You're walking funny.

What do you care?

Hey, did you hear me?

Loud and clear.

Don't disturb him, maybe he's just a little dazed out.

Yeah, Yao. For once, listen to somebody other than your own brain.

He's been like that since we came from the last village.

I'm actually dying.

It is a long ride to the next village. Maybe the front is just behind the mountains. Anyway, the captain knows all these. He'll know. But sometimes, you wish somebody will just ask the captain if he does know. He's looking all confused and it's really hard to remember that Baba told you not to cuss and all that crap. Especially if your captain's already more stressed out than you are and is ready to kill anybody, even if it's from his own army, just to bring out the ventilated frustration.

Cheer up. We'll get food later.

Food is all you ever think of, Chien-Po.

At least he's not thinking what I'm thinking.

I don't feel well.

*

Three days of sleeping on cold ground and not even bothering to take off the armors. Their muscles felt like banana mush and their legs like a twig placed in the middle of a raging storm. A few more days before they get to the front.

"A village!" somebody shouted.

All heads raised. General Li Shang signaled for everyone to stop and rode out to meet a person who had gone on ahead. They talked for a while, the man looking convincing while Shang looked perturbed. Finally, he sighed and looked resigned but pleased as he turned to them.

Oh, thank the gods!

"Men," Shang announced, "the villagers ahead have insisted for our temporary stay." He had not even finished talking when a loud cheer interrupted him. Shang looked annoyed and motioned for them to quiet down. "But be discreet. If the Huns manages to pass this way, we don't want this village harmed in return for their kindness."

"The Huns won't get further than the front General Li holds now," Yao commented to Chien-Po.

But Chien-Po only shook his small, round head. "You never know," he said in a hushed tone.

And for a moment, he, Yao and Ling fell silent. Their companion, a silent young man, Fa Ping, only looked up at the sky. "It'll rain soon," he said quietly.

Ling looked at him weirdly.

"Move!" came Shang's order. Immediately, the troops set out to the directions he led to. The three friends continued to walk. Each step was lighter; their armors did not seem anymore a burden.

As if oblivious, Ping bit his lips and stared as his friends walked away. His eyes were glazed as if with tears. "It was raining when I left home," he whispered to himself.

*

The town captain welcomed them gratefully and encouragingly. It seemed he had his share of the war, with his limping left leg and his scarred face. Indeed, when asked, he replied that, for the current war, his son had gone in his place and was currently up-front.

"He's one of the best," he boasted. "It comes in the family."

As this was their troop captain's specialty, he and the old man began to trade stories, one out of childhood and the other out of his own experiences. The old man invited them to stay in the local inn while Li Shang was to stay at his own house.

"You would expect it," Ling told Ping in a whisper. "Captains will be captains."

Ping only nodded in response.

Ling turned to him, puzzled. "You've been really quiet, Ping."

"He's always quiet," Yao complained.

"Not like this." Ling looked closer. "You're also pale."

"I'm fine," Ping told them, smiling. "It's nothing."

A woman led them to the inn where they were to stay. Ping got to share the room with ten-some soldiers. Ling was assigned to another bunk and, for once, Ping was grateful for it. He couldn't stand the other's probing stares much longer. Sometimes, Ling noticed little things.

That night, there was a feast, to thank the troops for protecting China. Ping took a swing at the wine and some food.

"You are pale," Ling told him, settling before him.

Ping slammed his wine on the floor. "Just tired. Going to the shrine to pray for a while. Want to come with me?"

Ling shook his head. "I say my prayers every morning when I wake," he explained. "It helps me get up."

"You are religious," Ping told him truthfully. He got up and pushed a stray hair from his eyes. His hands trembled but he ignored it. "See you later."

Ling frowned at him. "Maybe you should at least see a healer--"

Ping was already out of the inn.

He asked for the directions to the local shrine. A pretty girl serving them gave him the directions and he set out towards it. Once there, he picked an incense stick from the pot and lit it from the burning candle. The smell filled his lungs. It made him sick. Quickly, he blew to let out the small fire and laid it beside the other incense sticks laid for offering.

Make them believe me, just a little longer, he prayed. Please. Please...

There was a shuffling noise behind him. He turned to see one of the priests, dressed in his robes and his neck encased with simple beads, each engraved with Chinese moral characters.

"You are sick," the priest told him quietly. Outside, there was lightning and thunder, preparing for the rain.

Ping's eyes watered and he looked away. Disrespectful, Baba would say. Baba wasn't there. "Yes," he whispered. His head swam. There was incense everywhere. Getting into his head, his nose. He was becoming lightheaded.

"Daughter," the priest said, "tell your father."

One thought echoed in his head. Baba's not here. Baba's not here. Not here. He turned to the priest, dazed. Another thought: "How did--?"

"Daughter!" The cry was a sharp one and he saw, against the wavering light, the priest take a step forward.

Rain began to pour outside, splashing big drops on the ground. He could see them, each drops the size of his eye, splattering on everything.

Then blackness enclosed his world and he fell.

*

How did you know I'm a girl?

The thoughts were foremost in Ping's mind. His lips prepared to ask the question when he opened his eyes. There was a figure beside him. "How did--"

His vision cleared. It was his captain, Li Shang. His voice faltered. "--did I get here?" he finished.

