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Chapter Text

It had been three weeks since Tigress's wound had healed; three weeks since she had returned to the Jade Palace, virtually slammed the door shut on her master, and tried to prophesy her future with dominoes.

The little wooden game pieces had helped her mood, but did little in making any actual progress. Earning her master-hood would fall on her own abilities.

Tigress could do this. All she had to do was follow her master's instructions for a few years while pretending nothing was wrong, and forgetting her friend existed for a while until she finally earned the autonomy to see him herself.

What's so hard about that?

Sure, she would miss Po's boundless enthusiasm, and the comfort of edible (actually pretty good) noodles shared with decent (actually great) company, but she would survive. She had lived without those comforts before, for quite a while, in fact. She could live without them again.

All she had to do was not think about it. Like now, when she was completely and totally not thinking about the Ping Dynasty Noodle Shop and the afternoons spent doing Tai Chi, or the time she had somehow managed to set noodle soup on fire, (which all parties had agreed that night never happened. Ever.) or the Winter Feast made special by dinner, a show, and a night of family. She most definitely wasn't thinking about the night just a month ago where she had found a snacking panda in the pantry and tackled him to the floor, how said panda cut through to the heart of her issues, how the both of them shared a hug that Tigress still wasn't sure had actually happened.

An image of emerald eyes bright as jade flashed in her mind. The stone obstacle that swung down from the ceiling shattered in front of her paw. She was almost tempted to look around and see if anyone was watching her; a habit that Po had had when she was teaching him. No doubt his mannerisms had somehow infected her.

She dodged the next swing of the chain, ducking under the weapon. She was disciplined. How could one friend possibly change that? On any other day, dancing between the obstacles would be easy. This would normally clear her thoughts. Yet today, it was only after barely missing another swing that her thoughts focused themselves. Although, really, it was less of a focusing of thoughts, and more of instincts replacing them. 

She leapt out of the practice area. Clearly, this was not working.

She knew exactly why.

She hid a sigh and made towards her room. It wasn't abandonment, she told herself. It was just a matter of circumstances. He would understand, she was sure. Yet if that was the case, why didn't she tell him that herself?

Maybe she should have stayed in the training area a bit longer. Hitting something decisively hard would have been a good feeling. Then again, she had tried that already with Ironwood trees, and she had the bloodied knuckles to prove it.

Returning to the barracks might have been a good idea after all, as when she returned, she noticed something. Crane was in his own room, door shut. No doubt, he was composing another one of his letters back home.

It struck her like a bolt of lightning. There it was. The answer. With more cheer than she had had in the previous weeks, she closed the door to her own room. Every student was given a few rolls of parchment in their rooms, along with an inkwell. What they did with it was up to them, and it was a limited supply. For a calligraphy hobbyist like Crane, it would be nowhere near enough. For Tigress, however, it would be more than enough.

Spreading out the parchment and setting the inkwell however, she paused. What in her ancestors' names should she put down? An apology? A goodbye?

She took a deep breath. She should start with the truth. If nothing else, he deserved that much. Actually he deserved more, but the truth would be the best place to start.

She wrote out his name, not entirely sure tat she got the strokes exactly right, but certain that he would be able to read it, or at least guess.

Stroking out the order of events was strangely calming. It was a bittersweet process. Watching the characters take shape made the events of the past month seem more real than had appeared to her subconscious. She sprawled out her recovery, how she had gotten to know the others, as well as how she improved her tea-making skills. She hesitated once she came to the day she had to chose, but she stole her resolve. She had set out to give Po the truth, and she would give it to him. 

Detailing how she had made her choice had marked the end of the body of her letter. There was only one thing that she could conclude the letter with. Her apology complete, she gave it a moment, partly to look over her letter and partly to let the ink dry, before rolling it and tying a string around it.

She exited her room, noticing her timing had been perfect. Crane was just exiting his own room. "Crane," she called, "Could I ask a favor of you?"

"Uh, okay," Crane shrugged. "What's this about?"

"I need someone to make a delivery for me. Do you remember that restaurant we stayed the night at a few weeks ago?"

"The one with the noodles?"

"Exactly." Tigress revealed the roll of paper. "I need you to deliver this letter to that place. Can you do the for me?"

Crane rested his hat in his wing as he grabbed the letter with his foot. "Uh, sure, but what exactly is this about?"

"Let's just say that it contains my compliments to the chefs."

Crane gave a smile. "Alright then. I'll take care of it." He stuffed the letter into his hat before resting it back on his head.

Tigress felt a knot untie itself inside of her. "Thank you, Crane." he gave a curt tip of the hat and left. Tigress watched him leave, feeling better than she had in weeks. Her peace wasn't to last however. A sense of apprehension soon crept upon her. She sighed, deciding to head back to the training hall. She couldn't tell how Po would react, but at least now he would know. That was far better than simply leaving him.

Good or bad, Po would now. That would be enough for now.

It had to be.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Ping asked. "No dreams of noodles at all?"

"I know, weird right?" Po said. "You'd think that at least one of them would have noodles in it when I'm making them all day long, but no."

The two of them stood in the kitchen of their restaurant, the lunch crowd having not yet made it's way to the business. Rafters had needed cleaning this morning, and the bustle of business in the streets had not yet reached full volume.

"What do you normally dream about?" Mr. Ping asked curiously.

Po scratched his neck. "Oh. . . you know. . . being in front of people without my pants, swimming for long distances, that sort of thing."

"Hmm," Mr. Ping looked pensive for a moment, before dismissing his thoughts with a wave of his wing. "No matter. Destiny blooms in its own time."

Po hesitated. "And. . . if it doesn't?"

Ping looked at his son for a moment. "It does. Even if it sometimes doesn't feel like it. Sometimes you think the whole world is turning around and life is leaving you behind, but it isn't."

Po paused. "How can you tell?"

Mr. Ping smiled. "I never found a wife. I never had any luck with relationships. By the time my father retired from the family business, I had resigned myself to being the last Ping running the Ping Dynasty Noodle House. After that, who knows what would happen? Maybe I'd have held a mahjong tournement and given the restaurant to the winner, the way my grandfather did. I can tell you that I wasn't looking forward to it, but I couldn't imagine a future for myself where the Ping Dynasty continued past myself."

Po sat leaned in. "But Dad, you can't give it away!" he exclaimed. "Then it would just be the Dynasty Noodle House. Nobody would wants to eat there." He squatted down a bit in imitation of some random customers. "'Oh hey, you wanna eat at the Dynasty Noodle House?' 'Uh, which Dynasty, there's like, five of 'em.' 'Dunno, they didn't bother saying which.' See?"

Mr. Ping laughed. "Relax, I'm getting to the point. Besides, I'm not giving it away anymore. Because when I least expected it, destiny called. For some reason, and I do believe it happened for a reason, fate saw fit to bless me with a son. Me, unmarriageable Ping Bo, having a son to call my own."

Mr. Ping paused, enjoying the memory, returning to the present when he heard Po sniffle. He gave his son a reassuring smile. "You're not late in finding your purpose, Po. You're purpose is just taking its time finding you."

Mr. Ping waddled a few steps toward his son before being enveloped in a mass of black and white fur. Mr. Ping, although unable to fully wrap his wings around the panda, leaned into the hug. They pulled away a few seconds later. "Thanks Dad," Po said.

Mr. Ping opened his mouth, but a third voice cut through before any words could escape.

"O-oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

The Pings turned to look at their newest customer: a crane with a wide-brimmed hat.

"I can come back later if you want," he offered.

Mr. Ping shook his head. "That's alright. We were just about to get to work anyways."

"Wait," Po said. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

The crane gave an awkward laugh., before touching his wingtips together in greeting. "Student Crane, at your service."

"You're from the Jade Palace!" Po exclaimed. "Aw man, this is awesome."

"So, what can we do for you, Mister Crane?"

Crane rubbed the back of his neck with a claw. "Please, just Crane. And, actually, I have something for you." He rested his hat upside-down in his wing, fishing until he pulled out an envelope. "Delivery for a 'Ping Po'?"

"That's me!"

Crane smiled and handed the letter to the panda. "Compliments of the Jade Palace."

Po took it with reverence, looking at it for a moment. His eyes grew wide when he saw the name signed on the back. He rushed to the stairs. "I'm putting this in my room," he called. "I'll read it as soon as we're done."

Mr. Ping returned his attention to Crane. "While you're here, would you like anything? Bowl of la mian(*)? Yao mein(*)? A serving of freshly baked bean buns?"

Crane hummed in thought. "Do you have any dan dan recipes?(*)"

Mr. Ping smiled. "One bowl of dan dan noodles right away."

"Thank you," Crane said, just as Po came back down. "And do you mind if I have a side of those bean buns?"

"Side of bean buns," Po repeating, searching the kitchen. "Got it."

It only took a few minutes for the food to be prepared. Po came out the restaurant before setting the items down in front of Crane. "Order up."

The two of them watched as the bird savored his meal, pride welling up at seeing the face of a satisfied customer.

"This is a nice place," Crane said, paying at the counter. "Maybe I should come back sometime."

"We'll be glad when you do," Mr. Ping said.

As the two Pings watched Crane fly off, Mr. Ping felt the need to point out something. "See? What did I tell you? I knew someone would buy our bean buns!"

Po nodded, before jokingly rolling his eyes. "Well yeah, you can sell anybody anything the first time around. The real kicker is whether you can do it again."

"Oh hush you, you future restarauntuer."

Chapter Text

Faces of satisfied customers, a special guest from the Jade Palace, and a heartfelt conversation soothing his son's fears. It was Mr. Ping's perfect definition of a good day.

Until it wasn't.

Lunch would truly start soon, and with that, customers aplenty. Truth be told, it was getting somewhat taxing to run the entire shop by himself before he officially started teaching Po. At the moment, Po was occupied with reading his friend's letter. Mr. Ping hummed to himself as he started to prepare some extra broth. Beginning of the week usually meant people were hungry for something filling in between work.

Sure enough, the pigs and rabbits that made up most of the valley's denizens started to trickle into the shop. It was slow at first, enough for Mr. Ping to allow Po a few more moments in his room. This, however did not last very long. "Po," Mr. Ping called. "We have work to do!"

Mr. Ping waited a few moments, listening for the sound of creaking wood, or maybe a call signaling that his son would be coming, or perhaps an erstwhile yelp of panic followed by the crashing of a large panda falling down a flight of stairs. However, after a few moments, no such sounds came.

"Po?" Mr. Ping called again. 

Mr. Ping waited a few moments more. Again, there was no response. It was the very definition of being "too quiet"; even when Po tried to be quite, he would sometimes add little 'sneaking around' noises that achieved the exact opposite.

Mr. Ping gave a blanket statement to the queue that had started to form before creaking his way upstairs. Past the guest rooms, up the second flight, and into Po's increasingly kung fu themed room, where he sat in the middle.

"Po?" Mr. Ping asked gently.

He heard Po sniff and saw him wipe an arm across his face before Po turned to face him. "Hey Dad." Po greeted. His voice was slightly scratched.

Mr. Ping slowly waddled his way towards the panda. "What's wrong?"

Po neglected to answer. Instead he simply handed the now-opened letter to his father. Mr. Ping gently took it into his feathers, before scanning over its contents.

Po,
I first wanted to say thank you for the food and shelter that you gave my friends and I during that night just a month ago. I'm sorry that I could not talk sooner, healing from my cut took longer than expected. Let us just say that I have a newfound sympathy with your hatred of stairs. Were I able to walk more than a few flights of stairs a day, I would have come down for one of your bowls of soup.

Mr. Ping laughed to himself, warmth in his heart building. There was a slightly darker patch before the next line. One that indicated stray inkblots that had to be wiped off before continuing.

However,

Mr. Ping felt the warmth in his heart instantly die. No one ever had anything good to say when that was their first word.

It appears that my master has had a bad reaction to the event in question. He seems to view my visits and patronage to your restaurant as a distraction; one that wore away my discipline. As a precaution, I am forbidden from seeing you or your father until I have achieved master-hood. If it came from anyone else, I would simply ignore them and continue spending time with you. However, Shifu is my master, and moreover-

The next few words were smeared over. Evidently, Tigress had gotten cold feet.

What I am trying to say, and have avoided in saying in so many words, is that I will not be coming to the noodle shop for a while. Please know that while I cannot say for certain when I will be granted my master-hood, the first thing I will do when I have attained it, is celebrate with a bowl of  sau mein from the Ping Dynasty Noodle House. I will not call this letter a goodbye. Instead, I will call it a goodbye-for-now.
With Regards, Tigress.

"Oh," was all he could say.

"Yeah." Po agreed. "Oh."

Mr. Ping's brow then furrowed. "So this 'Shifu' guy thinks he can just waltz in, deprive me of a loyal customer and my son of a good friend, and waltz back out? Well then, he has another thing coming!"

Mr. Ping unrolled a piece of parchment, angrily, yet delicately, took out an inkwell and brush, and began to write out a precisely worded letter.

"Uh, Dad?" Po asked. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm writing a letter!"

Po peeked over his father's shoulder. (Admittedly, an easy thing to accomplish given the height difference.) "Yeah, but does it have to be so. . ." Po paused as he spotted a very, very particular symbol among the lines. ". . .Uh, wordy?"

Mr. Ping snapped up, gesturing with his brush. "Never mess with noodle-folk, Po! Our broth runs hot, and our anger runs hotter!" Mr. Ping then let loose a (in his mind) booming laugh full of authority and righteous fury.

Po wiped off the stray ink that had landed on his nose before fixing on his father a concerned gaze. It was never a good sign when his dad used the evil honk. Sighing he made ready to face the downstairs and attend customers, when he himself was struck with an idea. He dashed back into his room and grabbed another piece of parchment. Since his dad was busy writing what was sure to be the most scandalizing letter of the dynasty, Po had to use some of his colored inks. He debated on using red or white, before finally settling on orange.

He chose to keep his message short, and concise as he could be. The end result wasn't very pretty to look at, with rushed lines and sloppy calligraphy making it look a tad bit juvenile. Regardless of it's quality, he rolled it up tenderly before tying it with a red string. Just as he was about to get up, he heard his dad exclaim.

"My masterpiece!" Mr. Ping was holding his letter up to the window, as if it were a gorgeous landscape painting and not a deeply insulting and strongly worded question of Shifu's character, morals, and emotional stability.

Pings both senior and junior reached the end of the stairs at the same time. (Mr. Ping, having taken them two at a time, and Po, having tripped down the second flight.) "Now where's that bird man," Mr. Ping asked to himself, scanning the crowd. As soon as he set his sights on Crane, Mr. Ping waddled out past the kitchen and booth, heedless of the small crowd of impatient customers.

"Excuse me," Mr. Ping said to Crane with sincere politeness. "Would you mind terribly if I asked you to deliver this to your master?"

Crane looked at the letter. "Uh, sure. I'm gonna have to head back soon anyway."

"Thank you," Mr. Ping said. "And enjoy your meal."

Crane smiled as he watched Mr. Ping attend to his kitchen. He soon spotted Po making his way to the table, roll of parchment in hand. "Have a delivery for me too?" Crane asked, not impatiently.

"Yeah," Po answered. "This one to Tigress." Po set down his roll before digging through his pants' pocket, eventually pulling out a small, thin paper. "And a coupon for your delivery."

Crane took it in his foot. "'Buy one, get one free bowl of Secret Ingredient Soup.' Huh. Not a bad deal."

"I know right?" Po asked rhetorically.

"So, what is this 'secret ingredient,' anyways?"

Po leaned in and stage-whispered. "It's a secret!"

Crane looked at him levelly. "You have no idea, do you?"

"Absolutely not," Po answered with no hesitation. "My dad's the one who knows the secret ingredient. Apparently it's this sort of trade secret thing. He'll tell me when it's my turn to run the shop."

As if summoned by the mention, Mr. Ping called out "Po," from the kitchen.

"That's my cue," Po said after a short wince. "Oh, one more thing!" He leaned in to look at Crane. "Whatever you do, do not let Master Shifu read my dad's letter."

"Po," Mr. Ping called again.

"Coming!"

Crane watched the panda duck into the kitchen, catching bowls of noodles in his arms before being sent out to serve tables. His gaze shifted to the letter wrapped in white string. "Huh. . ."

Crane flew back to the Jade Palace, landing just past the doorway. Oogway was waiting for him. "Did you have a nice trip?" the turtle asked politely.

"Yeah, I found out about this nice noodle-house." Crane than took off his hat and pulled out a roll of parchment tied with white string. "By the way, I have a delivery for Master Shifu, though I should warn you; I've been told that it won't go over well if he reads it."

Oogway hummed before taking the letter into his claws. "Perhaps I should take a look at it first, then." He gingerly unfurled the paper, holding it out in front of him. ". . . Oh my. It's good that you gave this to me, I don't think Shifu would be able to handle it."

Who else should come out into the clearing but Master Shifu himself. "Crane. Master Oogway. What would I not be able to handle?"

"From the looks of it," Oogway answered, "the most scandallizing letter of the dynasty. It's addressed to you."

"What does it say," Master Shifu asked seriously.

"I don't think these words bear repeating," Oogway warned. "I can barely stomach reading them as is."

"Master Oogway, I deserve to know what people are saying about me," Master Shifu said.

"Oh alright, if you insist. Though, you can't say I didn't warn you." Master Oogway held out the letter, which was quickly snatched from his hands. As a distinctly red hue started to fill Master Shifu and the sound of a boiling teapot rang through the air, Master Oogway turned back to Crane. "I must say I didn't expect this from Mr. Ping of all people. Then again, I suppose it is understandable."

"Wait," Crane asked. "You know him?"

"Of course I do. We play checkers every now and again."

Shifu tightly clutched the letter, hard enough that there was the sound of bones popping. Stiffly, and hunched over, Master Shifu turned around and walked out of the courtyard.

"Shifu?" Oogway asked. "Where are you going?"

"To write my rebuttal!" Shifu answered.

A moment of silent passed between the master and student left on the courtyard. "This will not end well," Oogway said resignedly.

"I. . . think we may have just started a blood feud," Crane surmised.

"Indeed." Oogway then turned to Crane with a smile. "I can't wait to see what happens next." Master Oogway ambled off with a delighted chuckle.

For not the first time since coming to the Jade Palace, Crane wondered if Master Oogway was, perhaps, just a little bit insane.

Chapter Text

The door to Shifu's room being firmly shut, Crane decided that his time was best spent far, far, far away from whatever fresh hell was being cooked up. To that end, Crane made his way to the students' barracks, surveying each room until he came upon Tigress's. He tapped on the wooden door with his foot. "Tigress? Are you in there?"

There was a sound of shuffling in the room before the screen slid back to reveal Tigress' form. "Crane," she greeted curtly, but not impolitely. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I delivered your letter," Crane said. "He seemed to appreciate it."

Tigress face relaxed as she let out a relieved breath, not quite a whisper but not loud enough to be a sigh. "Thank you." Her mouth twitched, as if wanting to say mare, but lacked any words to do so.

Crane continued on in her stead, taking off his hat and fishing through it. "He also wrote back." Finally finding the scroll tied up with red string, he held it out in offering.

"He. . ." Tigress looked at the letter for a while, almost disbelievingly. She gingerly took it into her paws, as if it would crumble to dust the moment she touched it. For extra confirmation, she ran her thumb over the paper. She looked back at Crane, shooting an emotional smile. "Thank you. Truly. If. . . you ever think of something that I can do in return. . "

Crane held up a claw. "Don't worry about it. Seriously."

Tigress paused, before nodding gratefully.

"Well, actually. . ." Crane said, thinking twice. "You could start by telling me how exactly you two know each other."

