i'm 𝟬𝟬𝟱, proving yourself

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im so sorry for all the notifications but please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up bt votes not its hard for my motivation!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Sasha stood at the center of the Sekai Taikai arena, her feet planted firmly on the cool, polished floor. It was so much larger than she'd imagined, an endless stretch of bright lights, roaring crowds, and the hum of cameras zooming in to capture every tense expression. The air itself felt charged, vibrating with the collective energy of thousands of spectators. The noise wasn't just loud-it was a tidal wave pressing in on her, crashing through her bones, rattling her chest with every cheer, every chant echoing from the stands.

The crowd seemed to pulse, their excitement a living thing, but to Sasha, it all felt strangely muted, like she was hearing it from underwater. The world had narrowed to this arena, this moment, as if nothing existed beyond the white boundary lines painted beneath her feet. Her heart hammered so hard it felt like it might shake loose from her ribcage, the pulse of adrenaline sharp and insistent. But she held her ground. She couldn't afford to feel small here. Not now.

Her eyes shifted toward the Cobra Kai team across the arena. They were a wall of black and red, standing tall with an almost militaristic precision, their expressions cold and calculated. Among them, Kwon's gaze locked onto her again, the corner of his lips quirking up into a familiar, teasing smirk. And then, like clockwork, he winked.

Heat flooded Sasha's cheeks despite herself, the color rising before she could stop it. She tore her gaze away, focusing instead on the faces of her own team. But when she looked across the floor, her heart sank.

Sam.

Her older sister stood just beyond the boundary, arms crossed, expression stone-cold and unflinching. The glare she shot Sasha cut deeper than any blow she'd ever taken in a fight. There was no need for words-Sam's message was clear. Prove yourself. Or don't bother coming home.

The lights above flared even brighter, catching the metallic sheen of the massive digital leaderboard looming over the arena. The neon names blazed in bold, unforgiving colors, each one representing a dojo that had clawed its way through the brutal rounds leading to this very moment. Sasha's eyes traced them, heart catching when she found her own: Miyagi-Do. The letters glowed stark white, almost defiant against the other dojo names.

Her stomach twisted. Number 12.

It wasn't a bad ranking-but it wasn't enough. Not against the names listed higher. Her eyes drifted downward, following the bracket until they landed on the opposing name. Dublin Thunder. Rank 5.

A cold weight settled in her chest. Dublin Thunder was fast. Ruthless. They had dominated every round with unrelenting force. And now...they were next.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Sasha flinched, blinking hard as the moment snapped back into focus. Devon was beside her, face tense but steady, her grip firm.

"Focus, Sasha," she murmured, nodding toward the board. "We're up against number five. They're tough-but we're tougher. We've got this."

Sasha nodded, jaw clenched as she tried to absorb Devon's confidence, let it replace the gnawing fear swelling inside her.

The announcer's voice broke through the cacophony, deep and commanding as it echoed through the arena.

"We have now entered the elimination phase of the Sekai Taikai!"

The words felt heavier than she expected. The crowd quieted, the tension coiling tighter, pressing against her skin. Sasha could feel it, pressing into her ribs, making her breath catch in her throat.

"The dojos who do not win tonight...will be heading home."

The hush in the arena was deafening, as though the weight of those words had stolen the air from the room. Sasha could hear her own heartbeat thudding louder than before, could feel the slight tremor in her fingers. This was it. No second chances.

She forced herself to inhale slowly. Steady. Controlled.

The announcer continued, voice lowering with each word. "The rankings will now determine your matchups. Number one will face number sixteen. Number two against fifteen. And so on. Fighters...prepare yourselves."

Sasha's eyes darted back to the board. Her stomach twisted as she saw 12 vs. 5 blinking in harsh neon light.

Before she could let that dread sink in, a mechanical clunk echoed through the arena, drawing every eye toward the ceiling. A massive platform was descending from above, its edges lined with padded barriers, the surface gleaming under the intense lights. It hovered for a moment, then lowered with a loud thud, the impact reverberating through the floor beneath Sasha's feet.

