Fa Mulan

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be eating in here,” Mulan said, casting a glance over her shoulder at Mushu. She held her notebook in her hand, maneuvered clumsily around the cluster of people gathered at a statue of a woman with bird’s wings. The Disney City Museum was always full of people, and the Egyptian exhibit was no different. 

She carefully pushed through and scribbled down the information from the plaque in her notebook. There. She had enough info for her project, so she capped her pen and tossed it in her backpack. 

“Okay there’s one more thing I wanted to see before we go. Mushu let’s––Mushu? Mushu!” 

If you live in Disney City, monsters are just another part of life. The city is filled with villains and heroes both trying to make a name for themselves, and its high population and status as a leading cultural and economic center make it a prime target. Half the budget seems to be allocated to rebuilding wrecked sky scrapers and giving people therapy. 

So when an enormous, hairy, acid spitting monster crashed through Pizza Planet, Mulan just grabbed her slice of pepperoni and ducked under the table with Mushu. They watched as the crowd ran all around them, but in Mulan’s experience it was usually better just to hide instead of run. Running meant you could get trampled, and being in plain sight was always a bad idea. 

Mulan watched as the monster ambled along, slow and pretty disgusting. Not disgusting enough that it made Mulan lose her appetite, and she took another bite of her pizza. 

“This is gross,” she whispered. “Not the pizza. The monster thing. I wonder when the police are gonna—”

Just then a team of black clad figured rushed in and fired a hail of bullets at the monster. Which....Usually didn’t do a whole lot, but Mulan could see where they’re coming from. The bullets mostly bounced off the monster, making dangerous ricochets for everyone else. 

“It’s not working,” she said. “They’re not—”

Mulan lay stretched out on the floor in the living room, Little Brother bouncing playfully next to her head. Her mom, dad, and granny sat on the couch, and all of them stared at the television. Mulan was watching, but really only half watching; every few seconds or so her eyes would flicker to Little Brother, to pat his head or toss a ball for him to fetch. It was just strange, watching a funeral being broadcast over the whole country, for someone she didn't know. And for someone who was so young but so important.

But that didn't mean she wasn't respectful. Earlier in the week she'd went and bought a card with lotus blossoms on the front and written a heartfelt note inside, and placed it in the square of Chinatown, where all the other stuffed animals and notes and statues went. She'd even said a few prayers to her ancestors earlier that morning, her chest oddly heavy as she spoke. Maybe she felt so uncomfortable because it had hit her pretty hard, but it was a feeling that she couldn't quite explain. Maybe the reason she didn't want to watch the funeral was because funerals should be intimate, and everyone but the family was really just an outside, no matter how much they thought they'd connected with the young prince. 

She stared at the screen when the Emperor stood up to say a few quick words, but turned away again when the King and Queen of Corona gave their speech. Mulan didn't know much about Corona, but she did know about how they'd lost their own baby daughter years ago and she was nowhere to be found. When Sarabi stood, head high and mouth drawn into a line, everyone on the couch shifted uncomfortably. Another princess, Mulan couldn't remember her name—stood beside her and rubbed her shoulders while she spoke. 

When her mother made an offhanded comment about being thirsty, Mulan jumped up and walked to the kitchen automatically. She was glad to leave the room for a while, and found the routine steps to making tea somewhat calming. Little Brother followed her into the kitchen and she smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'll take you for a walk later. And maybe Mushu will be in the mood to go somewhere too. Wouldn't that be nice boy?" 

Mulan placed three cups of tea on a tray and made her way back to the living room, and as she turned the corner she caught little snippets of conversation:

"Died so young..."

"Horrible..."

"The King's brother..."

"No good..."

"...War..."

Mulan froze, staring at her parents and Granny before taking a careful step towards them. "What?" she asked.

"Do not intrude on a private conversation," her father said quietly, but with a familiar sternness. 

"Did you say war—"

*sent at 4 am*

mulan:eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

mulan:veRY BODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING

mulan: HUH!

mushu: uh what.

mushu: are u dRINKING

mushu: WHERE R U MISSY

mushu: okay i know you aint drinkin in the house where daddy fa'll catch u. do u need me to come fetch u

mushu: *1 min later* HE-LLO?!

Mulan: I'M IN LIKE A BRA

mulan: BAR

*sent at 4 am*

mulan:eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

mulan:veRY BODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING

Uh, I think you need to get your ears checked, Mulan.

If you say so. I know what I heard.

What? Girl I didn’t say anything. Uh, move along now, bet you got some chores to do or sumthin’.

Muuuuushu, did you just call me beautiful?

Aw thanks Mushu, you're gross and silly too. Wait I didn't catch that last part.