"Simple," Tigress said. "We spent the night there, and I wanted to repay their generosity."

"No no no, ' Crane said, shaking his head. "That's how we know the Pings. What I'm curious of is how the Pings know you. And Master Oogway, for that matter."

Tigress' arms fell to her sides. "How. . . do you know about. . .?"

"Master Oogway mentioned that he and Mr. Ping play checkers sometimes. Also, Mr. Ping actually wrote Shifu a letter that has him shut up in his room, trying to write a meaner response." Crane then added, mostly to himself, "It wouldn't surprise me if he tries to invoke the Tenshu army to haunt them."

Tigress sighed, paw palming her forehead. "Crane, please tell me that those two aren't actually going to start feuding."

"Well, you tell me, is Mr. Ping the type to budge?"

Tigress only had stare at Crane levelly in answer.

Crane sighed. "Of course not. So, wait, you actually do know the Pings?"

Tigress shifted her gaze. "Yes. . . It's a bit of a long story."

"But you will tell me?" Crane asked hopefully. "I don't mind being your mail-stork, but I would like to know what's actually going on."

Tigress paused, before allowing herself a small smile. "I suppose that's fair enough." She held up her letter. "But not until after I've had time to read this."

Crane nodded. "That's fair."

The moment was broken by a cheerful voice "Hello, students." Both Tigress and Crane nearly jumped out of their skins at Oogway calling from right around the door.

"Master Oogway," Tigress greeted coolly.

"What brings you here?" Crane asked.

"Merely seeing how things are going," Oogway said. "Truthfully, I was going to warn the students to steer clear of Shifu's study for a while, but you seem to know that already. I was going to offer a spot of tea, and perhaps a game of weiqi, but I see you are busy enough."

Crane held up his claw. "I was actually just heading out. I've been meaning to practice my weiqi." Crane turned back to Tigress as he left. "Enjoy your reading."

Tigress watched the two of them walk out of the room and adjoining hall, before she closed her doors with the intent to do just that.

She walked over to her own bedroll, sitting on it cross-legged, whereupon she discovered again the difference between intent and action. Her paws cradled the letter gently as she set it down in front of her. It was a tiny little thing, really. Just an ordinary piece of paper tied untidily with red string. A few moments passed where she simply sat and stared. It wasn't disappearing, and she wasn't waking up, ergo she should have no fear of it disintegrating.

She should also, she reflected, have no fear of ink blotches on paper, especially when they were handed to her by two friends, both of which were among the sweetest souls she had met. (Then again, the list of people she knew on a personal level could probably be counted on both paws.) Crane's words came back to her, citing that Po's initial reaction to her letter, at least, was positive enough.

Tigress took a deep breath. That was enough stalling. Whatever contents the letter held, Po had taken the time to communicate in a way that could reach her. To hesitate any more would be disrespectful. So, with steeled gaze, her paws reached back for the paper, and slid the knot loose.

Another deep breath gave Tigress the strength to actually open the letter, revealing orange brushstrokes in rushed calligraphy.

Hey Tigress

Tigress huffed. Two words in, and it already sounded like Po.

I'm super bummed about your master. And I'm really bummed that I can't cook for you right now. But thanks for telling me at least. I would have gone nuts worrying if you didn't. I don't have much time, since my dad is writing. . . (Tigress paused as the next few words were smeared over in what was likely Po trying to find the right words, which struck her as just the tiniest bit out of character. At least coming from him. Clearly, the written word caused the panda to think about what he said.) . . . Something that I don't think needs writing. I don't think he likes your master much. But I wanted to send you this, so that way it still feels like a conversation. If you ever want to talk, just pick up a brush! I'll have a reply as soon as I can. Or maybe I can write something, I don't know; My dad's starting to laugh to himself in a really scary way, so I'll end it here. Write me back whenever!
-Po

Tigress looked over the letter. Then looked over it again. Only on a third and careful rereading did the reality of it settle. 

Po was not mad. Nor was he disappointed, at least not in her. Po wanted to talk. Po wanted Tigress's words, and was willing to hear them in whatever form she could provide.

Tigress' breath hitched, shook, before letting itself out in a choked sigh, as if it couldn't decide what sound her throat wanted to make. Her face was lifting, relaxing, yet her vision was blurring. Her paws pressed the letter into her chest, as if to smear the words directly onto her heart. Tigress' lungs had finally settled on laughter, interspersed with deep sniffs, as the method of release.

As her lungs settled and she wiped her eyes, she held out the letter for one more time. "Thank you," she told it. This letter, she had decided, was something worth keeping. Right above where she kept her dominos, she placed the new treasure.

For the first time in nearly two months, one of which spent in recovery and the other three weeks away from comfort, it felt like she could walk again.

Chapter Text

Playing games with Master Oogway was something that came with a few certain expectations. Firstly, one should expect to lose. Oogway always seemed to know exactly how things could go. Secondly, expect to have fun losing. Thirdly, and finally, expect to have conversations while doing so.

Perhaps that was the secret to his success; keep the opponent distracted and make the best moves while they answer. It would certainly fit with what Crane knew of the old turtle. Using a tactic that also served as socialization was probably a decent way to get to know somebody. Maybe Oogway just liked to know people? Was that how he won? Know the opponent enough to predict their moves.

Whatever it was, Crane was certainly feeling it, since he was currently getting his tailfeathers mopped in weiqi. Giving a thoughtful hum, Crane beaked at his foot before setting down his piece. For this particular game, he had chosen white, the advantage of which, he thought, was that being able to see Oogway's moves first would give him enough time to counter them.

He was wrong. So very wrong. Not a minute after he set down his own stone had Oogway set down another black stone, in a position where it was able to capture one of his.

"So," Oogway said, "what are your thoughts regarding the Pings' noodle shop?"

Crane let his tongue slip out as he pondered his next move

"They do know how to make a good bowl of dan dan, I'll give them that." Finally spotting a decent point, he set down his own stone. "Their bean buns are alright."

"Just alright?" Oogway asked, setting down a black stone.

"Maybe it's just that I'm used to my mom's recipe, but they tasted just a little bit too stiff. They weren't bad, but I've definitely had better."

"Maybe he gave you some of his older ones. They're definitely better fresh."

"So, how do you know the Pings anyway?" Crane asked, pulling short.

"Tigress invited me to lunch there once. She had a coupon, and I found it enjoyable enough to return again. I prefer their la mein, but I also enjoy their Secret Ingredient bowl." Oogway set down another stone. This time, Crane zeroed in on two different possibilities. The first would allow him to capture one of Oogway's spaces, while the other would net him more overall space, yet leave him vulnerable. "And what do you think of the Pings themselves?" Oogway asked.

Crane looked up at him, surprised. "What? . . If you're trying to say that I need to pick a side in this feud between master Shifu. . ."

Oogway shook his head. "Merely curious. They strike me as good people. Mr. Ping is a wise man, and Po is an honest soul."

Crane shook his head, finally deciding on capturing the more certain space. "You're right about Po at least. He was the one who warned me about the hate-mail. I don't know much about Mr. Ping. He seemed nice enough, but that could just be the customer service talking."

Oogway hummed in acknowledgement. "People are complex things indeed. Who can know how many thoughts make up a single mind?"

Crane gave a small laugh. "You seem to know most of them, master Oogway. Any estimations?"

Oogway laughed. "I'm afraid I can't say any more than you can. Some mysteries are deeper than the mind can probe."

Crane shook his head. "There has to be some things that make more sense with age though, right?"

Oogway smiled. "Some things get easier, yes, but you'd be surprised at how little becomes clearer. The bottom line is that life sometimes just doesn't make sense." Oogway leaned in closer. "I, for one, think it's a good thing."

Crane hummed.

Oogway started to rise. "Don't believe me? Why don't you count the board? I'll make us some oolong and we can play best two out of three."

As the old turtle turned and ambled toward the kitchen, Crane gave an amused chuckle. There was little doubt what the end result would be, but Crane could indulge the master a little. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to see how close he had gotten.

Crane dutifully counted the black pieces' territory, keeping a tally in the tens at first before shrinking down to single digits. He repeated the process for white. "40. 50. 60. . . Huh. . ." Maybe he had miscounted? He started counting his own pieces again, running up this time to the total instead of stopping halfway through. Just for confirmation, he counted the black territory once again.

"Huh. . ." was all he could say. Looking up revealed Oogway, a tray with two cups in claw.

"Tea?" Oogway offered amicably.

Crane hesitated, before taking a cup. "That. . . sounds nice. Thank you."

Okay, new rule: when playing games with master Oogway, expect nothing.

The following day, Shifu did not walk out of his study so much as he stormed out. A roll of paper was clutched closely to his chest, tied in white string. Every step thudded with as much force as his hind paws could produce. Viper was the first one to spy him on his patrol. At first she merely waved her tail and gave a smile. "Good morning, master," she greeted.

"Good morning, Viper," Shifu greeted in turn.

He could still feel her staring after him as he rounded the corner.

A few minutes later, he spied Mantis and Monkey both waiting outside another building. spying him, they both bowed. "Good morning, master," they greeted in rehearsed unison.

"Good morning Mantis, Monkey," Shifu greeted politely.

There was a small amount of pleasure to be had in the expressions of pure shock that followed him through the yard.

Finally coming across Tigress, he took initiative. "Good morning, Tigress."

"Master," she greeted. Only a second later had she realized what had happened, eyes blown wide. Hurriedly, she made her way inside, observing him from the safety of a window.

Master Shifu's path finally took him out into the courtyard, where he took a moment to admire the weather.

"Oh, ancestors no," Tigress whispered, upon witnessing the scene.

Finally, master Shifu had found his target. "Good morning, Zeng," he said warmly.

Zeng gave a small squawk in panic before replying, "G-g-g-good morning! Master Shifu!"

Master Shifu gave an honest smile. "I have a special request for you today, Zeng."

"O-oh," Zeng said, shivering. "What would that be?"

Shifu held his letter in one hand. "Would you be so kind as to deliver this letter for me? It's to the owner of a restaurant down in the valley. 'Mr. Ping's Noodle House.' Are you familiar with the place?"

Zeng, not trusting his beak, nodded.

Shifu gave a small, amicable chuckle. "Good. I look forward to your return," he said, handing Zeng the letter.

Zeng flew like someone had set his tailfeathers on fire. The view of the valley of peace from above was as beautiful as ever, stretching golden, brown, and green in patchworks and patterns. Today, however, was not the day to enjoy it.

Zeng might not have known exactly what was in this letter, but he did not for one second believe it was a normal letter. Perhaps Shifu had hexed a curse into it, or maybe it was written in gunpowder, waiting to explode? Whatever it was, Zeng held it out as far away from him as he could keep it, without running the risk of dropping it. The only thing worse than the letter, after all, was the prospect of not delivering it.

Finding the noodle shop was less work than he was expecting. Not accounting for the updraft that warm noodles produced, however, proved to be what tripped him. Zeng landed in front of the restaurant's counter face-first with a squeak and a honk.

Zeng spat out some stray dirt before righting himself up. Ignoring the people who accused him of cutting in line, Zeng faced the people at the counter, a middle-aged goose and a young panda. "Delivery!" he cried. "For the owner of this establishment! From the Jade Palace!"

The pair shared a look between them, before the goose spoke up. "I'll take that."

"Are you the owner?" Zeng asked, handing it anyway.

"Like my father before me!" the other goose, presumably Mr. Ping, answered proudly. "While you're here, would you like to order something? Bowl of chow mien, bean buns?"

"That's very kind of you," Zeng said, feeling relieved to finally have the lit firework in someone else's wings. "But I'm afraid I can't spare the time. Good day to you both."

Tigress didn't mean to slam the door open, but sometimes urgency prevailed over manners. "Master Oogway," she called.

Oogway looked up from his scroll, seemingly not minding the disturbance. "Good morning Tigress. You seem troubled today. Something I can help with?"

Tigress leaned over the table. "It's Master Shifu," she said gravely. "He's finally finished his reply. I saw him walk out to the gate today, and he was smiling."

Oogway simply gave a noncommittal smile of his own as he returned to his reading. "And why is this upsetting? I would think it would be good news to see him smile again."

"No, no," Tigress said, "you don't understand. He stopped to admire the weather."

Oogway opened his mouth to respond, before the implications of such a statement set in. After a moment, all he could say was, "Oh dear."

During a temporary lull between the breakfast and lunch hours, Mr. Ping took a moment to look out over the scene of satisfied customers before pulling out the letter that the black-feathered goose had brought him. Po, who had just returned to the kitchen from delivering the last order, took notice as Mr. Ping  pulled the white string apart.

"Is that the letter from the Jade Palace," Po asked with a slightly scrunched eyebrow. "Are you sure it's a good idea to open that in the middle of the day?"

Mr. Ping, for his part, merely gestured away with a wing as the paper unfurled. "Oh, it'll be fine, Po. I'll read this, accept master Shifu's apology with magnaminity. . . magnety? . . Magnamity? mag. . . the word that means generosity, and we'll celebrate with some Secret Ingredient Soup."

"And. . ." Po offered cautiously, "If it isn't his apology you're reading?"

Mr. Ping huffed. "Well now that you've put that thought out there, I'll get anxiety all day from not knowing, and won't be able to make any Secret Ingredient Soups."

The matter apparently settled, Mr. Ping pulled up to his second-favorite chair, (the first having previously met its end along with the other bamboo furniture some years ago) sat down comfortably, and made to read what he was certain was a formal apology rescinding Tigress's restriction, and an official endorsement of the Ping Dynasty Noodle House.

It Was Not.

"Dad . . ?" Po asked as a distinctly red hue was beginning to fill Mr. Ping's body. He had seen this kind of rage in his father only once before, when Mr. Wen had made some comment about the importance of keeping the family tree in-house. (To this very day, Mr. Wen still tried to give them dumplings as apology.) Po saw all the same signs, from the tightness of his father's beak, to the sound of boiling water that steammed from his ears. He had just enough time to run through the door and shout "Everybody get down!"

Oogway found Shifu standing patiently by the entrance, looking out over the valley below. "Good morning, Shifu."

"Good morning, master," Shifu greeted in turn, not taking his eyes away from the view.

"I assumed you would have begun the students' morning drills by now. Whatever are you doing out here?"

"Waiting," Shifu said simply.

Oogway gave a hum, before turning his gaze towards the valley as well, taking a moment to sit down cross-legged in front of the steps. For a few moments, all was well: the Valley of Peace truly living up to its name.

Shifu's ears began to twitch a moment before Oogway could perceive its echo. "Ah," Shifu said blandly, "here it is."

The sound that came rushing up from the valley was a cry of outrage and fury so primal it shook the very air it traveled upon, and rattled the stones of the palace as it lingered for at least three minutes.

Master Shifu took a deep breath, as if to savor the sweet sound of such suffering, before letting it out in a satisfied exhale.

Oogway, shook his head once the sound had passed, as if to clear it out of his mind. He spared a glance at the red panda. "My friend," he said simply, "this is not the path to Inner Peace."

"Perhaps," Shifu conceded, "but it is satisfying."

Chapter Text

Mr. Ping was not a goose that was crossed lightly. This was a fact known to players of checkers, unpaying customers, and overly ambitious entrepreneurs the entire valley over. This was a fact that one master Shifu was about to learn. Of this, Mr. Ping had no doubt.

For this particular act of retribution, he had made nighttime his ally, and garbed in a black bodysuit that Po hadn't even known his father had had, stole his way across the palace steps, intent on delivering justice.

Speaking of Po, Mr. Ping spared a glance across his shoulder, and then down a bit to find Po wheezing his way up the steps, not bothering to change into any new clothes since his fur already was half-black. 

"Come on, Po," Mr. Ping stage-whispered. "Just a little more to go and we'll be up at the top!"

"I'm coming," Po called with another deep breath. after a few more steps he called out "You couldn't have just sent another letter?"

"If I respond to his letter with just another letter, he can grow to ignore them. Or he'll just rip them up without reading them. This, however, he can't ignore."

"This seems. . . kinda rude, though." Po thought aloud.

Mr. Ping shot a flat look. "And the letters weren't?"

Po shrugged. "I mean, they were, but at least then it would stay between you two. This seems. . . I dunno, too public. Like, you know those dreams where you're furless in front of a lot of people?"

Mr. Ping smiled. "That's the point!"

"Make Shifu naked in front of people?"

"No!" Mr. Ping said, before putting his feather to his beak in thought. "Well, not physically at least."

Finally, they had arrived at the top, and with it, the red doors of the Jade Palace. Mr. Ping started rubbing his wings together in anticipation. "It's time," he half-whispered. "Po," Mr. Ping called quietly, "the tools."

Po dug through his pockets before pulling out a hammer, some nails, and a roll of papers. Taking them gently into his wings as if they were holy instruments, Mr. Ping began to chuckle menacingly. "Nailing his flaws on the front door, where everyone can see them! It's genius! I wonder why no one ever thought of this before?"

*A long, long, ways away on the other edge of the globe, in a secluded monastery, a German shepherd sneezed.

The next morning started the way all disastrous days do: unassuming and quietly, with naught but a hint of the trouble to come. As was the standard, the teachers and students had been the ones to wake up first, training starting near the beginning of dawn. The servants and attendants had not woken up until closer than nine in the morning. 

It was in the middle of one of her katas that Tigress witnessed Zeng burst into the room looking like he had seen a violent bloody murder. "MASTER SHIFU!" He cried.

The aforementioned red panda had only spared an irritated glance and a heavy sigh. "What is it, Zeng?" he asked flatly.

Zeng ran over, skidding to a stop with a screech. He folded over in gasping breaths, attempting to form sentences between wheezes. After the third round of attempted syllables, Shifu gave a roll of his eyes before grabbing Zeng by the shoulders. "Zeng," master Shifu said firmly, "What is it?"

Zeng gave one last deep inhale before finally getting his words straight. "You really need to see this."

The students watched as Zeng lead their master out through the training hall's doors. Mantis and Monkey shared a conspirationnel look between them, which in turn triggered concerned glances from the rest. One by one, they followed their master out towards the front gates.

As it turns out, Zeng had seen a murder scene, though not one of the literal sense. Covering the doors in their entirety, and sparsely glued to the surrounding walls, were innumerable copies of a paper. It was only when Master Shifu angrily tore one of them down that the shock wore off, allowing the crowd to read them clearly.

By the time they had all read them, every number of emotions had passed through the group. Master Shifu had gone from angrily reading them, to tearing them apart in outrage, before finally simmering down to a cool fury.

Viper was stuck shaking her head, as if she couldn't quite believe the words written in front of her. Crane simply squinted at a copy that he had peeled off of the wall, adjusting his had every once in a while to study the characters. Mantis was doubled over, having laughed his lungs near to collapse, while Monkey sat in confused silence. "Okay, so. . ." Monkey began cautiously, "Was anyone going to tell me that Mr. Ping knew more curse words than my uncle **Sanzang, or was I supposed to find that out on my own?" Oogway was the last one in attendance, simply content in enjoying his morning tea.

Tigress, however, held no reaction, or any emotion at all, save for a white-knuckled curling of her paws, and the subtle shaking of her frame. "Master," she said, voice flatter than the surface of a game board, "These papers. . . they dishonor you as my teacher, and in doing so, dishonor me. Please, allow me to be the one to dispose of them."

Master Shifu paused, rolling up one of the copies to gather his thoughts. "You would do me a great service in this," he said. "Very well. Gather up all of these blasted things, and dispose of them as you see fit. Shred them, bury them, burn them, I don't care. Just make sure that I never have to see them ever again."

Tigress bowed, hand-to-fist in front of her. "Master," she said simply.

