Homecoming

Shang was riding in the darkness, having been practically ordered to chase Mulan by his Emperor. Well, that was one order he was not going to complain about.

He had not had much time to sort out his feelings about the young woman. Too much had happened. She had saved his life (again) as well as all of China (again). Then Shang had done his best to save her neck from stupid bureaucrats, coming dangerously close to punching Chi Fu in the process (again). Thankfully, the Emperor himself was not a bureaucrat. He made the laws, and felt free to disregard them whenever it pleased him.

Mulan, now officially a war hero, had been honored as she deserved. She had hugged everyone, the Emperor, Yao, Ling, Chien Po, leaving Shang as the last remaining person to embrace, and he was just opening his arms as well when he caught her gaze and realized it.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't touch her, the very thought of her skin against his was too deviously tempting to allow. Something had changed in the middle of all the fight and confusion. Sometime in between nearly cutting Mulan's head off and stepping between her and the Emperor, he'd let his heart fall into her thin hands.

In the end, she left before Shang could put together a halfway coherent sentence, completely taken by surprise by his own feelings. He had never been a victim of timidity before. It was quite humiliating.

Now Mulan was on her way home, and he was following her. He could have caught up with her, but he still hadn't worked out what he was going to tell her, so he wasn't in any hurry.

Two days ago , when she was still the boy Ping, it was so much easier to talk to her. Although to be completely honest, there usually was more yelling than talking. But that was the issue, wasn't it? He'd hit her, pushed her, belittled her, and generally made her sweat until she collapsed from exhaustion. That was what any good instructor would have done, there was no reason to feel guilt about that, but that was hardly how you'd usually get to know the person you end up falling in love with. As far as Shang was aware, flowers were supposed to be involved. And jewelry. Possibly even poetry. You were supposed to show your best side in order for the other party to consider a lifetime with you. You were supposed to be polite, gentle, nice…

How was "nice" supposed to work out now? Mulan had pretty much seen the worst behavior Shang was capabale of. She'd known him harsh, merciless and dominating. How was he going to… compliment her eyes, or anything of that sort, without her falling into hysterical laughter?

He tried to dissociate Ping and Mulan in his mind, but it didn't work very well. He was in love with all of her. The cute girl and the young recruit. And anyway, he couldn't erase her memories of Captain Li Shang from hell, could he? To her, he would always be the man who beat down military discipline into her. The man who had nearly sentenced her to death.

Two days later, when Mulan finally reached her family home, Shang still had no idea what he was going to tell her. He wondered for a few minutes what frightened him more: fighting the Hun army or knocking on that particular door.

Shang woke up the next morning in the guest room the Fa family had given to him. It could have gone worse, he thought. Everyone seemed happy to have him for dinner, including Mulan. Fa Zhu and his wife were pleasant hosts, and the evening passed quickly. The only problem was… he still had no idea how to talk with Mulan.

She had taken back her place as a young woman of the house the best she could, serving tea and bowing low. Her military education had left visible traces, though. She talked and laughed louder than any other girl her age would dare. She was at ease talking around men, not hiding behind her fan. She kept walking on the hem of her dress, no longer used to the small steps that her female clothing required. A stranger looking at the scene might have speculated that she was a young boy masquerading as a woman…

This made Shang feel even more confused.

He looked outside. It wasn't dawn yet, but he no longer felt like sleeping. He decided that a bit of early exercise might help clear up his mind. He stepped outside, took off his shirt, and grabbed a bamboo stick that was lying around. He was halfway through his morning routine when he saw her watching him.

"Good morning," she said.

Shang glanced at his abandoned shirt and felt very much naked.

"Sorry," he said, hurrying to grab it. "I didn't think you'd get up this early."

"Don't worry," she answered with an amused smile. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Haha, yes, that's true I guess," he said, now completely drowning in embarrassment. He put his shirt back on, binding it as tightly as humanly possible.

"May I join you, captain?"

She wasn't wearing a dress, he realized. She had a tunic and pants on, and was holding her own bamboo stick.

"You don't have to do this anymore," he told her.

"No, but I want to," she retorted. "After all, it took me through the war. I don't see what it couldn't take me through peace."

He wondered if she had trouble sleeping, too. Was something on her mind? He had never been very good at reading Ping, and it wasn't any easier now that she was Mulan. He nodded, and she took position at his side. They finished the form together, with nothing more than the sound of their breaths in the silent night. Her moves were smooth and precise. She still had many years to go to become an expert, but she was no longer the clumsy beginner who had walked in his training camp several weeks ago. When they were both finished, he looked at her - sweating, but not exhausted. All that training had paid off. But she had endured much more than any woman normally would, in order to achieve this.

"You must be happy," he said, "to be finally back home. Those weeks far from your family must have taken their toll on you."

She glanced at him and hesitated.

"It was tough," she said, "but it wasn't so bad. I had a purpose then."

"Do you not have one now?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course," she said. "Like every young woman. I must get married. I must become a good wife."

She stepped forward and swiftly slashed her stick downwards. Her moves were full of restrained rage.

"I must be quiet. Graceful."

Another step, an upward slash.

"Delicate."

A thrust.

"Refined."

She jumped and finished with a backslash.

"Demure. Did I forget anything?"

He was a little surprised at how bitter she sounded.

"You have other qualities," Shang told her. "You have more courage than anyone. You are intelligent, strong, sincere…"

"None of that matters in a kitchen."

Shang wanted to tell her that getting married wasn't necessarily about cooking or looking pretty, but he didn't find the words to explain himself. He could not muster the courage to discuss the topic of marriage with her.

She looked up at him, and a smile replaced the melancholy on her face.

"Let's spar," she offered.

"What?"

"Like old times."

"I don't know if that's a good id…"

"Please… captain."

His mind said no, but for some reason, his mouth said yes. He took his stance, trying to remember how easy it was to spar with Ping, like with any other young trainee. How many punches and bruises had he already inflicted on her? What would a few more mean? But he knew she was a woman now, and two decades of education were screaming in his mind that this was wrong. You didn't punch the girl you were in love with. Or anyone of the other sex, for that matter. It was shameful, ugly, dishonorable.

She attacked first and he parried. He dodged a few hits, walking back, then her fist connected with his jaw. He hadn't even managed one attempt at hitting her.

"Holding back on me, captain?"

She was frowning.

"No," he said. "Of course not." But he had always been a poor liar, and Mulan looked even more disappointed.

"Yes, you are. Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Well…" Shang started, trying to think of an answer. He considered denying it, but he knew another pitiful lie would not appease her. The silence stretched uncomfortably while he failed once more at saying anything intelligent. Mulan sighed and ended his misery. She made a curt bow, her fist in her palm.

"My apologies. I forgot my place and made you uncomfortable."

Shang watched her walk back into the house, contemplating how much of an idiot he was.