The stage was set.

The announcer raised his hands again.

"The platform will be the battleground. Two fighters from each dojo will enter the arena at once. If a fighter falls from the platform, they are eliminated. But their teammate may climb up to take their place. However...the fight will not stop. If your teammate fails to enter the platform in time, you will face a two-on-one scenario. The last team standing...wins."

The weight of that last sentence hung in the air, heavier than the lights blazing down on her. Sasha felt her chest tighten, her hands curling into fists. The idea of being left alone, vulnerable, on that platform-it sent a shiver through her.

But she wouldn't let that happen.

Not today.

The crowd exploded once more, the noise swelling as the first fighters were called to the stage. Sasha felt Devon's grip on her shoulder tighten.

"You ready for this?" Devon asked quietly, searching her face.

Sasha swallowed hard, nodding, though the knot in her stomach remained.

"You have to be ready. No fear. No hesitation. This is what you've trained for."

But as her gaze flicked once more to Sam, still glaring from across the arena, she felt the pressure build all over again.

I can't let her down. I can't let myself down.

The Sekai Taikai had begun. And Sasha had no choice but to prove she belonged.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

The arena of the Sekai Taikai seemed to pulse with the collective heartbeat of thousands. The massive, circular stadium loomed around the platform, its towering walls bathed in shifting hues of twilight as the lights above dimmed, one by one, until the sharp glow faded into a hushed, spectral dusk. Shadows stretched long and jagged across the mat, their edges trembling with the flicker of the remaining spotlights-like the arena itself was holding its breath, caught between moments, as if the entire world had narrowed to this one stage.

The roar of the crowd softened into a deep, rhythmic hum, steady but building, as though an unstoppable wave was preparing to break. It pressed in from all sides, a living force of energy, crackling through the air and vibrating in Sasha's chest. The tension was so thick it was almost physical, tightening around her ribs like an invisible band. Her pulse quickened, pounding against her eardrums in time with the crowd's slow crescendo. She drew in a breath, sharp and measured, forcing the rising tide of adrenaline into submission. Steady. Focused. Unshakable.

The announcer's voice split through the static, amplified and commanding, echoing off the cavernous walls with a clarity that felt almost unnatural against the charged silence.

"Next on the platform-Dublin Thunder versus Miyagi-Do!"

The sound hit Sasha like a hammer to the chest. A tidal wave of sound followed, the crowd exploding into a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the stadium. The vibrations pressed against her skin, rattling her bones as the noise became a relentless surge.

For a split second, the world felt like it was spinning out of control-too loud, too bright, too much. But Sasha held her ground, anchoring herself with the steady rhythm of her breath. Her fists clenched at her sides, the fabric of her gi twisting beneath her tightening fingers. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her temples, in her fingertips, in every fiber of her body. But she did not flinch.

This was it. The moment they had been training for. The point of no return.

Sasha's gaze locked on the Dublin Thunder team already assembled across the platform. They stood tall and collected, a wall of quiet intensity, clad in black gis with gold accents that seemed to catch the dim light like flames licking along the fabric. Their expressions were steeled, not cocky but calculating, their stances balanced yet brimming with restrained power. Each subtle shift in their posture spoke volumes-the controlled rise and fall of their breathing, the way their eyes narrowed as they scanned Miyagi-Do, measuring, judging.

Her muscles coiled, tension building in her core. She wasn't intimidated, but the challenge was undeniable. And she welcomed it.

Then she felt it-a presence beside her.

Johnny.

His approach was steady, his normally loose stride marked by a rare stiffness, the weight of responsibility pressing into every line of his posture. The usual smirk, the easy sarcasm-gone. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed just enough to show the strain he was keeping locked beneath the surface. This wasn't just a tournament anymore. This was legacy. Redemption.

He stopped just short of the team, the subtle shift of his stance commanding attention without a word. And when he spoke, it was quiet but unwavering, cutting through the lingering noise like a blade.

"Alright, bring it in."