"As for the rest of you," Master Shifu called, "we still have training to do! I will prove to this Ping Bo that no matter what he says, I am still the greatest Kung Fu teacher in China!"

(Oogway gave a quiet chuckle. "Not yet, my friend. Not yet.")

As the students walked back inside the Palace, they couldn't help glancing back at Tigress as the doors began to close. "Have fun," Oogway called, just before heading inside.

"Do you think Tigress is okay?" Viper whispered. "I've never seen her shake like that."

"You're telling me," Monkey said, "If her jaw gets any tighter, we might need to pry it open ourselves to get it loose."

It was only once the doors closed with a resounding thud that Tigress's frame loosened. Her eyes closed as she took long, slow breath. She then threw her head back as she released a reaction that was most definitely not anger.

Crane returned to the students' chambers with feathers ruffled, and wings sore. Even opening his screen door was an action that made his tendons groan. Flopping onto the floor, he laid himself out like a bird passed on: which really wasn't too far off from what it felt like.

He heard footsteps from the hallway, and the collective groans of the other students, each of them sounding like the living dead. "Rest well, students," Shifu called. "We begin our real training in the morning!"

This caused yet another groaned chorus, reminding Crane yet again of the time some neighborhood kids had dressed themselves as ***jiangshi as part of a prank. Before he could relive those embarrassing memories further, he heard another set of footprints come from further down the hall. 

"Tigress," master Shifu greeted. "Have you finished disposing of those letters?"

"Down to the last one, master," Tigress answered evenly.

"Good," Shifu responded. "I advise you rest tonight. You join the others in the morning."

"Master," Tigress said simply as she bowed. As Shifu's short steps retreated into the distance, Tigress' stride carried her over to Crane's door. "Crane," she called, "are you still alive?"

Crane twisted his neck upwards to look at her. "No," he said. "No, I'm not. This is his ghost speaking."

Tigress gave a slight huff and a roll of her eyes before she asked "Can I come in anyways?"

Crane laid his head back down. "Sure. Not like I can really stop you right now. Curse you and your dutiful chore-doing," he said in mock anger. "By the way, could you get the door behind you? Thanks."

Tigress gave a small chuckle as the door slid closed. She made a show of observing the room, avoiding looking at Crane directly. "You know, it's a real shame Crane died today," she said as if to herself. Crane heard the flap of a piece of paper being unrolled, and out of curiosity, once again lifted his head. "I was hoping we could have practiced our calligraphy again," Tigress said, holding a very recognizable piece of paper.

Crane stared in disbelief for a moment, then two, before bursting with laughter. It was short lived, however, as he ended it with a wince. "Oh, please don't make me laugh right now.  Even my lungs are sore. I don't even know how he did that. How did he manage to make even my lungs sore?"

Well into the night, strange noises could be heard from the training hall.

Hammer clutched between his jaws, materials and tools in hands, and a manic anger in his eyes, Shifu was furiously at work in the training hall. He studied the blueprints once, then twice, ducked under the rafter to continue working for a second, and then popped out from underneath them free of any tools to roughly grab the blueprints and stare at them closely and intently.

"I'm sorry Taotie, could you use a messier brush?! I almost understood what that was supposed to be for a moment," he shouted to the piece of paper.

"Shifu?" A voice called from the entrance. "What are you doing down there at this time of night?"

Shifu turned to look at master Oogway. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm renovating the training hall!"

"By yourself?"

"The contractors were taking too long."

"All night?"

"Whatever it takes to get this done."

Oogway sighed. "And nothing I say will get you to rest, will it?"

Shifu shook his head, having returned to the frustratingly cryptic and sloppy writing. "Nothing comes to mind at the moment."

Oogway hummed. "How about I just leave out some tea, and you take a break when you feel like it? Would you prefer jasmine or oolong?"

Shifu merely waved dismissively. "Either. Just as long as it can keep me awake."

Only when the doors closed did Oogway allow himself another sigh and the shake of his head. "Oh, Shifu. You never did learn how to pace yourself." Oogway shrugged as he set off towards the palace interior. "Oh well. I suppose that's why I'm still around. Now, which flavor tea would the sleep medicine blend best with, I wonder?"

Chapter Text

To say that training that morning started unusually would be an understatement. For one, it hardly started at all. Like usual, the morning gong had rung, and the students appeared outside their doors, saluting out of habit. It took a grand total of half of a minute for the assembled students to realize that the hallway was empty.

They stared around the hallway in unanimous confusion, before Mantis broke the silence. "So. . . does this mean we get the day off?"

"Does Shifu even take days off?" Viper asked.

Tigress' eyes narrowed, "Not in my experience."

"You think he's sick?" Crane suggested.

"Maybe," Tigress said. "But if that were the case, he would usually have someone come by anyways, or write out drills for us in the training hall."

"So where is he?" Monkey asked.

"Good morning students," a cheerful voice sounded from Tigress' room. Tigress whirled around, fist raised and ready to strike, before she met with a familiar green visage. Her paws only lowered themselves once Master Oogway had made his way out into the hallway.

"Master," Tigress greeted with a small hint of annoyance. "I trust you didn't come here just to test my reflexes."

Oogway gave a small chuckle. "Quite so. Though I must say, it was an impressive display of control for you to stop yourself."

Tigress rubbed her temples. "Someone is going to end up hitting you one of these days."

Oogway laughed again. "Perhaps." His neck swiveled to look at the rest of the assembled students. "Anyways, I came to tell you students that Shifu will not be able to oversee your training today."

"So he is sick," Mantis said, with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm.

"Mantis, no, you are not using those needles again," Tigress shot.

Oogway shook his head. "I'm afraid it isn't that. It's not that he has other business either. It would be best if I showed you. Follow me," Oogway said, beckoning with his staff.

Monkey was trying, and failing, to contain his laughter, his chortles escaping through his hands. Viper and Crane simply stared in shock, heads tilted at opposite angles. Tigress' face was a blank look of shock, for there was simply no way to process what exactly she was seeing.

The second oddity of the day, was that in the floor of the soon-to-be-completed training hall, was the head and shoulders of one master Shifu, the rest of his body being hidden behind the wooden rafters.

In trying to tug his arms free, Shifu froze, his eyes directed straight towards the entrance. 

After several moments of blank staring, Tigress slightly lifted her paw, not quite sure if she should reach out to lend a hand, or wave. "Master Shifu," she simply said in greeting. "Is. . . everything alright?"

Shifu gave a brisk, throat-clearing cough before straightening himself up as best he was able, and tried to look at his students with as much dignity as able. "Good morning, students. . . As you can see, I am continuing to renovate the training hall."

"Shifu," Oogway said conversationally, "Are you stuck?"

Shifu tried to turn his face up, "Of course not," he said, giving a few tugs of his arms experientially. "I'm perfectly capable of freeing myself whenever. . ." A few tugs more, and his head drooped down in defeat. "Yes. Yes, I'm stuck."

Tigress let her head fall into her palm as Oogway started to chuckle, and Monkey's laughs finally breached containment. She let an eye peak out of one of her fingers. "Crane, could you. . ?"

Crane gave a sigh. "Alright. Let's get this over with." Crane made his way over to Shifu, before grabbing with his feet. "Sorry for this, master."

Crane gave one, two, three hearty flaps of his wings, before Shifu was finally pulled free with a pop. The both of them landed tumbling backward. Standing up as Crane righted himself, Shifu dusted himself off, before pausing, noticing his loss of footwear.

Shifu sighed. "I'll have to send Zeng down there later." His glance slid briefly to the students assembled, From Monkey collapsed with laughter, to Viper's confused glance, and Tigress' knowing gaze. He took in a deep exhale. "Class is postponed for the day. Dismissed."

"Perhaps instead of trying to interpret Taotie's notes," Oogway offered as the students started to mill out, "we should simply ask him instead."

Days off were something of a myth to Tigress. Shifu certainly wasn't one to take breaks for longer than any given meal. This habit was something that had spread to Tigress herself. So it was that when, on this particular day, her time was abruptly hers to do what she chose with, there was little she could think of to do, beyond wait in her room and try to think of something.

Viper had gone off to practice her ribbon dancing, Monkey had decided to head into town, Oogway and Crane were engaged in a game of weiqi, and Mantis had decided to do some reading in the Hall of Warriors.

Tigress' fingers itched to do something, her claws sliding in and out with restlessness. It wasn't until she spotted the shelf where she kept the dominoes that the thought occurred to her.

She had something to write about.

Tigress rose to her feet, pulled out the paper and inkwell, and for good measure, cracked her knuckles. With an eager grin, she unfurled her paper, setting her paperweight. She wet her brush, held it delicately over the page. . .

And nothing. Absolutely no words came to her mind. The pause lasted a few moments before she was able to write out "Dear Po," as an address. And still, the rest of the page remained blank, almost taunting her with its emptiness. For a moment, she considered simply writing something completely false and fantastical just for the sake of having something written down.

Tigress gave a small laugh to herself, before reminding herself of what worked the last time. Start with the truth. With the mindset of writing finally captured, Tigress began her brushstrokes with a measured, purposeful pace. 

That was, until the winds picked up. 

The windows to her room in the palace rattled back and forth, before blowing open with a howl. The sudden burst of cold air made flinch to the side, knocking over the weight. The paper, marked with its still yet ink, flew across the room before being carried out towards the window.

"No, no no!" Tigress scrambled, trying to grab at the letter, before it flew out of her reach. Tigress stared at the escaping piece of paper flapping in the wind for a moment, before hanging her head with a frustrated growl.

Today, Po felt, was going to be a good day. Clear sun and a nice cool breeze made for the perfect late-winter day in the Valley of Peace. Customers came and went in a steady but not manageable stream. The scent of warm broth and freshly cut vegetables wafted over him as he stepped out between tables, carrying orders. There was even a family at one point, taking their daughter out for a birthday celebration with yi mein.(*) 

As Po swept between sets of costumers, a weak flapping noise drew his attention. A quick glance up revealed an unassuming piece of paper gently falling towards the ground. Out of curiosity, he watched as it landed on one of the tables.

Picking it up, the first thing he noticed was his name. The second was the handwriting. Looking around for anyone nearby, Po read the letter.

Dear Po
I trust that you have been doing well these past few days. For my part, training has continued to progress steadily. I can now say with confidence that I am at the same level as I was pre-injury.

I'm sure your curious about how this feud between my master and your father has affected me. For starters, it has kept Shifu remarkably distracted, often too angry to form coherent thoughts. Seeing his fury directed at a target just as stubborn as he is has been a surprising source of amusement. However, do not mistake my amusement for tolerance. I may have my own struggles with Shifu, but he is still my master. Knowing that this feud was likely your father's idea and not yours is the only thing keeping me from marching down the palace steps myself and kicking your-

The letter cut off there, for which Po was equal parts unnerved and relieved. "Well . . ." he said to himself, "at least she doesn't hate me." With a small laugh, Po looked around the restaurant. "Hey Dad!" Po called.

Mr. Ping's head popped up behind the counter. "Yes?"

"We've got a wrong letter here. I recognize the address though, so can I run it over?"

Mr. Ping tapped his feather to his lower beak. "Actually, this is perfect timing! A few of my customers wanted deliveries. I'll write them down and you can take them with you."

"Great," Po said, before taking a second look. "Uh, before I forget, you got any string?"

That afternoon, while enjoying the mountain view from underneath the Sacred Peach Tree, Oogway hear a knock on the door. Standing up and feeling the creak in his joints, Oogway made towards the entrance. 

Pushing open the red doors, Oogway looked out in front, then side to side, before finally looking down at the panting mess of fur laying at his doorstep. "Good afternoon, Po," he greeted.

Po raised his hand. "Hey. . . Master Oogway." He then fished through his pockets to find a rolled-up piece of paper. "Tigress. . . may have lost this," Po offered, still panting.

Oogway gingerly picked up the package. "Red string," he muttered, eying the knot holding it rolled. Before he could comment further, Po held up a second piece of paper.

"My dad also wanted you to have this," he said, finally getting up. "He said something about a 'loyal customers program.'"

 "Did he now?" Oogway asked, taking the second paper in claw.

"Honestly I think that's just his way of saying that he wants a rematch."

Oogway chuckled. "He does play a mean game of checkers. I'll head down sometime."

"Great," Po said. "I gotta get back down before my dad needs me. Tell Tigress I said high!"

Oogway watched with some small amount of amusement and fondness as Po trotted down the Thousand Steps, tripping over the 899th step and more or less rolling his way down the rest. "He'll be fine," he said to himself.

Oogway, upon taking a nice afternoon stroll around the palace, found Tigress in the training hall supervising Crane, who was working on a painting. "Maybe add a little bit more red, around the cheeks."

"Good afternoon, students."

Crane spared a glance from his painting. "Afternoon, Master Oogway."

"Whatever are you working on?"

Tigress smiled, stepping aside. "We felt that this morning deserved to be immortalized."

Oogway leaned in to look closer at the painting. Sure enough, in a cartoonishly rounded and exaggerated style, was a painting of Master Shifu, stuck in the floor boards, irritatingly demanding to be let out judging by the puffs of smoke coming out of his ears. Oogway laughed fully. "My, my. This is some excellent work. Perhaps you should bring it to the Hall when you're done?"

Crane perked up. "Seriously?" His gaze shifted back and forth before he hid it behind his hat. "That. . . that sounds nice. Thank you." Crane took another look at the painting. "Honestly, I was kinda worried that I made his snout too long."

Oogway looked with Crane. "Perhaps. But did you enjoy making it?"

Crane finally lifted his hat. "Well. . . yeah. This was fun."

"Then it is good art," Oogway said nodding. He then turned to face Tigress. "By the way, this letter came in for you from the Pings. Po said hi."

"Really?" Tigress asked, gently taking the rolled up paper. Upon untying the string and unfurling it, she discovered that it was actually two papers, one a smaller note scrawled in Po's handwriting, the other written in her own hand. "Is this. . ?" Tigress asked herself, before quickly reading the note.

"I think you dropped this," was all that Po wrote.

"This is my letter," Tigress said.

Oogway hummed. "Po did say he thought that. Now how did that happen?"

"It must have fallen down to the noodle shop when I lost it. There was a large gust, and I knocked over my paperweight. It was honestly just one big acci-. . ."

Tigress cut herself off as she noticed Oogway's smile.

She held up a finger warningly. "Don't. Coincidence: I was going to say coincidence."

Oogway merely chuckled as he gently shook his head. "Nothing means nothing, Tigress. After all, even 'nothing' means something. That's why I never use the word 'meaningless.'"

"Didn't you just use it though?" Crane asked from his easel.

Oogway laughed. "Well, that just goes to show my point, now doesn't it?"

Tigress huffed, but smiled gently. "Crane. Master Oogway," she addressed before looking at the pieces of paper. "If you'll excuse me, I have some writing to do."

"Go right ahead," Crane called, "I've got my own work."

Chapter Text

Spring had arrived without any spectacular fanfare, save for the swelling of rivers and the thawing of the chilly air. The desolate cold that had lingered past new year's was being slowly shaken off by the earth. Snow had been mostly banished, save for a few mountain peaks where it held permanent residence.

It was a welcome change, and one that brought with it the scent of flowers in bloom and a promise of renewal. There was a new sense of energy in the Jade Palace today. As Oogway ambled through the grounds, he could spot a number of attendants doing any number of activities.

Wading through the busy back-and-forth between many pigs, ducks, and rabbits, Oogway strode near the front gate. The warm air greeted him, sun warming his old bones. Once past the gate itself, he chose a decent, sun-warmed looking rock and sat on it.

A few moments later, a heaving, wheezing figure made itself known to him. It flopped over belly-side down just in front of his rock. "Good morning, Po," he greeted.

The panda rolled onto his back. "Good morning, Master Oogway." After an exhausted sigh, he sat up and pulled out three separate letters. "My dad's weekly hate-mail, a letter to Tigress, and this one I got from your regular mailman. He said he had something going on with his knees, so I carried it up for him."

Oogway chuckled as he took the letters off of Po's hands. "Our current mailman has been coming here for over thirty years. That's a good ten years more than the average."

Po looked down the expanse of stairs. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see why people wouldn't want to do this for a living."

Oogway hummed thoughtfully as he palmed the letters. The latest instalment of the Shifu v. Ping series, tightly wrapped with white string, a formal-looking letter neatly wrapped with green, and Po's letter loosely sealed, again, with red string. "Outside of waging war on my pupil, how is your father, Po?"

"Oh Dad's doing just fine. I think the feud might actually be bringing in more customers. 'Look at the crazy goose trying to fight the kung fu master,' type of stuff." 

Oogway smacked his lips twice, tasting the air. "I take it you don't like that."

Po shrugged, huddling himself closer together. "It's just. . . It was easy enough to deal with when it was just the two of them involved. I didn't, y'know, want him to make the most scandalizing letter of the dynasty, but that's just my dad being my dad. I might not like Master Shifu, but I've also never met the guy, y'know?"

"Hmmm, quite," Oogway agreed quietly.

"It's just. . . I didn't ask Dad to pick a fight for me, Tigress didn't ask him to pick a fight for me, so now there's this whole drama going down about the Pings and the Jade Palace, and it's got everyone's attention. I know who my Dad is, but they don't. I just. . ." Po paused to sigh.

"You just. . ." Oogway prompted.

"I just didn't want this to be the thing that made the Ping's Noodle House famous. I don't want people coming just to be judgmental." Oogway hummed thoughtfully in the moment of silence that followed. Enough time passed for Po to let out a small laugh. "Anyways, you probably didn't come out here for all that. Sorry to ramble on, I'll let you get back to your Kung Fu."

Po was only a few steps out of one thousand when Oogway's voice called out to him. "Po," he said. Po stopped and turned halfway. Oogway stared directly at him, and in some ways, he felt like, through him. "Never apologize for wanting or needing help." Oogway paused, letting the simple message sink in. Then he smiled. "I believe that things will work out exactly the way they are meant to. Can I ask you to believe the same?"

Po's eyes shifted, before going back to Oogway. He felt himself smile, just a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that."

Oogway's head tilted, smiling with knowledge. "You think you can?"

Po huffed a little bit of a laugh. "I'll try. That's all I can promise."

Oogway nodded. "Then that's all I will ask." Oogway watched as the panda retreated down the steps. It seemed to Oogway that Po was just a few pounds lighter coming down than he was coming up. Still smiling softly to himself, he turned and headed back into the Jade Palace.

Oogway started to make his way to the training room, taking outdoor routes around the facilities rather than through them. Just before he came to the doors of the training room proper, he found Zeng sweeping across the grounds. "Ah, Zeng, could I trouble you with something?"

Zeng stood straight with a squawk of mild panic. "Of course, Master Oogway," Zeng answered, already feeling a portent of doom.

Oogway pulled out the letter with white string, handing it to the goose. "Could you take this to Shifu's room? I would give it to him myself, but we both know that he won't get anything else done once he reads it." Oogway hummed as Zeng handled the letter like it was a lit bomb. "In fact, maybe it would be better simply to hide it."

Zeng gave an exceedingly forced smile. "Of course, right away, Master Oogway." Zeng then proceeded to waste no time in running out of sight.

Oogway chuckled to himself as he watched the goose retreat out of sight. He then pushed inside to the training room. Inside, yet another new machine had been installed. This one, it appeared, was made of several rotating beams, all shaped like screws. Tigress was testing it out, under master Shifu's supervision.

"Good morning, Shifu," Oogway called.

Shifu spared a glance at Tigress before turning to greet Oogway back. "Good morning, Master Oogway." Shifu nodded towards the letters. "Today's mail?"

