chapter fifty:
❛ zen master ❜

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The dojo hummed with nervous energy, every breath held like a storm waiting to break. Sensei Barnes's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the charged atmosphere. "Top 12, get ready!"

The fighters-twelve of the dojo's best-stood shoulder to shoulder in a disciplined line, battered and bruised from earlier rounds. Their wounds were marks of resilience, badges of pride. They were warriors, each of them fueled by the same hunger: victory. Barcelona and the Sekai Taikai loomed on the horizon, close enough to taste, yet still out of reach. The weight of the stakes sat heavy on every shoulder, pressing down until each fighter was taut like a bowstring.

Arizona stood among them, her pulse thrumming in her ears as she watched Barnes pace before the line. The flags tied to her belt flapped slightly when she moved, colorful targets that painted her as both predator and prey. She felt the gaze of her fellow competitors-hard stares measuring her worth, testing her resolve. But Arizona didn't flinch. She remained still, her breathing slow and even, centered as a stone. Be like water, she reminded herself.

Barnes's steps were deliberate, each one loud and purposeful as his eyes raked over the group, a predator appraising its meal. He exuded danger, his expression daring anyone to show a hint of fear. "Today's challenge is Battle Royale," he announced, his voice as cold and unyielding as steel. "The rules are simple: Protect your flags. Steal your opponents'. Lose your flags, and you're out. The ones with the most flags at the end will advance to Barcelona. The rest will be judged on performance."

His gaze narrowed, slicing through the group. "Impress me-or don't bother showing up tomorrow."

Arizona's fists tightened at her sides, the flags tied to her belt seeming heavier now. Bright and defiant, they taunted her. Win or lose, they're up for grabs. Her breath steadied as the strategy began to form in her mind. This wasn't a free-for-all. She wouldn't win through brute force; this fight would demand more-patience, focus, and clarity.

Her gaze flickered to Miguel a few spots down the line. His expression was unreadable-calm, collected, a picture of quiet intensity. But when his eyes met hers, something softened in the quiet glance they shared. It was fleeting, but she caught it-a small, unspoken promise. He wouldn't take it easy on her. She wouldn't want him to.

"You have two minutes," Barnes barked. The room tensed, a dozen bodies locking into readiness, shoulders straightening, and muscles coiling like springs.

Arizona exhaled deeply, letting the moment settle over her like a cloak. The calm washed through her as she centered herself, a force of stillness in the rising storm. She repeated the lessons of her training like a mantra: Focus. Flow. Do not fight force with force.

"Fight!"

The dojo exploded into chaos.

Bodies collided, the thundering sound of feet and fists echoing through the room. The mat became a battlefield of flying limbs, desperate grabs, and fierce shouts. Flags were ripped away in a whirlwind of attacks and counterattacks, each competitor scrambling to defend their own while snatching someone else's.

Arizona didn't lunge in like the others. She moved carefully, slipping through openings like water weaving through stone. A boy rushed her from the side, but she pivoted smoothly, deflecting his grab with a sweeping block and sending him stumbling forward. He turned to charge again, but she stepped aside, using his own momentum to guide him past her.

Her first flag came easily. She slipped low, swept her leg across the mat, and unbalanced a distracted fighter, yanking the bright marker free from his belt before he even hit the ground. Arizona's movements were fluid and intentional. While others wasted energy in brawls, she stayed focused-defensive, elusive, and patient.

Her success drew attention, and that's when Miguel came for her.

She sensed him before she saw him-his steady approach through the fray. Turning quickly, she met his gaze just as he launched himself forward, reaching for her flags with a playful smirk. She twisted to the side, their bodies barely brushing past one another. "Really?" she muttered under her breath.

Miguel grinned. "Can't blame me for trying."

He moved in again, quicker this time, forcing her to block his strike with a fluid upward motion of her forearm. She didn't lash out; she redirected. Every move was clean, measured. She let his momentum carry him forward and spun around him, snatching one of his flags with a flick of her wrist.

"Gotcha," she murmured, tucking it into her belt as Miguel laughed, breathless.

"Alright, alright," he said, regaining his footing. "Not bad."

But Miguel wasn't done. His demeanor shifted-still teasing, but sharper now, more focused. He feinted to the right, forcing her to step back, and his hand darted forward. Before she could stop him, one of her own flags was yanked free.

Arizona's breath hitched as she snapped back into position. She felt the sting of losing ground, but the old frustration didn't surface. Stay calm. Stay clear.

