.

.

It's a good night for a walk. Mulan wanders out of her tent, humming to herself.

She makes it down the hill, tripping in the grass and overhearing a heated argument erupting from Chi-Fu's tent. The man is a slimy, slippery insect crawling in the dirt, Mulan thinks in secret. Hard-hearted. Conniving. With not a spine to be seen.

Captain Li Shang hurls himself out of the tent, frowning so severely. He passes Mulan without a single acknowledgement.

"Hey, I'll hold him… and you punch!" Mulan blurts out, grinning widely and making a fist in the air, lightly tapping it to her open palm. At the following stretch of silence, she cringes in humiliation. "Or not," Mulan whispers, eyeing him. Getting the intuitive feeling that Shang is listening to her anyway, Mulan tries again. "For what it's worth… I think you're a great Captain!"

That's when Shang hesitates mid-step, peering over his shoulder. His frown lessens.

"It's not worth much to Chi-Fu," he mutters bitterly.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Mulan insists, trying to keep her voice deep and low as Ping. She walks over to Shang who turns around to face her. "Chi-Fu isn't a military soldier like you. He's not trained in combat and strategy and he wouldn't know what to do with an arrow if his life depended on it—which it might when we do see battle." Mulan gazes up to her commanding officer in plain admiration. Her grin softens. "He's not courageous or intelligent or handsome—"

"—Handsome?" Shang cuts her off, blinking in amusement.

Mulan tilts her head. "Hmm?" she replies, sounding distracted. Faraway.

At this, he wrinkles his nose and snorts out a laugh. It's the most beautiful noise Mulan has ever heard in her life. "You're not quite what I expected, Ping," Shang admits, looking over her and moving further into her space. She mimics him without thinking.

"Is that good or bad?" Mulan asks, her eyes roaming Shang's face.

"I'm trying to work that out myself…"

It feels like pure, unbridled magnetism. Destiny. Maybe she was meant to be here. In this war, in this encampment, in front of this man who makes Mulan feel both small and unbelievably gigantic and important in the same moment. She's as helpless to this sense of inevitability as Shang looks, dumbfounded and driven back to silence, when Mulan's lips press briefly to his.

She lowers from her tiptoes, inhaling so sharply that her heart leaps.

"Your skin…" Shang murmurs, dragging his fingertips against Mulan's jaw. His brows furrow. "Why do you… feel soft…"

His thumb strokes up. Mulan lets out a ragged, high-pitched protest, backing away.

No.

No, no.

He looks half-asleep to her. Not himself.

Mulan vanishes into the night, lurching and ignoring the noises of her heart pounding within her skull.

.

.

It feels more like a waking.

Shang doesn't bother with rest, pacing inside his tent until dawnlight leaks through the flaps. He can hear songbirds fluttering in the trees above. Ping… Ping is on his mind once more. He never seems to leave Shang well enough alone.

A foolish man. Different.

Ping has shown himself more than capable of growing and adapting during training. He is quick-witted, opinionated and fierce. He smiles too widely. Too lovely and precious in nature for any man. Shang rubs his mouth harshly with a leather-gloved hand, circling around. There's no mistaking what happened. And, well, Ping… yes, Ping looked terrified by his own decisions.

He didn't think of going after Ping when the other man took off. Shang knew Ping needed time alone.

Behavior like this might be considered insubordination. A flagrant display of misconduct. But, gods, did he need to act? It wouldn't only be Ping receiving disciplinary action. Shang enjoyed the kiss. He basked in the warmth and delightful odor of Ping.

From very moment he noticed a self-satisfied Ping high up, the medallions dangling from his hands, Shang understood.

He understood Ping was no ordinary man.

.

.

Mulan wakes from fainting, coughing and succumbing to the agony throbbing her side.

The valley. Snow tumbling into a massive avalanche, wiping out Shan Yu and the Hun army out of existence. Blood. Her own blood crusting to Mulan's fingers. She peers up woozily to the medical officer trying to remove her armor.

It's not a long argument. Mulan, panicked beyond comprehension and quivering, orders him out.

The medical officer threatens gruffly to report her, but listens. There's no use making things worse. She tends to her wound, cleaning it and stiffly binding her abdomen and upper chest. Mulan drapes a blanket around herself when Shang enters.

She attempts to rise to her feet, wincing. A pained hiss echoes through Mulan's teeth.

"Hold on, hold on…" Shang advises her, gripping onto Mulan's hand and her shoulder. "Don't do that. I need you lie back down."

"I'm sorry, Shang…"

"For what? Winning the war?" he says. The light fades out of Shang's eyes. "Or for breaking the law?"

Mulan's expression falls. She gulps.

"How…"

"Jun examined you before you threw him out. He confirmed my suspicions." Shang glares, sitting down with her on the tent's floor and releasing Mulan's hand. "Who are you really, Ping?" he demands, nearly sneering. "And do not think of lying to me again."

She wouldn't dream of it.

"Mulan… Fa Mulan."

"Fa Mulan," Shang repeats. Hearing him acknowledge the truth, with such disdain, worsens the pain thrumming Mulan's heart. Her injuries be damned. "You saved my life… you saved all of our lives… so I cannot end yours."

"I didn't want you to know like this, Shang…"

"Captain Li Shang," he reprimands her, glaring harder. "You're still only a recruit."

Tears sting Mulan's eyes. She bows her head in obedience.

"And still… I fell in love with you." Mulan jerks her head up. She gapes. "When you were a man. When you were Ping. I didn't understand it until much later. A part of me knew you weren't any man I ever encountered." The tension holding Shang together loosens. He thumbs off a line of moisture on Mulan's cheek. "Still… you betrayed my trust… and I… I want to forgive you…"

A flush grips over her.

Shang leans in. Close enough where she can feel gusts of hot air between his lips.

"You didn't allow me to kiss you back… when we were alone…" He murmurs earnestly, "May I kiss you?"

Mulan can only stare in utter fascination. This isn't what she was anticipating upon being discovered. An execution, yes. But never a return of Shang's affections. She nods ever so slightly, watching him lean again and meeting him halfway.

His lips shift against hers. Mulan opens her mouth a little, easing the pressure.

There's a rasp in Shang's panting. He grasps the sides of her face, kissing her harder, kissing her until Mulan goes breathless. She lies down on the medical tent's blankets, feeling Shang half-maneuver over her. His own cheeks reddened.

He's awkward, but treats her carefully and with so much emotion hidden away all this time.

Mulan squirms, very much aware of Shang's eyes on her and drifting down. She's aware of the rise and fall of her bandaged breasts. Knowing he can see her finally. Shang's open hand cradles protectively against Mulan's uninjured side. He dips his face, pressing his lips gently to the center of Mulan's throat. Another kiss, gentler and fainter, lands to the space of her heart.

"You're a good man, Mulan—hhm—" Shang closes his eyes, flushing prettily and smiling. "—woman. You're a good woman."

"I don't mind either way," she says hoarsely, grinning and overhearing Shang's response as a laugh.

"Of course."

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