Shang frowned. "I went to visit my troops and Ling told me you went to the shrine. When I was about to go, a priest arrived to tell me a member of my troops collapsed."

He closed his eyes. Shang did not know of her true gender. "I feel sick," he muttered.

"You are sick," Shang told him matter-of-factly. "Do you remember your name?"

Ridiculous question. Fa Mulan. "Fa Ping."

"A simple yes would have been answer enough."

"Yes." His fingers clenched.

The mat shifted and he heard the vibrations on the floor as Shang paced. Soft material against wood. "We'll have to leave you here in this shrine for a while," Shang went on, almost apologetically. "We can't have the whole troop affected by your illness."

"Yes."

"We are also supposed to leave tomorrow, first thing, so as not to have this village endangered just in case Khan-Yu gets this far in his invasion."

"Yes."

The pacing stopped. "You are of no help."

Ping's eyes flew open. "You are our captain," he told him. "You decide whether to leave me here, send me back home, or bring me with you despite this damned illness."

"I'm giving you the chance to decide, Ping," Shang replied.

Ping frowned. "Why?"

There was a pause. "Because your decision-making has been proven to be high in mark," Shang finally confessed.

A smile appeared on Ping's lips. He had never felt this power of decision before. Before, it had always been "follow Baba, he is a man" or "take care of Bee-Len, for he is your father's heir". Now, Ping was a man. He sat up. He thought best not lying down.

"If that is the case, then I propose I stay here."

Shang waited for his explanation.

"If I join the troop now, they might catch my illness. The spirit of this fever sometimes is high during the first few days. And the fatigue will only slow you and I will prove myself unimportant if I am not coherent. I do not wish to go back to my home, and the journey will only tire me. So I propose I am left here until I am capable while you continue on with your journey to the front. Meanwhile, when I am available, I will join you again. I have memorized the map and the camping points, so there is no more need to drill me there."

Another moment of silence.

Then, Shang sits beside him, smiling. "Your choice of decision bests mine once more. I was going to decide that all must stay here."

"I am not that important." Ping smiled.

At that point, Shang was about to stand from the floor but the smile caught him. He stared at Ping for a while, thoughtfully looking at his lips. "I don't suppose anybody ever told you this--"

"What?" Ping asked, alarmed at the way he stopped and looked pensive. "What's wrong?"

"Did anybody ever tell you that you sometimes look like a girl?"

The boy froze.

Another pause, then Shang gave a loud bark of laughter. "Great gods, I exceed myself sometimes. A woman tonight must be what I need."

"Yes," was the faint reply.

Shang blinked. He didn't know which comment Ping was answering.

Ping cleared his throat as if he understood. "Yes, a woman must be what you need."

Shang smiled again and shook his head. He walked out of the room, pushing the curtain of beads away, looking for the head-priest to make arrangements.

*

"Mu-lan. Mu-lan."

She opened one eye and closed it again when she saw two small shadowy figures beside her mat. "You," she mumbled. She buried herself deep into the blanket. "Leave me alone."

"What kind of a ward turns away from her own private Guardian?" the voice hissed against her ear.

She burrowed deeper. "I feel sick," she moaned.

A small scaly hand felt her forehead. The voice turned concerned. "You're burning up, girl," Mushu said, concerned.

Really? She felt awful. "Mushu..."

"You need anything?"

"I...I feel really sick."

Mushu, the little guardian dragon, looked stunned and his eyes widened. Then, he yelped out, "Quick, Kri-kee, get the bowl! The bowl!"

Grateful that Mushu could somehow understand her words, she quickly sat up just in time for Mushu to snatch the bowl Kri-kee held below her face. She closed her eyes and heaved, releasing all her lunch and some parts of dinner into the deep curve of the... She opened one eye. "Mushu." She mustered all her energy into that one name. "Where...come from?"

Mushu had the grace to look ashamed. "From the altar?"

Mulan gave a small whimper and put her hands in front of her eyes. There was a sour taste in her mouth, of bile and released food. She didn't like it. Her body felt prickly and everything was so damned hot!

A wet cloth was placed on her mouth and another small bowl was placed to her lips.

"Take the water in, child, then spit it on the bowl along with your waste."

The tone was comforting. Almost like Baba's. She quickly followed the instruction, thankful that Mushu and Kri-kee were still there, holding up the pile of stuff although they were making their distaste absolutely clear.

The wet clothing was wiped on her mouth once more and a cool hand was placed on her feverish forehead. "Lie down."

She did and got a brief look at the silhouette of her healer. It was the priest from the shrine, and he was looking down with raised eyebrows at Mushu and Kri-kee.

Apparently, this got Mushu agitated. He jumped on Mulan's stomach and snapped, "And what are you looking at, mister?"

The monk laughed. "It's not everyday one meets with another person's Guardian."

Mushu stopped. "You know I'm a Guardian?"

"What else might you be? A lizard?"

Mushu beamed. Mulan sighed.

The monk stood. "Rest, child. Your troop moves tonight."

Mulan wanted to ask him so many questions but he bent again and smoothed her hair. As if compelled, she fell asleep immediately.

*

She stopped mumbling when she realized that she was somewhere else. At first, she couldn't place it, until Mushu's quiet snoring brought back the memories and the familiar noises. Kri-kee was chirping near her, no doubt to keep up with the other crickets outside.