The team obeyed without question, closing the distance until they formed a tight circle. The roaring crowd, the echoing arena, the looming presence of their opponents-all of it seemed to blur, shrinking away as Johnny became the sole focus.

Sasha studied him carefully, the rare seriousness in his voice unsettling in its honesty.

"I got something to say."

No bravado. No snark. Just quiet intensity.

"It's been a tough day," he admitted, voice rough like he was dragging the words out from somewhere deep. "Probably shouldn't have been such a dick to all of you."

Sasha blinked. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard those words from him before-at least not this genuine. Around her, the others seemed equally caught off guard, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his tone.

He looked at them-not just as students but as fighters, as people. He saw them.

"But I need you to know... I believe in you. Every single one of you. I believe with everything I've got that you can win this. You've trained for this. You're ready."

His eyes met Sasha's then. For the first time since they had arrived, she felt it-not just expectation but trust. Unspoken, but heavy with meaning. He believed in her. In all of them.

Sasha swallowed the lump rising in her throat, her shoulders squaring beneath the weight of it.

"You guys know balance better than me," Johnny continued, his expression softening with a flicker of self-awareness. "So remember everything Sensei LaRusso taught you. Stay focused. Stay grounded. You don't have to be perfect. Just don't quit."

A beat passed. The silence was thick with something unspoken.

Johnny's gaze shifted, hardening once more with purpose.

"I'm thinking we start strong with our captains. Sam. Robby."

Sasha's stomach dropped.

Her lips parted, but the words never came. She felt the heat behind her eyes before the emotion had a name. She was the girls' captain, not Sam. She had trained for this. Earned it.

Her gaze snapped to Sam, who was already stepping forward, tying her headband with a practiced ease. She didn't even look back at Sasha, but there was something in the smirk that curled at the corner of her lips-half triumphant, half condescending.

Sasha's fists clenched tighter.

"Devon, you're next. Hawk, Demetri," Johnny continued, oblivious to the storm building behind Sasha's expression. "Sasha and Miguel, you're our anchors."

Anchor.

Sasha's heart pounded louder, her breath coming a fraction faster despite her efforts to stay calm. Anchor. As if she was a backup plan. As if she was only useful if the others couldn't pull through.

A scoff slipped past her lips, quiet but unmistakable.

Sam heard it.

Their eyes met. Sam's brow arched, her smirk deepening just enough for Sasha to catch the message loud and clear.

Stay in your place.

Sasha's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. Not yet.

The team bowed in unison, the synchronized movement snapping her back to the present, grounding her once more.

But beneath the bow, beneath the ritual... Sasha's blood burned.

Prove them wrong.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Sasha's eyes stayed locked on Sam and Robby as they stood side by side at the center of the Sekai Taikai platform, the polished wood glistening under the harsh overhead lights. The air was electric, every breath the crowd took a collective inhale of tension as the match teetered on the brink of beginning. Rows of spectators, from devoted fans to skeptical judges, leaned forward in their seats, waiting-no, aching-for the clash to start. The energy was palpable, the anticipation humming like static against Sasha's skin, each second stretching tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

Sam and Robby were Miyagi-Do's first line of defense, the ones entrusted to set the tone for this crucial round, and Sasha could feel the invisible weight pressing heavily on their shoulders. They had trained for this. Prepared relentlessly. Yet the pressure felt as if it were growing with every heartbeat, suffocating even from a distance.

"Come on, LaRusso! Let's go, Robby!" Johnny's voice cut through the tense silence, louder than the murmur of the crowd, sharp like a blade. His usual bravado echoed across the arena, but Sasha heard the edge beneath it-the protective concern he tried to mask, the desperate hope riding on those words. His fists were clenched at his sides, his posture taut, and though he tried to play the role of confident sensei, his eyes betrayed the truth. This was more than just a match.

"You guys got this!" Johnny added, the volume rising, but Sasha rolled her eyes despite the pounding in her chest. Of course, Johnny couldn't help but make a spectacle of himself.