Miguel came at her again, quick and agile, but Arizona was ready this time. Her body moved with the rhythm of kata-each block and counter flowing seamlessly into the next. Miguel grabbed for her belt again, but she stepped into him, trapping his arm with her own in a smooth maneuver. For a moment, they were locked, both breathing hard, staring at each other.

"You've been holding back on me," Miguel said, a little breathless.

Arizona smiled faintly, stepping back and releasing him. "I told you I've been working on my defense."

Miguel's grin was full of pride, but he didn't relent. He came for her flags one last time, but Arizona moved with precision. She blocked his hand, stepped past him, and in one swift motion, snatched another flag from his belt.

"Two to one," she said lightly.

The dojo echoed with heavy breathing and shifting bodies, the air thick with the aftermath of the chaotic skirmishes. Miguel gave Arizona a shake of his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Okay, I'll admit-this is getting embarrassing."

Arizona allowed herself a small, knowing smile in return. "Not my fault you're easy to read."

Miguel let out a low chuckle, hands on his hips, but before the moment could linger, Arizona shifted her focus. There were more flags to claim, and she wasn't about to lose her momentum.

Her eyes landed on Devon across the mat. Devon Lee was sharp and fierce-a fighter who blended her Eagle Fang aggression with fast, technical strikes. Arizona admired her, but that didn't mean she would go easy.

Devon noticed Arizona's approach and tensed, her eyes narrowing. "Come for me, huh?" she said, adjusting her stance.

Arizona didn't respond right away, stepping lightly into her own balanced position. "It's not personal," she said evenly.

"Could've fooled me," Devon shot back before launching herself forward.

Devon came at Arizona hard, her strikes fast and relentless. Her aggression was Devon's strength, but Arizona stayed calm, blocking each move with fluid precision. Where Devon pushed, Arizona pulled back; where Devon struck, Arizona redirected. Devon's frustration grew with every missed grab, her breathing becoming more ragged.

Finally, Arizona saw her opening. Devon went for a quick grab at her belt, and Arizona pivoted smoothly, slipping behind her and swiping a flag clean off Devon's belt before she could react.

"Are you kidding me?" Devon snapped, spinning around to glare at her.

Arizona held up the flag with a slight tilt of her head, her tone calm. "You're leaving yourself too open. You're fighting me like I'm Miguel."

Devon gritted her teeth. "Oh, shut up," she hissed, launching herself again. This time she fought even harder, her strikes carrying an edge of anger. Arizona met her force with steady movements, blocking and shifting away, always staying one step ahead. It was frustratingly effortless-at least, that's how it looked to Devon.

Another clean step to the side, another flag gone.

"Seriously, Arizona?" Devon barked, clenching her fists. "What are you, a ghost? How do you keep doing that?"

Arizona remained calm, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It's not about fighting harder. You're trying to force it. Breathe."

"Don't tell me to breathe," Devon shot back, but her frustration was starting to betray her movements. Another attempt, another dodge-Arizona plucked the last flag from Devon's belt like a leaf off a tree.

Devon let out a frustrated curse under her breath, throwing her hands in the air. "Unbelievable."

Arizona gave her a small, serene shrug. "You're quick, Devon, but you're too focused on winning the moment. Focus on the fight instead."

Devon glared at her but didn't say anything more, retreating to gather herself.

Arizona didn't linger. Her gaze found her next opponent: Demetri. He stood a little ways off, adjusting his glasses with one hand as he noticed her walking toward him. His lips pressed into a nervous line, but he lifted his hands into a ready stance. "Alright, I knew this was coming," he muttered. "Let's just get it over with."

Arizona smiled faintly. "No offense, Demetri."

"None taken," he replied. "I'm pretty sure I'm the warm-up act for whoever's next."

Arizona shifted into her stance and waited. Demetri took the first step forward-not with Devon's aggression or Miguel's confidence, but with careful strikes. He was cautious, analyzing her movements as he tried to predict where she'd go next.

To his credit, Demetri made her work for it. He wasn't reckless; his blocks were solid, and he used his reach well to keep Arizona at bay for a time. Arizona had to adjust, circling around him to avoid giving him the upper hand.

When she finally made her move, it was clean. She blocked a strike to her side, stepped in close, and snatched one of his flags before pulling back again.

Demetri sighed. "Yeah, I felt that one coming."

"You're improving," Arizona replied, her tone genuine.

Demetri raised a brow, brushing his hands off on his gi. "I'd believe that if I wasn't down a flag right now."