There was still someone by her side; she could feel it. She turned her head and opened her eyes. She wasn't in a tent. She was in a room. On a mat.

"Daughter."

She blinked, trying to focus.

"You are sick."

"I vomited," she replied, looking ashamed.

The monk smiled and touched her chin. "You are clean now, at least. That bile, when it rises your throat and you throw it away, you are cleaning your stomach of unwanted food."

"I feel bad," she moaned. She tried squirming beneath the blanket. "Hot! Bowl...altar..."

The monk understood. "Do not worry. It has been cleaned out and thrown away. It is replaceable, the bowl. But human life, is it?"

Mulan had no answer to that. So she kept silent.

"Sleep."

She closed her eyes again.

"Sleep."

She did.

*

The next time she woke, she was already a little comfortable. But instead of the monk sitting beside her, there was another person. Quickly on guard, she sat up, groping for her knife. There was none within the vicinity. "Who are you?" she demanded, surprised at the hoarseness of her voice.

The figure bowed, elbows and palms touching the floor, and the face touching the mat she was lying on. A sheen of silky hair spread over small shoulders reaching the floor. "Healer," a female voice whispered.

Hands stopped and Mulan froze. "Where is the monk?" she wanted to know.

"Sleep." The figure was still bowed. "He is exhausted in caring for you. It is my turn."

"I am alright," Mulan replied firmly.

The figure straightened. Her eyes were, although rather small, larger than usual. Pairs of black pools against the candlelight stared at him. The delicate head tipped. "Your fever has not stopped although it has gone down. Dao fears it might be another kind of sickness. Captain says to keep you in this sanctuary until you are well."

Mulan stared at her quietly.

The girl dipped her head again, but only for a second. "I am sorry. I have exceeded my words."

"It is alright." The fevered woman bit her lip for a moment before settling again. "Please, don't stare at me. It makes me feel weird."

"Pardon." The girl scrambled back about a meter away. Then, she laid on the floor.

Mulan stared at the ceiling. "Your name, Healer?" she asked in a whisper.

"Xialao Chai," was the quiet response. Mulan turned her head and saw that the girl was watching her curiously, still lying on the floor. "What of you, Warrior?"

Mulan debated, then said in a tired whisper, "Fa Ping."

"Ping."

"Ping."

"Such an ordinary name. You seem extraordinary."

Mulan looked back at the ceiling. She was Ping again. Tears pricked her eyes. "No. I am the most ordinary one can get."

"Only extraordinary Warriors get an illness not in season." Chai's voice was light. Ping's smile was forced.

Extraordinary. Ping wasn't extraordinary. He was small, a troublemaker. His father and mother never heard of him. He did not exist except for the troops. He did not exist for anyone except for himself. Or herself. Mulan.

"Pardon." Chai's voice was soft. "I had you talking even in your fevered state."

"I don't mind." Ping's voice was equally soft, also tired. "I never had anybody to talk to. Before." But as soon as the statement escaped his lips, he fell asleep once more.

*

Mushu wasn't in a good mood when Ping awoke. The little Guardian Dragon was sitting by his feet. Kri-kee was beside him, looking forlorn.

"That girl brought you food," the dragon said gruffly.

Ping turned and saw a tray full of greens and tofu and soup accompanied with chopsticks already broken.

"She doesn't serve the chopsticks well," Mushu added. "She broke them."

Ping neared them. "I wouldn't have had the strength to break them myself," he told the Guardian truthfully.

Mushu pointed a finger at him. "Don't you accuse me of not thinking of your welfare," he accused.

Ping smiled and practiced his hold on the unfamiliar sticks. "I didn't say that," he told his friend. He picked one tofu and popped it in his mouth. It was delicious. He took another before sipping the soup from the bowl.

Kri-kee hopped at his knees. Ping laughed and gave him one of the tofu. He struggled to eat it.

"If you're nice, Mushu," Ping said without turning to the dragon, "I'll give you half of mine."

"There is no need," a voice said from behind.

Ping gasped and whirled around. Spilled tofu soup splashed on Kri-kee's head. Mushu looked annoyed. Chai was so quiet they never heard the footsteps or the raising of the thick beads that served as an entrance. But then, they had been pulled at the side already before.

Chai was holding another tray, this time with a variety of food on it. She was smiling at Mushu. "Dao does not wish for a sacred Guardian-of-a-Warrior-at-War to starve or be jealous. Our ancestors will not forgive us if we do not feed you."

Mushu blushed and accepted the tray with a stammer of: "Xie-xie."

Ping glared at the tray. "Why--?" he began.

Chai beat him with an answer. "Only greens for you, Warrior. The Guardian is not ill. He can eat anything he wants and not be sick. You will."

Ping flushed and looked down at his tray. "Ping," he said quietly.

Chai looked puzzled. "Huh?"

"Ping. Please don't address me Warrior. I haven't seen battle yet. Call me Ping." He looked up to see Chai smile. Her face lit up when she smiled.

"Yes, Ping. I am honored to call your name. You may call me Chai as well."

"Yes. I am honored as well." Chai continued to smile at him; Ping flushed and returned his gaze to the tray before him. "Um..."

"Can you use your hands?"

"Aa...yes." Ping flushed again, mentally cursing himself. This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. A girl like Chai, affecting him this way? Ping was a woman as well! However, the way her gaze pierced one person, as if she can read their souls...even women blush over that, he rationalized.