The referee raised his hand. A whistle pierced the air.

The fight began.

For a few, fleeting moments, everything seemed under control. Sam was a blur of grace and focus, her stance low and precise, every block and strike fluid, almost like a dance. Robby matched her intensity, his movements fierce and unrelenting, eyes narrowed with the kind of determination Sasha had always admired. They were synchronized, years of training blending their attacks into something seamless. Perfect.

But perfection never lasted long.

It happened so fast Sasha almost missed it-a flicker of motion on the edge of the platform. One of the Dublin Thunder girls, lightning-fast, lashed out. A sharp, calculated punch drove directly into Robby's midsection with a sickening thud. He staggered back, eyes wide, breath stolen from his lungs as the impact rippled through his core. Sasha's stomach dropped.

"Come on, Robby-focus!" she whispered under her breath, fingers gripping the edge of her seat.

But it was too late.

The Dublin fighter pivoted, spinning into a devastating roundhouse kick. The force was brutal, and it connected perfectly, sending Robby hurtling off the edge of the platform. He hit the mats below with a heavy thud, the match official raising a hand to signal his elimination.

The entire exchange couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds. Ten seconds-and in that blink of an eye, everything shifted.

Sasha's breath caught in her throat as the realization sank in. The crowd gasped, the noise a tidal wave surging around her, but she barely heard it. All she could focus on was Robby, winded and sprawled on the mats, clutching his side in visible pain. His balance had been completely off-and Sasha knew exactly why.

Tory.

The tension, the distraction-it had all been weighing on him for weeks. Sasha could feel it, that unspoken storm cloud lingering over his head, poisoning his focus. And now it had cost them.

But there was no time to dwell.

Devon was already stepping onto the platform, her eyes narrowed, shoulders squared, radiating a fire so fierce it practically burned through the tension. She didn't hesitate. Didn't falter. The instant the whistle blew, she moved like a force of nature.

Her leg shot out in a perfectly executed side kick, striking one of the Dublin Thunder fighters square in the chest. The girl staggered back, flailing-and fell off the platform entirely.

The crowd roared, the sound crashing like waves, but Sasha's focus remained razor-sharp. One win. A single point of redemption. But it wasn't enough to balance the scales.

Sam, still reeling from Robby's defeat, was vulnerable. Sasha could see it-the slight hesitation in her guard, the fracture in her concentration. And Dublin Thunder wasn't the kind of team to miss an opportunity.

Another girl lunged, faster than Sasha anticipated. A hard, sweeping kick collided with Sam's ribs, and the impact sent her tumbling backward. Her feet slipped-no-fell-off the edge.

"Sam!" Sasha's voice escaped before she could stop it.

But it was over.

Sam hit the mats below, eyes wide, the shock plain on her face.

Gone. Eliminated. Just like that.

Sasha's hands clenched into tight fists, her nails biting into her palms. No. Not now. Not like this. She felt the bitter sting of frustration crawl up her spine. Devon had managed to hold her ground, but they were losing control, and fast.

Next up was Hawk.

His steps echoed as he climbed onto the platform, his usual swagger dampened, replaced with a cold, coiled intensity Sasha barely recognized. The tension between him and Demetri-festering all day-was as obvious as the bruises left on the mats.

Devon wasn't done yet.

Even as Hawk prepared to fight, she made a desperate final grab, latching onto a Dublin fighter's wrist and using the momentum to drag her down with her. They both tumbled off the platform in a heap. Another elimination.

Hawk's expression tightened.

"Nice sacrifice! Badass, Lee!" Johnny hollered, trying to keep the morale from crumbling entirely. Sasha could tell he was proud-but also concerned. And Hawk? His frustration was practically radiating off of him, palpable even from a distance.

Demetri's turn came next.

Sasha could see it-the conflict clouding his eyes. He wasn't just fighting Dublin Thunder anymore. He was still wrestling with whatever had broken between him and Hawk.

The whistle blew.