The two reset, Demetri's eyes sharper as he approached her again. He wasn't angry like Devon; he was determined. This time, he kept her at a greater distance, forcing Arizona to be more patient. She waited for the moment when his stance opened just slightly, then struck. Another flag.

Demetri let out a short, exasperated laugh. "You really don't let up, huh?"

Arizona straightened, holding the two flags she'd claimed from him. "You fight fair. I respect that."

"Yeah, and look where it got me," Demetri replied dryly, though there was no real bitterness in his voice. "But hey, thanks for the compliment. I think."

Arizona offered him a small nod before moving on, her focus sharpening as she surveyed the remaining fighters. Her heart was steady, her mind clear. She'd fought smart, fought clean-and she wasn't finished yet.

The sharp blast of Sensei Barnes's whistle cut through the chaos like a blade, freezing every fighter in their tracks. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of labored breathing and the faint shuffling of feet as competitors steadied themselves. The mats were scattered with sweat and the echoes of their clashes hung thick in the air.

"Let's see those flags!" Barnes's barked command rang out, harsh and unforgiving. His tone carried the weight of finality, and no one dared to linger.

Arizona, chest heaving, wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her pulse still pounded in her ears, but a quiet satisfaction settled into her bones as she stepped forward. Her belt, heavy with the colorful flags she'd fought to claim, jingled softly as she moved-each flag a trophy, proof that her strategy, her patience, and her control had carried her through the chaos.

With steady hands, she untied the bundle and knelt on the mat, laying out her collection. The bright squares of cloth fanned across the floor like a personal victory banner, each one earned fair and square. Arizona straightened, trying to keep her expression neutral, though pride flickered in her chest.

Sensei Barnes prowled the floor with his clipboard, his sharp eyes scanning each fighter's haul. When he reached Arizona, his gaze narrowed slightly as he counted. His lips twitched-just barely-into the faintest shadow of a smirk. It wasn't much, but from Barnes, it felt monumental. "Impressive," he muttered, voice low enough that only she could hear.

Arizona allowed herself a single deep breath, centering herself as the tension in her shoulders eased.

Nearby, Miguel stepped forward to reveal his own collection, a respectable haul, though not quite as large. His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at Arizona's flags. "How did you even manage that?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and amusement.

Arizona turned her head, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the corners of her mouth lifting into an innocent smile. "Just lucky, I guess," she teased. The gleam in her eye told him the truth-luck had nothing to do with it.

Miguel huffed, shaking his head with a good-natured chuckle. "Yeah, right. Remind me never to underestimate you again."

Around the room, other fighters presented their flags, though the weight of their exhaustion-and for some, disappointment-was impossible to miss. Kenny, scowling and wiping his face, stared hard at his modest haul. Devon's frustration still lingered in her stiff shoulders, though she forced herself to stand tall. Demetri adjusted his glasses and sighed under his breath, looking between his flags as though wondering what he could have done differently. Eli, meanwhile, gave an exaggerated shrug as if to say, "What can you do?" despite the flicker of frustration on his face.

Barnes's sharp gaze swept over the group one final time before he stopped, clipboard clutched in his hand like a weapon. The room stilled as he spoke, his words cutting through the air. "Alright, here's the deal. The top five are clear: Arizona, Tory, Robby, Sam, and Miguel." He paused for emphasis, his words ringing like a gong. "Congratulations. You're going to Barcelona."

Arizona's heart soared, the weight of the moment crashing over her like a wave. She blinked, stunned for only a second before her lips curled into a grin.

Across the room, Sam caught her eye, her own smile radiant with triumph. "Nice work," Sam said, holding out her fist. Arizona bumped it with a small laugh, the two sharing a moment of mutual victory.

Before she could react further, Arizona felt strong arms wrap around her waist. She barely had time to squeal before Miguel lifted her off the ground and spun her in a celebratory circle. "Miguel!" she shrieked through a laugh, swatting lightly at his shoulder as he finally set her down.

"You did it," he said with pride, his smile wide and unwavering.

"We did it," Arizona corrected with a grin.

Nearby, Tory, arms crossed and expression impassive, shot Arizona a small nod of acknowledgment. Robby, standing a little farther down, gave a grin of his own before turning back to adjust his belt.

Barnes's voice cut through again, turning everyone's attention back to him. "As for the rest of you-Eli, Devon, Demetri, and Kenny-you're tied." His gaze moved sharply across the group of four, their expressions a mixture of hope and anxiety. "I'll review my notes and re-tally tonight. I'll announce the final two spots in the morning."

