2012

The afternoon sun cast golden light over the suburban neighborhood as eight-year-old Lukas Preston slumped against the front door. His small hands were clenched into fists, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, and his jeans were smudged with dirt from where he had fallen. His face was red, both from the frustration of holding back tears and the embarrassment of what had happened at school.

Inside, the comforting aroma of something baking filled the house. His mother, Julia Preston, stood at the kitchen counter, rolling out dough. She was a warm woman with soft brown eyes and an easy smile, always making their home feel safe.

The sound of the door shutting a little too hard caught her attention.

"Lukas?" she called, turning toward the entryway.

No response.

Julia wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked toward the hallway, where Lukas stood with his head bowed.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said gently, kneeling in front of him. "You okay?"

Lukas shook his head, staring at the floor.

Julia frowned. "Rough day?"

He hesitated, then nodded, his lip trembling slightly.

She reached out, brushing some dirt off his sleeve. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Lukas hesitated. Saying it out loud made it feel worse. "Some kids at school were mean," he muttered. "They pushed me in the dirt."

Julia's eyes darkened with concern. "Who?"

"Just some bigger kids," Lukas mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. "They said I was weak."

The front door opened again, and his father, Calvin Preston, walked in. Calvin was a tall, broad-shouldered man, a mechanic with grease-stained hands and a quiet strength about him. He worked long hours, but he always made time for his family.

"What's going on?" Calvin asked, noticing Lukas' slumped posture.

"Some kids at school were picking on him," Julia explained, a slight edge in her voice.

Calvin's brows furrowed as he looked at his son. "Yeah?"

Lukas only nodded, still staring at the floor.

Julia sighed, standing up. "Why don't you go wash up, baby? Dinner's almost ready."

Lukas nodded and trudged to his bedroom.

🥋

Later that night, after dinner had been unusually quiet, Calvin stood outside Lukas' room and knocked.

Lukas' room was a reflection of his young personality—walls covered in superhero posters, a shelf stacked with comic books and adventure novels, and an unmade bed with a stuffed dinosaur resting against the pillows.

Lukas sat on the floor, idly playing with an action figure.

"Mind if I sit?" Calvin asked, leaning against the doorway.

Lukas shrugged.

Calvin took a seat on the floor beside him, stretching his long legs out. "Your mom told me what happened today."

Lukas' face tensed, and he looked down.

Calvin sighed. "Look, kiddo. I know what it's like to get pushed around. It sucks."

Lukas glanced up. "You got bullied?"

Calvin smirked. "Oh yeah. When I was about your age, some older kids used to mess with me too."

Lukas frowned. "What did you do?"

Calvin leaned back on his palms. "Well... at first, I let it get to me. I thought if I ignored them, they'd stop."

Lukas scoffed. "Did it work?"

"Nope," Calvin said with a chuckle. "But you know what I figured out? Being strong isn't just about fighting back. It's about how you carry yourself. Bullies want a reaction. If they see they can't break you, they lose interest."

Lukas furrowed his brow. "So... I just ignore them?"

Calvin nodded. "In a way. You don't let them see that they got to you. You stand tall, even if you feel small inside. And if they don't stop?" He ruffled Lukas' hair. "Then you tell someone. You don't have to deal with this alone, alright?"

Lukas hesitated, then nodded.

Calvin smiled. "And hey—if you ever want to learn how to throw a good punch, maybe we can work on that too."

For the first time that day, Lukas smiled.

Several Years Later

Lukas sat in his high school math class, tapping his pencil against the desk. He wasn't paying attention to the equations on the board—his thoughts were elsewhere.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the classroom door open.

The principal was standing there, looking right at him.

"Lukas Preston?" the teacher called.

Lukas froze as every eye in the room turned to him. Even Hannah, who sat across from him, looked over, concern flickering in her expression.

"Can you come with me?" the principal asked gently.

Lukas swallowed hard and stood up, his heart pounding.

As he followed the principal down the quiet hallways, a terrible feeling settled in his stomach.

When they reached the office, he saw a police officer and a woman from social services waiting.

"Lukas," the officer started, his voice unnaturally soft. "There's no easy way to say this, but... your parents were in an accident."

