Hey guys! I'm rewriting this chapter, and the rest of them, to bring it up to snuff before adding anything new. If you enjoyed it, please review! I'll be posting on this story every other week.

I know this part of the fic originally started out shorter, but I didn't want to mesh two chapters into one, and I wanted to get a little bit of normal life before Mulan actually runs off to battle.

I knew she was destined to do great things. I knew she wouldn't be content with the quiet life the village offered, a life of bringing honor to one's family and home. Whenever we were little, she would drag me and any other kid she could away from playing dolls or tag in the village square to go exploring. So when she ran away to join the war, I wasn't surprised. I knew.

This is not the story of Mulan. This is the story of Daiyu.

We were exactly one year apart, one born at sunrise, and the other at sunset. Mulan was born in the year of the Dragon, and she was intelligent, confident, and tenacious. I was born in the year of the Snake, and was quiet, determined, and a thinker. We both had our faults, though. I could get stressed easily, while Mulan had a quick temper and DID NOT like criticism.

We were a close-knit family. Grandmama, Mama, Papa, Mulan, and I all lived in a beautiful house just outside the village. Today, Mulan, Mama, Grandmama and I were preparing for the joint party that would take place today. Me and Mulan were having our birthday!

In the kitchen, I helped roll out and cut the long-life noodles we would serve that night. We wouldn't be having anybody over, but it was going to be wonderful anyway. As I molded the noodles into nests and set them on the counter to dry for a while, I pondered what a new year of life would bring.

We all sat at the dinner table, happily slurping our noodles and talking. Mulan was making us laugh by telling us a story about two little boys who had stolen an apple from a vendor in the village, only to slip and fall in a pile of ox dung. I was trying my hardest not to let the noodle broth come out of my nose.

"Are you girls done?" Asked Mama. "Your gifts are ready."

We never had dessert before we opened presents. As soon as we had been old enough to talk, Mulan and I demanded presents as soon as our bellies were full. "Yes!" We cheered.

Mother left and came back, bearing several wrapped parcels. "These are from all of us," said Grandmother, removing two peaches from their paper swaddling and dropping them into our cupped hands.

"Thank you, Grandmama," we chorused, kissing her cheeks. Mulan took a big bite of hers, while I dropped mine into my lap to save for later.

"This is from me," said Father. He pulled out two closed fans and handed them to us. Mulan unfolded hers, a yellow fan with silvery-gray borderlines. Mine was white, with a cherry blossom branch in bloom stretching from one side to the other. We both hugged him, thanking him.

"And from me," said Mother, handing me a paper-wrapped package, and Mulan a small piece of cloth folded around something. I eagerly opened mine. It was a hanfu with a white jacket embroidered with tiny blue flowers over a light blue silky skirt.

"Thank you, Mama!" I hugged her tight, happy to have something beautiful to wear. My only other nicely-colored hanfu (one was green and yellow, the other yellow and purple) had been one of Mulan's hand-me-downs, and she had already put several holes in it and lost the sash for the jacket.

Mulan was smiling as she held her present up to the light, a jade hair comb with a gilded lily resting atop it. "Oh, Mama, it's beautiful!" She threw her arms around Mama.

"It will be perfect for you to wear to see the matchmaker."

Mulan and I stopped at Father's comment.

"Matchmaker, Father?"

"You are of the age," he told her. "It's time for you to take on the responsibility."

"But Papa-"

"No buts." Papa spoke with the deceptively calm tone of voice that meant no arguing. "You're scheduled to see Hin Dai-tai next week."

And so that was the beginning of everything really, the grain of rice that tipped the scale.