"Indeed. I haven't had the chance to look through them yet, but I have one for the both of you."

Shifu turned to signal one of the gesse, and nodded to Tigress. A moment later, the rotating platforms came to a stop, and Tigress hopped off onto more stable footing. Oogway handed each of them their letters.

Shifu unwound the green string, unfurling the letter leisurely. Tigress took a quick glance around before hurriedly untying the red string.

Shifu's brows furrowed as he hummed to himself, his eyes looking over the letter at a measured pace. Tigress slowly absorbed the contents of her letter, unaware of the smile playing on her face. 

They folded their letters back at the same time, Shifu with a satisfied nod and Tigress trying to hide a chuff. Shifu then turned to his student. "Assemble the others. It appears we have some good news for a change."

Tigress bowed. "Right away, Master."

Oogway leaned forward as Tigress left. "Good news, you say? Are you certain it isn't just news?"

Shifu allowed himself a small smirk. "You'll know when the others get here."

Half an hour later, the students all stood in the training hall, with Shifu standing before them, and Oogway sitting contently to the side. "Students," Shifu greeted, "I have some good news for you all. Two weeks from now, there will be an entire week of opera, hosted by the emperor himself." Shifu then held up the letter. "The masters and students of the Jade Palace have been invited. Any shows we wish to see, we have free access to."

Shifu handed the letter to the students to review among themselves as they saw fit. Tigress held it with the others peering over, the message still sinking in. "We're . . . going to see plays?"

Mantis' antennae twitched. "Huh. This should be interesting."

Monkey shrugged. "I never really understood the appeal. It seemed like more of a rich person thing."

"I, for one," Crane said, "welcome the opportunity. This sounds like it'll fun. And culturally enriching to boot!"

Viper perked up. "Ooh, a night at the opera sounds fun. I'll have to find something nice to wear!" Viper's head whipped as a thought occurred to her. "Ooh! Tigress, do you have anything fancy?"

Tigress tried to suppress her grimace. After a beat of silence, she gestured to herself, and more specifically, her now repaired new year's gift. "I. . . have this?" she offered plaintively.

Viper shook her head. "Oh honey, no, this is casual nice. We need something fine nice!" She gasped. "We could make a day out of it! Maybe I can find some good eyeliner too."

Crane, Mantis, and Monkey backed away slowly as one as Viper began to describe in more detail the true depth of fashion. As discreetly as she could, Tigress shot them a quick glance, mouthing the words 'help me.'

Crane only gave a nervous laugh and waved goodbye before he and the others slipped away around the corner.

Tigress returned her gaze to Viper, who was still pondering the wonders of dress-upage. Tigress internally swore that Crane would pay, when an evil thought struck her. At the nearest break in Viper's stream of consciousness, Tigress spoke. "You know, I'm not sure the others have anything nice either. We should probably make sure."

Viper turned back to Tigress, her eyes sparkling, and Tigress knew her revenge was already in motion.

Later, in the dead of the night, master Oogway found himself awoken by the creeping sense that something was wrong. Oogway looked around his room, but could find no obvious problems. Content to leave whatever it was to the morning, Oogway laid back down. Before sleep could yet again find him, he heard the scuffle of feet and muttered cursing pass by his door, in the familiar voice of Shifu.

"Ah, that must be the Ping's letter."

Hey Tigress!

I found out something interesting today! Did you know that turtles can live more than a hundred years old? I wonder how old Oogway is. I'd ask him, but it feels kind of rude, and I think he'd just dodge the question anyways.

Thanks for sharing that story about Master Shfiu getting stuck! I think it's only fair I share a story myself.

You know, I once ate the entire living room? I'm not exaggerating that either. I was really little, but going through a growth spurt. Dad didn't think he had to worry about leaving me upstairs since all the sharp and pointy stuff is in the kitchen. 

Anyways, Dad goes about his day feeding his customers, setting aside a small lunch for me. The problem is, I get hungry again not too much long after, and here's this lovely little bamboo stool. At first I just try playing around up there, but the more I look at it, the tastier it looks. Piece by piece, one leg at a time, the stool is demolished.

The lunch crowd stays later than normal that day, meaning I also spot this small bamboo table. I'm pretty sure you can guess what happens to that.

I should mention that the entire living room had bamboo furniture, and that, coincidentally, there was a traveling acrobatics troupe that drew in more customers than usual to the noodle house. 

So one by one, over the course of an entire day, I eat every single piece of furniture in the living room. Did I mention it was imported? Because it was. 

The dinner crowd finally leaves, my dad comes up to his now empty living room, and sees me passed out in a food coma. I don't think he was too happy about that, but nobody was hurt, outside of a very bad stomach ache I had the day after.

Anyways, I hope things are still going well for you. The new training hall sounds really fun! Let me know how it ends up working!

Love,-

Po stopped, looked over the letter twice, and then furiously dabbed the last word with a towel. The result was a mildly messy splotch where the character used to be. With great care, Po resumed his writing.

Best wishes, Po.

Po breathed a sigh of relief. There. Totally not suspicious. Not that there was anything to be suspicious about. What was there suspicious about signing 'love' in letters addressed to your best friend? Your super very cool, understanding, driven, friend. On second thought, he decided to not pursue this line of thought before he encountered anything too self-reflection-y. 

Content with how his letter turned out, Po rolled it as neatly as he could, and tied it closed with red string. With as much care as he had done anything, he set it by his windowsill, ready for the next opportunity.

Chapter Text

Clothes, Tigress had suddenly decided, had no business being this complicated. 

It was the late morning, not quite afternoon, and she along with Monkey, Mantis, and Viper, were waiting for Crane to pull back the curtain and show them how Viper's newest stroke of inspiration would look. The clothing shop that Viper had chosen to take them all to was an unusually large place with the rather pretentious title of "Madame Ying's House of Cloth Wonders: Silk, Cotton, and Finery of All Kinds Available, deliveries in back." That such a long name even fit on the sign was something of a wonder in and of itself.

Crane stepped uncomfortably out, pastel blue robes swaddling him. He gave a nervous smile and raised one wing to wave.

Monkey, predictably, laughed. "You look-"

A quick swipe of the tail from Viper cut off the remark before it could be born. "You look great, Crane," Viper said approvingly. "You're going to fit right in with the rest of the nobles!"

Crane sighed. "Maybe. I still can't help but feel like this was made to trap me." He gave his robes a loose shake, holding out his wing to display the large amount of excess cloth. "I don't even think the actors wear this much."

Viper shook her head. "Oh they do. Trust me, however uncomfortable you are right now, they'll be wearing much more."

There was a collection of steps as the proprietor of the shop strode into view. "That is because they are not themselves for the performance," she said. The store was run by a short, middle-aged fox with a pair of oversized glasses, and a penchant for grand designs in her own personal wardrobe. Today it was a two-piece ensemble of darkly red shirt and skirt with black swirls running the length. "The same can be said for this garish cotton swab standing before Madame Ying," she said. Among her other foibles, the proprietor also had a tendency to refer to herself in the third person when she felt she had authority. And she always had authority.

"Garish?!" Viper snapped.

Mantis stepped in before the fight could truly begin. "Aren't these all your work," he asked. "I thought you would be more proud of them?"

Madame Ying scoffed, as if the thought were coming from a child and not a practitioner of kung fu. "Oh, believe me, darling, I am. Madame Ying has never made a bad stretch of cloth. On anyone else, these robes would make heads turn and hearts break," she said with relish. Her face was wrapped in imaginary triumph at such an occasion, before moving back to Crane with disappointment. "But on this mass of feathers and fluff before me, they are garish. Clashing. They do not fit."

Viper was still peeved. "We all took measurements before coming here." The rest of the five shivered in recollection of that particular night. "They should fit him just fine."

Madame Ying shook her head. "'Just Fine'? Darling, you are too proud of too little. I am not talking about fitting his scrawny legs, or his delicate beak, or his under-developped flight wings" Crane nearly let out a squawk in offense. Madame Ying looked at him flatly. "Oh shush, I'm getting there. Have faith in Madame Ying, yes?" She pointed again at Viper and gestured at Crane. "No, child, I am not talking about the fit of the body. Hems can be adjusted, belts can be loosened. Of course I make clothes that fit the body, but to truly understand the art of fashion you must make clothes that fit the man. The strong, graceful man. The courageous, humble man that comes to my door even as he's gripped with terror."

Crane gave a more genuine smile. "Thanks. . . I guess. On that note, could I at least get something that I can move around in? Maybe something Manchurian?" 

Viper pulled up short, thoroughly confused. "Wait, Crane are you Manchurian?"

Madame Ying and Crane looked at her blankly, moving gazes to sweep across the rest of the five. "Did none of you notice his/my cue?" They asked at the same time.

Viper's tail smacked her own forehead. "Ugh, I'm such an idiot. Of course the clothes don't fit you, they aren't even your tradition!"

Madame Ying nodded approvingly. "Now you begin to understand. You," she pointed to Crane. "Take off my handiwork and find something else. You'll find Manchu style clothes in the back right of the shop. You," She then pointed to Viper, "go with him, see the metamorphosis for yourself. Find the clothes for the man, and find the man in the clothes."

The curtain drew closed as Crane busied himself, reemerging a few seconds later in more familiar garb, hat included. He and Viper stayed not a second longer, taking off towards the back and right.

Madame Ying smiled proudly to herself as she watched the pair leave. "And now, the transformation begins," She commented. She turned to face the remaining students. "Don't think I have forgotten about you three. You, and you," she pointed to Mantis and Monkey. "Find something sensitive, bright, and tight. Both of you. I must see what doesn't fit before I am to see what does. As for you," She said, pointing to Tigress, "Madame Ying will attend to you myself."

Tigress felt her stomach drop.

Madame Ying turned and marched confidently onward to the left of the store. Tigress, still apprehensive, followed. Madame Ying hummed to herself as she passed dresses and shirts of various make and size. The smaller sizes, more suited to the hares and pigs that made the majority of the valley's population, took up most of the front. The larger sizes suited to animals such as Tigress were planted firmly in the middle. Near the back were clothes made for animals that would dwarf even Tigress. 

She tried to think of what an elephant or gorilla on tour would look like in some form of Chinese finery, but found her imagination lacking.

Tigress was pulled out of her musings as Madame Ying pulled one of the dresses free of its rack. "Lend Madame Ying your arms, yes? I am small, and I shall not drag my creations along the floor like the dirty mop." Ying waited for no answer, and simply flung the piece for Tigress to catch.

Tigress' arms flew out of their own volition, letting the piece neatly fall across them.  Tigress stared at it for a moment, trying to decipher what the cloth was supposed to be before Madame Ying again continued onwards. The process was repeated several times over. By the time Madame Ying was apparently satisfied, the pile of clothes on Tigress' arms was large enough to come to her chin. Tigress silently thanked her training for letting her carry the weight.

Madame Ying and Tigress soon found themselves in from of a door leading to a different room. The proprietress opened the door. "Come, darling, we have much work to do."

Tigress stepped into the room, finding it was not much smaller than her own bedroom back at the Jade Palace. On one wall was a large, mounted mirror. Along the others were benches running almost all the way across.

"This is quite the dressing room," Tigress commented idly as she stepped inside.

"Yes," Madame Ying agreed. "It is where I do some of my best work. I find that models who confront themselves wear things better. And you, my new friend, shall make a fine canvas."

Tigress' eyebrow arched. "So you mean to paint me? I thought you were about letting the customer find what they want."

Madame Ying scoffed. "I am about finding the right fit, darling. I am about finding the person outside and matching that to the person inside. Tell me, do you know with absolute certainty who you are?" Madame Ying leaned in close, like she already knew the answer.

"Well, I. . ." Tigress began. She closed her mouth and sighed. "I have some ideas, but not completely."

Madame Ying nodded. "Good. You are not overly attached to ego. That makes Madame Ying's job just a little bit easier." She then gestured for Tigress to lay the clothes out on one of the benches. As soon as Tigress did, she busied herself sorting through the various styles. Tigress watched in silent fascination as she pulled out outfit after outfit, loosely categorizing them by style. The end result was that the topmost layer across the different piles was filled with blues, and the piles themselves mostly stuck to a single style of clothing.

Madame Ying surveyed her work carefully, before nodding to herself. "Now, I believe this will be a good place to start." She gestured to one of the outfits assembled and flung it once again at Tigress.

Tigress held the mass of blue fabrics out in front of her, unfolding and turning it over. When it was apparent she could not make sense of the mass, Madame Ying scoffed and, without invitation, started lending her aid.

As it turned out, the blue number was actually closer to purple, and it was an ornate, daring piece in the tang style. The dress didn't quite reach her arms, leaving the shoulders and collarbone bare. Tigress froze for a second, feeling the need to cover her upper chest. The feeling was alleviated slightly by Madame Ying handing over the long coat that came with the dress. The sleeves were wide, but the coat itself wasn't meant to close.

"Why don't you take a look at yourself, darling?" Madame Ying suggested.

Tigress did. Her face heated. Despite her misgivings, she could at least admit that the dress fit well. It was. . . flattering.

Madame Ying nodded into the reflection. "Yes, yes, you are a fine young girl. Bold. Daring." She paused. Tigress no longer looked panicked, but the red heat of her face refused to calm down. ". . .Maybe a bit too daring," Madame Ying said after a moment.

Tigress released a breath that she hadn't known she had held. As soon as Madame Ying returned with a different outfit, Tigress wasted no time in discarding the old one.

The next outfit, as it turned out, was a two-piece combination of a dark-blue, floor-length skirt and a pastel, cross collar top that included a white undershirt, both with long sleeves. Tigress found herself testing the movability of the outfit. It wasn't restrictive, but neither was it bult for utility. then again, she reminded herself, she was going to be sitting for extended periods of time.

She ran her paws over the material noting its smooth flow. She caught site of herself in the mirror, and paused in near shock. "I look. . ." she struggled for a word.

"Like a normal girl?" Madame Ying offered.

Tigress felt herself nodding. "I look like an ordinary girl."

"Good, because outside of the massive amount of punching and kicking you do, that's exactly what you are."

Tigress found herself looking at the designer. "How so?"

Madame Ying shrugged. "So you know how to hit a man's solar-plexus to make  him fall down. That doesn't stop you from wanting or enjoying nice things. Allow me to let you in on a secret, darling: 'Ordinary' is a loose term.  The most people use it is by exclusion. Let no one tell you that you are less than ordinary."

Tigress felt her shoulders relax as a smile touched her lips. "Still, I think I should at least be considered an ordinary young woman, at least."

"Pah!" Madame Ying scoffed. "Maybe you are still a little bit old to be a 'girl' but you're not a 'woman' yet! It is a bad sign when kids feel the need to escape their age, Madame Ying tells you!"

Tigress felt a small laugh bubble up and slip past her lips.

Madame Ying's ranting subsided, and she straightened herself. "Before you try another of my outfits, there's one in particular that you must see yourself in."

Tigress raised her eyebrow as Madame Ying pulled out an ornate and long red piece. "Now, before you try this on, know that Madame Ying does not expect you to buy it. You might not even like it, but Madame Ying feels that it is important that you wear it anyways."

Tigress reached for the clothes, paused for a moment, and then grabbed them anyways. It was a small amount of work to undress and redress. Once she had, however, her reflection stole her breath.

"As I said, I don't expect you to need this dress for some years," Madame Ying said. 

"This is. . ." Tigress felt her breath leave her in awe. "This is a wedding dress."

"If Madame Ying has learned one thing, it is this, darling. People are only ever capable of seeing themselves in the now. My job, therefore, is to look beyond, and make certain that what they have will be what they need."

"You think that. . . I'll need a wedding dress?"

"Not for some years, but, maybe. I am no soothsayer, darling, that is not Madame Ying's calling. But I can see into people. And I saw that you needed to see this. I needed to make sure, that you at least know that it is possible. Maybe marriage is a distant prospect right now. Maybe it won't ever happen. But at least you can see that it might happen. That one day, maybe, you will wear a dress like this."

Tigress moved her shoulders and body, making sure that the figure in the mirror was truly real. An odd sense of warmth flooded her chest. This was Tigress. A different Tigress, certainly, but Tigress nonetheless.

"Come darling," Madame Ying called. "I believe that is enough heavy navel-gazing for one day. We have work to do."

Tigress took one last look at the red spirit of summer in the mirror. Maybe, just maybe, she could see her again someday. For now, it was time to continue searching for something fine and fancy. "Yes," Tigress found herself saying. "Let's get to it then."

Chapter Text

After finally sorting through the various colors and styles known to the proprietress, (As well as giving Tigress time to regain her composure) they had finally settled on a pastel blue Ming-style shirt, with a deeper blue embroidered skirt, complete with patterns of golden vines, much like her normal top. In between the two was a contrasting red belt.

Tigress stared at the mirror for a moment. She moved her arms and shoulders, examining both herself and the shirt. It was a strange feeling, observing herself. The clothes didn't seem like they should fit. Tigress was half expecting them to either be so tight as to constrict her breathing or too lose to wear in decent company. She was waiting for something to prove fundamentally incompatible with her. Instead, however. . . 

"I look . . . good," she found herself saying. It wasn't until the words were out of her mouth that she realized that it was the truth. 

Madame Ying nodded from beside her. "Yes. Yes, you realize this now, don't you?"

Tigress felt herself smiling. "I think we've found our opera wear."

Madame Ying chuckled. "Very well then. Come, let us see how your friends fare finding their fit."

Tigress lifted the skirt slightly. "Shouldn't I change back?"

Madame Ying spared her a critical glance. "If you intend for it to be yours, then you must feel it to be yours. The sooner you get used to it, the better you wear it. Now come."

The two stepped out of the changing area and into the shop proper. 

Crane and Viper were the first of the five that they ran into. Crane, as per Madame Ying's suggestion, opted for something more traditionally Manchurian: a smartly fitted shirt and pants the color of faded purple. It formed a nice contrast with his white plumage. Viper, meanwhile, had slunk her way into a red and black flower-patterned qipao, complete with a new parasol.

Viper was currently examining herself in the mirror, shifting her curls back and forth to view the dress in full. "Who is that dangerous, enticing snake in the mirror?" She asked herself dramatically. "I don't know, but she's going to find and lure in her catch!"

Crane tilted his head. "Should I be concerned for whatever pour soul that ends up being?"

Viper shot a smile over her back at him. 'Oh don't you worry, Crane. I don't go after committed people."

Crane let out a sigh. "I keep telling you, it's not like that. Mei Ling is just a good friend."

Crane was spared further defenses as Viper finally caught sight of Tigress and the madame. "Tigress!" Viper gasped. "You look perfect!"

Tigress found her eyes shifting to the side and a heat rising into her cheeks. "Oh please," she said. "It's nice, but. . ."

"No buts!" Madame Ying interrupted. "Do not qualify that statement; else you insult both yourself and Madame Ying! And Madame Ying does not suffer insults!"

Viper nodded her agreement. "She's right, sweetie. You're beautiful! There's no shame in owning up that every once in a while."

Crane gave a sympathetic grimace. "As the residential nervous wreck, it's a lot easier to just say thanks and take the compliment."

Tigress felt her objections die in her throat. ". . . Thank you," she said at least. "You look nice as well."

Viper grinned, and tried to stick a pose in her new wear. "Don't I?" she asked rhetorically. 

Tigress muffled her laugh, but didn't try to hide the smile.

Monkey, having heard the conversation, popped up beside Crane. "Hey guys. Nice suits."

Tigress was about to nod her thanks when she saw what Monkey was wearing. For once in her life, she regretted her sharpness of eyesight. 

Bright. So very bright. Excessively bright. And saturated. And large. And. . .