Kenny's jaw tightened, his frustration evident, though he gave a single nod of understanding. Devon clenched her fists at her sides but held her head high, refusing to let disappointment show. Demetri let out a breath, glancing down at his feet as he adjusted his glasses again. "Great. More suspense," he muttered under his breath.

Eli, standing near the edge, rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Guess we just get to sweat about it all night, huh?" But despite his words, his posture straightened, and determination hardened in his gaze.

The room was quiet now, the energy shifting as the fighters absorbed the outcome. For Arizona, it was victory-but she knew it wasn't just hers. She caught Miguel's eye again, the shared understanding between them unspoken but powerful: this was just the beginning.

Barcelona was waiting.

Arizona slouched deeper into the worn couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she absentmindedly flipped through the TV channels. Beside her, Diego was a ball of focused energy, his fingers flying over the buttons of his controller as his character zipped across the screen in Super Mario Brothers. The only sounds were the chiptune soundtrack and Diego's occasional grumbles when he missed a jump.

The vibration of her phone on the armrest broke the quiet. Arizona glanced over, spotting Dylan on the screen. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she swiped to answer. "Hey, Dyl."

"Arizona!" Dylan's voice came through, bright and familiar. "I was just thinking-how'd training go today?"

Arizona exhaled, running a hand through her hair as the memories of the day came flooding back. "Oh, man, where do I even start? Sensei Barnes had us do this insane Battle Royale challenge. Flags everywhere, people throwing punches, grabbing belts-it was total chaos."

"Sounds intense," Dylan said, his tone amused but laced with sympathy. "Did you survive it?"

Arizona smirked, stealing a glance at Diego, who was still deeply engrossed in his game. "Not only did I survive, I crushed it. I ended up with the most flags-took Miguel's, Devon's, and Demetri's." There was a proud edge to her voice, though she tried to play it cool.

"Wait, Miguel's? Your boyfriend? How'd you manage that?" Dylan asked, a hint of awe in his voice.

Arizona chuckled softly. "Fair and square. He got one of mine, too, but let's not dwell on that. I just... kept my focus. Stayed in the zone." She paused, her voice softening. "Wish you were there, though. It's not the same without you."

There was a brief silence before Dylan's voice came back, quieter this time. "I don't know, Arizona. I don't want to steal your thunder. You guys are all so good, and I'm still figuring things out with karate. Plus, it's probably too late for me to join something like that anyway."

Arizona's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned her head back against the couch. Her tone shifted into something calm, deliberate-like water settling in a still pond. "It's never too late, Dylan. Karate isn't about where everyone else is-it's about where you are. It's a journey, remember? Even Sensei Barnes says progress matters more than perfection. You'll get there if you start walking the path. Doesn't matter when you begin."

Dylan let out a small laugh. "You always know how to say the right thing. You sound like a Zen master."

"I try," Arizona teased with a grin, but before she could say more, her phone was yanked right out of her hand.

"Hey!" she protested, but Diego ignored her, already holding the phone to his ear with one hand while his other kept his Mario character jumping across platforms.

"Yo, Dylan!" Diego said, sounding way too casual for someone who just hijacked a phone call. "What's up, man?"

"Uh, hey, Diego," Dylan replied, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement. "Didn't know you were there."

"I'm always here," Diego said dramatically, his eyes still locked on the game as he avoided a row of fireballs. "So, listen-how are things with you and Sam now? You making any progress?"

Arizona's jaw dropped as she stared at her brother, half-scandalized and half-incredulous. "Diego!" she hissed, trying to snatch the phone back, but Diego dodged her swipes without missing a beat in his game.

On the other end, Dylan sighed but sounded oddly grateful. "You know what? Better, actually. I took your advice. You were right about not pushing things too fast and just letting it happen naturally."

Arizona froze mid-swipe, her brows furrowing. "Wait a minute," she said slowly, her voice dripping with disbelief. "You gave Dylan advice? Since when do you give relationship advice?"

Diego finally glanced over at her, a smug grin plastered across his face, though his fingers never stopped moving on the controller. "What? You talk about Miguel and all your problems so much, I just... picked up on stuff. Call it a talent."

Arizona gaped at him. "Are you serious right now?"

"Relationship whisperer," Diego added with a shrug, eyes back on the screen.

On the other end, Dylan was outright laughing. "Don't knock it, Arizona. The kid's got some wisdom. You'd be surprised."

Arizona pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, "This is ridiculous." Then, louder, she said, "Alright, Dylan, I gotta go before my wise little brother gets a bigger ego."

