Between Friends

One Goes In, Two Come Out

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.