chapter fifty-three:
❛ off balance teammates ❜

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!

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Arizona stood poised in the center of the mat, her bo staff held lightly in her hands. The roar of the crowd filled the arena, but she tuned it out, focusing on her breathing. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Her heartbeat slowed as she allowed herself to sink into the calm she'd cultivated through countless hours of training. She shifted her gaze to her opponent, Kael from Iron Dragons. He stood tall, his presence commanding, his staff spinning lazily in his hands as he smirked at her.

The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, "Next up in the bo staff competition: Arizona from Miyagi-Do versus Kael from Iron Dragons!"

Arizona bowed respectfully, her movements deliberate, embodying the humility and focus of Miyagi-Do. Kael barely tilted his head in response, his smirk deepening as he took his position. His confidence was palpable, and the crowd seemed to sense it too, cheering loudly as the match began.

The referee signaled the start, and Kael moved first, his routine bursting with aggression. His strikes were fast, his spins powerful, and his footwork sharp. He added flashy flips and loud kiais, his performance designed to dominate. The crowd roared in approval as he finished his opening kata with a dramatic flourish, his bo staff spinning high into the air before he caught it and planted it firmly on the mat.

Arizona didn't flinch. Her heart was steady as she stepped into the center of the mat, her staff resting comfortably in her hands. This was her turn to show the essence of Miyagi-Do: balance, control, and precision. She closed her eyes briefly, finding her center, before opening them and beginning her kata.

Her movements were fluid, each transition seamless. The bo staff glided through the air, each strike deliberate and precise. She incorporated traditional stances and intricate spins, her focus unwavering. Her movements were like a dance, full of grace and control, yet grounded in strength.

She began a series of slow, deliberate strikes, building momentum as she transitioned into a faster rhythm. She moved into a low crouch, sweeping the staff in a wide arc before rising smoothly into a high block. Her strikes weren't loud or aggressive but carried a quiet power that captivated the crowd.

As she moved into her next sequence, she performed a smooth figure-eight spin, her staff a blur of motion. She transitioned into a graceful turn, the tails of her Miyagi-Do gi fluttering slightly as she flowed effortlessly into a series of precise strikes. Every movement reflected her discipline and zen-like approach to karate.

Arizona ended her first routine by planting the staff firmly on the mat and bowing. The crowd was quieter than before-not out of disinterest, but out of awe. Her performance was understated yet mesmerizing, a stark contrast to Kael's intensity.

Kael's second turn was even more aggressive. He added a series of daring flips and fast, hammering strikes that showcased his athleticism. His movements screamed dominance, and the crowd roared louder than ever. He finished with a spinning jump, his staff slamming into the mat with a resounding crack.

Arizona didn't let his performance faze her. She stepped back to the center, her mind as calm as a still lake. This time, she allowed herself to add more complexity, her kata growing in intricacy and fluidity. She incorporated low stances, smooth pivots, and elegant transitions. The bo staff never stopped moving, a seamless extension of her body.

In her final sequence, she performed a slow, controlled backflip, landing softly as she transitioned into a series of spinning strikes. She ended her routine with a high block, the staff held steady above her head, before lowering it and bowing deeply.

When she stepped back to her corner, her chest rose and fell in measured breaths. The crowd erupted in applause, and she caught a glimpse of her teammates on the sidelines. Robby gave her an approving nod, Sam clapped wildly, Miguel screamed loudly for her and even Hawk gave a begrudging thumbs-up. She noticed the respect in Kael's expression as he nodded at her from across the mat.

The judges deliberated for a moment, but Arizona didn't focus on their decision. She was at peace, knowing she had done her best and remained true to herself and Miyagi-Do's values. Whatever the outcome, she had shown the world that strength didn't always mean aggression-it could also mean balance, control, and quiet power.

The hotel lobby buzzed faintly with the quiet tension of competitors regrouping after a brutal morning. It was a far cry from the usual energy that filled the space during events like these. Groups huddled in corners, their voices low as they exchanged quiet strategies, recounted close matches, or simply rested in silence. The air was heavy with exhaustion, frustration, and a brewing anxiety over the challenges still ahead. The subtle sounds of shuffling feet on marble floors and the muted clinks of water bottles punctuated the uneasy quiet.

Arizona stood in the middle of the Miyagi-Do group, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her stance was rigid, her fingers gripping her elbows as though physically holding herself together. A few strands of blonde hair escaped from her hastily tied ponytail, sticking to her forehead slick with sweat from the morning's matches. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the strained expressions of her teammates. Even Demetri, the team's usual source of levity, was uncharacteristically quiet, his mouth pressed into a grim line.