Demetri stepped forward, a burst of movement as he executed a sweeping kick-only it caught Hawk too. Both Hawk and the Dublin fighter went flying off the platform in a tangled mess of limbs.

"Shit," Sasha whispered under her breath.

Hawk hit the mats hard, glaring up at Demetri as he recovered. And the moment Demetri turned back, distracted for a heartbeat too long, the remaining Dublin fighter took full advantage, slamming into him and sending him off the platform too.

The crowd was a cacophony of noise. Cheers. Gasps. But all Sasha could feel was dread.

Only two fighters left.

Miguel turned to her, his expression carved from steel. "Watch how it's done, Robby. We're not losing this."

Sasha barely had time to react before he grabbed her hand, pulling her forward with him.

This was it.

The final stretch.

Sasha took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of the crowd. No more holding back.

Miguel and Sasha stood at the center of the Sekai Taikai platform, side by side, their bodies tense, hearts pounding in sync with the steady roar of the crowd. Sweat dripped from their brows, dampening their gis as they squared off against the last two fighters from Dublin Thunder. The arena lights overhead cast a harsh, brilliant glow on the mat, illuminating every bruise, every breath, every determined glare exchanged between the final competitors.

The two Dublin fighters-both imposing, skilled, and visibly exhausted-held their ground across from Miguel and Sasha. One was a tall, muscular boy with a buzz cut, his arms already red from blocking dozens of strikes. The other was a fierce-looking girl with a tightly braided ponytail, her sharp eyes locked onto Sasha like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

Sasha's breath came in shallow bursts, her ribs aching from the relentless exchanges that had led to this moment. She could feel the tremble in her legs, but she forced herself to stay steady, shifting into a grounded stance as Daniel had taught her. She risked a glance at Miguel beside her.

Miguel's expression was calm-too calm. But she knew him well enough to catch the subtle clench of his jaw, the tightness in his fists. He was holding back the same exhaustion she felt, pushing through it. His eyes met hers for a heartbeat, dark and focused.

"We finish this together," he said, voice low but certain.

Sasha nodded. "Together."

The referee's whistle cut through the tension.

Instantly, Miguel launched forward, targeting the male Dublin fighter with blistering speed. His movements were a blur-low, controlled, and precise. He shot in with a quick feint, dipping to the side before landing a sharp front kick to the chest. The impact forced the Dublin fighter back a step, but he recovered quickly, retaliating with a powerful roundhouse kick aimed high.

Miguel barely ducked in time, the air whistling past his face.

Meanwhile, Sasha had no time to watch Miguel's fight unfold-her own opponent struck the moment the whistle blew. The girl lunged with a fierce series of punches aimed straight at Sasha's face. Sasha pivoted, deflecting the first two with sharp blocks, but the third blow connected, a sharp jab to her shoulder that made her stumble back. Pain flared, but she gritted her teeth, planting her feet to absorb the impact.

Focus. Stay grounded. Breathe.

Sasha's opponent didn't let up. The Dublin girl advanced with a spinning kick aimed high. Sasha ducked beneath it, her heart hammering as she countered with a sweeping leg kick. Her foot caught the girl's ankle, sending her stumbling back but not down. The girl recovered quickly, spinning into a defensive stance.

At the same time, Miguel was locked in a brutal exchange with the male fighter. The Dublin boy delivered a powerful backfist strike that Miguel barely blocked in time, the impact reverberating through his arm. Miguel responded with a sharp elbow to the ribs, doubling his opponent over, but the boy twisted into a sudden leg sweep.

Miguel fell hard onto his back with a loud thud.

Sasha caught it from the corner of her eye.

"Miguel!" she shouted, but her opponent didn't give her a second to help him.

The Dublin girl lunged forward, sending a palm strike toward Sasha's chest. Sasha caught her wrist, twisting with practiced precision, but the girl retaliated with a brutal knee aimed for her stomach. Sasha barely twisted out of the way, but the edge of the knee clipped her side, knocking the wind from her lungs. She stumbled, teeth gritted.