Lukas felt his stomach drop. "What?"

The officer sighed. "A drunk driver ran a red light. Their car..." He hesitated, then finished, "They didn't make it."

Silence.

Lukas' mind went blank.

No. No, this wasn't real.

His parents.

Gone.

A strangled sound escaped his throat as the world blurred around him. He felt like he was falling, but his feet were planted on the ground.

Someone—maybe the principal—reached out to steady him, but Lukas barely noticed.

"I just saw them this morning," he whispered.

The officer gave him a look full of pity. "I'm so sorry."

The words barely registered as Lukas gasped for breath, his body shaking.

🥋

The days that followed passed in a haze. The funeral. The sympathy cards. The distant relatives whispering about what would happen to him now.

Then came the custody hearing.

His godmother, Jenna Preston, was granted guardianship. She wasn't a mother—she had never been married, never had kids. She had always been more focused on her career.

But she had loved Calvin and Julia.

So when the judge declared that Lukas would live with her, she took a deep breath and promised herself that she would make this work.

Lukas barely spoke as they packed his things and drove to her house in the Valley.

As they pulled up to her modest but well-kept home, Jenna glanced at him. "I know this isn't what you wanted," she said softly. "And I don't have a clue how to do this. But I loved your dad. And I loved Julia. And I love you. So I promise, we'll figure it out. Okay?"

Lukas stared at her for a long moment before nodding.

But inside, he wasn't sure how he'd ever figure anything out again.

Present Day

The wind was sharp but not biting, rustling through the skeletal branches above as Lukas Preston stood between two modest gravestones. He held a lukewarm coffee in one hand, the cup softening with condensation, and shoved the other deep into the pocket of his jacket. His eyes lingered on the carved names—Calvin and Julia—etched in stone that had weathered a little more each time he visited.

He exhaled through his nose and lowered himself to the grass, cross-legged, quiet. The silence settled around him, familiar and oddly comforting.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad," he said softly.

The words came easy, like muscle memory.

"A lot's happened lately," he continued, eyes flicking back and forth between the markers. "New school. New things that have happened. You wouldn't believe how weird it is starting over like that."

He hesitated, brushing a few fallen leaves off his dad's headstone.

"I didn't think I'd fit in. I mean... I didn't even want to. I was angry. At everything. At everyone. But then I met someone. Daniel LaRusso."

His voice steadied. The corners of his mouth twitched up, a trace of a smile.

"Yeah, the car dealership guy. Turns out he's also a karate sensei. Real old-school, like something out of a movie. Took me under his wing. Taught me how to breathe again. How to move. How to think before I throw a punch."

Lukas picked at the grass, head tilted slightly.

"Joined his dojo—Miyagi-Do. Learned a lot. Got roughed up, sure, but... I figured some things out. Learned to stand my ground, learned to stand for something."

He let out a dry chuckle.

"And I made friends. Real ones. Robby, Eli, well maybe not anymore.....Then there's Miguel..."

His voice dipped with the name.

"He was my friend. I thought he still was, but... things got messy. Sam—Daniel's daughter—she's part of it. We kind of had a thing. Or we were starting to, I guess. And Miguel—he just couldn't let it go."

Lukas looked down at the grass.

"I beat him in a karate tournament. Barely. It didn't feel like a win, though. Not really. Felt like I left something behind in that ring."

He shifted his focus to his father's stone.

"Jenna's doing okay. I saw her the other day. She pretends she's fine, like always, but you can tell—she still misses you. Just doesn't say it out loud."

Then to his mom's.

"And Hannah... well. She was doing fine. But something's off now."

He paused.

"I know, right? Doesn't sound like her. But she won't talk to me. Won't answer my texts. Leaves me on read like I'm just some stranger." His jaw tightened. "I'm trying not to think the worst, but I'm worried. I'm really worried."

He looked up, eyes skimming the quiet stretch of headstones that surrounded him.

"Speaking of Sam." His voice softened. "She's... amazing, honestly. But it's complicated. She broke up with Miguel and she's not looking to date anyone right now. That's okay, though. I've got plenty to deal with."

