The Steel Magnolia

*WHUMP*
“Owww...”

Nai Chun lay sprawled across the grass, his limbs stretched out around him. He squinted up through the sun's glare at the smirking face of his secondary commanding officer, Fa Mulan, who was shaking her head at his useless attempts to best her.

“Don't squint so much next time,” she with a soft laugh in her voice. He got up and rubbed his rear, mumbling something unintelligible about the 'damned sun'. Her laugh grew louder as he limped away.

It had so far been a month and a half since Mulan had arrived. In the beginning, soldiers such as Chun had been disrespectful, disbelieving, disdainful, and many other words beginning with the prefix 'dis-'. Some of them still found the gall to act as such, but the rest of them had gathered some sense of respect and faith, and were able to treat her like a commanding officer, not a silly woman. They had realized that she wasn't a renowned hero for no reason. This had been proved by many attempts to beat her at anything, anything at all—each and every one a failure. By besting her own soldiers, she had managed to win their admiration, just like she had with her comrades seven months ago. Of course, deja vu was not an uncommon feeling lately.

Recently, Mulan had found herself copying off of some of Shang's leadership techniques to get her men in line. When she would realize it, she shrugged it off, thinking that if it worked for him, it could work for her. It was the same thought that had run through her head when she struck his trademark authoritative pose that first day, a pose that she would soon adopt as her own. That, and the drills that ran long into the night as punishment for a smart remark or two. She could be considered a cruel officer, but whatever methods it took to whip one's men into shape, she had already used twice, and even invented some more.

Glancing at the sun's position in the sky, watching it try to hide beneath the horizon, she decided today's fun was over.

“Gentlemen, I want you here at sun's peak tomorrow,” she shouted to her scattered soldiers. She smirked as an idea she had been toying with came to her mind.
“Keep a close eye out for me, though. You may not recognize me tomorrow.”

Suppressing an evil laugh, she started back towards her tent to study Sun Tzu before bed.

The next day, the soldiers bounced anxiously in their place, contemplating Mulan's previous statement while they waited for her. You may not recognize me tomorrow. What was that supposed to mean? And, in addition to this strange behavior, she was late. Only the Gang of Three knew of her lack of punctuality, but they were still too puzzled to take this fact into account.

Finally, they saw her familiar figure ahead, but their confusion increased thousandfold when they did not see what they had expected to. What they did see was a girl of a completely different kind. She was small , like their Captain Fa, but was more lithe than skinny. She wore an extravagant dress of pink silk, a golden magnolia print decorating the fabric. She took long, graceful steps, almost giving the illusion of floating (unlike the aloof saunter of Captain Fa), a parasol bluer than the summer sky hiding her face.

As soon as she reached to gathering of men, she put on a modest, pretty smile. Lifting the parasol, she revealed a small, round face that was caked with white makeup. A black line dusted with purple powder shimmered on her eyelids, artificial pink sparkling on her cheeks. Her lips were painted the brightest of rouges and glistened with freshness. Her hair was blacker than midnight, help up by a pink ribbon decorated with a magnolia hairpiece. She was the picture of a China doll, causing nostalgia in the soldiers' hearts along with stirring their passions. Oh, but they would not be stirred for long, she thought.

“Today's lesson is no normal sparring match.” Her voice was light and musical, barely recognizable. She suppressed a giggle at the soldiers' expressions; dumbfounded, of course. It was their Captain Fa, after all, but a side to her that they were most definitely not used to seeing.
Hey, I like dressing up once in a while... she'd added indignantly in her head, almost insulted by the thought.

“If you think yourselves so tough and manly, we shall see how easily you will defeat a woman in her proper formal dress.” She set the blue parasol on the ground. Glancing at the faces of her inferiors which were still locked in shock, she smirked wisely.
“Don't make me raise my voice to prove who I am. Now, who would like to go first?”

A collective round of gulps could be heard, not one man stepping forth. Fine, she thought. I'll choose someone myself...Ahh, Feng doesn't look too comfortable. Let's choose him.
“Bao Feng, come here.” A medium-build man with an uneasy look upon his face reluctantly walked towards his dainty captain. She was in full fighting stance, her decorated eyes narrowing slightly as if she were a hawk eyeing prey.

“Try your hardest, Feng. Work to beat me. Remember who I really am.” She provoked him, red lips moving softly. Bao Feng's eyes narrowed, foolishly moving first. He attempted to throw a blow to her jaw, but her small pale hand caught his fist swiftly, her slipper-clad feet quickly and skillfully moving up to knock his arm away and deliver a hard kick to his gut. A loud 'oof!' was heard as he was knocked back on his rear, staring astoundedly at her tiny figure blocking out the sun.

“You might have to try harder next time.”

Warrior after warrior tried to best her, each of them failing horribly and being defeated without scathing her in the slightest. She laughed softly at each of the pathetic pupils she overpowered. It seemed they still hadn't improved much.
As she was gloating, though, Mulan sensed footsteps behind her, and she turned suddenly to be met with the face of the General.

“May I have a chance?” he said, bowing respectfully to Mulan. She was caught with her words; he would never be so willing to participate in this in a normal state of mind (maybe a dip in the rice wine was accountable). But, sadly, she had no option but to accept.
“Why of course, General.” She curtsied politely in return.

Locking eyes with each other, they began to move in a circle. Mulan noted how Shang moved like a tiger, his every step fluid as water. Though women were supposedly known to be graceful, she would seem an awkward klutz next to him. That was simply her personality, though; she had always been seen as clumsy.
It was easy for Mulan to predict when Shang would move. He jerked his slightly to the left, and his lips would purse for a split second before he would throw something at you. Very few had the lightning reflexes to match his moves, but luckily, she was blessed with such reflexes. Even still, Mulan had the barest second to react when she watched his head move left, and was almost unable to dodge the chop at her jaw.

Their soldiers watched as the two authorities sparred, each beating the opposite equally. Both mastered kick and blows, giving them as often as they were blocking them. Mulan attempted to knee Shang in the groin, but he had caught her, trying to twist her leg and knock her to the ground. He did not succeed, as she broke free from his iron grip and used her palm to knock his head back, missing his groin and grinding her leg into his thigh. He spun behind her, attempting to close his arms around the tiny girl and throw her to the grass once more, but to no avail. She spread her arms out, fists clenched, her arms shaking as she held his open palms in place. No matter how hard he forced against her, she would not break. Like the mountain and the wind, she remarked to herself.

His strenuous breaths tickled the back of her neck, warm air coming from him. His face was right behind her ear now, and she ignored her heart pounding against her chest. She could feel him smiling, his arrogant aura surrounding her.
She knew he was about to whisper something in her, able to tell just by the change of breath, but as soon as it began to leave his lips he was interrupted. The two of them always were, they would later know.

“General, uh... m'aam,” The young messenger cleared his throat at the sight of Mulan in quite formal attire. He hadn't realized her identity, yet had certainly realized their position. “I have important news for you.”