Miguel, groaning, forced himself back to his feet, wincing but steady. His opponent pressed the advantage, launching a side kick straight for Miguel's ribs. But Miguel shifted with the impact, absorbing it and twisting the boy's leg with a hooking block. He yanked hard, unbalancing the Dublin fighter and using the momentum to land a hard ridge-hand strike to his opponent's chest.

The boy staggered back, clutching his ribs, but still standing.

They were running out of time. Sasha knew it.

Their opponents weren't just tough-they were relentless. And they were stronger than she and Miguel, at least physically. If this kept dragging on, fatigue would be their downfall.

She caught Miguel's eyes again. He nodded, reading her thoughts perfectly.

Time to end this. Together.

Miguel suddenly surged toward his opponent again, faking a punch to the chest before twisting low and sweeping his leg around in a spinning hook kick. The Dublin fighter barely blocked it, but that was the distraction Miguel needed. He dropped low, hooked his opponent's leg mid-block, and yanked, sending the boy crashing to the mat.

"Stay down," Miguel muttered under his breath, panting.

Meanwhile, Sasha faced off against the Dublin girl, both circling each other carefully now. The girl was breathing hard, sweat dripping from her face, but her stance was still sharp-still dangerous.

Sasha took a deep breath, then faked a jab toward the girl's shoulder. The girl reacted instantly, blocking high-just as Sasha had predicted.

And that's when Sasha spun.

Her leg whipped around in a powerful tornado kick, the strike connecting with the girl's side. The Dublin fighter gasped, staggering back, and Sasha pressed her advantage. She followed up with a sharp front kick to the chest, the impact sending her opponent skidding dangerously close to the platform's edge.

The girl's footing slipped-just barely-but she recovered, growling as she charged back in desperation.

Miguel appeared beside Sasha in an instant, and without a word, they moved in perfect sync.

Miguel feinted left, drawing the Dublin fighter's attention. Sasha struck from the right, landing a swift, controlled back kick to her ribs. The girl buckled-Miguel followed up with a palm strike that finally sent her toppling over the edge of the platform.

The whistle blew.

For a heartbeat, the arena was silent.

Then the crowd erupted.

Deafening cheers and wild applause shook the walls, the sound crashing over Sasha like a wave. Her chest heaved, adrenaline still pulsing through her veins as she stared at the empty mat, the realization sinking in.

They'd won.

The announcer's voice boomed across the speakers.

"Incredible performance from Miyagi-Do's Miguel Diaz and Sasha LaRusso! Their victory sends Miyagi-Do to the next round!"

Miguel turned toward her, grinning through the exhaustion, and without thinking, Sasha threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. He hugged her back just as tightly, both of them too out of breath to say a word.

When they finally broke apart, Sasha let out a triumphant yell, punching the air. Her eyes scanned the crowd, heart still pounding, until they landed on Kwon.

He was there, clapping for her, smiling-really smiling, like he was proud of her.

Sasha exhaled, chest aching from the rush of the fight, the cheers, and the sheer weight of the moment. She glanced back at Miguel, who was still catching his breath but grinning.

They'd done it.

Together.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the hotel's air conditioning the only sound as Sasha made her way toward her room, the tournament adrenaline finally starting to wear off. Her duffel bag hung heavily from her shoulder, the ache in her muscles settling deeper with every step. She felt wrung out, physically and emotionally-like her body was catching up to the reality of everything that had just happened.

They'd won.

Not just won-dominated.

Miguel had been amazing, and together, they'd fought as a perfect team, outmaneuvering the last two Dublin fighters in perfect sync. But now that the crowd's deafening cheers had faded into a distant memory, Sasha could barely process it. The fight played on a loop in her head: every block, every strike, every moment leading up to that final blow.

Her hand tightened on the room keycard as she paused in front of her door, pressing her lips together in an effort to steady herself. The weight of everything they'd worked for had finally caught up with her. She should have felt satisfied-proud-but mostly, she just felt... drained.

She slid the keycard into the slot. The light blinked red.

Sasha sighed, pulling it out and trying again.