His phone buzzed faintly in his pocket. Lukas checked the time. Late.

"I'm supposed to meet Robby and Sam at the mall. I should probably go."

He stood slowly, wincing as his joints stretched from sitting too long. He brushed off the seat of his jeans, then turned back to the graves one last time.

"I miss you both. Every day." He swallowed, hard. "But I think... you'd be proud of the kid I've turned out to be."

Lukas looked at the stones for a quiet moment more, the breeze curling around him like a whispered goodbye.

"I'll come back soon," he said.

And with that, he turned and walked toward the path, shoulders squared, steps steady—toward whatever came next.

🥋

A breeze rolled across the cemetery, rustling through the trees like whispers passing between the dead. Lukas Preston disappeared down the winding gravel path, coffee cup dangling loosely in one hand, his pace unhurried but heavy. He didn't look back.

Behind one of the larger oaks near the edge of the clearing, John Kreese stood still, arms folded loosely behind his back, the brim of his black cap shadowing his face.

He hadn't moved since Lukas first arrived.

He'd watched the boy sit between two headstones. Had heard everything—every word murmured to the wind. The mention of Daniel LaRusso. Of balance. Of pain. Of Sam.

And weakness.

Kreese's jaw shifted slightly as he watched Lukas grow smaller down the path. He stepped out from the tree line, just enough for the dying daylight to catch the side of his face.

"Everyone's got a soft spot..."

A dry smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. Cold. Knowing.

"And this kid? He just told me his."

🥋

The mall's food court buzzed with weekend chaos—families at tables, teens hunched over milkshakes, music humming from overhead speakers. At one corner, Lukas, Sam, and Robby crowded around a phone, laughing.

"Oh-ho-ho. Sweet man bun," Lukas said, squinting at Robby's driver's license. "This is a legal piece of documentation, dude. You look like a yoga instructor in a rom-com."

Robby groaned. "I told you it was a horrible picture."

Sam smirked. "You know, if you were friends with me back then, I could've warned you. The man bun was a trap."

"Yeah, well, I'm stuck with it for five years," Robby said with a shrug. "No biggie."

Sam tilted the phone. "Wait. Robert Swayze Keene?"

Robby rolled his eyes. "My mom was obsessed with Patrick Swayze. Made me watch Dirty Dancing growing up."

"Made you?" Lukas raised an eyebrow. "Please. My aunt made me watch it every Thanksgiving. I've got half the soundtrack memorized. Still more partial to Donnie Darko, though."

"That movie's a trip," Robby said.

Sam nodded. "Time travel logic was garbage, but the vibe was great."

They were still trading movie takes when Demetri approached.

"Wait. Is today Wednesday?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah," Robby said.

"Uh-huh," Sam added.

Demetri's eyes lit up. "The new issue of Dungeon Lord is out."

"Oh sick!" Lukas blurted—then caught himself, glancing at Sam. "I mean, that's... cool."

Sam giggled.

"You guys want anything from the comic store?" Demetri asked.

"I'm good," Sam replied.

"I'll be right back," Demetri said, walking off. "Please don't let anyone throw out my chicken."

Lukas watched him go, something tugging at his chest. Demetri had struggled to find his place in the dojo. Half in, half out. Always kind of alone.

"Hey, Demetri—wait up," Lukas called, rising.

Demetri turned. "You into Dungeon Lord now?"

"Been into it. Just not as bold about it," Lukas admitted. "Besides, I could use the walk."

They headed toward the comic store.

"You really thinking about sticking with Miyagi-Do?" Lukas asked after a beat.

"I don't know, man. I've never really fit in," Demetri said. "I'm the guy they pull in to spar when they want someone to beat."

"You're not," Lukas said. "You just need to find your rhythm. Trust me, I've been there."

They turned a corner—and stopped cold.

Hawk stood by the entrance, red mohawk practically glowing under the overhead light. Four Cobra Kai students stood with him, arms crossed.

"Still geeking out over Dungeon Lord, huh?" Hawk sneered.

Demetri smirked. "Nice hair. What is this, your Red Hulk phase?"

"I saw your Yelp review," Hawk growled.