Viper put name to the most glaring flaw of Monkey's ensemble. "That's. . . a lot of yellow."

Monkey grinned. "I know. I look like an overgrown banana." He spread his arms and moved slightly to demonstrate.

Viper grimaced as the shifting mass of bright colors assaulted her eyes. Among other things, look like an overgrown banana he did. It wasn't quite accurate to say that the robes he chose were big on him. Rather, one should say that he was near-drowning in them. Yellow and brown folds cascaded down his form loosely, to where it pooled at his feet. Atop Monkey's head, as if to top off whatever act he was trying to pull, was an undersized hat that hung more than it sat.

Madame Ying looked him up and down impassively. "Hmmm. Hmmm. It does not fit. Inside nor out. But I can see that you have some use in mind for my creation, so Madame Ying will bear this with dignity."

Monkey grinned at her.

"Madame Ying will, however, be charging extra for the excess."

Monkey's grin fell as he hung his head in defeat.

"Haha," Mantis' voice called. "Serves you right for almost sweeping me away in that thing!"

Mantis' outfit, in all honesty, wasn't too different from Monkey's. The key difference being that his was a more greenish-yellow, and actually fit his size.

Tigress gave the group assembled a glance over. Seeing that they all seemed satisfied with their finery, (if not necessarily Monkey's,) she turned back to Madame Ying. "I believe that's everyone. Would you show us to the check-out?"

"Come" the little fox replied simply.

Sitting on a comically high stool, Madame Ying worked on an abacus until she had the full price of all five outfits.

The price, as it turned out, was both less than expected, and more. The rest of the Five side-eyed Monkey, who could only sweat and grimace as the surcharge for unfitted clothing was added onto the final price.

Coins were counted, and a receipt was written for the sum total of the purchase.

"If you so choose, you may return them to Madame Ying's possession," the fox said levelly. "Bear in mind that you will be disgraced forever and exiled from the premises if you do."

Just as the five made to leave, the door opened again, revealing a familiar green figure ambling in. "Ah, good afternoon, students," Master Oogway greeted. "I see your preparations for the opera are going well."

Tigress smiled. "Good afternoon, Master. We were just about to head back."

Tigress was about to extend her farewells to the kindly, if eccentric fox that ran the store, but stopped as she looked at Madame Ying.

While her eyes were obscured by sudden lens flare, the small, thin frown was unmistakable, as was the clenched and shaking fists just resting on the countertop. "What," she said acidly cool, "is this disgraceful nudist doing in my shop?" 

Master Oogway merely waved politely, seemingly unaware of the aura of menace surrounding her. "Afternoon, Madame Ying. I trust my students' shopping went well under your care."

Madame Ying apparently did not take it as a compliment. She stood on her stool, pointing out the door. "Begone from here, you verdant eyesore!" she all but screeched. "Out of my shop, you overgrown viridescent slug! You. . . you silly silly man!"

Oogway ducked as the abacus sailed over his head. He chuckled, waved goodbye to the amassed students/very angry store manager, and backed out of the door.

As soon as Oogway's shell was no longer visible, Madame Ying sat back down in her stool and opened a fashion scroll. "I believe you should be headed back now as well," she said to her customers, anger completely evaporated.

"Yes," Tigress agreed automatically, still bewildered by the sudden change. "Yes, I think we should. Thank you for your help today, Madame."

"Yes, yes," she said waving. "Madame Ying is a worker of miracles, she is well aware." Tigress was pushing the door open as Madame Ying's voice called again. "And come back again sometime, darlings. Madame Ying enjoys working with talented individuals."

Her normal clothes under one arm, Tigress waved goodbye to the fox and made her way out onto the street. The rest of the Five weren't too far away.

"So," Crane said. "That was certainly. . ." his beak struggled to find words for the sum total of the experience but could find none.

"It certainly was," Monkey laughed. "I don't know what it was, but it was."

"Let's call it a learning experience and leave it at that, shall we?" Viper offered.

Tigress felt herself nodding. 

"What do you guys think the deal between Ying and Oogway is," Mantis asked. "I mean, chefs don't get that angry when you tell them you're not hungry."

A memory of Tigress' popped up unbidden, wherein she had witnessed a group of unruly customers be forcefully ejected from Mr. Ping's noodle shop by way of broom. "Maybe you just haven't met the right chefs," she said mildly. 

The thought of Po seeing her in her current dress then struck her, and for once she was glad that their only contact was by mail. It was a nice dress, she fully admitted that, but being seen wearing it was starting to make Tigress feel. . . prickly. (Had she been taught the harmlessness of being nervous, she might have had a different description.) 

"We should be headed back soon," she said to the others. The sooner she got back home, the sooner she could forget being the Tigress that liked wearing nice things and get back to being the Tigress that liked being practical.

Po was mopping up after the lunch crowd when, humming to himself. After briefly getting stuck between tables five and six, he was able to resume his cleaning. After ensuring that the floors were as spotless as they could be (baring that one stubborn stain that had been caked onto the floor for years now,) Po let the mop stand in the corner as he turned his attention to the streets.

Mr. and Mrs. Chao had once again repainted their front door so that it was now a bright, eye catching, orange. It was spared from being overbearing by the more subdued vine patterns painted on their store's columns.

Mostly people were milling about their day. A group of pigs walked by, discussing the pros and cons of teas. A family of rabbits struggled to keep an eye on their little ones as they rushed ahead to see everything. A boar was pushing what looked like a cart full of scrap metals as a smaller boar walked behind him, clearly bored.

Then Po saw them. 

First, a bright, ugly shade of yellow swamping a familiar monkey. Followed by more smartly dressed figures in purple, green, and red. 

Blue was, in fact, not Po's favorite color. His favorite color changed from green to red to white to that oddly specific shade of purple that one gets from putting in too much red, and all in the span of a week. Blue had made its way into the honored yet quickly changing position of Po's favorite color a few times before, but not quite as often as something more eye-catching like red.

Yet, as Po observed the final figure in the group, blue was a fine color. Blue was especially fine in silk cloth that laid gently against orange and white and black. Po retreated back to the safety of the restaurant's interior courtyard as he felt his face heat.

He wondered if he could get a second look, if only to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

His eyes crept around the doorway and again spotted Tigress in her new dress. A small, bemused smile played on her lips as she listened to Viper tell a story about her ribbon-dancing instructor.

Po intended to take his second look and leave it at that. He would not stare, he reminded himself. Because staring was ungentlemanly, and Po was a gentleman, and gentlemen do not stare at very, very pretty tiger ladies in fine silk Ming dresses.

He stared anyways. Despite his internal mantra of 'Bad Po! Bad!' he stared until his heart was beating so fast he could swear it was going to burst. With a supreme amount of self-discipline, he tores his gaze away and back out into the street.

He closed his eyes and gave a long slow sigh, willing his heart to calm down and the image to leave his mind. His dad's call to prepare the dinner-crowd's broth came as a welcome distraction.

Blue, however, would be his favorite color for several weeks after.

Chapter Text

It was only three days before the opera house opened for the season. Spring had begun to wane before most people knew it. The two masters of the Jade Palace thought it prudent to start the journey early. Two days to make the journey itself, and one more day until the opening to use at the students' discretion. Evidently, the Emperor thought in much the same way, with a carriage and team of helpers coming to assist the residents of the Jade Palace in the long trip.

The sun shone down in bright beams, at times glaring down into the eyes of people walking by. The masters and students all shared one large carriage, pulled by a pair of oxen brothers, and managed by a loose collection of pigs, rabbits, and geese to carry all of the other belongings that could not fit.

Outside of the carriage, yellow-green fields of open country stretched endlessly, ringed by blue mountains. The only scar that this landscape held was the one that was paved. The noises of various insects could be heard buzzing and chirping about in their busiest time of the year.

"Oh yeah," Mantis yelled into the cacophony. "Say that again you tiny grasshopper! I'll mandible your face so hard that you'll be seeing in 720 degrees!"

Tigress rolled her eyes.

"Mantis, you know he didn't mean it," Viper tried to soothe. "It's just swarming season for them, you know how they get."

Mantis shot her a quick glance. "Oh I know how they get alright," he said shortly. "They get rude!" He wasted no further time in description, instead returning his attention back to the windows, where he continued to hurl insult and obscenities to the offending locusts.

Tigress had to hid a chuckle as Monkey mouthed the word 'hypocrite' to her while pointing at the angry green bug.

Feeling the need for a distraction from Mantis' foul mood, she turned to Shifu. "Master, are you sure we need the porters? I'm almost certain that we can do just as well carrying our stuff ourselves."

Shifu hummed in thought. "Now that is an idea-"

"That you should not be giving serious thought," Oogway gently cut him off. "The Emperor was quite generous in sending us help. I would think it would be rude not to accept, wouldn't it?"

Tigress took a moment to eye the unfortunate soul currently carrying what appeared to be Viper's entire wardrobe. "I suppose so," she said after a moment. She winced as the pig collapsed under the combined weight of Viper's collection.

Meanwhile, back in the Valley of Peace, a certain chef was hard at work preparing his latest batch of dough. Humming to himself, Mr. Ping kneaded and spread the soft mushy foodstuff.

"Po!" he called. "The breakfast crowd is almost here! It's time to get up!"

Upstairs, Po jolted mid-snore, instinctually woken by his dad's voice. "What's a nacho?" he asked himself, only half-awake and still remembering his dreams. He was pushed into full alertness when his dad repeated "Po!"

"Coming!" he called, literally rolling out of bed. After the thump of his mass hitting the floor and the mad scramble of finding pants, he rushed down the stairs step after step after head. Predictably, as it had almost always happened early in the morning, he rolled down the last flight.

"Hmm, you made it past the second floor that time," Mr. Ping idly commented.

Po picked himself up to near-full height and made his way to the kitchen. "Sorry I'm late," he said.

"Luckily, you're not late yet," Mr. Ping said. "Now help chop those vegetables." Po busied himself as Mr. Ping continued stretching out the dough. "I heard you making some odd noises last night. Was it a dream?"

Po nodded. "Yeah. A really weird one too. I think I was in this, like, fighting competition? Except it wasn't Kung Fu, it was more like. . . aggressive grappling. I had a mask and a cape too. There was also this really raggedy skinny guy who was my sidekick. You ever have dreams like that?"

Mr. Ping hummed in thought for a moment. "Well, there is one where I'm an all-powerful sorcerer cursed to never touch the mortal realm, and willing to sacrifice anything to achieve solid form once again."

Po spared his dad a concerned glance.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Mr. Ping said.

They were saved further discussion on the importance and significance of dreams by a rabbit wearing glasses calling from the archway. "Delivery for a Mr. Ping?"

Mr. Ping set aside his now stringy dough and turned to the deliveryman. "Ah, that would be me."

The rabbit dropped the box directly on the counter, and left after gaining Mr. Ping's signature. Po eyed the package carefully. "This. . . wouldn't happen to be about a certain red panda we know, right?"

Mr. Ping scoffed. "Oh, no, nothing that would humiliate that spiteful little raccoon. This is just for the business." He undid the top of the box, taking out a stack of papers. "Here," he said, handing one of them to his son.

Po inspected what he now realized was a poster. On it was a stylized representation of a goose proudly holding a bowl of noodles victoriously above his head. Directly across from him was a mahjong table and a red panda that could only be assumed to be the loser of this specific match. Po read aloud. "Ping Dynasty Noodle House's Grand Mahjong Tourney. Come and play your way through the brackets to face the owner of the Ping Dynasty Noodle House. Free meal for the winner. No purchase necessary, children must ask parents before registering." Po blinked. "Huh."

"Pretty good deal, right?" Mr. Ping asked. "We hold an event like this, and people will come to this place from all over."

Po felt himself nodding. "Makes sense. And you totally didn't use the Jade Palace's master's likeness for this, right? This isn't, like, a secret challenge to Shifu so you can school him in mahjong, right?"

"Of course not," Mr. Ping said. "That is a legally distinct, entirely fictitious rodent who's currently having his dreams crushed. Complete coincidence. Any resemblance to that hateful old man is entirely on accident."

'Oh sure," Po said, neither confirming nor denying his father's poorly disguised challenge. 

Mr. Ping then handed the box to Po, along with a bucket of glue and paint. "I need you to spread these over the valley. Make sure you put them in places where people will see them. The more crowded, the better."

Po took the items, carefully trying to balance the box in one hand while the bucket was held in the other. He hurried to move out of the door, bumping his forehead squarely on its top rim. 

After a wince shared between the Pings, Po ducked under the rim and made his way out into the open streets.

Mr. Ping looked up at the rafters of his shop. "Hmmm. I should get higher roofs."

"Look at this, Bian Zao," Toatie said, gesturing to a freshly glued poster. It stood right next the wanted poster depicting a masked figure in black with a large sword, and a missing persons notice regarding a large bison with an arrow patterned on his fur. "Free meals for the winner! What do you think? We could save a lot of our budget if we can cut meals out of it." It went without saying that their budget wasn't much to begin with, and that an already disproportionate amount of it went to mechanical parts.

Bian Zao carefully looked over the poster, humming in thought. Taotie observed his son turn the prospect over in his head. For the briefest moments, Taotie dared to get his hopes up. Would this be it? Would this finally be the day that his son showed the slightest interest in something? Would this finally be the moment where Bian Zao admitted something other than complete boredom? After years, would this be the day that Bian Zao finally, finally, developed a hobby?

Bian Zao drew a breath as he finished his rumination, while Taotie held his. His son stared him directly in the eyes. After a near eternity, he finally spoke. ". . . Lame."

The summer sun burned down still, even past what would be considered afternoon in the winter. The effect of this was a tiring, humid afternoon. The porters and drivers had taken to singing of their loves in order to pass the time. Some of the lyrics Tigress found charming in an innocent, earnest way. Some were clearly the product of tired minds struggling to put words together. Most, however, were bawdy, ribald, and severely testing Tigress' self control. Not helping matters was the cramped, still space the carriage interior had become.

Mantis, having yelled his lungs past their maximum capacity, passed out several hours ago. Oogway had followed his example not too long after, peacefully closing his eyes while retreating into his shell. Viper curled up next, dooming Tigress to immobility as she used her friend as a heated pad.

Crane, Tigress Knew, had also elected to nap, but had been able to retreat to the top of the carriage to do so. Tigress envied him more than anything else right then. Tigress felt like she knew what going stir-crazy was like. After the month she had to spend coalescing from the cut, she had felt herself a near expert on the subject. She would have written a dissertation on it if it would have given her something to do.

This however, was something else entirely. Her knees felt stiff and cramped from sitting so long, her tail was sore from the pinch of the seats. Her paws resolutely by her sides, she had to slide and sheath her claws just so that they could feel the slightest exercise.

Monkey hid a chuckle behind his fist at her predicament. "You know you could just move her off of you, right?" he stage-whispered to her.

Tigress's gaze slid back down to the mass of green coils in her lap. "No I can't," she answered bluntly.

Monkey shrugged, still amused, before he turned to Shifu.

Shifu was currently sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, and mind presumably turned to the mysteries of Inner Peace.

"Are we there yet?" Monkey asked.

Tigress shot him a murderous glance as Shifu gave a weary sigh.

"No," Shifu said, not opening his eyes.

Monkey shot her a glance. Tigress shook her head.

"How about now? Are we there yet?"

Shifu drew a deep breath. "No, we are not there yet."

Monkey waited. More accurately, he waited five minutes before again yet again, "Are we there yet."

Shifu finally opened his eyes to glare at Monkey. "No. And the next time someone asks, they're getting out and walking for the rest of the day.

Monkey shot Tigress a daring, conspiratorial glance. Normally she would have stopped Monkey before he went to far, especially when he tried to rope her into his antics. Today, however, with stiff joints and aching bones, she could have hugged him.

Tigress halted at her own thoughts. Was she really about to go along with Monkey's antics just to have a socially acceptable excuse to walk out of the carriage? She felt Viper readjust her length and settle deeper into sleep.

Tigress drew in a breath.

Suddenly, the carriage jerked sharply upward, drawing a mix of yelps and a squawk from the students and masters using it. Tigress' eyes shot wide as she clawed for support.

"Sorry about that," one of the oxen brothers called. "Pothole," the other said by way of explanation.

There was a collection of grumbles as everybody settled once again, those who had been asleep suddenly awoken.

In the handful of moments it took Tigress to come out of fight-or-flight instincts, it was too late, Viper had once again started to curl up. She silently pleaded with her non-existent ancestors and kung fu masters since passed to please, please not let her friend fall asleep on her lap again. A single deep breath from the snake sealed her fate.

Tigress nearly despaired before she remembered. Monkey's prodding was still fresh. She still had a chance to get kicked out and do something.

Oogway's head stretched out of his shell as he slowly blinked. "Are we there yet?" he asked sleepily.

Shifu's cry of deep frustration matched the sound in Tigress's heart.

Chapter Text

The company stopped to rest at a town about halfway to the capital, though Tigress hadn't caught its name.  As the rolling came to a stop and doors were opened in polite manner, Tigress stepped down from the box wondering how doing nothing could leave someone so exhausted.

She only stepped about halfway out of the street before the need to stretch overrode conscious thought. With a slight wince from soreness, she made lunges with both of her legs until she heard them pop. The relief that flooded her was instant. Continuing her stretches, she noticed the rest of her companions exiting the carriage.

Crane, having never returned to the inside after his afternoon snooze, simply jumped down from the roof with a small fluttering of wings. Mantis hopped out next, seemingly unfazed by the long stretch of monotony. Viper slunk out, twisting her neck, but otherwise in good spirits.

Tigress watched as Monkey had to nearly drag himself out and across the street. She killed her smirk before it could be noticed, but kept the sense of karmic satisfaction. It was onnly right after he had tried to sing 'The Song that Never Ends.'

Shifu stepped out last, seemingly no worse for wear. Tigress did spot hints of tiredness, however, in the way his ears drooped.

Briefly she wondered where Oogway was, before remembering the lucky tortoise's 'sentencing' to walk the rest of the way.

"Ah," a voice remarked from exactly two steps behind her. "So this is the inn that we're staying at."

Ignoring the fact that she jumped like a grasshopper, Tigress glared as soon as she recognized the voice. "Master, could you please stop doing that?"

Oogway gave her a smile. "Who would keep you on your toes then, hmm?"

The Long Lao Inn and Tavern was more spacious than it appeared. Red-painted upholstery girded the building's walls, while sturdy wooden floors rested atop the foundation. The students and teachers were greeted by an energetic cat in bright red, who quickly introduced herself as Shanshan. After the five were properly seated, menus were passed out and Shanshan subsequently excused herself, but not before sending a wink to the collected group.

"She seems nice," Viper commented. Tigress merely hummed in acknowledgement, looking over the menu.

"You think if I asked, she'd go out with me?" Monkey asked the group.

"In the state you're in? Fat chance," Mantis said bluntly. "You can barely walk without your bones popping, you think you'd be able to take her on a date?"

Monkey smirked. "Dare me."

"Do not," Tigress cut in. "He doesn't need that kind of encouragement."

"Too late," Monkey said. "I just dared myself!"

Oogway, from the second table set aside for the masters, looked on in mild amusement. "You're student is about to cause trouble," he said without reproach.

Shifu's ears twitched. "He always does."

"Are you going to stop him?"

Shifu gave the swaggering Monkey a glance. Seeing his inevitable fate, Shifu merely turned back to the menu. "He could use a little humility."

Crane and Mantis were still busy consoling Monkey in the next room over by the time the lanterns were dimmed. They weren't doing a very good job at it, coming from the gross sobs audible even through the walls. Tigress even pitied the poor man. 

