Chapter Text
It was midnight.
Tigress lay curled in her small barracks, the moonlight spilling in through the open window and painting silver patches across her tiny bed. She hugged her little paws to her chest, trying to quiet the hiccups that shook her body, trying to hold back the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. She felt hollow in the pit of her stomach, as if a part of her had been left behind when she arrived at the Jade Palace. Master Shifu had taken her in, yes, but his sternness was like a wall that she didn’t yet know how to scale. His eyes were sharp, unyielding, and his voice always carried the weight of expectation. He had promised guidance, training, and belonging, but so far, all Tigress felt was the ache of loneliness and the sting of being too small, too inexperienced, too much a cub in a world of warriors.
Her orange fur glimmered faintly in the moonlight, black stripes curving around her chubby little frame. Her round face, big eyes, and slightly too-large ears made her look younger than she was, more fragile than she truly felt inside. She pressed her face into the thin blanket, sniffled quietly, and tried to imagine herself back at the Bao Gu Orphanage, where she had spent the first five years of her life.
She had been left on the orphanage doorstep as a tiny cub, abandoned by parents she would never know. The caretakers had taken her in, giving her food, a bed, and a roof over her head, but life there had never truly been kind to her.
Tigress had always been strong, too strong for a cub her age. When she became upset or frightened, things around her broke before she even realized what she was doing. Wooden doors splintered beneath her paws. Tables cracked. Once, a stone railing had shattered when she pushed against it in anger.
The other children began to avoid her.
At first they simply stared. Then they whispered. Eventually, they ran whenever she came too close. Some of them cried.
It didn’t take long before the whispers turned into something worse.
Monster.
She heard the word more than once, always spoken quietly, as if saying it too loudly might provoke her. The caretakers tried to keep order, but even they were uneasy around her. They watched her carefully, their eyes filled with worry and fear, as though she might lose control at any moment.
No one wanted to sit near her. No one wanted to play with her.
They still fed her. They still gave her a place to sleep. But the warmth that other children received was never meant for her.
Tigress learned very quickly that everyone was afraid of her.
Everything changed the day Master Shifu arrived.
Unlike the others, he did not step back when he saw her. He did not whisper. He did not look at her with fear. Instead, his sharp eyes studied her with calm focus, as if he could see something deeper beneath the anger and confusion.
Where others saw a monster, Shifu saw something else.
Potential.
With strict patience and firm discipline, he began teaching her restraint. He showed her how to control the strength that frightened everyone else, how to breathe through her anger instead of letting it explode. It was not easy. Many days ended in frustration.
But slowly, little by little, Tigress began to learn.
And eventually, Shifu took her away from the orphanage and brought her to the Jade Palace.
Now this was her home.
Or at least… it was supposed to be.
Yet sometimes, late at night like this, the old feeling crept back in, the quiet fear that she still didn’t quite belong anywhere.
Here, at the Jade Palace, everything was bigger. The halls seemed endless, the rooms vast, and the voices, Shifu’s most of all, loomed over her like the shadow of a mountain. She sniffled again, curling beneath her little blanket as a dull ache twisted in her chest.
She was still learning what it meant to belong.
Then, crash!
The sound erupted from the tree line behind the palace, loud enough to make her jump. Her ears shot up, twitching in every direction. Her heart thumped against her ribs so fast it was almost painful. She froze, unsure whether to dive under her blanket or move toward the noise. The thought of Shifu’s stern gaze flashed in her mind, warning her to stay put, to be careful, to obey. And Tai Lung, he lived close by, powerful and immense, and Tigress had only ever seen him in the daylight, during breakfast or supper, when he barely acknowledged her existence. He was fifteen years older than her, a mountain of fur and muscle, and Tigress had learned early on that it was safer to stay small and invisible around him.
But curiosity is a cruel thing for a young heart. The crash had sparked something sharp and electric inside her. She had to see. She had to know.
Trembling, she wiped the tears from her eyes with her tiny paw. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded quietly toward the door. Every step was measured, careful. Every creak of the floorboards made her freeze mid-step. She pressed her ears flat against her head, straining to hear any movement from Tai Lung’s barracks. Not a sound.
Careful, careful, careful, she told herself. One paw after the other, she edged closer to the door, opening it just a crack. Beyond lay the courtyard, bathed in soft, silver moonlight. Shadows stretched and twisted across the stone floor. A rustling in the leaves, the distant cry of an owl, the whisper of the wind, they all made her pause. But another crash! rang out from the trees, louder and closer this time.
Her small heart clenched, fear twisting with excitement. She froze, her paws trembling, whiskers twitching nervously. Should I? Should I not? she thought. Her instincts screamed to run back to her bed, to hide and pretend none of this had happened. But the pull of curiosity, the same spark that had always made her watch others train, that had driven her to sneak little glances at Tai Lung and Shifu from afar, won over. Inch by inch, she stepped into the cool night air.
The courtyard was silent, almost unnervingly so. Each of her tiny paws made barely a whisper against the stone, and she hugged the shadows, crouching low behind a rock. From here, she could see the source of the crashing.
There he was.
Tai Lung.