"What Yelp review?" Lukas asked, already stepping forward.

Demetri didn't look away. "And ruin my journalistic integrity? I'm Elite, man. That takes dedication."

"I said take it down," Hawk said, stepping closer.

Demetri squared his shoulders. "You think I'm scared of you? I know who you are, Eli."

Hawk's jaw twitched.

"Back off," Lukas said, voice calm but sharp.

Hawk grabbed him by the collar, shoving him back a step. "What was that, fake champion?"

Lukas locked eyes with him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He doesn't think you deserved the win," Mikey said from behind Hawk. "Everyone knows Miguel should've had that trophy."

Lukas shrugged free of Hawk's grip. "Like you guys deserved to injure my shoulder in the semis? Spare me."

"Great," Demetri muttered. "We're doing group assault now."

Hawk stepped forward again. "Take it down, or we take you down. Both of you."

"Don't make me laugh," Lukas said, setting his stance.

Demetri, surprisingly, held firm. "You'd actually hurt me? Because guess what—I just joined Miyagi-Do."

"Oh yeah?" Hawk smirked. "Let's see what you've got."

The Cobras lunged.

Demetri yelped and knocked over a full bookstand, sending comics and shelves tumbling.

"Hey!" the cashier shouted.

"Demetri, wait!" Lukas called, breaking into a sprint.

"Get him!" Hawk roared.

They chased through the mall, dodging kiosks and confused shoppers until they looped back into the food court—now empty.

Demetri stopped, winded. "Of course they left."

But the Cobra Kais caught up, spreading out like wolves.

"You could've joined us," Hawk said. "But instead, you picked the losing team."

"And you're not part of that?" Lukas shot back.

Mikey stepped forward. "You're dead meat."

A voice rang out from behind.

"Back off."

Sam and Robby returned, walking calmly into the fray.

"I don't want to hit a girl," Hawk said.

"You won't have to," came another voice.

Hannah stepped into view, dressed in a black Cobra Kai hoodie.

Lukas blinked. "Hannah? What the hell?"

She smirked. "Surprised?"

"I didn't believe Sam when she told me," Lukas said. "What did you do?"

"Maybe your little girlfriend should shut the hell up."

"Don't say that about her," Lukas snapped.

Sam stepped forward. "You wouldn't last two rounds."

"Six against four," Hawk taunted. "More like three and a half."

Lukas cracked his knuckles. "My shoulder's healed. Let's go."

Then—chaos.

The Miyagi-Dos tightened into a wheel. Demetri in the center. Robby on the right. Sam on the left. Lukas at the front.

Lukas vs Hawk exploded. Hawk attacked with wild, looping punches, fueled by pride. Lukas countered each strike with calm, precise blocks. He parried a spinning elbow, caught Hawk's arm, and twisted, forcing him back. Hawk retaliated with a flying knee, but Lukas sidestepped and countered with a brutal side kick to the ribs, sending Hawk stumbling.

"You've still got nothing," Lukas said through clenched teeth.

Sam vs Hannah was tighter, faster. Hannah's strikes were stiff and mechanical—powerful but angry. Sam ducked a jab and swept her legs, only for Hannah to kip back up. They circled. Sam landed a palm strike to the sternum, then twisted into a hook kick that grazed Hannah's temple. Hannah snarled and tackled Sam to the ground. They rolled, fists flying, until Sam shoved her off with a knee and got back on her feet, breathing hard.

"Sloppy," Sam spat.

"Better than hiding behind your dad," Hannah shot back.

Robby fought Mikey and one other, blocking high kicks and answering with low, efficient counters. He ducked a punch, grabbed Mikey's wrist, and slammed him to the ground with a judo-style throw. The other Cobra came in with a roundhouse. Robby caught his leg midair and swept his standing foot. Two down.

Demetri stayed low, terrified but alert, dodging flying food trays and chairs. Lukas shouted for him to stay in formation.

Hawk lunged at Lukas again. They clashed hard. Fists and elbows. Lukas ducked under a high punch and nailed Hawk with a spinning back kick that flattened him. He stood over Hawk, chest rising and falling.

"Fake champion," Hawk muttered.

