chapter sixty-four:
❛ strike last (1) ❜

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The air inside the old dojo felt heavier than usual, thick with something electric, like a storm about to break. It was more than just the dust hanging in the stillness-it was the weight of history pressing down on them. The worn-out mats beneath Clementine and Miguel's feet had seen it all: victories, defeats, friendships forged in battle, and rivalries that had drawn blood. The walls, stripped of Cobra Kai's once-proud banners, still bore the ghostly outlines of where they had hung, a silent testament to the power and corruption that had seeped into this place over the years. The mirrors along the side reflected their faces, streaked with dust and time, casting them as warriors caught between past and present.

Clementine could hear Johnny's boots scuffing against the mat as he paced before them, each step measured, deliberate. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his brows drawn together in a deep, unreadable expression. He wasn't just their sensei-he was the reason they were standing here now, trained, sharpened, ready. For Miguel, this dojo had been the birthplace of his transformation, the place where a scrawny kid with asthma had turned into a champion. For Clementine, it had been something even more profound-proof that she belonged somewhere, that she could fight, that she had fire inside her veins.

Johnny stopped abruptly, turning to face them. His blue eyes were sharp, intense, searching theirs for something unspoken. A flicker of something crossed his face-pride, maybe, or the weight of knowing what came next. He took a slow breath before speaking.

"This is where it all started," he said, his voice steady and sure. His gaze flicked between them. "Diaz, you were my first student. Cinnamon Girl, I was your first..." He hesitated for a fraction of a second before smirking. "Actually, LaRusso was your first teacher, back when you were all about that Miyagi-Do crap."

Clementine laughed, shaking her head. "You love bringing that up."

Johnny shrugged. "What can I say? It's a damn good story."

The humor faded just as quickly as it had come, replaced by something heavier. "I taught you both the same style of karate that was taught to me," Johnny continued, his tone hardening. "The kind that doesn't back down. The kind that makes you a fighter, not just in a tournament, but in life."

A shadow flickered in his expression, a darkness that hinted at everything that had happened since-betrayals, losses, the war that had nearly consumed them all. "We've been through a lot of Cobra Kai bullshit since then," he said, his voice dipping lower, grittier. "You know that better than anyone."

Clementine's fists clenched at her sides, a rush of bitter memories flashing through her mind. Kreese twisting their teachings into something cruel. Silver pushing them to their breaking points. Friends turning into enemies.

Beside her, Miguel swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He had lived through it too. Felt every high and every devastating low.

"But none of that matters now."

Johnny's voice snapped them back to the present, cutting through the haze of the past like a blade. His stance shifted, shoulders squared, energy crackling around him like an unrelenting force.

"Because this is our Cobra Kai." His words rang through the dojo, firm and absolute. "Not Kreese's. Not Silver's. Ours. And tomorrow, we're gonna show the world that nobody strikes harder than us."

The words hit Clementine like a spark to dry kindling, igniting something deep inside her chest. This was why she had pushed herself past her limits. Why she had endured every bruise, every setback, every moment of doubt. Miguel's energy shifted too, his body practically humming with adrenaline. The weight of everything they had fought for had led to this moment.

Johnny's smirk returned, just barely tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that understood?"

There was no hesitation.

"Yes, Sensei!" Their voices rang out, sharp and unshakable, filling the hollowed-out dojo with something real, something alive.

Johnny nodded in approval, rolling his shoulders back like he was already stepping into battle. His gaze lingered on them for a second longer, as if memorizing the warriors they had become. Then, with that signature Johnny Lawrence confidence, he grinned.

"Good. Now let's show these international assholes how we do things in the Valley."

Clementine exchanged a glance with Miguel, her pulse hammering in her ears. No more distractions. No more doubts.

Tomorrow, they weren't just fighting for themselves.

They were fighting for everything this dojo had ever stood for.

Clementine's fists struck the training dummy with relentless force, each impact sending a dull ache up her arms, but she barely registered the pain. She was too focused, too locked in. Her breath came in sharp, controlled exhales, her heart hammering a steady rhythm of determination. The dim overhead light flickered, casting jagged shadows against the peeling walls of the old dojo. The familiar scent of sweat and worn-out mats clung to the air, a reminder of how many hours had been spent here-training, fighting, becoming stronger.

Behind her, Johnny Lawrence stood with his arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes tracking her movements like a hawk. His slow, measured pacing made her shoulders tense in anticipation of the inevitable critique.