"Hey, I'm still on the call!" Diego protested, but Arizona swiped the phone back, pressing it to her ear.

"Gotta go, Dylan," she said with a grin. "I have to beat my brother at Super Mario Brothers and remind him who the real champion is around here."

Diego shot her a sideways look, the challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Oh, you're on, Arizona. I've been practicing."

"You wish," she shot back, tossing her phone onto the armrest before snatching up her own controller. She scooted closer to Diego, her body already tensing for the battle ahead. "You're about to get schooled, little man."

Diego grinned without looking at her. "Talk's cheap. Let's see you back it up."

The screen flashed as the game restarted, the bright colors and familiar music filling the room. Arizona's focus sharpened, her competitive streak igniting as she leaned forward, fingers ready to mash buttons.

"I'm not losing to you, Diego," she warned, her voice teasing but firm.

Diego smirked, his eyes locked on the game. "We'll see, Arizona."

As the game kicked off, the living room erupted with laughter, playful trash talk, and the sounds of their controllers clicking furiously. For now, there were no dojos or tournaments, no pressure to prove herself-just Arizona and her little brother, locked in a battle that mattered only to them.

The crisp air of early dawn clung to Arizona's skin as she walked alongside Miguel and the rest of the Miyagi-Do students. Their sneakers crunched over the forest floor, leaves still slick with dew as the sunlight filtered weakly through the canopy of towering trees. The forest was alive but hushed, as if waking up with them: birds chirped softly from the branches above, and the wind stirred faint whispers in the leaves. Every so often, Arizona caught the distant murmur of the creek they were heading toward, its waters bubbling over stones in a rhythm that contrasted with the quiet tension among the group.

Arizona stuffed her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, the faint weight of nerves pressing at her chest. She shot a glance at Miguel walking beside her, his brow furrowed, his jaw set in quiet determination. There was something calming about his presence, but it didn't erase the anxiety swirling in her stomach. This wasn't just another morning drill. Today felt like a defining moment, and the anticipation tightened in her chest.

The group emerged from the trees onto a small clearing by the creek. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the pale morning light as it tumbled gently over smooth rocks. A weathered picnic table sat at the center of the clearing, and atop it stood Sensei Barnes, his broad stance and sharp gaze cutting an imposing figure against the serenity of the forest. His arms were crossed, shoulders squared, and his stare pinned each student as they approached.

Miguel let out a quiet breath beside her. "He looks like he means business today," he muttered.

Arizona nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching. "When doesn't he?"

The group huddled closer together, their breath visible in the cold morning air. Eli stood near Demetri, both of them exchanging a look of uncertainty, while Sam and Devon remained quiet but alert. The tension was almost palpable.

"Good morning," Barnes said suddenly, his gravelly voice slicing through the quiet like a whip. "At least for now."

Arizona straightened instinctively, her pulse kicking up. Barnes's tone always carried a weight that left no room for nonsense.

He motioned for everyone to gather in, and they did, forming a loose semi-circle around the table. Barnes scanned the group, his eyes sharp and assessing. "Is everyone here?"

Daniel LaRusso stepped forward from the edge of the clearing, his expression calm but wary. "Yeah, this is everyone," he said firmly.

Barnes nodded once, clasping his hands behind his back. He let a silence settle over the clearing, and in that stillness, Arizona could hear the creek burbling just a few feet away. Then he cleared his throat-a soft sound, but enough to command everyone's full attention.

"Last night," Barnes began, his tone measured and deliberate, "I reviewed my notes. I went over every detail to make sure the remaining five got a fair shake."

Arizona's stomach twisted. She could feel Miguel shift slightly beside her, sensing the same thing she did. This is it. This is when they'd find out who made the cut. She held her breath, bracing herself.

"But," Barnes said, his voice hardening, "I've decided it's too close to call."

A ripple of confusion passed through the group. Eli furrowed his brow, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. "Wait-what does that mean?" he demanded.

Demetri hesitated, then tentatively raised his hand like they were still in school. "Uh, Sensei Barnes?" he asked nervously. "What happens if, say, two people hypothetically find a flag at the same time?"

Barnes turned his sharp gaze on Demetri, who shrank back slightly. "You fight for it," Barnes replied simply, his voice devoid of sympathy.

Daniel frowned and stepped forward, his concern evident. "Hold on-are there refs out there? Someone to step in if things get too heated?"

Barnes's jaw tightened, and he shook his head. "No. They're on their own."