Then—Hawk snapped up, leapt forward—aiming not for Lukas, but for Robby.

"Robby, behind you!" Lukas yelled.

Robby spun and connected with a devastating roundhouse kick, catching Hawk mid-air and slamming him to the floor.

Silence.

The food court was wrecked. Tables overturned. Shoppers scattered.

Lukas stepped over Hawk's limp form.

"'Fake champion' my ass."

Sam walked up, holding Demetri's tray.

"We saved your chicken," she said flatly.

Demetri blinked. "Thanks."

The Cobra Kais groaned, helping each other up.

Demetri blinked. "Thanks."

The Cobra Kais groaned, helping each other up. Hawk stared daggers at Lukas as they turned to leave.

"Miguel's gonna fuck you up next time."

Hannah turned to follow them, but Lukas caught up, hand on her arm.

"We're not done."

She stared at him, jaw clenched, eyes burning—but she didn't say a word.

Not yet.

🥋

Lukas found her leaning against the stone railing outside the mall, the cool night air brushing strands of hair across her face. The Cobra Kai gi was still tied at her waist, the sleeves of her hoodie bunched at her elbows. She didn't look at him when he walked up.

"You followed me," Hannah said, flat.

"Yeah," Lukas replied, stopping beside her. "I had to."

She didn't answer.

"I just want to talk," he said.

"About what?" Her voice stayed low. "You going to tell me Cobra Kai's evil? That I should run off and wax cars with you and Mr. LaRusso?"

"No," Lukas said. "I'm not here to lecture you."

"Then what?"

"You're my best friend, Hannah," he said, quieter now. "This isn't nothing."

She turned to face him. "It's none of your business."

Lukas didn't back off. "Try me."

Hannah looked at him for a long time—long enough that he almost thought she might walk away. But something flickered behind her eyes. Something sharp. Wounded.

"You left East Valley," she said. "You got out."

"I didn't have a choice."

"I know. But once you were gone... Tyler picked me next."

Lukas's heart dropped.

"He started small," she said, voice tightening. "Snide comments. Blocking my way in the hallway. Tripping me on the stairs. But then it got worse."

She took a breath like she was bracing for impact.

"He grabbed my backpack once and emptied it out across the bus. In front of everyone. Every notebook, every pen, everything. Just... scattered. And when I tried to grab my stuff, he stepped on it."

Lukas stayed silent, jaw clenched.

"He'd whisper stuff when no one was looking. Like, 'Where's your little bodyguard now?' Or worse. Stuff I don't even want to repeat."

She looked at him, eyes hard. "One time, he followed me after school. Didn't touch me. Just walked behind me for three straight blocks. Close enough I could hear him breathing."

Lukas's fists tightened at his sides.

"I told teachers. I told the principal. No one did a damn thing. They said it wasn't 'enough to report.'" Her voice cracked, just barely. "So yeah. I joined Cobra Kai. And I'm going to make him pay."

Lukas exhaled slowly. "Hannah..."

"I don't want balance," she cut in. "I don't want breathing exercises or philosophical speeches. I want him to hurt. I want him to look over his shoulder the way I did."

He looked at her, quiet, steady. "I get it. I do."

"No, you don't."

"I might not have been there, but I know what it's like to want revenge." He paused. "Look, I don't care that you joined Cobra Kai. I mean, I care—but I get it. You obviously have your reasons."

"Glad you approve," she said, folding her arms.

"But I don't trust Hawk," Lukas said. "And I definitely don't trust Miguel."

Hannah blinked. "What?"

"You don't know them like I do," he said. "Hawk's a ticking time bomb. And Miguel—he's not who you think he is."

"Wrong," Hannah said firmly. "Eli's got a big mouth and a bigger ego, but he's loyal. He stood up for me at the dojo when no one else would. And Miguel? He trains hard. Doesn't talk behind people's backs. He's a good guy."

Lukas scoffed. "He's still pissed I beat him at All-Valley."

"Maybe," she said. "But you deserved that title, Lukas. I saw it. You fought harder. Cleaner. Smarter. Miguel knows that too—he just hasn't said it out loud yet."

Lukas looked away, biting the inside of his cheek.