"C'mon, Cinnamon Girl, that all you got?" His voice cut through the room, edged with that signature Cobra Kai bite that never failed to get under her skin. "I've seen soccer moms hit harder. If you're just here for a light workout, I can grab you some pink dumbbells from Target."

Clementine's jaw tightened. She took another swing, her knuckles slamming into the dummy's torso. The impact sent it rocking back slightly, but it wasn't enough.

Johnny scoffed. "That wouldn't knock the wind out of a twelve-year-old. You want to win tomorrow? You want to step onto that mat and remind the world who the hell we are? Then stop pulling your punches!"

The words ignited something sharp inside her. She widened her stance, digging her feet into the mat, grounding herself. She inhaled, focused, and then-BAM. Her fist struck with a force that sent a shockwave up her arm.

Johnny nodded, but his expression remained unimpressed. "Better. But you think your opponent's gonna let you just stand there and get your footing? You hesitate, you lose. You hold back, you get put on your ass."

Her frustration boiled over. She didn't need him to tell her that. She knew what was at stake. Tomorrow wasn't just another tournament. It was a reckoning. It was about proving that Cobra Kai wasn't just a name, that it still meant something. That she and Miguel weren't just fighters-they were the fighters. The ones who refused to go down, no matter how many times they were knocked back.

She exhaled sharply and launched another attack. Right hook. Left hook. Knee strike. Each movement sharper, faster, more precise.

Johnny stepped in, his voice rising. "That's it! Keep going! You think your opponent's gonna stop just 'cause you're tired? You think they're gonna take a water break while you catch your breath? No! You strike first, strike hard-"

Clementine gritted her teeth, pivoted on her heel, and delivered a roundhouse kick that sent the dummy lurching off its base before snapping back into place.

Johnny's grin widened. "No mercy!"

Clementine barely registered the words. Her body was humming, her muscles burning, but she didn't stop. She didn't want to stop. She threw another punch. Then another. The weight of exhaustion pressed against her limbs, but she pushed through it. Sweat trickled down her temple, soaking into her gi, but she welcomed it.

Johnny clapped his hands together. "Now that is Cobra Kai." He smirked, tilting his head as he eyed her.

Clementine shot him a glare, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, rolling her shoulders before turning back to the dummy.

"Again?" she asked, already lifting her fists.

Johnny's smirk widened. "Damn right."

And with that, she struck again, harder than before. Because tomorrow, when she stepped onto that mat-there would be no hesitation. No mercy. Only victory.

Clementine took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back as she positioned herself in front of the ball machine. The dojo was eerily quiet except for the low mechanical hum of the contraption as it powered up, its inner gears clicking in preparation to launch a barrage of rubber balls at her. The familiar scent of sweat, wood polish, and aged tatami mats filled the air, grounding her. The overhead lights cast a faint glow, illuminating the well-worn training space, where so many fights had been won, and just as many lessons had been learned.

She widened her stance, planting her feet firmly on the mat. Hands raised, fingers loose but ready, she focused. She had done this drill before-so many times she could probably do it in her sleep. But something about today felt different. Heavier. Maybe it was the knowledge that this wasn't just about training anymore. Maybe it was the pressure of everything leading up to this moment-all the pain, all the fights, all the lessons she had absorbed whether she wanted to or not.

Or maybe it was because Daniel LaRusso and Sam were standing just a few feet away, watching. Not with doubt, not with hesitation, but with something she rarely saw from them-pride.

The first ball fired.

Clementine's body reacted instantly, her right hand sweeping in a circular motion-wax on-redirecting the ball away from her chest. The next one came just as fast, aimed lower, and she instinctively deflected it to the side-wax off.

Her movements were smooth, instinctive, embedded into her muscles from hours of training. She could almost hear Daniel's voice in her head, echoing the countless lessons he had drilled into them back at Miyagi-Do: "Trust the technique. Let your body do the work."

Another ball launched, faster this time. Clementine barely had a second to react, but her left hand shot up-wax on-knocking it away before it could slam into her shoulder. Her breathing stayed steady, her body locked into the rhythm of the drill.

From the sidelines, Daniel nodded approvingly, arms crossed over his chest. "Looks like someone's been paying attention."

Sam smirked beside him. "And here I thought she was rolling her eyes every time we did this."

Clementine flicked a glance their way, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, but she didn't let herself get distracted. Another ball shot toward her-wax off. Then another-wax on. Faster. Harder.