The morning's grueling events weighed heavily on everyone, but Arizona felt it more acutely. She leaned her head lightly on Miguel's shoulder, the rare gesture of vulnerability almost surprising even to herself. Exhaustion radiated through her body, yet her mind wouldn't rest. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she and Miguel were carrying more of the load than anyone else. The others were trying, sure, but their energy felt scattered, and Arizona couldn't help but think it bordered on complacency.

Sam stood a few feet away, her brow furrowed as she stared into the middle distance. Arizona could almost feel the churn of her thoughts. They hadn't spoken much since the matches ended; everyone was too drained. The mood of the dojo matched the subdued hum of the lobby: tired, uncertain, and strained under the weight of expectations.

Suddenly, the sharp clap of Daniel LaRusso's hands cut through the hushed murmurs, drawing all attention to him. Arizona straightened instinctively, her focus snapping to the sensei standing in their midst. Daniel's calm but commanding presence filled the room, quieting the noise entirely.

"Everyone, listen up," Daniel began, his voice firm and measured. His eyes swept over the group, making sure he had their attention. "This morning was tough-I won't sugarcoat it. But it's not over yet. We've got two more events today. Eliminations don't start until after the second one, so now is the time to focus."

Arizona's jaw tightened as she absorbed his words. Focus. Easier said than done when the day had already drained so much from them. The morning's matches had been unrelenting, and the thought of what was still to come weighed heavily.

From her left, Demetri hesitantly raised a hand, breaking the silence. "Wait, hold on-if this morning wasn't the elimination round, then what's next? Because I'm not sure my body signed up for this much suffering."

Despite herself, Arizona's lips twitched, but the humor barely landed. The group's tension was too thick for laughter to crack through. Daniel, however, managed a small, tight-lipped smile before continuing.

"I know it's exhausting," Daniel said, meeting each student's gaze. "But remember, we're up against the best dojos in the world. You can't let that intimidate you. You're one of them. Never forget that."

Arizona glanced at Sam, whose eyes met hers for a fleeting moment of shared understanding. They were both tired, yes, but they weren't done. Not yet.

Before the silence could stretch too long, Johnny stepped forward, his rough voice breaking through Daniel's calm tone. "Yeah, yeah, you're the best, yadda yadda. But if you want to win, you need to start acting like it."

Arizona's skeptical expression mirrored Sam's as they exchanged a brief glance. Johnny's words landed less like encouragement and more like a challenge, his bluntness grating against the carefully maintained calm Daniel had tried to instill.

"Johnny," Daniel said, exhaling sharply, his tone laced with the exasperation of years spent balancing their partnership. "What they need right now is to clear their minds and get some rest. This isn't the time to overthink-just trust yourselves. You've trained for this."

Arizona's shoulders sagged slightly as Miguel's hand found its way to her tense back, rubbing small, soothing circles. She appreciated the gesture but couldn't shake the weight pressing down on her chest. The morning's matches had pushed her to her limits, and the thought of going through two more rounds felt like climbing a mountain with no summit in sight.

The tension in the group was palpable, the silence stretching uncomfortably as everyone processed Daniel's words. Arizona took a deep breath, centering herself as best she could. She stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but steady as she spoke.

"We're all tired," she said, her tone measured, almost meditative. "And yeah, this morning was rough. But we didn't get here by accident. We've earned our place, every single one of us. If we let the pressure get to us now, we're letting all that hard work go to waste." She paused, letting her words settle over the group. "This isn't about being perfect. It's about staying grounded, staying focused, and trusting what we already know."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the tension seemed to ease. Sam gave a small nod, and even Demetri straightened a little. Arizona glanced at Miguel, who smiled softly at her, his pride evident.

Daniel stepped forward again, his expression warm but serious. "Exactly. Stay grounded, stay focused, and remember-this is just another challenge. And challenges are what make us stronger."

The group began to break apart, their spirits slightly lifted but still subdued. Arizona let out a soft sigh as she leaned into Miguel for a brief moment before stepping back. The exhaustion was still there, but she felt a renewed sense of purpose. The fight wasn't over. Not yet.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft thud, Devon slumped back against the cool metal wall, the chill seeping through the fabric of her hoodie. Her shoulders sagged under the crushing weight of the morning's failure, and a long, drawn-out sigh escaped her lips. It wasn't just a bad day-it felt catastrophic. Her hands buried themselves deep in her hoodie's pockets as she fixed a half-hearted glare at the scuffed elevator floor, the fluorescent lights overhead casting harsh reflections on the polished surface.