"But I'm not leaving Cobra Kai," Hannah added. "So if that's what this is—don't waste your breath."

He nodded slowly, accepting it—but not liking it.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. The mall lights reflected off the pavement, distorted by a thin layer of mist.

"I'm just worried about you," he said finally.

"I know."

She didn't move. Didn't look back.

"I'll see you around, Lukas."

She walked away without waiting for him to respond.

🥋

Robby was still slightly out of breath, sweat clinging to his brow, but his smile was relaxed.

"It was like we were back at the pond," he said.

Sam laughed, her hands moving to her hips as she caught her breath. "You went left..."

"And you went right," Robby finished with a grin.

"I still can't believe how high you got off that table," she said.

Robby chuckled, shaking his head. "I had adrenaline on my side."

Lukas stood off to the side near the back wall, quietly untying his gi top. He hadn't said much since they returned. His expression was unreadable, but his silence was louder than any of their words.

Daniel walked in from the back door, his jacket slung over one shoulder. His face was equal parts concern and calm.

"Hey, hey," he said, looking between them. "Mom told me. You guys okay?"

Sam turned to him, her voice light but honest. "Yeah. Yeah, Dad, we're fine."

Daniel stepped in further, eyes landing on each of them in turn. "Good. Good." A pause. "What... what happened?"

Sam glanced at Robby, then back to her father. "They were gonna hurt Demetri. We had to do something."

Daniel raised his brows but didn't speak right away.

"Are you mad at us?" she asked.

Daniel sighed, then shook his head with a smile.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm proud of you."

Sam smiled softly, the tension in her shoulders easing.

"Karate isn't only about self-defense," Daniel continued. "It's about protecting others. You did the right thing."

He looked at all three of them.

"Just... don't give me a heart attack like that again, okay? Just because we train to fight doesn't mean I want to see you out there in one."

Then he turned toward Robby and Lukas.

"And you two... I'm glad you're part of this family."

Lukas nodded, murmuring a quiet, "Thanks, Sensei," but didn't look up.

Daniel gave Demetri a small wave, then gestured for him to follow. "Hey, come with me. Let's check your wrist, all right?"

As the two of them stepped into the office, Robby gave Lukas a look, then nudged Sam's elbow and subtly gestured toward him before heading toward the back mats.

Sam caught the cue.

Lukas stood alone, now leaning slightly against one of the wooden beams near the front of the dojo. He was staring out through the open doors toward the courtyard, jaw set, shoulders still tight.

You didn't say much in there," Sam finally said, her tone gentle.

Lukas gave a small shrug. "Guess I had a lot on my mind."

"Hannah?"

He nodded. "She's angry. Hurt. And I get it. Tyler treated her like trash after I left East Valley. Made her life hell. And Cobra Kai... gave her something to hit back with."

"She told you that?"

"Yeah." He exhaled slowly. "I don't blame her for wanting to fight back. I just... I don't like the path she's taking to get there."

Sam nodded, watching him. "I know how that feels."

He glanced at her. "You do?"

She gave a soft laugh. "Yeah. I used to think Cobra Kai made me stronger too. Like I could hit first and never get hurt again."

Lukas looked down at the ground. "That's the scary part. It does work. Until it doesn't."

A quiet pause settled between them again.

"Hey," Sam said, tilting her head toward him. "You did good today. For Demetri. You had his back when no one else would've."

"I just didn't want him to get jumped."

"Still. You stepped in."

Their eyes met again, the air between them tighter now—thicker.

Sam's voice softened. "You're not like the other guys, Lukas."

That caught him off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know." She smiled slightly. "You care too much. In a good way."

He looked at her, his gaze lingering. "Yeah, well. That's kind of the problem."

"How so?"

He hesitated, then spoke quietly. "You're Daniel LaRusso's daughter. And I already feel like I'm walking this tightrope. He's taken me in. Given me a chance. I can't—mess that up."

Sam's expression shifted, softer now, with something close to understanding. "I get it," she said. "Believe me. I just got out of something with Miguel. Like... barely. I don't think I even know where we stand now."

They both chuckled at the awkwardness of it all.