Or she would have, if his cries weren't currently preventing her from some much-needed peace and quiet. Even Viper's sympathies were beginning to be stretched past their limit. "Is he seriously still going at it?" she asked from underneath her pillow.

Tigress, who had been trying to lie down on her front, gave a frustrated sigh. She pushed herself up and knocked on the wall. "Just knock him out and get it over with!" she called. She held her ear to the wall, picking up a panicked shout, a dull thud, and after a few moments of silence, a deep snore. "Thank you."

Viper soon settled back into the nook of her bed. "Seriously. I could understand if it was someone he knew, but he just met her tonight."

Tigress raised an eyebrow. "Really? I figured if there was anyone who could believe in love at first sight, it would be you." Tigress bit her tongue. "That. . . wasn't meant to sound harsh."

Viper merely shook her head. "No, I get it. Believe me, I'm always looking for good matches, but true love doesn't just come by every day. That's what makes it so magical! Would be a lot easier if it did, though."

Tigress had the sense of a story behind that last statement. "Relationship issues in the past?"

Viper shook her head. "Not me personally, but my oldest sister had her first fiance slither out on her.  Luckily she was able to find someone better for her, but not until the guy got a taste of snake justice."

Tigress felt it would be better not to ask what 'snake justice' entailed.

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Any relationships in your past? Any tragically short but achingly beautiful loves? Any lone wandering warrior that was strong enough to punch down the walls of your heart?" She asked with artistic flourish.

Tigress chuckled. "The only experience I have is when I was five, and a younger rabbit tried to impress me by showing off how many flowers he could eat at the same time."

Viper shared her amusement. "Funny how kids try to make friends isn't it? One time when I was little I had a boy come up to me and ask if he could see my mouth?"

"What?"

Viper smiled. "See, I was born without fangs, but my father was famous for his. The kid wanted to make sure that he heard right. He was a cat. As it turns out, he didn't have any claws. Something he got from his mom's side of the family, he told me."

Tigress hummed. "Seems like a nice boy."

Viper nodded. "Yeah. He and his family moved not long after that, but I liked him well enough while he was around."

Their conversation seemingly over, the both of them settled into their mattresses. Tigress lightly closed her eyes, waiting for Viper to shuffle into a comfortable position. Once she was confident that Viper was truly asleep, Tigress opened her eyes again.

Making only the barest of sounds, she fished through a sack by her bed until she found what she was looking for. A slightly crumpled roll of paper was drawn out of the bag. She unfolded it with reverence.

Hey Tigress,

I don't know if my dad has some new recipe that's making my stomach act up or something else, but for whatever reason I've been having a lot of weird dreams lately. They're really clear, but also pretty bizarre. There's one where I'm twice my age, drunk, and teaching kids to play really aggressive music. There's also one where I'm underwater and being beat up by an oddly handsome and charismatic fish. There's also also one where I'm a big lizard, and I'm being beat up by two hairy dudes in weird pants and hats. There's even one where a teenage girl is using my body to run through a deep jungle. Have you ever had weird dreams like that?

Truth be told, Tigress had planned on replying to the letter earlier. This trip, while expected, had come sooner than she had anticipated. That had thrown a wrench into the plan, but she was at least able to make the time now.

Rolling out her own paper and carefully uncorking an ink bottle, she set to work penning her own experiences with odd dreams.

The first one that came to mind was one that she had first had some two months after meeting Po. In it, she was an age old warrior, blessed and cursed with immortality. By her side was a collection of other immortals, but most importantly a large man of bearded appearance. The dream had only spent some time on adventures and daring do, with most of her mind's focus being on what came after. When the world had no need of them any longer both herself and the bearded man retired to an out-of-the-way hut, where he would cook for the two of them and their extended family.

Tigress paused at her description. Their family. Not hers and his, their family. Because it was just the two of them. Just her and the big, slightly goofy cook, living together. Alone. Just the two of them. Forever.

Tigress let out a humorless, short laugh on reflex. It was the type of sound one makes in the face of challenging thoughts. "Heh. Heh-heh." With a face that burned brighter than the sun, she crumpled her draft. On second thought, perhaps telling Po about that dream would be a mistake. Yes, she would tell him about the evil winged queen of the forest dream instead. That was much safer.

The next morning came early and achingly, with Tigress' joints still feeling their strain. Monkey came out of the inn nursing a new bruise at the base of his neck. Viper at least seemed refreshed.

Shifu shuffled in, looking more like a dead rat than a kung fu master, meanwhile Oogway ambled in afterward looking just as lively as he ever did. They assembled for a quick breakfast of bao buns, served with a piping cup of oolong tea each. Shifu gradually came back to life as the mild caffeine of the tea did its work, in a process not too different from blowing up a balloon.

They barely had time to make conversation before their transporters arrived, once again ready to carry them to the capital. Tigress soon noticed something different, however. A second carriage pulled up directly behind theirs, similarly constructed but with more ornate markings.

"Why have we stopped?" A somewhat familiar voice asked. From the second carriage a long neck poked out, revealing the spitting image of Mr. Ping. "I was told there was to be no delay in my return!"

Oogway waved politely. "Ah, good morning, Advisor. I am sorry to impose upon you, but would you happen to have room in your carriage for a few extra passengers?"

"Master Oogway," the goose said with little warmth. "What business could you possibly have in the capitol?"

Master Oogway pulled up in surprise. "Why, did the Emperor not tell you to expect guests?" Oogway chuckled to himself. "Seems like his memory is as evasive as ever."

The goose squawked in outrage. "I will not stand for you bad-mouthing the Emperor! Even if you had been guests, I'm certain that he would not welcome you to his home now."

Shifu spoke up, hand held out calmingly. "Forgive my master, honorable advisor. He is wise, but very loose with his words. It has already been a long trip, and it is likely to be longer still. If you would be so kind as to lend us your space, I am certain that it would go a long way to help ease the burden on all of us."

The goose hummed in thought. "Incidentally," Tigress interjected, "Would you happen to be related to a Mr. Ping in the Valley of Peace?"

The goose stared blankly at her. "My name is Ping Zhou. Are you familiar with my cousin?"

Tigress nodded. "He runs a noodle shop down in the valley with his son."

"Then you would know that we don't talk," Ping Zhou snapped.

"Ah," Tigress said simply.

"Well then," Shifu said amusedly. "That would give us something in common."

Tigress and Oogway both eyed Shifu with concern; concern that was shifted as Ping Zhou once again hummed in thought. After a long moment, the goose's head retreated back into the carriage, and the doors opened. "Upon reflection," the goose said grandiosely, "the easiest way to confirm your legitimacy is to take you to the capitol myself. You may fill me in on any needed background along the way."

Shifu smiled and shuffled inside, quietly chuckling to himself in a manner Tigress found unnerving. Oogway ambled up to the carriage's stairs and gestured. "Would you care to ride with us, Tigress?"

Tigress peered inside, and already Ping Zhou and Shifu were chatting away in hushed tones. Suppressing a shudder, Tigress stepped back. "I think I'll take my chances with the other students."

They both looked over to the other carriage, where Mantis, Viper, and Crane where putting their combined weight on Monkey, who braced himself against the doorway. Oogway leveled his stare back to Tigress in a silent question. Tigress grimaced, but squared her shoulders and added her weight to the pile. As Monkey's block failed and they all tumbled in, Oogway shrugged and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Tigress, after a long ride through China's greatest sights, was ready to move. The boon of extra leg space and elbow room was appreciated, but it only put a bandage on the problem. The fact of the matter was that sitting still for extended periods of time while only being able to listen to road trip songs was, simply put, not fun.

Evidently, this experience was not universal. Just as Tigress rolled her head to feel the satisfying pop of her neck, the other carriage, the one belonging to the advisor Ping Zhou, stopped. As soon as the doors were opened, both Ping Zhou and Master Shifu walked down, still in conversation, and laughing uproariously. Tigress stared at them as they passed, unable to stop the shiver running up her spine.

She turned back to the carriages to see the other students similarly stretching. Oogway, on the other hand, crawled out of his ride like something dead and beaten. "Tigress," he said wearily, "the next time you have the opportunity to travel between two people who hate the same way, refuse."

Tigress would not laugh. She would not. Because laughing would be disrespectful to her grand-master. And Tigress was not disrespectful. All the same she had to hide her mouth behind a paw to not break polite manners.

"I am," she began shakingly. She coughed into her fist twice and banged her chest before she felt she could continue safely. "I am sorry for your discomfort, Master Oogway."

Master Oogway looked her up and down before shooting a knowing, mischievous smile. "Are you really?" he asked.

Tigress looked away as a chuckle escaped her. "Maybe not as sorry as I should be."

Oogway laughed. "I fear that too much time spent in hate has made me weary. I'll be leaving you all to reacquaint myself with an old friend. I feel the need for more pleasant company."

Tigress raised one brow. "An old friend like Madame Ying?"

Oogway smiled and shook his head. "No, this one actually enjoys my company. He runs a tea shop in the inner quarter. If you have need of me, send for the Jasmine Dragon tea house. I'll probably be playing checkers there."

"Shouldn't you at least wait until we know where we're staying?"

Oogway ambled away, waving away her concerns. "If I know the emperor as well as I think, I know where he'll be housing us for our stay."

Ping Zhou's head swiveled to follow the old turtle. "Where is he going?" he asked with mild curiosity.

"To meet an old friend, apparently," Tigress answered.

Ping Zhou shook his head, then straightened himself. "Well he'd better know where he's going. I will not be held responsible if he gets lost."

"My master is not one to wander off without purpose," Shifu said. "He'll be back, I assure you."

Ping Zhou gave it a moment of thought before shrugging. "Well, as long as someone can retrieve him, it should be fine. Come along all, I will show you to your rooms. Only the finest accommodations in Nanjing will do for the emperor's guests!"

The advisor walked onward with effortless confidence, not even looking back at the mass of martial artists as they followed.

The goose led them across the streets, each with enough lanterns to make the night seem alive. Even despite the dark, people were still milling about. Tigress nearly tripped over a collection of kids, all chasing one who held a kite. Viper gave a friendly smile when a pig from one of the shops waved. Another pair of a dog and a cat were arguing loudly over the correct prices of cotton.

It was almost wholly unfamiliar to Tigress. Navigating crowds was nothing new, but normally that was only reserved for day time and holidays. That so many people could live in a single place, and still have business into the late night was baffling.

"Move along," Ping Zhou called. "You'll have all night and tomorrow to explore the city to your liking once we get to your lodgings, but we do have to get there." How the advisor was able to keep track of them without looking at them, Tigress could not say.

Red seemed to be the color of choice. Red wood mixed with the occasional brown and white, giving a vividness to the streets. The further they walked, the more painted walls appeared, depicting mighty dragons and awe-inspiring gods. It seemed to Tigress that the wealth of someone could be measured in how many colors they had in their walls.

The residents also seemed to follow this trend. Long, vibrant robes belonged to many of them, some of which touched the floor as they walked by. Tigress briefly felt the need to watch her step after nearly tripping over one pig's excessively long trail.

Tigress caught the eyes of a pair of rabbits wearing the type of daring, fancy, collar-exposing dress that she had briefly seen among Madame Ying's collection. They gave her a quick glance up and down, and a derisive scoff at her outfit. Tigress herself replied with an indignant huff. She waited until the stared at her face, and then pointedly turned her gaze away from them.

Ping Zhou perked up as they rounded the corner. "Oh, look, one of our city's famous landmarks: the Jubao Gate!" In the dark it was hard to make out, but its size certainly seemed impressive. At the top of a hill a stone gate topped by a pagoda roof stood between the city and the wilderness. A long straight road stretched up to the gate's mouth.

"An impressive defense," Shifu remarked.

"Indeed," Ping Zhou said. "With a full company of weapons and soldiers, this gate could stand five hundred years or more."

"Has it ever seen real combat?" Shifu asked mildly.

"Well. . . admittedly, no."

"Hmm."

Ping Zhou gave an awkward honking cough into his wing before waving his guest forward again. "Come, come, I'm sure you'd all appreciate getting to your quarters after such a long journey. I'll see you all settled soon!"

With that said he waddled ahead hurriedly. Tigress felt somewhat pressed to keep her eye trained on the goose in the twists and turns of Nanjing. Simultaneously unimpressed by the goose's attempts at retreat and impressed at the speed at which he did it, it was something of a surprise when they finally stopped in front of a large, multi-stored inn with green and yellow trimmings.

Ping Zhou pushed the doors open wide as they stepped in. "Welcome," he said, "to the Jade Castle!"

Tigress and Shifu shared a single, silent glance.

The inside was just as ornate as the outside, with an abundance of lanterns and some expensive landscape paintings adorning the walls. The wooden floors were polished to a shine. Even Tigress' steps hardly seemed to leave any dirt. Ping Zhou was already talking to the rabbit at the reception desk by the time she finished looking around.

Ping Zhou turned back to his guests beaming with pride and holding a clutter of objects. After a short hike through some oddly fancy stairs, they arrived at a spacious room on the second floor. "I'm told that each floor has their own commons area, so that guests can enjoy their time without disturbing anyone else."

He then deposited his cluster onto a small table. "Here are your room keys, a map of Nanjing for your personal use, and a bill of the opera available. Your luggage will be up shortly for you to sort as needed. I must insist, however, that the rooms not be co-ed. There have been just a few too many incidents otherwise."

Shifu nodded. "I assure you, we will be the image of propriety."

Apparently satisfied, Ping Zhou drew himself up and bowed. "Then in that case, I will leave you to get settled. I must be off now, a councilor's work is never done, as they say."

Tigress watched the diminutive bird pad away before turning her attention to the bill. They were divided by regional category, with Peking and Yue being the largest categories.  "'The Drunken Concubine?'" she read aloud in confusion.

Viper soon appeared over her shoulder. "Oh, I remember hearing about that one. It's a comedy about a concubine being stood up by the then-current emperor."

Tigress chuffed. "I'm surprised the now-current emperor would allow such a play in his theater."

Shifu hummed. "One of Oogway's first lessons; there is wisdom in accepting one's faults."

It took most of Tigress' self control to stay silent. Returning to the bill, she continued to read off operas. 'The Heavenly Maid and the Mortal."

Viper perked up. "You think it has any relation to Houyi and Cheng'e?"

Tigress quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"

"You've never heard that story?" Monkey asked.

Tigress shook her head. "I'm afraid not. What is it about?" She held up a finger as Monkey grinned. "And don't say 'It's about Houyi and Cheng'e'."

Monkey deflated as Crane cleared his throat. "It's about the moon goddess, and how she was at one point a mortal. She was married to a builder named Houyi."

"Wait, I thought Houyi was an archer?" Viper said.

Monkey shook his head. "I always heard he was a carpenter."

"No, no," Mantis chimed in. "He was a chemist. The whole 'Elixir of Immortality' business went down because he invented it."

Shifu cleared his throat, and all the students turned to him. He inspected his flute. "There are many versions of the story, with their own interpretations. The end result is always the same however. In the end, he is mortal, and she is not." Shifu gazed at them from over his instrument. "If you would like, I would be happy to tell you the version of the story that I grew up with."

Tigress was silent for a moment, staring in shocked curiosity. "That. . . sounds like a nice idea," she offered mildly.

Shifu nodded, and held the flute gently to his lips.

A piping hot cup of jasmine tea was poured into a plain cup with a green band around the rim. The server, a rounded, aged boar of stout yet sturdy build sat himself across the table. He was mostly hairless on top, but wore a full and well-groomed beard. His uniform was a pleasing and disarming array of green and white.

Oogway savored the tea's warmth and scent before taking a careful sip. "As always, my friend, your tea is as carefully balanced as a fine table."

The boar nodded gratefully. "And as always, your praise means a great deal to me." He then grinned and gestured at the checker-patterned table. "But if you think you can distract me with flattery, then you have another thing coming!" The boar then took up a circular tile emblazoned with a white flower and set it in the center of the table.

Oogway smiled lopsidedly. "The White Lotus gambit? Quite the opening gamble, isn't it?"

The boar huffed. "Of course! You know me well enough by now. Have I ever shied away from hard decisions."

Oogway chuckled, before his smile fell. "I can only assume you face one now." He then placed a tile, this one with a stylized boat.

"Not me, no." The boar shook his head. "But my nephew on the other hand, he is facing a great trial. He chases after what he wants with a singular focus and drive that cannot be stopped."

Oogway hummed as the boar placed down a jade tile. "You worry that what he wants and what he needs are two different things."

"He has been chasing honor for so long. By the time he attains it, he will no longer be the person that needs it."

"That's the true problem with honor," Oogway commented idly, as he checked his opponent. "It can never truly be attained. Or awarded. Or earned. Either it exists inside you, or it doesn't."

The boar nodded. "Honor can only ever be recognized. In truth, it's not honor he seeks, but recognition. It pains me that he must earn such."

Oogway nodded, momentarily overwhelmed by bittersweet memory. "If your nephew truly is an honorable soul, then he will find what he needs in time. You have seen him grow too much to do otherwise." The two shared a smile, content. Oogway then grinned again, indicating the now locked game board. "In the meantime, I believe I'm about to win."

Chapter Text

Sun shone down brightly, coating everything in golden light. The sky had naught but a few scant clouds to break up the wide blue. Even in the capital, it was the picture of a perfectly peaceful morning. Inside one particular building, however, was a different story.

"Gentlemen," the tall, deep-voiced rhinoceros said. "I've called you all here today to inform you of a great and present danger." His uniform was immaculate today. It had been beaten like a throw rug, washed, dried, finely combed, pressed, folded, unfolded, refolded, subjected to rigorous peer review, and finally sprayed with just a hint of lemon zest (for formal occasions). It ensured that everyone knew exactly how seriously he took his job.

"You may think that we are at peace," he continued, "that there is nothing that can pose any vital threat to our territory." His men were all standing lined up, perfectly straight-backed. Even through the pride at training such fine guardsmen, he retained his serious demeanor, staring them directly in the eyes. "This is incorrect. For today we face a different enemy, one that disguises itself as a friend." He pointed to the gates of the theater. "In a few hours, the emperor's guests will be here, seeming to want nothing more humble than to enjoy fine opera. For at least some of them, this is a facade. Their actual intent, is to sow discord and undermine authority."

The guard captain gestured to a sign, hanging above the entrance. "That right there is sacred law. We uphold it, to prevent ruin and catastrophe from befalling our economy, and by extension, our very way of life. No one, and I repeat, no one, is above scrutiny. Am I clear?"

"SIR YES SIR!" The guards chanted in unison.

"Dismissed," the perfectly dressed captain said. As his guards dispersed, he gazed at the sign above the entrance, letting its law fill him with near-divine purpose.

"No Outside Food Permitted," it read.

Tigress looked up and down Monkey's gaudy robes, wishing she were looking at anything else. "I still don't know why exactly you thought buying that was a good idea."

Monkey swung his arms back and forth. The hemming Madame Ying had provided before their trip had made the outfit more passable, but the excess still looked large enough to house Mantis' entire family. "Trust me," Monkey said, grinning, "you'll wish you bought one of these too before we're done."

Tigress had to suppress a shiver. She could count the number of times Monkey had said the words 'trust me' and not end in disaster on precisely none of her fingers.

Viper soon came out into the common area, proudly wearing the black-and-rose pattern qipao. Tigress had to admit, she owned her look. Viper caught Tigress eye and smiled. "Oh you look perfect!" Viper exclaimed. Tigress smiled. On impulse she held out her arms, showing the dress in full. Viper inspected the ensemble with a critical eye. "I think I can help out with a few more touches," she said after a full examination.

Tigress shivered in memory of the last time Viper had offered fashion advice, but forced a smile anyways. "Just a few?" she asked hopefully.