He picked up the chopsticks and the bowl, staring down at the half-eaten tofu. He ate them one by one, letting the taste explode in his mouth. When he had finished, he picked up another bowl containing water and he drank thirstily. When he put it down, he saw that Chai was making a move to pour water into his bowl from a pot.

"No, thank you," he began but Chai laid a hand on his arm.

She looked firm. "Sick people need lots of water," she told him. "That is what Xuu'yu-tze told me to do and I will follow him."

Mushu's head shot up and he graced Chai with his Look.

Ping stared at her, blinking, surprised. Suddenly, as if realizing something, Chai pulled back her hand and blushed. "Forgive me," she said softly, lowering her eyes. "I did not mean to touch you."

"It's okay," Ping told her. "I don't mind. You have the right to touch me, of course."

"A woman does not touch a man--"

"I'm not a--" Ping stopped, then went on: "I'm not your ordinary man."

Chai smiled at him. "Ah, yes. I realize that. You really are extraordinary, Fa Ping."

You are, too, he wanted to say. But instead, he kept his eyes focused on Mushu, who was still glaring at him.

*

When Chai had gone, leaving him lying on the mat with the blanket up to his chin, Mushu scrambled up to his head.

"You were looking at her," he said accusingly.

Ping blinked. "And you were, too, Mushu," he replied carefully.

Mushu continued to glare. Kri-kee stepped beside him. By the look of his eyes, he, too, was disappointed.

"What?!" Ping cried out, then gave up into a bout of coughing.

As Mushu soothed her head, he went on, "You're a girl."

"As if I can forget that." Ping blushed.

"And she's a girl, too."

"What's your point, Mushu?"

Mushu threw up his hands and started to dance a little circle jig. "You were staring at her funny, as if you were trying to measure her! As if you and her had been promised by your parents for marriage! As if you were trying to think so hard about appeasing to the ancestors about--"

"Stop it, Mushu." It was sharp. It wasn't supposed to be.

Mushu shrugged. "Listen, Mulan, I'm here to keep you in the war and out of trouble."

Ping looked away. He was beginning to get tired and dizzy. "You do your job well."

Kri-kee chirped and Mushu stopped, listening to him. When the little insect finished, the Guardian nodded and turned to Ping. "He said you should forget about her and move on." Then, as if realizing what he had just said, he turned back to Kri-kee and began yelling: "You know what that sounds like, you little cricket?!"

Ping sighed and closed her eyes, trying to drown out Mushu's voice and Kri-kee's cheeping. It was easy, he had done it before. Before long, he was sleeping soundly.

*

Beautiful Warrior.

And he was different. She could feel it.

A presence before her. She turned and saw that it was her mentor and teacher, an old burly man with flowing white beard and balding head. She bowed respectfully. "Xuu'yu-tze."

Xuu'yu was staring through the bead-door, at Ping who had fallen asleep and the Guardian and cricket that had also slept by his feet. "Don't get too close, Xiao-Chai."

She looked up, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"He is not what you think he is."

"He is a Warrior and he is hurt," she replied, confused. "Isn't that what he is?"

Xuu'yu looked worried. "He brings with him a magical entity, a Guardian and a Cricket that follows his bid. His Ancestors may not be happy with him."

"My Ancestors may not be happy with me, too," Chai said sadly. "He and I are alike."

"You are different," Xuu'yuu told her sharply. "You are better off than he is. He is at war. You stay here and learn to be a Healer...that is an honorable thing, and you are given more than most women. Is not that enough?"

"Next moon," she said, as if not hearing his words, "I shall be sent to the village matchmaker." She stopped and turned to him. "Will I?"

"It is the tradition."

"You will never break it, will you?"

Xuu'yu looked pained. "It is the decision of your father, not mine."

She sighed and returned to watching Ping. "I wish you would tell him otherwise."

"It is not a wise idea, Xiao-Chai." He was silent again before saying in his usual tones: "What do you think of Fa Ping?"

"He is beautiful," she replied immediately.

He glanced at her. "Is he?"

"His facial features are fine as porcelain, and no hair has imbedded themselves over it. His eyes are large and innocent, as if it knows no hard lie. His fingers are callused yet delicate, his muscles underdeveloped."

"And these, you find beautiful?"

She bit her lip before answering again, softly, "He listened to me and treated me as an equal. He calls me by my name and does not call me woman. He says...he thinks of himself as lowly, and he is humble. But I sense that he is different. Extraordinary." A small smile played on her lips.

"Indeed, he seems extraordinary, does he?" Xuu'yu sounded amused. "But I repeat myself, daughter, when I tell you not to attach yourself too much to him."

"Why?"

"Because you will learn of uncertainties and other things you should not learn now." And with that, Xuu'yu bowed himself and retreated to the shadows of the hallway.

*

"You are hot."

"I am cold," he grounded.

There was another mumble against the darkness and he fought to open his eyes. He couldn't, but he could feel wet cloths being put on his forehead. "No!" he struggled to say. "No! It's cold! Cold..."

"Ssh."

Soothing hands over his arms, moving to remove his garments. With a cry, he sat up and slammed the hand away. Bowl of water and cloth went flying as he opened his eyes.

Chai was looking shocked. One of his hands was gripping her wrist. He released her immediately.

"Forgive me," he wheezed out. "Chai..."