Arizona's stomach dropped slightly at the finality in his tone. Beside her, Miguel's hands flexed at his sides, his gaze fixed on the forest ahead.

Daniel opened his mouth to protest again, but before he could speak, Johnny Lawrence stepped in. "It can't get more objective than this, LaRusso. Even Barnes isn't judging this one," Johnny said, clearly satisfied with the challenge's no-holds-barred nature.

Barnes's lips twitched in the faintest of smirks, but it was gone just as quickly. He looked back at the students, his gaze like steel. "Winning is everything, plain and simple. No refs. No excuses. Two flags are waiting deep in the forest. Whoever brings them back... wins."

A hush fell over the clearing. Arizona felt the weight of his words settle heavily on her shoulders. Winning wasn't going to come from clean techniques or thoughtful strategy alone-it would take grit. This wasn't just a test of skill; it was a test of survival.

Barnes clapped his hands together suddenly, the sharp sound breaking the tension like a gunshot. "You've got ten minutes," he barked. "Stretch. Use the restroom. Call your mothers. Do whatever you need to do to get your head in the game. When you get back, it's go time."

The group dispersed slowly, some murmuring amongst themselves while others moved in silence. Eli turned to Demetri, the two of them whispering anxiously, while Sam walked off a few feet to stretch her arms. Devon paced back and forth, clearly working through his nerves.

Arizona froze mid-step as sharp voices cut through the usual hum of Miyagi-Do's training grounds. She turned her head just in time to see Eli and Demetri going at it-something that hadn't happened in a long, long time. The sight of it hit her with a sense of déjà vu. The last time they'd argued like this, Eli had been in full Red Hulk mode. It had been messy then, and it looked like it was about to get messy now.

Her brows knitted as she approached, careful not to draw too much attention to herself just yet. The tension between the two was so thick it felt like you could slice it.

"You want to go to school with Kyler?" Demetri asked, his voice laced with disbelief and disdain.

Eli looked visibly offended, shaking his head quickly. "What? No, no. God, no," he said, as if the very idea made him nauseous. "The party just... it made me realize there's a whole wide world out there, all right? I still might apply to MIT. Later." His voice softened a little at the end, almost as if he was convincing himself as much as Demetri.

Demetri's scoff cut through the air like a whip. "Okay, well, you do realize that your chances go down without Early Action, right? You get that?" His tone was biting, condescending, and Arizona winced, knowing that wasn't going to sit well with Eli.

"I don't appreciate the condescension," Eli shot back, his shoulders tensing and his voice tight with restraint.

"And I don't appreciate you turning into a moron," Demetri snapped, his words hitting like a punch.

Arizona's mouth fell open slightly, and she stopped a few paces away. "Whoa," she mumbled to herself. She was definitely on Eli's side now.

"At least I'm not an overbearing control freak!" Eli fired back, raising his voice for the first time. His face was red, his frustration boiling over. "Your obsession with MIT is so freaking annoying!"

Arizona's eyes widened in shock. The words hung in the air like smoke, heavy and stifling.

Demetri's face shifted from anger to something more wounded, though he masked it with brittle sarcasm. "Annoying? I'm... okay. All right. Well, I promise not to annoy you anymore. How about that?" His voice was cold and tight as he turned on his heel, already beginning to walk away.

"Hey!" Arizona called out sharply, stepping forward to place herself between them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa-hold up!"

Both boys stopped. Demetri's face was pinched with irritation, while Eli just looked tired and frustrated.

"Are you two seriously doing this right now?" Arizona said, her voice calm but firm as her gaze flicked between them. "You're friends. Friends fight, sure, but this? You're both taking cheap shots, and it's not okay."

Demetri exhaled loudly through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, here we go," he muttered.

"What?" Arizona frowned, crossing her arms as she turned to him.

"You, with your whole 'zen master' routine," Demetri said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "God, do you ever stop? It's so freaking annoying now. Like, what are you, the next Mr. Miyagi?"

Arizona blinked, momentarily stunned by his words. "What the hell is wrong with you, Demetri?"

"What's wrong with me?" Demetri shot back, his voice louder now. "You act like you're floating on some cloud above the rest of us with all your deep, zen crap. It's ridiculous." He mocked her nickname in an exaggerated voice. "Oh, look, here comes Zen Master Arizona to bless us all with her infinite wisdom."

"Do you have a stick up your ass or something?" Arizona snapped, her calm demeanor cracking as she glared at him.