She was in the zone now. The machine whirred as it picked up speed, launching ball after ball in quick succession. Her arms moved in perfect, circular motions, every deflection controlled and precise. She barely had time to breathe between each hit, but she didn't falter. Every movement was instinct, every block a testament to the countless hours she had spent training, even when she had doubted it would ever be useful.

And then, without thinking, she did something different.

The next ball flew toward her face, and instead of simply redirecting it, she twisted her wrist slightly-just enough to control its direction. It shot back toward the machine, bouncing off with a clunk and making the entire contraption rattle.

Daniel raised his eyebrows, impressed. A slow grin spread across his face. "Not bad."

Clementine exhaled sharply, stepping back and shaking out her arms. Her breath came out slightly uneven, but there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, rolling her shoulders. "Maybe Miyagi-Do's not completely useless."

Sam crossed her arms, feigning offense. "High praise coming from you."

Daniel stepped forward, resting a firm hand on Clementine's shoulder. "You might have Cobra Kai in you, but deep down, you've got some Miyagi-Do too."

Clementine looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as she let those words settle in. Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn't just one thing. Maybe she had taken the best of both worlds and made them her own.

She took another deep breath, then turned back to the machine.

"Let's go again."

The dojo was buzzing with energy, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead casting a sharp glow over the mats. Clementine tightened the straps on her gloves, flexing her fingers before rolling her shoulders back. Across from her, Tory paced slightly, eyes locked onto her like a predator sizing up its prey. There was no hostility in her stare, but there was challenge-Tory didn't half-ass anything, and she wasn't about to go easy on her now.

Johnny stood between them, arms crossed over his chest, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, listen up. No pulling punches. No whining. And if you're gonna cry about getting hit, go join a yoga class." His gaze flicked to Clementine, and the smirk deepened. "That means you, Cinnamon Girl."

Clementine groaned. "Really? Again with that?"

Johnny ignored her, already stepping back. "Ready?"

Tory cracked her knuckles. "Always."

Clementine simply nodded, shifting into her stance.

"Go!" Johnny barked.

Tory exploded forward first, wasting no time with hesitations. Clementine barely had a second to react before a sharp jab came flying toward her face. She dodged just in time, feeling the rush of air as Tory's fist narrowly missed her cheek.

Fast.

Clementine retaliated with a quick sidekick aimed at Tory's ribs, but Tory blocked it with ease, countering with a sweeping leg that nearly knocked her off balance. Clementine twisted her body, landing on the balls of her feet as she reset her stance.

"C'mon, Cinnamon Girl, you waiting for a damn invitation?" Johnny called out.

Clementine exhaled sharply and pressed forward, throwing a quick one-two combo that Tory dodged, but she followed it up with a knee strike that connected lightly with her opponent's stomach. Tory grunted but didn't back down-she never did.

"Better," Tory admitted, before launching into a spinning kick that Clementine barely had time to block. The impact rattled through her forearms, but she stood her ground.

They circled each other now, testing, waiting. Clementine could feel the adrenaline buzzing in her veins, the sheer focus narrowing her world down to this moment-the movements, the footwork, the weight shifts. Tory lunged again, this time faking left before swinging a punch toward her ribs. Clementine anticipated it, twisting at the last second to grab Tory's arm and use her own momentum to flip her over.

Tory hit the mat with a sharp thud but rolled immediately back onto her feet, a grin flashing across her face. "Alright, I'll give you that one."

Johnny let out a laugh. "Damn, maybe you can fight."

Clementine smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "You sound surprised."

Tory didn't give her time to bask in it-she rushed forward again, their sparring continuing in a blur of strikes, blocks, and counters. The impact of every hit sent shockwaves through her arms, her legs burning with the effort, but Clementine didn't back down. Neither of them did.

The fight wasn't about winning. It was about proving something-to Johnny, to each other, but most of all, to themselves.

And Clementine wasn't about to let herself lose.

The dojo smelled like sweat and old vinyl mats, the air thick with anticipation as Clementine squared her shoulders, staring down the wooden board in front of her. Hawk held it steady, arms locked, his expression unreadable but expectant. The weight of his gaze only added to the pressure curling in her stomach.

"You sure you can do this, Cinnamon Girl?" Johnny's voice rang out from the sidelines, his signature smirk already in place. "Wouldn't want you breaking a nail or anything."