"You are hotter," the girl told him quietly, standing gracefully to pick up the cloth and to wipe away the spilled water. "Your temperature has risen during sundown."

"I didn't mean..." Ping stopped as Chai left wordlessly. He sighed and looked around. Mushu and Kri-kee have disappeared. Where were they when he needed them?

A few minutes later, Chai was back with just a wet cloth. Silently, she took his arms and began to wipe them thoroughly with the cold cloth. Ping gritted his teeth and strived not to shiver.

"It is cold, I know," Chai told him, eyes trained on her task. "But you must endure it."

"I'm trying."

"You are brave." She looked up and smiled.

Ping felt his face redden and looked away. "No, I am not."

But Chai did not reply anymore. Instead, she produced another cloth and wiped him dry. When she was finished, she pushed Ping back to the mat and began to remove her upper garments.

"What are you doing?!" Ping cried out, alarmed. But he couldn't do anything more than that. His whole body was trembling with the cold.

"Do not worry," Chai whispered to him in return. A long strip of thin white cloth that showed most her skin covered her body. But it was dark and Ping could not imagine that much. "It is only to keep you warm and let you sweat. I do not do this much, but I am worried about you."

She laid beside her and pulled the blanket around them closer. "Now," she said in a whisper, "I know how you feel. It is cold. But," she continued, "you are warm."

"Th--thank you." Ping didn't really know what to say.

They fell silent, ragged breathing heard in the small room.

"May I...put my arms around you?" Chai asked in a small voice. Then, as if Ping would be offended, she rushed on, "To keep you warmer. Even though your clothing is many, you may still feel my body heat through them and--"

"Yes," Ping replied.

Chai did and laid her head on the crook of his neck. Her arms around his waist tightened. Her long black hair was spread over the mat behind her, some of them falling with Ping's long hair. The shadows of their figures hit the wall against the moonlight. Outside, Ping could hear crickets. He wondered if Kri-kee was there. He wondered if Mushu was outside, and what their reactions would be if they found out.

He didn't want to think about it. His head hurts.

Instead, he closed his eyes and let his arms fall around Chai. She was comfortable, and had a wonderful scent.

Lilac scent.

It made him think of home.

It made him dream of home.

*

Soon, even breathing can be heard throughout the room. One of Ping, the other of Chai.

*

Mushu sat by the window and sighed.

It was going to be another long night.

*

He dreamed of home, not of his parents but of his siblings. He dreamed he was not Mulan, but Ping. He dreamed of Achi-Chin and his younger brother Bee-Len. He dreamed that Achi was happy he was alive, and not reprimanding him of running away. He dreamed that he was Bee-Len's hero.

But he knew, at the back of his mind, the one that knew it wasn't a dream, that it was all untrue. Bee-Len would probably be mad at him for taking his place. And Achi would reprimand him for not acting like a woman that everyone expected he would be, as Mulan.

*

Am I a woman?

Am I...a girl?

Or am I a man?

I hold this girl in my arms and feel no lust. I hold her, yet I feel something. Something indescribable. Something like...

What do you want?

*

I wish to protect Baba. I wish to protect my family.

*

Now, I wish to protect this girl as well.

*

Chai...

*

Ping awoke with Chai's name on his lips. He found Chai looking up at him, her black eyes against white rising through the darkness.

"Chai..."

"Ping..." A sigh.

Ping could feel his heartbeat triple its speed. Chai's look was intense.

"Chai...I..."

But before he could finish, Chai had leaned forward, her lips forming the words: "I think I love you." And she let her lips touch his. And Ping closed his eyes before the tears could escape.

*

"Your fever has broken."

Silence.

"It was gone during the night."

Silence.

"I'm sorry I did that."

Silence.

"I didn�t mean what I said."

"Did you?"

"Ping..."

Ping sat up so suddenly that Chai rolled off him in surprise. "Don't call me that," he whispered harshly. His hands were on his head, as if enduring a terrible headache. "That's not my name."

"Tell me."

"I will be killed."

Chai's voice was trembling but persistent. "Tell me, Ping, please. You are different."

"You can't love me."

"Why not?"

"You can't, Chai. Please, leave it alone. Leave me alone. Please, Chai, please." He sounded as if he was sobbing. Silver tears fell from his eyelids and into his cheeks, one at a time. "No woman can love me. No woman..."

Chai sat up and crossed her legs. Her hair shimmered beautifully in the moonlight, Ping couldn't help noticing. "Why not, Ping?"

"Because my name is not Fa Ping," Ping whispered, staring at his lap. "Because my name is Fa Mulan. Because I'm not a man." Slowly, piece by piece, Mulan removed her clothing, and exposed her chest.

*

Chai gave a small whimper before bowing and collecting her clothing. She put it all, one by one, before leaving the room quietly as she had entered.

*

Mulan threw her small body into the mat and began to sob again.

*

He was beautiful. Beautiful Warrior.

Silent footsteps behind her. She whirled around from the fire and saw Xuu'yu behind her. She turned back to the fire. "I didn't listen to you," she told him. "I have been stupid, not listening to you."

He sat beside her, legs folded beneath him.

"Stupid student, never listening--"

"Stop berating yourself."

"I laid with him," she whispered, mostly to herself. "I laid with her and I wanted it, even to the end. And, dear gods, even after she confessed that she was a woman!" She bowed her head, her long straight hair falling over her shoulders, her back.