"Well," she muttered, her voice low but sharp with self-recrimination, "I totally sucked out there." She tilted her head back against the wall, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling as though it might offer some cosmic insight into her terrible performance. "I mean, what the hell happened? I couldn't land a single clean kick, and then-" Her voice caught for a moment as she grimaced, the memory of her final humiliation replaying in vivid detail. "I went full-on pratfall. Flat on my ass. Right in front of everyone." She closed her eyes briefly, willing the mortifying image to fade.

Sam stood stiffly in the corner of the elevator, her arms folded tightly across her chest as though trying to physically hold herself together. Her eyes were glued to the floor, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper. "We all did terribly," she murmured, her tone void of energy or conviction. The words hung in the stale air, thick and heavy with unspoken disappointment.

Devon turned her head toward Sam, raising an eyebrow at the comment, her expression a mix of surprise and a touch of sympathy. "Yeah, but I literally landed on my ass," she reiterated, her tone tinged with disbelief at her own ineptitude. She shook her head, her hands tightening into fists inside her pockets. "I was so off my game. Even my balance was garbage. I don't know what happened out there. It's like the second I stepped on that mat, my brain just... shut off. All my training-gone."

Arizona, leaning casually against the elevator railing, shrugged softly. Her lips quirked upward in the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It's not all on you," she said, her voice steady and calm but carrying a quiet empathy that made her words feel more grounded. "The whole team's been struggling. It's just been... a lot, you know?" Her tone was gentle, almost reflective, but her gaze flicked briefly to Sam as though testing the waters of the conversation.

Sam's jaw tightened at Arizona's comment, and she exhaled slowly through her nose. The sharp edge in her voice cut through the air like a blade. "It would help if our senseis got on the same page," she said bitterly, her arms tightening around herself. "Johnny's gotta start working with my dad. They're not exactly the dream team right now, and their constant clashing? It's messing with the whole vibe. We need them to focus on the team, not their egos."

Arizona's expression shifted, her lips pressing into a thin line as she gave Sam a measured look. Her tone remained calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, a quiet defiance. "I don't think it's all Johnny's fault," she said evenly. "He's just... different, Sam. He's always been that way. You can't expect him to change overnight just because we're in some big competition. He's got his own style, and it works. It's not like-"

"Not like what?" Sam interrupted, her voice rising slightly as she turned to face Arizona fully. Her gaze was sharp, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Not like my dad's style? Johnny's so unpredictable that half the time, I don't even know if he knows what he's doing!"

The tension in the elevator became almost palpable as Arizona met Sam's glare without flinching, her steady calm clashing with Sam's fiery frustration. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the elevator's motor. Devon, caught in the middle, shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them like a referee dreading an inevitable fight.

The elevator chimed softly, breaking the standoff as the doors slid open with a quiet whoosh. The atmosphere shifted instantly as Zara Malik stepped in, her phone held high, her expression one of smug confidence. Her energy filled the small space like an unwelcome burst of artificial sunlight.

"What's up, everyone?" Zara's voice rang out, bright and gratingly cheerful, as she flashed a dazzling smile at her phone's camera. "It's your queen of karate here!" She angled the camera to show her face at the perfect angle, the light reflecting off her flawless makeup. "Just finished our second Sekai Taikai event-" she reached out to press a button on the elevator panel, never looking up from her phone, "-where the Dragons absolutely slayed, as always. You know how we do." Her smile widened, and she flicked her gaze briefly to the trio. "Although," she added with mock sweetness, "it was awesome to see some other badass girls of karate out there doing their thing. Gotta show love for the competition."

Devon groaned audibly, rolling her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. Arizona let out a soft sigh, her irritation simmering just below the surface, but she masked it with a wry smirk. Sam's expression, on the other hand, tightened into a mask of barely concealed disdain as she stared pointedly at the elevator buttons, refusing to engage.

Zara, oblivious-or perhaps indifferent-to their reactions, continued her monologue as if she were the only one in the room. "Anyway," she said, her voice syrupy with artificial enthusiasm, "let's see if any of these other dojos manage to dethrone us in the next round. To all my fans, I'm here to win for you, so stay tuned. Zara out!" She ended her live-stream with a flourish, tucking her phone into her pocket with an exaggerated flick of her wrist.

