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He'd always felt awkward as a girl.
Ping - Mulan - had never had a way to say it, but somehow, being a man had felt right. It was awkward the first few days, yes, but it started to make more and more sense as training went on. He was never meant to be a girl, despite being born one. He wondered if he could, after this war was done, just leave his family and be Ping forever, instead of having to be Mulan.
He was sure some of it was because women had to be all beautiful and delicate and he'd much rather go out and do things. He'd rather climb trees and play with the boys than do what girls were supposed to do.
But Fa Mulan's family had been fairly traditional, even if Father had been willing to teach his bright daughter chess. And no matter how bright Fa Mulan was, she was always to be a girl. To be married off, to live someone else's life, to be who she didn't want to be.
Fa Ping could be the man he realized he was meant to be. Certainly, he'd always be childless in a society that valued children. No wishes or desires would alter the fact that he had breasts, a womb. But he could live, be a hero, or at least a warrior. Here, he could be himself, or at least figure out who he was supposed to be. The others were coming around, liking Ping in a way Mulan had never been accepted.
He didn't know if it was just that men were allowed to be more than women were, but he had a feeling it wasn't that. Girls didn't climb up trees, at least proper ones didn't. But he believed he'd gone far beyond that. He never wanted to leave being a man.
But he had no choice. He was his father's son, his father's daughter. He had to go home; he had to be Mulan again. He had to be the dutiful daughter and he couldn't run away, not without dishonoring his family. He might dream of a life as a man, but he had been born a woman.
Putting his staff down, he retreated back to his tent before the others could see him cry.