Demetri smirked bitterly. "Maybe I do, but at least I'm not acting like I have all the answers. Newsflash, Arizona-half of us are trying to figure our lives out without a lecture from you."

"Hey, back off," Eli interjected, stepping closer to Arizona and glaring at Demetri. His voice was low but firm. "She's just trying to help. You don't have to be a jerk about it."

Demetri rolled his eyes, his face a mask of frustration and hurt he wasn't willing to admit. Without another word, he turned on his heel and flipped them off over his shoulder as he walked away.

Arizona watched him disappear, her lips pressed into a thin line. She inhaled deeply through her nose, forcing herself to remain calm even as the sting of his words lingered in her chest. Don't let him get to you. Breathe.

"You okay?" Eli asked, his voice softer now.

Arizona turned to him, forcing a small smile as she exhaled slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine," she said, though her voice was quieter. "I'm not gonna let him into my head."

Eli studied her carefully before offering a small, sympathetic nod. "What he said back there was... really shitty. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's not about me." She gave him a pointed look, her tone turning gentler. "What about you? Are you okay?"

Eli shrugged, though it was clear the argument had rattled him. "I'll be fine." He hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So... you heard? I didn't apply."

Arizona's expression softened further. "Eli, it's okay. You've got time to figure it out. And for what it's worth? You're one of the smartest people I know. You'll get there."

Eli gave her a small, grateful smile, though his shoulders still sagged slightly. "Thanks, Arizona."

"Anytime," she replied, her voice steady and sincere.

They stood there for a moment in the quiet, the tension lingering but softer now, like smoke beginning to clear. Arizona looked toward where Demetri had disappeared, her face calm once more. Whatever had gotten into him, she wasn't going to let it knock her off balance. Not today.

The sun hung low on the horizon, its golden rays filtering through the branches of the surrounding trees and casting long, dappled shadows across the clearing. The air was thick, the anticipation practically humming as the remaining competitors gathered at the edge of the woods. This was it-the final challenge that would determine who would join Arizona, Sam, Tory, Miguel, and Robby on the world stage at the prestigious Sekai Taikai tournament in Barcelona. Every breath seemed to hold weight, every shift of movement charged with importance. The stakes had never felt higher.

Arizona stood with Miguel, her arms crossed as her sharp gaze swept over the group assembling at the starting line. Devon, Kenny, Demetri, and Eli were ready, muscles tense, their faces mixtures of steely focus and nervous energy. Beyond them, the crowd of students and friends began to settle into place, small murmurs and whispers ebbing into silence. For a moment, even the quiet sounds of nature-the rustling leaves, the distant chirp of a bird-seemed to hush, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Stepping forward with deliberate calm, Sensei Barnes cut an imposing figure as he strode to the front. The light hit his face in such a way that it seemed to harden the lines of his expression, and his voice boomed out as he raised his hand.

"This is it. Last chance," Barnes announced, his tone commanding. "Give it everything you've got. GO!"

His hand dropped like a hammer.

The four competitors shot forward, a blur of movement as they raced into the forest. The pounding rhythm of their footsteps filled the clearing, then quickly faded into the trees as the crowd erupted into excited chatter. Arizona shifted her weight onto one leg, settling onto the grass and leaning back on her hands. Beside her, Robby stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed with focus. Miguel stayed loose, hands tucked in his pockets, but even his easygoing expression couldn't hide the intensity in his eyes.

"My money's on Eli," Arizona said casually, watching the woods as though willing the outcome to appear. A knowing smirk tugged at her lips. "He's got the most experience."

Robby turned his head sharply, his loyalty flaring up like a lit match. "Not even Kenny? You really think Eli's gonna take it?"

Arizona raised a brow, unbothered by his tone. "Kenny's quick. I'll give him that. But Eli's been in this longer-he knows how to keep his cool under pressure."

Robby folded his arms tighter across his chest, his mouth tugging into a smirk that didn't quite hide his competitive streak. "Kenny's tough. You'll see."

Before their playful back-and-forth could escalate, Miguel spoke up, his tone light but firm, cutting through the tension like a breeze. "Honestly, does it matter? Whoever wins earns their spot. That's what counts."

Arizona and Robby exchanged a glance before softening, both conceding with quiet shrugs. "Yeah, you're right," Arizona said, but her gaze lingered on the trees, unable to shake the competitive buzz in her chest.

Minutes ticked by, the suspense growing like a living thing. Then-

A sudden rustling broke the silence, and the clearing turned as one toward the tree line. Kenny burst through first, his face flushed and determined, his speed almost otherworldly as he sprinted toward the finish.