Her eyes swept over the group, landing on each of them with a smug, predatory glint. "Sorry," she said, her tone dripping with fake sympathy. "I only do intros for fighters who actually win their events. It's a brand thing, so don't take it personally, yeah?"

Before anyone could respond, Arizona stepped forward, her expression serene but her eyes sharp. Her voice was low, almost melodic, as she spoke. "Funny thing about brands," she said, her tone calm and unhurried. "They're only as good as the person wearing them. And confidence? That's not something you can fake, no matter how many filters you use."

Zara froze, her smug smile faltering for just a moment as she locked eyes with Arizona. The elevator doors opened again, and Zara quickly regained her composure, strutting out with her head held high, though her steps seemed just a fraction less certain.

As the doors closed behind her, Arizona leaned back against the railing, exhaling softly. "Well," she said dryly, "that was a lot of energy for someone who's clearly overcompensating."

Arizona strode down the expansive, brightly lit hallways of the Sekai Taikai building, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. The energy around her was palpable-coaches barked commands in various languages, competitors chatted in clusters, and the occasional sound of a sparring match echoed faintly from nearby rooms. But all of that faded into the background as she focused on the call.

"Mom? What's up?" she asked casually, weaving through the bustling crowd.

Daniella's voice came through, her tone strained in a way that immediately put Arizona on edge. "Diego... he was in an accident."

Arizona froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat. The blood drained from her face as the words hit her like a freight train. "What? Oh my God. Is he okay?" she demanded, panic making her voice tremble.

"Yes, mija. Don't worry," Daniella quickly reassured her, though her tone was shaky. "I just thought you should know. He was skateboarding, and... well, a car ran into him. He's got a broken leg, but he's okay. Everything's going to be fine."

The explanation did little to soothe Arizona's nerves at first, but as the words sank in, the initial panic began to ease. She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging with relief. "Mama, you could've led with that," she muttered, her voice carrying a faint edge of irritation.

Daniella chuckled softly, a hint of guilt in her tone. "I know, I know. I should have. I'm sorry, mija." There was a pause, then the sound of muffled shuffling on the other end. "Diego wants to talk to you."

Before Arizona could respond, she heard the familiar voice of her eleven-year-old brother, brimming with excitement. "Dude, Arizona! Everyone at school is signing my cast! And guess what? That cool girl I told you about? She wrote, like, 'Text me' and put her number on it! I'm getting the ladies!"

Despite herself, Arizona couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course you are, Diego," she teased, shaking her head. But as she laughed, a nagging thought crept into her mind, chilling her amusement.

Alexander.

Her father had made threats before-cold, calculated ones that always lingered like a dark cloud over her family. The memory of his last violent outburst resurfaced, and a horrifying possibility dawned on her. Could this "accident" have been his doing? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and she bit her lip, trying to push the thought aside.

"I, uh, I have to go," she said quickly, her voice tight. "Tell Mama I'll call later, okay? Love you, Diego."

"Love you too! Bye!" he chirped before the call ended.

As Arizona lowered the phone, the tension in her chest refused to ease. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, when a sharp, commanding voice cut through the background noise.

"Faster! Let's go!"

Her head snapped toward the sound, her brows furrowing. It came from a side hallway leading to one of the smaller training rooms. Intrigued-and slightly on edge-Arizona made her way toward the noise, her sneakers squeaking softly against the polished floor.

Peering into the room, she spotted Axel, a competitor from the Iron Dragons dojo, standing stiffly in the center of the mat. His sensei, Wolf, loomed over him, his posture tense and intimidating. The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with unspoken pressure.

"Stop!" Wolf bellowed suddenly, his voice echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Without warning, he swung a punch at Axel. The younger fighter ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the strike.

"What are you doing wrong?" Wolf snarled, his voice dripping with contempt.

Axel didn't answer. His head hung low, his shoulders hunched as though bracing for another blow.

Wolf's patience snapped. His gloved hand came down hard, striking Axel across the face with a sickening thud. Arizona flinched instinctively, her stomach twisting at the sight.

"Again!" Wolf barked, his voice rising with anger. He threw another punch, and Axel ducked once more, slower this time, his exhaustion evident.

The sight was gut-wrenching. Axel looked like a cornered animal, beaten down and powerless. Arizona felt her pulse quicken, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

Wolf, however, was relentless. He slammed his glove down and began pummeling Axel with a series of brutal punches. Each blow landed with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating in the small room. Axel raised his arms in a feeble attempt to shield himself, but it was no use. The onslaught continued.

Arizona's breath hitched as Axel's eyes flicked upward, meeting hers for a brief, desperate moment. His expression was one of quiet pleading, though he said nothing.