"Because you embraced her with your warmth," Xuu'yu said carefully, "her fever has broken."

"But don't you see?" she cried out. "Even in these three days, I have loved her! I loved her for just a short period of time. Is it wrong for one to love another of her gender? Not to lust, but to want to protect?"

Xuu'yu was quiet. "You decide which is right for you now, Xiao-Chai. You choose."

And they sat there, side by side, quietly staring at the flickering flames before them.

*

Chai did not return to visit her the next day for breakfast. Nor the whole day. A new Healer was assigned to her. Her fever had broken, and she was alright. Indeed, she could do push-ups although when a monk saw her, he stopped her, saying it would strain her body.

By nighttime, Chai had still not appeared. Mushu and Kri-kee also disappeared.

Mulan looked out the window. "A fine Guardian he turns out to be," she muttered to herself, quietly fingering her black hair. "He disappears when I really need his advice."

Outside, the crickets and cicadas were chirping again. She wondered if Kri-kee was among them. She wondered if Mushu was with Kri-kee.

She let her thoughts be trained on the two. She didn't think about Chai. It still hurt.

*

Her night meal was brought in a tray by one of the monks. He was old and he looked kindly, and Mulan recognized him as the monk who had called her "daughter".

"Where's Chai?" she asked as she sat on the floor.

"We have assigned her to a new role for the time being," the monk replied, pushing the tray towards her.

Mulan took the chopsticks and broke it apart. It was wooden. Smooth. She marveled at her newly-regained strength. "Is she...angry?"

"At you? Far from it."

"You are Xuu'yu, her Master, aren't you?"

The monk looked pleased at her memory. "Yes. Yes, I am. She mentioned me?"

"Only once. How did you know I'm a girl, by the way?" Mulan didn't look up at him. It seemed rude, but she was uncomfortable when discussing the subject. As if she had no right to bring up Mulan.

"My Ancestors told me in a dream about the visit of a strong-willed Girl that they could not make of. Some did not approve of what you did, but they agree that it is a person of tremendous responsibility who can pull this off. And, naturally, you are actually raising your own family's status."

Mulan carefully picked on one of the greens on her bowl. "The whole country will be mad if I told them who I am," she murmured.

"Will your father be mad at you for thinking of his welfare? Will he be angry with you for loving him enough to dress yourself up as a man and going in his place?"

"I wouldn't have, if my brother wasn't too young." Mulan looked up finally and saw his eyes. They weren't filled with reprimand, only understanding. "Bee-Len, he couldn't go here now. And my Achi, she wouldn't have approved."

There was silence. Mulan's statement echoed and disappeared in the room that she wondered if she had ever spoken it at all.

Then, Xuu'yuu continued, "You will leave tomorrow, am I correct?"

Mulan smiled. Her statements to the other servant proved to be useful. "That is my wish. I want to follow the troops now. I have lost three days. I don't wish to lose any more. I need to get to the front the same time they do."

Ling, Yao, Chien-Po.

Shang.

Shang...

"You do not wish to rest?"

"No." She shook her head. "Thank you, but I only need to get there with them. There is a war."

"I understand, daughter. Or shall I call you 'son'?"

Mulan stared at him. He was smiling, as if amused. "I..."

"Rest now," he interrupted. "Tomorrow, you will get up early so you can catch up with the other soldiers. And I shall dispatch one guide to be with you."

Mulan drew back and let her forehead touch the floor in a bowing gesture. "Xie-xie," she said softly.

Xuu'yu took the tray and, with a slight nod, lifted the noisy beads and left the room.

*

She left to find Khan, her beautiful black horse, already packed with supplies. A little cart placed at the back of the saddle was also strapped on, indicating it was a special seat for Mushu and Kri-kee. Mushu, who had arrived that morning, was surprised and pleased at this treatment. He and Kri-kee immediately hopped on to try out their new beds.

"Thank you for your care," Mulan told Xuu'yu. He was the only one, beside one servant and another monk she didn't know, who was seeing her off.

He took her hand and pressed some prayer beads to her fingers. "Keep this and remember your Ancestors."

She bowed gratefully before throwing herself up to the saddle.

"Wait!" Xuu'yu exclaimed before she ran off. "I said I'll dispatch one guide for you until you reach your troop. With this guide, you will arrive at the designated point in about just a day or two."

"There is no need," she began when a snort of another horse stopped her. She looked up and gasped softly.

Chai sat proudly on the saddle of an equally beautiful chestnut horse. "I, Xialao Chai, shall accompany you, Warrior."

Mulan's mouth dropped open. Xuu'yu hid a smile.

Chai was dressed in scholars' clothes, her hair piled on her back to indicate her status as a student under monks' care. Her clothes, although for men, had a flair that showed she was still a woman.

"People are gonna get a kick with her leading you on the trail," Mushu whispered to Mulan. Then, he reached out from behind her neck to shut her jaw. "Shut your mouth, will you girl? It's sickening." He smirked.

"Is there anything wrong, Da-Ping?" Chai asked her.

Mulan shook her head and looked behind her to check the basket's fastenings. She was blushing. "No, no. Of course not, Chai." She straightened. She was not Mulan anymore. He pulled at Khan's reigns. He neighed. "Let's go."