Clementine shot him a look, rolling out her wrists. "Funny. Maybe after I break this, I'll aim for your face next."

Hawk snorted. "I'd pay to see that."

"Alright, focus." Daniel stepped closer, his voice calmer but firm. "It's not about strength, it's about precision. Aim past the board, not at it. Trust your technique."

She took a deep breath, letting the words settle. This wasn't just about breaking a board. It was about proving to herself that she could.

Clementine planted her feet, bending her knees slightly, her dominant hand curling into a tight fist. The world around her seemed to shrink-Hawk's stance, Johnny's smug expression, Daniel's calm guidance-all of it faded as she locked onto her target.

She exhaled. Then struck.

Her fist drove forward with all the power in her body, the sharp crack of splintering wood ringing through the dojo as the board split clean in two. The pieces hit the mat with a dull thud.

For a second, there was silence.

Then-

"Hell yeah, Clem!" Hawk dropped the broken halves and clapped her on the back, grinning. "Knew you had it in you."

Johnny let out a low whistle, arms crossed. "Not bad, Cinnamon Girl. Maybe you're not as soft as you look."

Clementine smirked, shaking out her hand as the sting settled in. "Told you."

Daniel gave her an approving nod. "That was perfect."

She flexed her fingers, a slow grin spreading across her face. The sting in her knuckles was sharp, but beneath it was something stronger-something electric.

Confidence.

The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of cars passing by on the main road. The air carried the faint scent of the dojo's wooden floors and sweat, a reminder of the countless hours Clementine had spent training. She stood on the porch just outside, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the empty parking lot. The Sekai Taikai finals were tomorrow. Every part of her training had led to this moment, and yet, her stomach twisted with unease.

Footsteps approached behind her-uneven, measured. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"You're doing that thing again," Robby's voice came, teasing but gentle.

Clementine glanced over her shoulder, her lips tugging into a small smile despite the nerves twisting inside her. "What thing?"

He stopped beside her, leaning against the railing, his crutches supporting his weight. "That thing where you stare off into the distance like you're contemplating the meaning of life." He tilted his head. "Or, y'know, stressing over something."

Clementine huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "I wouldn't say stressing..."

Robby arched a brow, clearly not buying it. "C'mon, Clem. What's up?"

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing. "It's stupid."

"I doubt that."

She exhaled, her gaze dropping to the worn planks beneath her feet. "I'm just... nervous." The words felt heavier out loud. "I know I've trained for this. I know I'm ready, but it's Sekai Taikai, Robby. This isn't just some local tournament-this is the biggest competition I've ever been a part of. And I keep thinking... what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?"

Robby frowned, shifting his weight slightly as he adjusted his crutches. "Clem..."

"I mean, everyone's been training so hard for this. Johnny, Daniel, Chozen-they've all put so much into getting us here. I don't want to be the one who screws it up." Her voice wavered slightly, and she bit the inside of her cheek. "What if I'm not good enough?"

Robby's jaw tightened. "Don't do that."

She blinked at him. "Do what?"

"Doubt yourself." His voice was firm but kind. "You've worked harder than anyone, Clem. I've watched you push yourself every day, even when you didn't have to. You belong in that tournament just as much as anyone else."

Clementine swallowed, shifting on her feet. She wanted to believe him.

Robby must have seen the hesitation in her eyes because he softened, reaching for her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, warm and grounding. "And you're not alone," he continued. "We're all in this together. No matter what happens, I'm gonna be in your corner, cheering you on." A smirk tugged at his lips. "Even if I have to be on crutches while I do it."

That pulled a genuine laugh from her, breaking through the tension in her chest. She turned toward him fully, her grip tightening around his hand. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

He smirked. "Yeah, well... it's kinda my job, isn't it?"

Clementine shook her head, smiling as she leaned into him just slightly. The weight of her nerves wasn't entirely gone, but it felt lighter somehow. Less suffocating.

"Thanks, Robby."

His grin widened. "Anytime, Cinnamon Girl."

ASH SPEAKS!!!

spliting ep14 into 2/3 chapters

robby and clem<3

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE. IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!! PLEASE JUST VOTE!!!!

PLEASE STOP BEING FREAKIN A GHOST READER!!! PLEASE VOTE! PLEASE!!!!! stop being ghost readers!!!! its really annoying!!!

STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!
i'm sorry for all the notifications but 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 but votes are not... its hard for my motivation!