Her heart shattered.

She took an involuntary step back, her hands trembling. Memories of her own past surged forward-her father's cold eyes, the sharp sting of his anger, and the helplessness that had once consumed her.

Without thinking, she turned and sprinted down the hallway, her sneakers slapping against the floor as she fled the scene. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her mind swirling with emotions she couldn't quite untangle.

She didn't stop until she was halfway down the hall, leaning against the wall for support as her heart raced. The image of Axel, broken and battered, was burned into her mind.

"Poor guy," she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with guilt and anger. She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to push the memories and the lingering fear away.

This was supposed to be a new chapter for her-a chance to leave the past behind. But no matter how far she ran, the shadows of her history seemed determined to follow.

The fight had been intense, and Arizona felt every ounce of energy she'd poured into it. Her opponent, a fierce girl from Dublin Thunder, was relentless. She had quick reflexes and an unyielding attitude, but Arizona wasn't about to back down. She knew this was more than just a match-it was a statement.

They circled each other, sweat dripping down Arizona's face as she feigned a strike, watching the girl's every move. The air was thick with tension as their eyes locked, both of them calculating their next steps. Arizona's heart pounded in her chest, but her focus was laser-sharp. Her mind was clear-this was the moment she'd been waiting for, to prove not just to herself but to everyone else that she belonged here.

Suddenly, the girl lunged, a quick jab aimed at Arizona's head. Arizona sidestepped it, just barely, and as she did, she twisted her body into a perfect counter, landing a clean punch to the girl's midsection. The blow hit with such force that the girl staggered back, gasping for breath. Arizona didn't let up-she followed up with a swift kick to the side, knocking the girl off balance. Her opponent tried to recover, but Arizona wasn't done. With a final, decisive roundhouse kick, she sent the girl sprawling to the mat.

The ref called it. Arizona stood tall, chest heaving, sweat trickling down her forehead as she held her stance. The crowd erupted into applause, and Arizona felt a swell of pride fill her chest. This was it-this was her moment. She had done it. She had proven herself.

With a victorious grin, Arizona looked to her corner, where Miguel was waiting. His eyes were wide, and a proud grin spread across his face as he gave her a thumbs-up. She couldn't help but laugh in relief and excitement, her pulse still racing from the adrenaline. But before she could fully enjoy the victory, her feet carried her toward Johnny, eager to bask in his approval.

"Sensei! Sensei, did you see what I did to that girl?" Arizona's voice was filled with uncontainable pride, a wide grin still plastered across her face. This wasn't just about the points or the rankings-it was personal. She'd fought hard, and she'd come out on top.

But Johnny didn't immediately respond. His gaze remained fixed on the leaderboard, his features hard and unreadable. Arizona's grin faltered as she stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her victory. The seconds ticked by, and the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.

"Sensei?" she called again, her tone unsure now as she took a half-step closer, her excitement starting to dwindle.

Johnny's expression was stone-cold, his eyes not moving from the screen. Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. His voice came out flat, almost robotic. "It's too little, too late, Alvarez. We're near the bottom of the standings. There's nothing to celebrate here."

Arizona's heart dropped. The smile she had fought so hard for vanished, wiped clean off her face as Johnny's words hit her like a bucket of ice water. She stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. The thrill of victory that had burned so brightly moments before now felt hollow, like a distant memory.

"What?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as disbelief settled over her. She blinked, trying to make sense of it. Her chest tightened, and a wave of frustration washed over her. She couldn't even find the words to respond.

Miguel, standing just a few steps behind her, looked just as stunned. His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then, seeing Arizona's expression, he seemed to reconsider. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he said nothing.

Arizona could barely hear her own thoughts as the frustration simmered beneath her skin. She had just defeated one of their toughest opponents, fought tooth and nail for that win, and Johnny-her Sensei-was brushing it off like it didn't matter.

"That's not fair," Arizona muttered under her breath, trying to make sense of Johnny's reaction, but the words felt empty, lost in the thickening tension of the room.

Johnny, however, seemed oblivious to her distress. His eyes remained locked on the leaderboard, ignoring the small crowd that had gathered around them. Arizona glanced over her shoulder at Demetri and Eli, who were already making their way toward the exit. The defeat in their posture mirrored her own emotions-dejected, worn out, and defeated.

The silence in the room stretched again, heavy with the weight of Johnny's indifference, until his sharp voice cut through the quiet.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Demetri and Eli stopped, their shoulders slumping in resignation. They turned back, frustration written all over their faces.