They waved goodbye at Xuu'yu before setting off.

*

They rode for most of the day, never talking to each other unless to give each other directions. They stopped for some time, to give their horses time to rest or to feed them. Mushu complained a lot and Kri-kee hopped out of the basket to the back of the saddle for some time, but other than that, no other words were uttered.

Finally, not taking it anymore, Mushu jumped on Ping's head. "Can you two speak already?!" he shouted. "I can't stand hearing my voice anymore!"

Ping smiled and even Chai laughed at that.

"Look, I know what happened to the both of you," the little dragon went on, "so don't try to hide it from me. I saw you two last night."

Chai blushed and Ping looked down at Khan.

"I didn't know you were a girl," Chai finally said softly. Her gaze was locked forward and she would not turn to Ping. "I thought--"

"That was mainly the reason, you know," Ping interrupted. He, too, would not look at Chai. "I'm actually a little flattered, you thought I'm a man."

"Mu-lan."

Ping looked up, not expecting tears to fill his eyes. Chai frowned, fingers gripping the reins. "What's wrong?"

"Nobody has called me Mulan other than Mushu," she mumbled audibly. "Not for a long time anyway."

"Mu-lan. Mulan. It is a nice name. Extraordinary. I knew it, your name could not be Ping." Her voice was kind. "Mulan suits you. It fits the name of a Warrior and a Woman."

At this, Mulan smiled.

"May I call you Mulan, Ping?"

"Of course. May I still call you Chai?"

"You don't have to ask, Mulan. You may call me Chai, of course." Chai smiled and Mulan noticed, as usual, that she was radiant.

Awareness. Suddenly, she knew. At every confession, one becomes aware of things, of every little movement. Paranoia? No...it was something else. Something acutely close and sometimes uncomfortable. She was aware of Chai now, of the way she sat on the back of the horse; the way the wind carried some strands of her hair; the way her hands caressed the mane of the horse as she gripped the reins.

And to at least get rid of that awareness, Mulan began to talk, or babble if she must. About home, about her friends, about her travels, about Mushu and Kri-kee...and Chai listened and asked questions and related some stories of her own.

*

Love.

It was different, actually. She wanted to protect Chai. Before, she was only going to fight the Huns in the name of her father. So Baba would not die. So Bee-Len would not feel angry that he was too young. Because she loves her family.

But now, there was Chai. Chai, who said she loved her. Who didn't seem to be taking that love back.

*

"I want to protect you," Mulan told her suddenly.

Chai was silent as she turned to her, letting her continue. Mulan was staring ahead, frowning a bit. Her eyes were a bit glazed.

"I want to protect you from the Huns. And all the different things that will hurt you in the future." She murmured softly to Khan to avoid a stone on the path before turning to Chai. "Tell me, do you think that is love?"

Chai's eyes clouded over for a bit and she turned again to the path before her. "Is love wanting to protect someone? Yes, that's a kind of love, isn't it?"

They fell silent. Mushu stirred silently at Mulan's back, as if listening but trying not to.

"I asked Xuu'yu-tze if loving one of the same gender right."

"It isn't, is it?" Mulan remarked, remembering the eunuchs serving the emperor. "It is against one's rules of morality to love another person of the same gender...love with lust."

"He told me I should know," Chai told her, frowning slightly. "I should decide."

"What do you decide?"

The answer was anticipated.

"That no love is wrong," the girl told her wisely. "That any love, even between two men or two women, is right because it is love. Isn't it? You wish to protect me, as you wish to protect your family, your father most of all. And you wish to protect your country. But I wish to protect only you...from the war and from the other hurts that will befall you on this journey. That love I feel for you is different from the love I feel for Xuu'yu-tze or for my own family."

Mulan bit her lower lips and looked away. Mushu stirred again, settling himself comfortably against Mulan's back.

"I laid with you," Chai went on, a blush rising prettily over her cheeks. "I don't suppose you can recall--"

"No, I remember," Mulan cut in. There, too, was a flush on her face...or maybe it was just from the sun? "I told you I am a girl. I'm sorry."

"How can you be sorry for the truth? I should be the one to apologize for taking advantage of you in your fevered state...although, Xuu'yu-tze pointed out that it is that certain action that caused your fever to break." She looked thoughtful again, although a small smile played on her lips. "Or maybe..."

"What?"

"...your fever was part of everything. Your temperature rose, and to melt that part of me that should never have learned, you came near and shared your warmth with me. I haven't experienced the warmth of another person for a long, long time."

"I'm glad my body has helped you," Mulan said. Then, to her surprise, Chai reared her horse closer to hers and grabbed her right hand with her left one.

Chai's fingers grasped her palm. "Never doubt that it is not just your body that helped," she said. "It was your soul that made me realize that, too. Thank you."

They rode quietly for a while, hand-in-hand, their horses next to each other. Then, Mushu jumped over Mulan's head.

"I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation but a village is approaching and you'd better get ready."

*

To the little Guardian's amusement, they did. Chai wrapped a cloak around her scholars' suit and pulled a hood over her head to cover her eyes. Mulan quickly straightened and concealed the cart containing Mushu and Kri-kee inside and arranged her supplies and armor.

A villager inn provided them with a room. Some inquiries revealed that, yes, General Li Shang's troop had been there two days earlier for restock of supplies. A day's worth of travel and they will catch up. It seemed that traveling in great numbers proved to be slower than traveling with few.

