cards is basically denying him the right to communicate, and would feel rather violating to Po. Especially when it wasn't even Shifu he was using them to communicate with.
I do like Shifu, but I also think he's a bit of an asshole and I don't always agree with his actions. Making him be mean is oddly cathartic for me, and certainly not very out-of-character for him. I think that Po continuously pulling out cards in order to communicate would severely annoy him, and he's going to be rather meaner here than he was in the film.
The Five and especially Tigress don't have quite the dislike they originally had for him because he doesn't make nearly the fool of himself here as he does in the film. I mean honestly, he smack talked the training dummy. Who does that. Po is a very expressive person and he normally demonstrates this with his chatter and very loose manner of speech, but he can't do that here, and so much of his exuberance, over-enthusiasm, and silliness doesn't show, making him significantly less comedic and foolish-looking. He's still the same panda, but has been forced to be more reserved and to bottle much of his playful personality, and his silence forces him to listen more to other people, picking up on things that he ordinarily would have missed.
Remember that Po here was a little older when Shen attacked. He's not afraid of regular fire or things like torches, but a real blaze or sudden flames all up in his face would be a trigger for him, even if he has suppressed the memories. I don't want him to really remember Shen's attack or even Tai Lung's; he's unconsciously internalized his trauma to the point where both incidents are completely repressed – almost. Forgetting and repression are common occurrences in trauma or abuse cases, and a person can be completely oblivious to what happened up until something triggers them.
I've been reading about speechs disorders and apparently the 'kid won't talk after traumatic event' is much more common in media than in real life. Since this is a fanfiction about a kung fu-fighting panda, I'm not going to fight this. So let's say that when Po was itty bitty a part of his brain said that talking was unsafe and if he spoke something was going to get him. This came back after TL's attack, which reminded him of the first trauma (Shen's attack) and flicked that little switch again. It's an anxiety thing. He's probably not even sure why he doesn't talk, it's been so long. I'll get him talking again, but he's going to have but build up a lot of confidence and a feeling of safety before he chirps. If anybody knows more about muteness and mutism, I'm all ears.
The 'Master Flying Rhino using a rocket chair to earn his title' was a reference to Luna Goldsun's fanfiction Memoirs of a Master,which is an incredibly gripping tale of Shifu's life from childhood to past the first movie. 10/10 would read - and laugh, and cry, and sob, and wail - again.