Viper grinned. "Trust me, with just a little touching up, everybody will wish they were you."

Tigress shot Monkey a frozen grimace as she was led away.

Viper, for what it was worth, kept true to her word. Cosmetics were only applied lightly, adding a bit more shadow to her eyes and a bit more brightness to her cheeks. Her sash, the red string holding the dress together, however, was a different story altogether. Tying a sash sounded simple enough in Tigress' mind: just make a knot. As Viper proceeded to demonstrate, this was wrong. Tying a sash was not a simple matter of looping fabric through fabric, but a labyrinthine mess of tangles designed specifically to spite Tigress.

Still, with her outfit now neatly and smartly fitted, and cheeks bright from both cosmetics and blood rushing to them, she stepped out of the room once again, Viper proudly leading the way as if showing off her greatest art.

By then the rest of the visitors had also finished their preparations. Crane continued to wear his Manchu shirt and pants. Tigress took a moment to recognize him, and a moment longer to realize it was because he wasn't wearing his hat. Crane noticed stares of both her and Viper, and gave her one of his nervous smiles.

"So that's what the top of your head looks like," Viper commented idly.

"Yeah, I kinda feel naked without it," Crane said picking at his beak. Tigress slyly smiled as Viper's cheeks went red from the remark. Crane continued, not noticing. "But we came here to be fancy and formal so. . ." Crane spread his wings, gesturing at himself, "this is me, formal and fancy."

"Oh, you're just fine," Mantis said, hoping into view. "Now me on the other hand, I can't even move in this thing." Mantis' suit, likewise, had been hemmed by Madame Ying. The trouble was that she could not do such small work entirely by herself and had to rely on an insect associate by the name of Hualie. The end result was a suit that, while smartly made at first, had been stitched into a hackney of clothing one singular size too small.

Tigress let the conversation drift away from her as she eyed the last two visitors as they walked into view. Shifu's clothes were truthfully not all that different from what he normally wore. The main difference Tigress could spot was the addition of a blue coat. Oogway, as far as she could tell, didn't even bother, still wearing no pants.

"Good morning students," Oogway greeted amiably.

"Students," Shifu siad, more curt. He gave each of them a quick critical glance. "You all look fine today. I trust we are ready?"

He received mixed amounts of enthusiasm, but mostly affirmatives. Viper however, raised her tail. "Master Oogway are you not going to. . . cover up, at all? I feel like people won't take too kindly to you not wearing any pants."

Oogway merely laughed and strung out the cloth that he normally wore. "Nonsense, I put on my good cape today!" Oogway held it stretched right under Shifu's nose. "What do you think, my friend? Is this enough to pass by the capital's fashion critics?"

Master Shifu silently stared at it for a moment, before looking back at Oogway. "It is a very nice cape," he conceded.

"It got a compliment out of Shifu," Monkey said. "Good enough for me!"

The titular Peach Garden that gave the Sons of the Peach Garden their name was far larger than Tigress expected. Also more tightly guarded, and far more populous. Vendor's hawked their wares across the edges of the garden, calling to any that wanted snacks. The noodles did indeed look fine, but the prices on display were the exact opposite.

As fro the garden itself, while the staring rhinos on guard made it difficult to enjoy fully, it was lush and carefully cultivated. No fruit yet hung on the trees, or maybe had already been picked, but the color of the blossoms painted the upper levels of the garden a brilliant green.

Making her way across one of the spaces between the rows of trees, Tigress observed the crowd. Most of the gardens patrons, as far as she could observe, were nobility or important families of some sort. More than once, her eyes caught on a couple being chaperoned by at least one of their parents.

Briefly, Tigress wondered if Shifu would do the same if she ever found someone. A shudder went through her at the thought. On second thought, it might be have been a good thing that Po annd Shifu had never met; there was no world where that meeting went well. Her idle smile vanished as she wondered where on Earth his name had come from.

She was spared from further musings as a voice called from behind her. "I don't recall seeing you here before."

Tigress turned slightly. Behind her was a tall, darkly-suited tiger. He had the advantage of size over her, but not much else. He seemed, in honest comparison, more skin and bone than muscle. "You wouldn't," Tigress said. "This is my first visit."

The tiger leaned onto a nearby tree, propped up by his arm. "The first of many, I hope." He gave a short bow. "Lu Fei, at your service."

Tigress gave a polite, if not particularly warm, smile. "Tigress, at yours."

"So, what brings a lovely young lady such as yourself to this place."

"Invitations, mostly."

Lu Fei gave a thoughtful, appreciative hum. "You must be someone important then. Here to meet some potential business partners? You know, my father is quite influential in the army. I would be more than happy to put in a good word on your family's behalf." Tigress felt Lu Fei's eyes rake across her, and shivered.

"Appreciated," Tigress said stiffly. "But unnecessary."

Lu Fei's eyes darkened for a moment. "Then perhaps I could interest you in a more personal way?"

Tigress felt her claws unsheathe themselves. "Are you. . . trying to court me?" She paused as she huffed out a breath. "I'm afraid your out of luck there. I'm already spoken for." The lie came out of her lips sooner than she could think about it. Before she could backpedal or think about how to make it more convincing, Lu Fei continued.

"'Court' is such a formal word," he said shrugging. "There need not be anything so binding between us. Besides, I'm certain a fine young woman such as yourself receives many such offers. Betrothals can always be rearranged, you know."

Tigress opened her mouth to respond, caught between telling him to find another person to bother or warn him about her very sharp claws, before a loud throat-clearing cough caught her attention.

There, just behind and to her left, stood master Shifu. "Young man," he said politely, but stone cold. "I believe my student has humored you for long enough. If you have anything further to discuss with her, I suggest you discuss it with me."

Lu Fei went stiff, and Tigress felt he would have shrunk if her were able. He gave one last glance at her and bowed to the both of them individually. "Another time, then."

Tigress watched his retreating back until he was out of sight, before letting out a sigh of relief. She looked at her master. "Thank you."

Shifu nodded. "Come," he said simply. "Let's enjoy some music."

Tigress felt herself nodding. "Yes," she agreed, "Let's."

"Captain Bachir!" one of the guards called.

The tall, cleanly dressed figure of captain Bachir, cousin of Chorh-gom's own captain Vachir, quickly made his way over to the guard. "Report, corporal."

The guard gave a salute, "Sir!" he pointed at a small segment of wooden flooring, cordoned off from the rest of the theater by cheaply made paper, decorated with crude lettering that read 'keep out.' "Unidentified crumbs, sir! Preliminary investigations indicate cookies, sir!"

Bachir ducked under the cheap paper used to mark the crime scene, and knelt down to closer examine the scattered remains. He sniffed the air close to the ground. "Definitely cookies. Most likely almond." Carefully, he licked the tip of his finger, pressed it to the edge of the crumbs, and put it to his mouth. "Positive identification of almond cookies." He gave one last deep sniff of the air, and narrowed his eyes. "Homemade almond cookies."

The guards gathered went dead quiet.

Bachir rose and surveyed his troops. "I want a full perimeter sweep, and an APB out for possible artisan baker. We have a serial snacker on the loose. I repeat, we have a serial snacker on the loose!"

Chapter Text

Captain Bachir sat at his desk, squinting at the scroll before him. "You mean to tell me," he said slowly, letting the words fall heavily, "That after two hours, the only thing you can tell me about the suspect is that they wear elaborate robes, and have a self-satisfied smirk."

The rhino facing him saluted heartily. "That's correct sir. Even their species was hard to make out. We know that the suspect has fur, but beyond that, we haven't had any luck."

Bachir growled. "Corporal, look out the window, tell me what you see."

The corporal did just that. "Crowds of festive opera enjoyers, sir."

"And what do they wear on average?"

"Elaborate robes, sir."

"And what do the nobles' expressions normally look like?"

"Self satisfied smirks, sir." The corporal was silent for a solid minute. When the penny finally dropped, his shoulders sank. "Sir, I believe I'm beginning to see the problem."

"Good," Captain Bachir barked. "Now go find me a lead we can actually follow."

The corporal made a hurried salute, before scurrying out the door to do just that. Captain Bachir watched him leave for a moment, feeling a mix of relief and rising irritation. Of course the corporal would forget to close the door behind him.

Bachir made his way to the window, looking out onto the sea of guests. "Where are you?" he asked the wind.

A gong rang throughout the courtyard, hushing the quiet conversations held throughout the garden. The doors to the main building opened, and a brightly dressed figure walked out. He held up his hands theatrically. "Welcome, honored guests," his voice rang out, "to our humble garden. Beyond these doors lies worlds of sound and passion, beyond even your wildest of dreams. In the name of our great emperor, I declare this season, open!"

An excited cheer went up through the crowd. As the brightly costumed actor retreated into the building, others followed, the crowd pouring in slowly.

As the crowd milled themselves inside, a gaudily robed monkey sat on a bunch overlooking the rest of the park, wearing oversized shades. A rabbit, similarly wearing robes too large for his frame and sunglasses, soon joined him.

"You bring the goods," the rabbit asked, looking straight ahead.

"That depends. You bring the pay?" the monkey replied.

Without so much as looking at each other, the rabbit set down a small bag of coins. The monkey likewise, discreetly sat a bag to his side. Each animal grabbed the other's bag without a word. The rabbit hid his new prize in the folds of his robes, but discreetly held up the contents and sniffed. "Genuine home cooking," he remarked.

The monkey similarly inspected his own bag. "You know, somebody tried to short-stiff me by paying me with a bag of nails once." Satisfied that his payment was genuine, the monkey stood. "Nice doing business with honest folk."

The rabbit stared at him for the first time since coming to the bench. "Then speaking as an honest man, here's a little bit of advice. Get out of the business while you still can. You're not cut out for this kind of work. The stalls cartel will chew you up and spit you out like over-ripe peaches."

The monkey turned back to flash a winning, mischievous smile. "Oh don't worry about me," he said. "I've got a plan." With that, he turned back to the crowd, stowing his sunglasses in his coat.

The rabbit stared after him, watching him disappear into the bright finery's of the assembled guests. Satisfied that nothing disastrous would happen just yet, he too left.

Tigress and Shifu had already filled into the building and found their seats by the time the others joined them. Crane and Mantis found them first, without much comment aside from a friendly smile. Viper slithered in later, uncharacteristically grumbling to herself. Tigress shot her a quizzical look, and received a slightly strained smile in response.

Monkey came into the theater at the exact last moment, just before silence was called. Tigress briefly made a mental note to ask after those two later. For the moment, the opera demanded her full attention.

As had been agreed upon the night before,  the first opera in today's agenda was 'The Heavenly Maid and the Mortal.' From a quick perusal of the bill, and a rather self-explanatory title, it was the story of one of the Jade Emperor's daughters fleeing to the Earth and meeting with a mortal farmhand, and the bittersweet romance following.

The curtain rose on a painted stage, and magic happened.

Music, sweet as honey drifted over the crowd.

Tigress felt a pang in her heart, watching the Seventh Fairy Maiden ascending, lifting, dragged, back to the Jade Emperor's palace. Dong Yong, her would-be husband, called after her. He might as well have been calling out to the moon, for the good it did.

Just a few songs later, however, she felt relief flood her veins, as a letter written in red found its way to Dong Yong. "When next spring comes, and the flowers bloom, your son shall be yours under the scholar trees."

The five left the theater a few minutes later, ambling out with a newfound appreciation for the arts. Discussion about the opera filled the air outside. "I, for one, enjoyed that more than expected," Tigress offered the group.

"Oh, that was so tragic, but so good!" Viper gushed.

"Yeah, the voices can get a bit shrill," Mantis said, "but that was good."

Tigress looked over towards Monkey. "Monkey? Your thoughts?" She stopped walking as she observed the now-empty space to her right. "Monkey?" She surveyed the crowds, looking for golden fur or oversized yellow robes, but could not find either. She sighed.

Shifu raised an eyebrow. "Have we lost him again?"

"Yes," Tigress sad with a huff.

Shifu sighed. "I'm certain he'll turn up again sooner or later."

"Oh it's not if he comes back that worries me, it's how he comes back."

Shifu hummed in acknowledgement. "Students," he said after a moment, "if anyone asks, we have no idea where Monkey is, or what he is doing. In fact, we don't even know who Monkey is."

"Yes master," they chorused.

They soon split themselves into groups. Shifu and Crane would both be visiting separate areas for more intellectual, high-class productions, while Mantis, Viper, and Tigress would be seeing a comedy next. A bit of lighthearted fun would be nice after an emotional intensive performance.

Viper continued to gush over the performance as they walked, though Tigress noticed her smile and eyes were both too thin. Waiting for a break in the conversation, she finally asked. "So, what was it that you were grumbling about before the show."

Viper sighed before massaging her forehead with her tail. "Nothing. Just that nobles are apparently the worst."

Mantis laughed. "You've got that right. They're so rich they'd buy the whole world if it were for sale."

"Well one almost tried to buy me," Viper spat.

Tigress immediately stopped. "What?"

"Not literally," Viper said hurriedly. "But might as well be. It was this really greasy snake who asked if I would appreciate the 'honor' of being his concubine." She made a disgusted noise from the back of her throat. "Honestly. A concubine. Not even a decently romantic buyout."

Mantis and Tigress both winced. "Something similar happened to me as well," she said. Her teammates stared questioningly. She waved her answer. "Just some rich man's son who thought he could arrange an engagement. I told him I was spoken for, which just made try to sell himself as the better option."

Mantis whistled. "Sounds awkward. So how did he walk away with his face in one piece?"

"Master Shifu showed up. I'm fairly certain he's been scared off." Tigress idly examined her claws. "At least he'd better be."

"Sounds like a real walnut," Monkey said.

Tigress jumped and whirled. Sure enough, there stood Monkey, fashion-affronting attire and all. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," Monkey said. "So what did I miss?"

"Not much," Mantis said. "Just discussing the scum of a classism-based society fueled by trade and monetary gain."

"Tight," Monkey said. "I love complaining about the haves and have-nots. Insulting fat rich people is one of my favorite things to do. Did you know that its surprisingly easy to pickpocket them? They have so many pockets they forget what's inside of them. My brother and I once found an entire teapot in one guy's jacket."

"A teapot?" Viper asked, incredulous.

"A whole teapot, tea still in it. It wasn't even a good blend, I can tell you."

Tigress hummed thoughtfully. She turned to share a look with Viper. As if through some silent conversation, Viper's eyes widened, before they both turned to Monkey. "Monkey," Tigress said casually. "I was wondering if you would mind doing a favor for us."

Monkey held up his hands. "Woah there, I may be a prankster, but I'm not a crook. If you're asking me to steal something from those flaunting louses, you're going to need somebody else."

Tigress shook her head. "Tempting, but no. I was thinking more along the lines of a gift. One they'll wish they could return."

Monkey slowly grinned. "I'm listening. . ."

The rabbit, a sunglasses-wearing specimen with white fur, came to surrounded by bright candles in an otherwise dark room. He was sitting in a chair. On reflex he tried to move, only to find his arms and legs tied.

His focus sharpened, and he tugged further on his bonds. It wasn't rope. Noodles. Dread settled over him like a layer of seasoning.

A group of people walked in, each one wearing a different uniform. There was a sheep dressed in bright orange, along with an apron that had stylized bowls embossed on it. Another was an ox dressed in blue, whose shirt had bright almond cookies. One by one, more and more restaurateurs came in. They surrounded him, their shadows looming overhead like the dark judgements of gods.

In a way, they were. They were the gods of opera commerce, the ancestors of merchandising, the pioneers of the art of up-selling. They were the Stall Cartel.

"You're in a great big heap of trouble, my friend." That voice belonged to a takin whose name was well-known to everyone in the business and out. (If they could pronounce it, that is.)

"I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding," the rabbit said, nervously laughing.

"Oh, I'm sure it is," the sheep said. He pulled out a bag from his pocket and poured out its contents. "After all, how on earth could you have possibly gotten your hands on these illicit cookies."

The rabbit wheezed. "Those? Oh those aren't mine. I just found them."

"Oh," the ox asked. "Then I guess that means you don't mind if I dispose of them." He took out a small mallet, used mostly for cracking nuts. With theatrical grace befitting the stage, he brought down the mallet on one of the cookies.

A yelp escaped the rabbit as he saw it crumble into almond and sugar dust. He bit his lip immediately afterward, but the knowing smile the ox shot him told him it was a moment too late.

Again, he swung, and another cookie was gone, reduced to crumbs.

Again, and another cookies was atomized.

"You know, it's a shame," The sheep said idly.

"Yeah?" the ox asked, smashing yet another cookie.

"This stuff is homemade. Authentic. It probably would have sold for premium."

"That is a shame." CRACK. "Whoever brought them in could have made a small fortune."

The rabbit whimpered. CRACK.

"Very true. I mean, just smell it. Fresh baking, secret ingredients. We just don't make them like this." CRACK.

"Which means that they have to come in from the outside." CRACK. "I wonder how they could have possibly gotten in."

The takin leaned over from behind the rabbit. "It always inspires me to see economic security in action. Don't you find it inspiring, my friend?"

The was precisely one cookie left. One sole survivor of the crumbly carnage. "Now," the ox said evenly. "Are you going to talk?"

"Or are we going to have to crush your sole remaining product?" the sheep asked.

The takin patted his shoulder. "I'll tell you what; we'll let you go. We'll even let you sell that last, prized cookie. As long as you tell us your source."

The rabbit whimpered, the one singular cookie burning into his mind. Really, there was no choice. Rather, there was a choice, but he had already made it.

Chapter Text

It was as Monkey slunk into the shadows with a maniacal grin and a low chuckle that Tigress first experienced her second thoughts. She waited until Monkey's bright-gold eyesore of a robe faded away before she vocalized them. "Viper," she asked, "Do you think we've made a mistake in giving our resident prankster two completely justified targets?"

Viper tasted the air. "Probably," she said mildly.

Tigress side-eyed her. "Should we care?"

"Probably not," Viper said, shrugging with her neck.

She made no further comment, instead turning towards the theater to find seats. Tigress stared a moment longer, before she too shrugged and turned towards the opera house.

The first step to Monkey's plan was to find out how far the guards were along the trail. To that end, Monkey swung and clambered along the rooftops, keeping low enough that none could see him. He made his way steadily over to the guardhouse, stepping lightly not to disturb the roof tiles.

When he arrived, he slowly lowered his head to look through the window. Rhinos milled about various desks and benches, some even slumped against the wall in sleep. He felt a grin stretch across his face. Bored to tears with nothing to do. Perfect.

He pulled back to rest on the rooftop. He cleared his throat a few times and in the highest falsetto he could muster yelled, "Help! Someone's choking on a raisin!" He cast his voice to the far side of the opera house. Monkey sat back in contentment as, in response, a full squadron of rhinoceros (rhinoceroses? Rhinoceri? Rhinos.) came streaming out of the guardhouse in perfect formation.

He ducked back in to check the now unoccupied guardhouse. There were only three guards left, and all of them were snoring loudly. Monkey boldly swung inside. He casually observed the decorations and lack thereof. Finally, he found a note.

It was a blank wanted poster, ripe for framing. Monkey pursed his lips, and pulled out a brush. Thankfully, whatever else the theater guards were, they were well-funded. He palmed a spare inkwell from a desk and began to draw.

All he really needed was a basic head shape with eyes and a few stripes. That probably would have been enough, but just for clarity's sake, he added two small ears, and a set of whiskers. Under the name he wrote 'Unknown,' while under the reward he scrawled 'A Lot of Money.'