Red.

Seriously?

"Yo, LaRusso!"

The voice echoed down the hallway, loud enough to break her focus.

Sasha turned, her heart skipping-though she'd never admit it-at the sight of Kwon striding toward her from the far end of the hall. His Cobra Kai jacket hung open, hands stuffed lazily in his pockets as he approached, his grin as sharp and self-assured as ever.

There was something about the way he carried himself-like he knew everyone was watching, even when no one actually was. The same smug, cocky energy he brought into every fight.

And somehow, it still caught her off guard.

Sasha blinked, straightening her posture. "Oh, hey. What are you still doing up?"

Kwon shrugged, stopping a few steps away, leaning slightly against the wall like he had all the time in the world. "Jet lag. Plus, I figured I'd see if I ran into tonight's MVP."

Sasha blinked. "MVP?"

He gave her a look, lips curving into a smirk like it should've been obvious.

"Uh, yeah. You. Obviously. Diaz was solid, but you-" He made a vague punching gesture. "That last kick? Savage. You guys wrecked those Dublin dudes. Honestly, I was kind of impressed."

Sasha felt her face flush, heat creeping up the back of her neck before she could stop it. Praise was one thing-she could handle that. But coming from him, with that teasing drawl? It made her heart race for reasons she didn't entirely understand.

"Uh, thanks," she managed, shifting her duffel bag to her other shoulder as a way to occupy her hands. "Miguel and I just... work well together, I guess. We've been training hard for this."

Kwon nodded, his grin still firmly in place. "Yeah, yeah. All that teamwork, honor, Miyagi-Do stuff. Super wholesome." He leaned a little closer, voice dropping into a playful drawl. "But I'm just sayin'... you didn't need Diaz out there. You had it handled."

Sasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a half-laugh. "Right. Because fighting a two-on-one sounds like a great idea."

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it," he shot back, shrugging. "I mean, not everyone could pull off what you did. Some people crack under pressure."

There was a beat where the teasing softened-just slightly.

"Seriously, though," he added, voice quieter but still carrying that confident edge. "You earned it. You were awesome out there."

Sasha blinked, startled for a second by how sincere he sounded. It was... disarming.

"Thanks, Kwon," she said, softer this time. "That actually means a lot."

There was a brief pause where the energy shifted-like maybe, for once, they weren't just trading sarcastic jabs.

And then, of course, he ruined it.

"So," Kwon said, smirk fully returning as he shifted back to his usual self-assured stance. "Since you're clearly on a winning streak... what do you say we keep it going? You. Me. Dinner. After the next round."

Sasha blinked. "What?"

Kwon shrugged, casual as ever. "C'mon, LaRusso. Don't make me beg. It's just dinner. Classy too. I'm talkin' sushi, maybe even a place with tablecloths. Unless you're more of a buffet girl?"

Sasha's brain felt like it short-circuited for a second. Was he... seriously asking her out?

Her lips parted, struggling to find a response. "I-I'm really focused on the tournament right now. I don't think-"

Kwon raised a brow, cutting her off with that same smug grin. "Focus? It's dinner, not a Vegas wedding. Besides, you already proved you're a champ. You deserve a celebration, right? Live a little."

Sasha stared at him, torn between exasperation and... something else.

She should say no.

She wanted to say no.

And yet...

"I'll think about it," she finally muttered, glancing back at her door and swiping the keycard again.

Ksshht-green light.

Kwon's grin widened as she opened the door. "That's not a no, LaRusso."

"Goodnight, Kwon," she said firmly, trying not to smile.

"Night, MVP."

The door clicked shut behind her, but Sasha could still feel his smirk lingering in the back of her mind.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

THEIR DATE NEXT CHAPTER🤭
i have an idea and y'all might hate me..

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) PLEASE JUST STOP BEING A GHOST READER!! ITS ANNOYING!! PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE. ITS NOT THAT HARD!!! PLEASE! please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters

im so sorry for all the notifications but please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up bt votes not its hard for my motivation!