That night, Mulan and Chai ate in their shared room before the warrior excused herself to pray in the shrine.

She took a long walk, trying to lose herself within some trees before finally finding the shrine and lighting some incense sticks for her Ancestors and for her family. She prayed for their welfare and took care to mention each.

When she was ready to return, she took her time again. She wasn't ready to face Chai inside the same room.

But when she arrived, she saw that two mats were already laid on the floor. Chai was sleeping on one and the other was spread some good distance away. At the foot of the mat laid Kri-kee and Mushu.

Quietly, Mulan entered. "Chai," she whispered, words reverberating against the darkness. "Chai."

Mushu opened one eye. "No good, girl," he told her. "She fell asleep long before you came in."

Hating herself for feeling thankful, Mulan crawled inside her blankets and squeezed her eyes shut. But it was a long time before sleep overtook her.

*

By mid-afternoon, they had seen trails and were finally detecting smoke from the distance. Standing by a cliff of a hill, they finally made out a small camp in the distance.

"There they are!" Mulan told Chai excitedly. "They're there, right where the map said they'll be!"

"I am glad." But her voice lacked that emotion. It didn't matter. Mulan was too busy to notice.

They let their horses and their aching backs rest by some underbrush. Mulan took a gorge and let Chai's chestnut stallion and Khan drink. Kri-kee and Mushu were asleep by the cart, laid on the ground by Mulan.

"When you arrive," Chai said, "will you return to being Ping?" She was sitting by some boulders, staring at the curve of Mulan's back.

Mulan frowned at her hand, sprinkles of water dripping from her fingers. "I will have to. They don't allow women in the armies." She turned to Chai, smiling broadly. "But inside, I still have Mulan."

"Yet, this is goodbye for us," Chai interrupted. She stood and dusted her clothes. "I must return now."

"So soon?" Mulan's frown formed again, deeper than before. "Won't you wait before I arrive in the camping ground?"

"I wish to say goodbye to Mulan," Chai said patiently, "not with Ping." She neared her and touched her arm. "Mulan is the one I love more, not Ping."

Her heartbeat was beginning to double its speed once more. "What do you mean? Mulan is inside Ping."

"No. You are Mulan now, and Ping is inside you. I wish to say goodbye to you." Chai took advantage of her stunned expression. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on Mulan's lips. "Farewell, Fa Mulan."

"Wait!" Mulan exclaimed, obviously distressed. "You can't just leave me here."

But the girl ignored her, patting Mushu and Kri-kee's heads before hauling herself up her chestnut stallion and letting him raise his front hooves. "Goodbye, Beautiful Warrior. The gods are kind if they will let us see each other again, but I doubt it."

"Wait!" Mulan's arm was outstretched and she took one step forward. "Chai, wait!"

But Chai only smiled sadly. "If I wait for you," she told her, "I will never leave your side. Beautiful...you were always so beautiful, Warrior. Fa Mulan. Goodbye, you will forever be in my heart."

As she said the words, a cloud of dust was beginning to form. The stallion gave one last neigh before disappearing into the thicket of trees. Mulan bit her lower lip, furiously blinking. Her hands gripped Khan's reins tightly, never seeming to let go.

*

She said goodbye. I wasn't ready to let go.

*

"Ping?" Shang straightened, not believing the sight that greeted him at the edge of camp. "Is that you?"

The snort of the black stallion was proof enough. Two figures walked to part from the trees, already seemingly golden brown because of the setting sun. Ping was leading Khan, holding on the reigns so tightly that his knuckles were white. Shang took no notice of these; instead, he ran forward and let his hands rest on the boy's shoulders.

"We were worried about you," he told him truthfully. "How is your sickness?"

"It has disappeared, thank the gods," Ping told him quietly.

"I--" Shang stopped and blinked, frowning slightly. "Have you been crying?"

Ping seemed puzzled at his observation. "Your eyes deceive you, Captain. These are dirt marks on my face." His free hand absently rubbed his cheek.

Shang blinked again and he shook his head. "No matter." He turned to the camp. "Fa Ping has returned!" he shouted.

Heads poked out of the tents and three figures came crashing forward. Ling, Chien-Po and Yao. They quickly grabbed to squeeze Ping's palm for good luck.

"Good to have you back, Ping," Yao told him, grinning a bit. His squint seemed homely.

Ping smiled.

They stayed that way for some moments, Ping surrounded by people welcoming him until Shang gave his back a final pat and ordering him to bring his horse to the camp supply sections.

*

"What did you do there?" Yao asked.

"Slept," was Ping's reply. He was grooming Khan and stocking his own supplies.

"How was the food?" Chien-Po wanted to know.

Ping's nose crinkled a bit. "No taste at most points, but tasty at one point."

"Met anyone interesting?" Ling asked finally.

The younger boy's right eyebrow twitched. "Monks. Priests." He seemed sad. "And a girl."

Ling perked up. "Hey, maybe someone worth protecting?" he teased, following up on their last conversation concerning women of their hometowns.

Ping only shrugged and smiled. It was a sorrowful smile. "Worth protecting...and much, much more." He stopped, looked up, and his voice was still strained. She said goodbye. I wasn't ready. "She was...extraordinary."

And no amount of words could coerce him to reveal any more.