Monkey surveyed his work for a moment. He then stared at the rhinoceros that was snoring the loudest. He hummed in thought, before he wiped off 'Money' and instead wrote 'Mun-nee.' There, that would do.

Replacing the borrowed inkwell and pocketing his brush, he took his leave.

Step one accomplished, he surveyed the garden for the guards. By now they were returning back to their base of operations. Monkey squinted and then gaped as he saw one of them holding a raisin.

Shaking himself out of disbelief, he thought. Step two would have to wait until the new wanted poster had time to circulate, and they had more time to become frustrated. So option number one was to whittle away the hours and stay safely out of sight. Boring, but perfectly doable. option number two on the other hand, and he grinned as he thought it, was to stir the pot himself.

His decision made as soon as it occurred to him.

It was nearing sunset by the time Tigress and Viper came out of the theater.

Tigress came out of her second opera satisfied but slightly weary. The truly high notes were starting to sound shrill to her sensitive ears. The last one that she and Viper had attended: 'The Drunken Concubine,' was, in retrospect, never truly going to be Tigress' cup of tea. At least the stunts were impressive.

Her weariness vanished, replaced by wariness as soon as she stepped out of the theater.

The garden was awash with activity, but almost none of it was the regular hustle of a busy tourist attraction. Snack vendors were still peddling their wares, but with the stretched smiles of someone forcing themselves to do something. The guests were mostly continuing with their own business, but they kept glancing around over their shoulders, as if expecting a phantom to emerge from the opera.

The guards who supervised and kept peace among the theater-goers surveyed the crowds with hawk-eyed glares. One of them was palming their mace in clear, eager anticipation. A few were sniffing both the air and the guests, hoping to find the scent of whatever dangerous criminal they apparently pursued.

Tigress and Viper looked to each other. "Do you think. . ." Viper started.

"Who else could it be?" Tigress asked rhetorically.

Without a further word, they turned and walked down the length of the garden. Once they passed the third pillar, Monkey strode alongside them.

"So," Tigress said, "do you actually have a plan, or are you just making this up?"

"Oh it's both." Monkey said. At Tigress' questioning glance he shrugged. "I have a plan, but I have to make up the steps."

"Then phase one seems to be going well," Tigress remarked. Monkey grinned.

Viper stared questioningly. "Should we be anywhere near you or this whole place when phase thirteen happens?"

Monkey waved a paw and scoffed. "Thirteen? Do I look like the thirteen-phase-plan kinda guy to you? No, just two, maybe three phases at most. But trust me, you're going to want a close seat when the fireworks happen!"

"Fireworks," Tigress repeated plainly.

"Not 'fireworks' fireworks, but like, metaphorical fireworks. Trust me."

Viper glared. "How is it that every time you say 'trust me,' I get the urge to do the opposite?"

Monkey grinned and leaned in closer. "Trust me."

Viper hissed, and Monkey leaned back away. Laughing to himself, he slipped back into the crowd and out of sight. The pair watched him, as his robes somehow blended into the sea of rioting colors.

Viper made a thoughtful hum and observed the pink and orange sky. "It's starting to get late," she noted. "I don't know about you, but I really don't want be near Monkey when this whole thing blows up. I don't care how big of a jerk that nobleman was, it isn't worth getting dragged into this mess."

"Probably wise of you," Tigress said. "I still have one more opera to see for the night. I might as well see if Monkey's three-step plan blows up in his face while I'm at it." At Viper's concerned look, she waved a paw. "I'm sure that whatever ends up happening, it will be contained to either him or Lu Fei." The name still tasted sour on her tongue.

Viper nodded, but didn't look convinced. "Alright then. If you're sure. I'm going to head back to the inn."

The two wished each other well and parted. Tigress watched Viper slink into the crowd and reflected. Viper's concerns were legitimate. It wasn't all that uncommon for Monkey's pranks to go overboard. It was only slightly less common for said pranks to end up affecting the entire group of students.

At the same time, Tigress did have that third play to see. And if she just so happened to spy an entitled rich brat get comeuppance, even better.

The tense atmosphere that Viper and her had noted early had strained nearly to breaking. The guards had established a full checkpoint, complete with volunteer dogs trying to sniff our contraband. The nobles that typically frequented the opera were not taking this well. Loud arguments were being had over the indignity of being treated like a known criminal.

Tigress grimaced as she started to walk towards the exit. Monkey dropped to her side not a moment later. "I wouldn't leave just yet if I were you," he said.

Tigress rolled her eyes. "Is it because you have something to be worried about?"

Monkey shook his head. "Just wait. Any minute now, it'll go off." He squinted, scanning the crowd. He pointed, saying "See? Targets are in sight."

Tigress followed his finger. There, on the other end was Lu Fei, walking with an apparently aged snake. He must have been the noble that Viper had accosted earlier. It somehow didn't surprise Tigress to learn that the two knew each other. Tigress could have strained her ears to listen in on their conversation, but she doubted it would be something pleasant to hear.

Lu Fei straightened and looked around. He met Tigress' stare, and began to saunter across the courtyard, much to Tigress' rising irritation.

"We meet again, my dear," he called.

"Mister Lu," Tigress greeted as flatly as possible.

"Please, please, my dear Tigress, call me Fei," Lu Fei said, holding his hand to his heart. His gaze flicked over to Monkey. "I don't believe we've been introduced yet."

Monkey bowed politely before spreading his arms wide. "You may address me as The Great Kung Fu Artist Monkey, of the Four Fists! Or simply Monkey the Great, if you're feeling familiar."

"charmed," Lu Fei said flatly. He returned his attention to Tigress. "We never quite finished our discussion from earlier, did we?"

"Didn't we," Tigress asked rhetorically. "I seem to recall you being dismissed by my master. It seemed conclusive enough."

Lu Fei scoffed and shot her a grin. "I prefer to hear your own thoughts. Ignoring your fiance, ignoring your master, what would you like, hmm? I can offer you so many things. Money? I have enough to give you a life of leisure. Status? My family has faithfully served the emperor for generations." His eyes traveled up and down her figure. Tigress suppressed a shudder. "A more. . . personal accommodation, perhaps?"

Tigress nearly gagged. She glared at the tiger. "I'm not good at courtly politic, or talking around answers, so let me speak plainly." Lu Fei's eyebrow rose. "My answer is no. Even if I had no master, even if I had no fiance, my answer is no. If I had free reign to chose who I love, I can guarantee that you would not be on that list."

Lu Fei's eyes flashed, and his lips curled into a snarl. The expression lasted less than a second, leaving Tigress to wonder if she had imagined it. He then chuckled lowly. "You speak honestly when you say that you don't have much experience in being courtly. After all," Lu Fei locked eyes with Tigress, and she could see once again the burning anger, even beyond the charming smile, "No one says no forever."

Tigress' claws slid out. She felt a hiss begin to rise from her throat, but paused as she felt Monkey grab her hand. He wasn't grinning. He merely shook his head. Tigress took a deep breath and returned her gaze to Lu Fei. "If that is all, then I believe our business is done. Kindly leave us to our conversation."

Lu Fei opened his mouth to retort, but a raspy voice stopped him. "You never do know when to bow out Lu Fei." Approaching them was the snake that Viper had been approached by earlier.

"Fu Xuan," Lu Fei greeted curtly. "I don't recall inviting you to join in."

Mister Fu bowed and smiled. "I, however, do remember telling you to stop chasing after inferior stock." He swiveled his head to look at Tigress. "My dear," he said, patronizingly sweet, "if you'd forgive this boy's rashness."

The snake then pulled Lu Fei away, though not without one final glance. Tigress took a deep breath in. "I was worried at first that you'd go to far," Tigress admitted aloud. "Now I'm worried if you went far enough."

Monkey stuck his tongue out at their retreating backs. "Trust me," he said, "This is going to be glorious!" The two of them began to walk towards the exit, keeping the pair of aristocrats in eyesight.

As the nobles approached the exit, and the guardpost set up there, tigress felt her stomach churn. Whatever happened next, it would not be a small incident that could be easily swept under the rug.

"Watch this," Monkey said to her. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called. "Hey Fei, check your pockets!"

Lu Fei paused, and turned. He spotted the source of the voice and rolled his eyes. He fished through his robes anyways, finding an odd lump in one of the pockets. Pulling out the foreign object, he held it up to the light for study. It looked like an almond coo-

"OUTSIDE FOOD!"

Tigress didn't even blink, and she still wasn't sure if she caught the moment in full. In the span of a single heartbeat, where once stood a tiger of fine standing and arrogant demeanor and an old viper, no stood a rhino putting a length of scales into an impossibly complex headlock, and a dog-pile of rhinoceros that was steadily adding to its mass.

Her hand clamped itself over her mouth in shock. It was only thanks to Monkey pulling her away from the ever-increasing pile of rhinos that she moved at all. One of the dogs looked at the two of them but offered no further scrutiny.

Monkey led her out of the famed Peach Garden and into the city. When they ducked into an alleyway, Monkey finally let go. He looked out back and forth, and finallyturned back to Tigress when the coast was clear. "Okay, and now."

Tigress let her hand rest on the wall as she finally let out her laughter. She was doubled over in almost silent gasps for a few moments, tears even streaming from her eyes.

Monkey grinned at her as her laughs died from hysterics to mere chuckles. He held out his hands grandly. "So?" he asked leadingly.

Tigress smiled. "That will do, Monkey. That will do."

Tigress returned back to the hotel with a satisfied smile and a warmth in her chest. She felt lighter, almost, as though something was buoying her up from inside. That inner levity came crashing down as she entered her room.

There were three things she immediately noticed. The first was an opened letter tied with red string. The second was her own letter, not yet sealed. The third was Viper, happily reading them both.

"Oh Ancestors no." Tigress hadn't realized she'd spoken the thought aloud until she saw Viper slowly turn her way with a giant, almost manic grin.

"Tigress," Viper said sweetly. "When were you going to tell me about your friend?"

Tigress simply stepped back and shut the door.

Chapter Text

Tigress' first thoughts were of appraisal and danger assessment. Anyone finding out about the letters would have been a bad situation, save for maybe Crane. For it to be Viper of all people to stumble into her business with Po? It was as close as she could get to the worst case scenario. The second set of thoughts were of damage control. How could she possibly mitigate this disaster?

Tigress took a deep breath. This was a situation that needed to be handled quickly, carefully and decisively. She slammed open the door. "What are you doing in my room?" she demanded.

The sudden slam made Viper jolt, and once the words registered a moment later, Viper at least had the decency to look abashed. "I promise," Viper said attempting to placate Tigress, "that this is mostly an accident."

Oogway's signature chuckle echoed in her head as she repeated, "'Mostly?' How do you 'mostly accidentally' read an entire two letters from someone else's drawer?"

Viper shrugged, a gesture that required her to focus on two separate points along her tail and raise only those two simultaneously. "Well, the first one wasn't actually from your drawer."

Tigress glared harder.

Viper held up her tail tip, stalling. "I didn't go snooping! Not at first, anyways. I just got back to my room and found a letter in red string. It didn't have an address, but was just directed to someone at the Jade Palace, so I thought it was just something from my sisters. It wasn't until I'd actually opened and read, like, half that I realized I had no idea who was writing. But by then I figured I might as well read the whole thing and see if that gives me a clue on whose mail it really is. That didn't actually help so I thought I'd just peek in and see if anything in the rooms might give a clue."

Viper then leaned back to gesture to the desk. "Lo and behold, a second letter, as yet unsealed and inviting to the eye. And my eyes can't help looking, and my brain can't help understanding. One disturbingly vivid dream journal entry later, I realized the two are a pair. One of my best friends is swapping dreams with an unidentified, most likely dashing, stranger." 

Viper smiled tightly as a squeal rose from her throat. "You can't buy this kind of drama! I should know, we spent almost a week buying drama! I mean, there are so many questions. Is he handsome? Is he some noble whose doomed to carry a torch for a love the both of you may never consummate? Is he some poor farmhand who you saved and now share a special connection with? Is he even a he? I mean I kind of assumed but. . ."

Viper slithered up to Tigress arm, wrapping around it as she continued to babble. "I may not know anything about them, but I smell a story! How did you two meet? When did you two become pen pals? Are you two in a star-crossed romance doomed to wreck both of your houses?" By the time she'd finished, she was proudly standing coiled around Tigress' arm. She leaned in close, her smile almost manic. "Oh, I have so many personally invasive questions I need to ask you!"

Tigress blinked, leaning away from the predatory reptile mere inches from her face. She then held her arm out away from herself and pinched between her eyebrows with the other, sighing in frustration. "What you need," Tigress said, "is to reign in your fantasies about my personal life, and get out of my room."

"Look, I'm sorry about snooping," Viper said, and seemed to mean it, if only partially, "but come on! Don't leave me high and dry! Nothing has been happening at the Jade Palace and I need something to talk about. I need details! Plot! Drama! And a long-distance frienship-and-slash-or-romance sounds like the perfect bit of news for it!"

"Well you're not getting that here," Tigress said, carefully extracting the snake from her arm and setting her down. "This is a completely normal friendship, and we write about utterly mundane things." She made her way over to the desk.

"Like dreams about a tragic villainess in the forest? Tigress, please. I've lived under the same roof as you for almost a year, and I still didn't know you had any other friends. I thought we were the only ones you've ever made. I didn't even know you knew how to make other friends."

Tigress glared.

Viper flushed and averted her gaze. "Sorry, that sounded meaner than it was supposed to."

"I know how to make friends," Tigress muttered, starting to roll her parchments up.

"Tigress, sweetie," Viper said soothingly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you made friends with us by complete accident."

Tigress looked over her shoulder with an almost predatory smile. "There are no accidents," she quoted. Viper sourly flicked her tongue and Ancestors above it felt good to be on the other end of that koan for once. Maybe that was why Oogway liked it so much.

"My point still stands!" Viper proclaimed. "whoever is on the other end of your pen is literally the person of your dreams. As your friend it is my duty to find them, interrogate them thoroughly on their worthiness, and see the two of you off on a blissful romantic journey wherein I am invited to your eventual wedding."

Tigress choked on hearing the phrase 'eventual wedding.' "It's not like that," she cried.  "We're not like that, Po and I are just friends!" She gasped as soon as she heard the words out of her mouth, her paw covering her mouth. Slowly, she stared at Viper, who was staring back with a look of wide-eyed wonder.

"So that's his name," Viper whispered. "Po."

The situation, Tigress realized, was about to get entirely out of paw. She hurriedly scooped up Viper. In a single breath she rattled off her pleasantries and excuses. "Thank you for stopping by, it was nice talking to you, now it's late and I need to sleep, goodnight!"

Viper wrapped her tail around Tigress' arm one last time. "Wait!" she cried.

Tigress narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Viper stared blankly at Tigress for a moment. Finally, she asked. "Is he handsome?"

Tigress blinked. Was Po handsome? Her mind started to ponder the question, until she saw Viper leaning ever-closer with full, rapt attention. Heat flushed her cheeks and her ears flattened as she curtly responded, "No. Goodnight, Viper." Unceremoniously, Tigress swept her arm clean of reptile, and launched Viper out the door. It was closed before she even hit the ground.

Tigress collapsed, back against the door, with a deep sigh of relief, sinking all the way to sit. A moment later, Viper's voice called from the other side. "You will not stall me forever," she vowed. "I will have my gossip!" Tigress headbutted her palm with a groan, though she was allowed some petty vengeance as she heard several voices calling for Viper to be quiet.

Legend speaks of a warrior, who could move the very mountains with her strength. She traveled the land, bringing justice and destruction with her.

The palace was besieged. Enemies crawled around it and even over it, as though they were a swarm of over-sized insects. 

She arrived at the palace alone: no armies, no followers, no disciples. For this, she would need only herself.

She whistled, and ten thousand bandits turned to stare at her.

She said nothing. She did not need to say anything. She held up a hand, and waved tauntingly.

The band of robbers and thieves chattered and clamored. They leapt from the palace like a stream of blades and death.

She smiled. With a single turn-kick, she swept them all aside, far off into the distance.

No warrior was there who was ever so feared. Or so loved. 

Even as she walked into the newly freed palace thousands upon thousands of fans adored her. Servants swept the path clean before her, not so that she wouldn't trip, but because they felt that only the cleanest path honored her.

Inside the palace was gold and jade and wealth, but more than that, the prince. Her prince. Her-

"Tigress, are you up?"

The warrior blinked. 

"We're going to be leaving soon!"

Then the warrior was falling.

Tigress violently woke up just in time for her front to meet the wooden floor with a thud. She groaned as another knock came softly on the door. 

"Tigress?" Crane called from the other side.

"I'm up," Tigress forced herself to say. "I'll be out in a minute." Groaning, she got up. Morning had come, and with it, an end to their trip to the capital. They could not delay long. In retrospect, Tigress longed to have taken the time to see the sights, or at least look around some. Maybe she should have gone with Oogway for that tea. Regardless, it was too late. Even if they made a tour out of their departure date, that would put them on the road late into the night. She wasn't looking forward to the long ride as is, one that only started after they were all tired would only end in disaster.

Readying herself for the day, Tigress got to packing. After carefully folding the expensive dress that was soon to be returned to Madame Ying and hiding her letter where Viper would never, ever find it again, Tigress left.

The students and masters of the palace were gathered outside the hotel, each one carrying a bag or two, except for Monkey. Monkey, as it appeared, was otherwise occupied.

A large rhino in a neatly pressed and cared for uniform was vigorously shaking Monkey's hand. "I cannot thank you enough, citizen. Your efforts may have single-handedly saved the order of the Peach Garden."

"You're welcome?" Monkey said, half bewildered by the events, and half nauseous from how Captain Bachir's handshake was dragging him up and down. Monkey swallowed some of his motion sickness and cleared his throat. "Honestly it was nothing. A, uh, stable economy is it's own reward."

Bachir stopped shaking Monkey's hand (and the simian there attached) but didn't let go. He heartily laughed, head tipping back. "How right you are! Say, my men could always use more help. If you ever think about joining up. . ."

"No!" Monkey hurriedly said. "That's to say: the offer is too. . . generous. If i didn't already have commitments with the Jade Palace. . ." Monkey let the sentence trail off.

"Bah! Probably for the best. My men are a tight-knit group. We're practically family, in a way. A new addition might be too much of an adjustment. Still if you ever find yourself needing a new station."

"I'll. . . keep you in mind."

"Good man!" With that, Bachir finally let go of Monkey's hand. He bowed respectfully, and nodded goodbye to the rest of them.

Monkey waved him off with his left hand. Only after the Rhino was safely out of sight did Monkey's left hand fly to his right as he howled. "Oh ancestors. That was the firmest pawshake I've ever had. Are my fingers fuzzier than normal? They feel fuzzy. I can even feel it when I move, ow." Monkey flexed and examined his digits, making sure there was at least some blood still circulating to the poor hand.

Shifu called everyone to attention as the carriages were pulled up. In short order, everyone had started packing for the long trip home. Monkey, Tigress noticed, was only carrying one bag at a time.

"Allow me," she told him as she shifted her bags around to carry them under one arm, and scooped up Monkey's under the other.

Monkey smiled appreciatively. "Is this your way of saying thanks for last night?"

Tigress smiled back. "In a way."

"You know, I'm sure you could have handled that guy just fine. It's not like he could do anything to you without risking a broken face."

"True," Tigress admitted, fitting boxes and bags together like building blocks, "but you knew how to handle him without breaking anyone's face."

Monkey shrugged. "Eh, I wouldn't bet on it. Those guards rhino-piled him pretty hard."

The two of them shared an amused grin. "Handle him without personally breaking his face," Tigress amended. "Regardless, thank you. Last night wouldn't have been half as fun without you."

"Anytime."