The sight of him made her chest tighten. He was enormous, a seven-foot snow leopard with gray fur patterned in bold black and white spots. His loose purple pants swayed with his movements, and his beige Shaolin ankle wraps accentuated the strength in his massive legs. Every movement was precise, controlled, purposeful. And yet, there was something almost hypnotic in the fluidity of his motion, something that drew her in despite the fear that clutched at her belly.
He had mastered all 1,000 scrolls of Kung Fu by the age of sixteen, a feat none had achieved before. Soon after, he brought down the Iron Fang Brotherhood, the infamous gang of wolf warriors who had terrorized the mountain pathways for years. Recently, he had defeated the infamous Laughing Leopard, a bandit feared by all. And yet here he was, young yet unstoppable, his power radiating like the sun itself.
He leapt, spun, and punched with the force of a storm, the ironwood trees shuddering with each blow. The thuds echoed across the courtyard like distant drums. Even at twenty, he radiated the kind of intensity that made Tigress’s small body shrink instinctively. His golden eyes, sharp and commanding, flicked across the shadows, and his whiskers curled like a proud, dark moustache. The sheer power in his frame, in the effortless way he moved and struck, made her breath catch in her throat.
Tigress’s tail flicked nervously. Her instincts screamed at her to turn, to run, to hide under her blanket and forget this night ever happened. And yet… there was a stubborn curiosity in her that refused to let her step back. Slowly, trembling, she inched closer. Her small paws pressed against the cold stone as if it could anchor her heart, her eyes fixed on every motion, every twist, every powerful punch.
Suddenly, Tai Lung froze mid-spin. His head tilted, ears flicking, and his deep, rumbling voice cut through the quiet.
“Who’s there? Don’t make me come over there.”
Tigress’s heart jumped into her throat. How could he have heard her? She had been so careful. Her tiny body shook with fear and adrenaline.
“I… it’s me,” she whispered, barely audible. Her voice wavered like a tiny flame in the dark.
Tai Lung’s golden eyes narrowed in confusion. “Tigress?” he said, his voice calm but carrying a flicker of surprise. “What are you doing out here?”
“I… I heard a noise…” she whispered again, ears flattening.
Tai Lung let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Ah… that would be me,” he said, flexing his massive paws. “I cannot feel anything in my fists anymore.” His gaze softened slightly. “I was your age once when I started training.”
Tigress’s tail flicked nervously, but her curiosity overrode her fear. She padded toward one of the ironwood trees, raising her tiny paw as if to imitate his punches. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I want to try…”
Tai Lung stepped smoothly in front of her, a protective shadow against her trembling. She swung anyway, and connected with his leg.
Tai Lung barely flinched. A low rumble of amusement escaped him. “Not quite,” he said, and, with a careful motion, scooped her up into his massive, warm arms. She squirmed, surprised by his strength, but he held her gently.
“You’re tired, little one,” he said softly. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
Tigress’s ears drooped, a mix of relief and embarrassment flooding her. “B-but…”
“Curiosity is good,” Tai Lung interjected, chuckling. His voice rumbled in her chest like a warm drum. “But even the strongest warriors need rest. The Jade Palace isn’t a place for little cubs to wander alone at night.” He adjusted her carefully in his arms. “You’ll have plenty of time to train… when the time is right. For now… you need sleep.”
Her small face pressed against his chest, and for the first time since arriving at the palace, she felt… safe. Not alone. Not invisible. Just… protected.
He moved through the courtyard, careful and deliberate, the night air cool against their fur. “You are not to go wandering outside at night again,” he said firmly. “You do not leave the grounds alone. It is dangerous for a cub. You only leave with me, Master Oogway, or Master Shifu. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes,” Tigress whispered, nodding.
Tai Lung pushed open the barracks door with a quiet creak and stepped inside. Moonlight spilled across the wooden floor. He guided her gently to her small bed and tucked her in, smoothing the blanket around her.
“There,” he said, softer now. “Goodnight little kitten.”
Tigress hugged the blanket close to her chest, her cheeks still warm and her wide eyes slowly growing heavy with sleep. Tai Lung watched her for a moment, making sure the small cub was truly settled.
A quiet thought passed through his mind. From now on… I’ll only train against the ironwood trees during the day. No more striking them in the middle of the night. The cub needs sleep.
Satisfied, he gave a small nod to himself. Turning toward the door, Tai Lung stepped quietly from the room. His large paw pushed the door open just enough for him to slip through before gently pulling it closed behind him.
Outside, the barracks were still. The night had grown calm again, the courtyard bathed in soft moonlight.
And for once, peace settled over the barracks.
Then everything changed.
The strength that once protected would become destruction.
The hands that carried her would one day tear through stone and splinter mountains.
Tai Lung’s rage would shake the valley, leaving ruin in its wake. He would demand the Dragon Scroll, not with honor, but by force.
Shifu tried to stop him.
He couldn’t.
In the end… only Oogway could.
And whatever love had once existed in the Jade Palace…
died with that moment.
Shifu became cold. Distant.
And Tigress… learned what it meant to be alone.
All because of Tai Lung.