"So..." Lukas leaned his shoulder against the post behind him. "We're both kinda emotionally unavailable disasters?"

"Yup," Sam said, laughing. "Big time."

He smiled at her, a real one this time. And for a brief second, the world quieted around them.

Then Sam leaned in, just a little—close enough that he could smell the faint coconut of her shampoo. Lukas's breath hitched. His head tilted slightly. Their lips were inches apart, eyes locked in silent invitation.

And then—

"Hey! Pizza's here!" Amanda's voice rang out from inside the house. "Come get some before your dad eats all the breadsticks!"

Sam jolted back with a breathy laugh, and Lukas rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushed.

"Well... perfect timing," he muttered.

"Classic Mom," Sam said with a grin, but there was something flickering behind her eyes—something half-expectant, half-nervous.

Lukas stood slowly, glancing down at her. "This... probably would've been a bad idea, anyway."

Sam stood too, brushing off her jeans. "Yeah. Definitely."

They looked at each other.

"I mean, the whole—my-dad's-your-mentor thing," Lukas added.

"And I just broke up with my ex," Sam said, nodding.

"At the karate tournament," Lukas added again.

They both broke into quiet laughter.

"Things are awkward now," Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah," Lukas echoed.

They exchanged a glance—one of those glances that said everything without needing to say it aloud—and then walked back inside, side by side. Not a couple. Not quite friends. Something undefined... but real.

🥋

Hannah sat at her desk, textbook open in front of her, the soft scratch of her pen the only sound in the room. Her parents had asked her to come down for dinner an hour ago. She said she wasn't hungry. She lied.

Her phone buzzed.

Hawk:
"We're finishing the fight tonight. You in?"

She blinked at the message.
The fight? What fight?

She stared for a second longer before typing back.

Hannah:
"What the hell does that mean?"

It took him a minute to respond. When he did, it was blunt.

Hawk:
"We're hitting Miyagi-Do. Payback."

A sick twist curled in her stomach. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temple. Hitting Miyagi-Do? What the hell were they thinking?

But before she could reason herself out of it, she was already standing up. Already slipping on her jacket. Already heading for the door without saying a word to her mom or dad. Her keys jingled in her hand like the sound of a warning bell.

Something about the silence in the house made her want to run. So she did.

The streetlights cast long shadows across the road as Hannah drove. The sky was dark, the kind of quiet blackness that made everything feel heavier. As the engine hummed beneath her, her mind started racing faster than the wheels of her car.

This wasn't like what happened with Tyler. That had been personal. And she'd been pushed. Repeatedly. Lukas might've left East Valley, but Tyler hadn't let her forget where she came from. The whispered names in the hallway. The times he "accidentally" knocked her books out of her hands. The time he called her horrendous names in front of the entire lunchroom, just loud enough for the whole table to hear.

That was different. That had been about survival.

But this?

Vandalizing a place like Miyagi-Do—Lukas's dojo, a place that actually tried to stand for something?

She didn't know what to call this.

Reckless? Stupid? Cruel?

Still, she kept driving.

When she finally pulled up to the empty lot where Hawk told her to meet, the air felt colder than it had back home. She recognized Rickenberger's beat-up truck, and Mikey's rusted Civic idling nearby. She parked across the street, engine still running, hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.

She watched as the boys laughed, shoved each other, and piled into the truck. Hawk was last to climb in, still wearing that damn smug grin like he was proud of whatever came next. None of them noticed her. They drove off, tires screeching, taillights glowing red as they turned onto the main road.

Hannah stayed where she was.

She could still follow them. She could catch up. She could make herself part of it. A piece of something bigger, meaner, more powerful.

But the truth was, she didn't want to be part of it. Not like that.

That wasn't her.

Not really.

Hannah exhaled, deeply. Her heart thudded as she took her foot off the brake, switched on her blinker—not toward Miyagi-Do, but the other way.

She turned and drove home.

Not because she forgave Tyler.

Not because she didn't have her own anger.

But because spray-painting walls and smashing windows wasn't going to change what he did to her.

And it sure as hell wasn't going to bring her peace.

As she disappeared down the road, her phone buzzed again. She didn't look.

Not tonight.