"Holy shit," Arizona breathed, pushing to her feet.

"Kenny won!" Robby exclaimed, his pride written all over his face as he pumped his fist into the air.

But before the cheering could fully erupt, Kenny skidded to a halt, his expression twisting into sheer panic. Without a word, he bolted past the group and straight for the portable toilets. The clearing went quiet, stunned into confusion as Kenny pounded desperately on the door.

"Open up! Please-please! I gotta go!" Kenny's voice wavered in raw desperation as he bounced from foot to foot, his movements frantic.

Arizona pressed a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she whispered, "Oh my God... he's gonna-"

A loud, unmistakable sound burst from the portable toilet. Kenny froze. The group froze. For a long, excruciating moment, no one said a word.

And then Anthony lost it. Doubling over with laughter, he wheezed, "I-I can't... oh my God!" Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his stomach.

Robby groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. "Man, that's rough."

"Somebody just earned their brown belt," Johnny's voice rang out dryly from behind them, his humor cutting through the awkwardness like a knife.

Arizona turned sharply toward him. "Johnny!"

Johnny raised his hands in mock innocence. "Sorry, Zen Master Bubblegum."

Kenny, his face now redder than ever, shoved Bert aside as the door swung open and rushed back in, slamming it shut with a final, decisive thud.

Before anyone could fully process the chaos, Devon emerged from the woods, breathless but triumphant as she held her flag high over her head.

"Devon won!" Sam cried, jumping to her feet as applause erupted around the clearing.

Devon ran forward, grinning ear to ear as the crowd cheered for her. Robby clapped, but his expression was subdued, his disappointment for Kenny still lingering. Moments later, Demetri appeared, his steps slow and exhausted as he trudged toward them, flag in hand.

Arizona leaned forward eagerly. "Did Eli win?" she asked, scanning the tree line expectantly.

Demetri shook his head with a sigh, holding up his flag with a grimace. "Sorry, Eli didn't make it."

Barnes stepped forward again, his voice booming over the group. "I give you your Miyagi-Do team for the Sekai Taikai: Miguel, Sam, Belle, Tory, Robby, Devon, and Demetri."

The team members lined up, side by side, as applause swept through the clearing. Arizona's chest swelled with pride as she joined the group, but as her gaze drifted across the crowd, she spotted Eli standing off to the side. His shoulders slumped, his expression clouded with disappointment.

Quietly excusing herself, Arizona stepped out of the lineup and made her way toward him. "Hey," she called softly, drawing his attention. "You good?"

Eli looked up, forcing a small, pained smile. "Yeah. Just... wasn't my day."

Arizona tilted her head, her tone gentle. "Hey, you've still got nothing to prove. You're one of the best fighters out here. One challenge doesn't change that."

Eli's smile warmed a little, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Arizona."

As the rest of the team celebrated, Arizona stayed with Eli for a moment longer, the cheers and laughter of the clearing fading into the background. There would be more challenges ahead, but for now, she focused on this small, quiet moment-a reminder that winning wasn't everything. Sometimes, being there for your team mattered just as much.

Arizona stepped through the front door of the house, the familiar smell of her mother's cooking and the quiet hum of life waiting for her. She dropped her bag on the entryway table and kicked off her shoes. The house was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustling energy of her family.

"Mama? Diego? Abuela? Anyone home?" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty hallways.

She waited for a moment, hearing nothing but the faint creaks of the house settling. Arizona ran a hand through her hair, irritation building. Normally, her family would be home by now. Maybe her mom was still out, running errands, or Diego was at a friend's house. Her abuela was probably in her room, resting.

Arizona turned toward the living room, considering a nap before her next plans. But then she froze.

A voice, deep and chilling, came from the shadows of the hallway behind her.

"Hello, Arizona."

Her heart skipped a beat, her blood turning to ice. The world seemed to slow around her, and for a moment, everything went silent except for the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

Arizona's body locked in place, her breath caught in her throat. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She'd recognize that voice anywhere.

Alexander.

Her father.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in jail-she thought he was behind bars, locked away, far out of reach. But there he was, standing just behind her, a ghost she thought was gone forever.

Arizona stood frozen in the doorway, the world spinning around her as her thoughts scrambled to find a way out of the nightmare that had just walked into her life again.

Her voice barely escaped her, hoarse and tight. "What... What are you doing here?"

The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. Arizona's heart raced, but she couldn't move. Not an inch.

ash speaks!

cliffhanger:)

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