"Uh, back to the hotel to wash off this disgrace," Demetri shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. His words were biting, aimed directly at Johnny, who didn't flinch.

Johnny's eyes narrowed, and his voice rose, taking on that familiar, commanding tone. "You're not getting off that easy. Locker room. Now."

The command was like a slap to the face. Arizona blinked, a knot forming in her stomach. She exchanged a look with Miguel, who sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no way out of this.

They had no choice but to follow Johnny. Arizona's heart raced as they walked toward the locker room, the weight of the tension thick in the air. She could barely process her own emotions, but she felt the coldness of Johnny's words sinking deeper into her chest with every step.

What was Johnny going to say in there? What was he expecting from them? These thoughts raced through her mind, but she couldn't quite form an answer.

They passed by the leaderboard one last time, Arizona stealing a quick glance at her name. It was there-right alongside the win. But it no longer mattered. Johnny's words had made her victory feel like a mere afterthought.

She turned away and followed the team toward the locker room, her chest tight with disappointment and confusion. She wasn't sure what to expect next, but she knew it wasn't going to be easy.

The locker room felt like a pressure cooker on the verge of explosion. The air was thick with unspoken frustration, disappointment, and simmering resentment. It clung to the walls, to the benches, suffocating everyone inside. The sharp echoes of the gym, the thrum of muffled voices from the arena beyond, were barely audible over the tension that buzzed in the room. Johnny Lawrence paced back and forth, the muscles in his broad shoulders rippling with each deliberate step. His eyes were fiery, a storm of frustration clouding his usual cold and unflinching demeanor. He was like a caged animal, his every movement laced with barely-contained aggression.

"What I saw from you just now?" Johnny's voice sliced through the room, brutal and unrelenting. "It wasn't karate. It was weakness. You fought like little lambs being led to slaughter."

The words stung. They dug under the skin, prickling with sharpness. Arizona's body tensed as the weight of his accusation pressed down on her. She leaned against the lockers, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to shield herself from the onslaught of Johnny's rage. Her jaw clenched so hard that her teeth ached, but she refused to break her composure. She could still feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins from the match, but it was rapidly overshadowed by the biting bitterness in Johnny's tone.

Johnny didn't pause, didn't let anyone respond. His voice only grew louder, the anger escalating with every word. "If you keep going like this, we're done tonight. Eliminated. And what then? Some of you might shrug it off, move on like it's no big deal. But the rest of you? You're gonna carry this with you for the rest of your lives. You'll remember this moment, this opportunity to prove yourselves, and you'll know you crumbled under pressure."

The room felt suffocating. The air was thick with Johnny's words, each one adding weight to their already heavy hearts. Arizona could feel her chest tightening, her breath coming in shallow gasps. His words were harsh-he was right, but it didn't make it hurt any less. His bitterness cut deep, scraping away the small sliver of hope she'd been holding onto after her victory. Her achievement had been nothing more than a fleeting glimmer in the shadow of Johnny's criticism.

Johnny's eyes flared with disgust as he scanned the room. "And then what? You'll end up living shitty lives in shitty apartments with shitty jobs, all because you couldn't get it together when it mattered. So, if that's what you want-if you're all ready to throw in the towel-then why don't we save ourselves the embarrassment and just catch the next flight home?"

Silence descended like a heavy fog, settling over them like a weight that pressed down on every individual. No one spoke. No one moved. The hum of the overhead lights was the only sound that dared break the quiet. Arizona's blood boiled under her skin, but she stayed still, biting back the frustration that threatened to spill out. Johnny's harsh words kept repeating in her head like an echo, twisting into something darker. He didn't know the work they'd put in. Didn't see the sacrifice. She had given everything, but now it felt as if it was all meaningless.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Johnny's voice cracked through the silence like a whip. His gaze, fierce and accusing, swept over each of them. "Where's your fight? Aren't you gonna stand up for yourselves?"

Sam, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. Her voice was low, but firm with underlying irritation. "You keep blaming us," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Like this isn't on him." She jerked her thumb toward Johnny, her words rising in volume as the frustration began to spill over. "Like he's the only one who makes mistakes."

Arizona's stomach lurched at the sudden tension between Sam and Johnny. She wanted to intervene, to smooth things over, but she wasn't sure where she stood anymore. "Sam-" she started, her voice a little softer, trying to defuse the situation, but Sam wasn't done.

"If my dad had been here today," Sam said, her voice cold and clipped, "we never would've lost like that."

Johnny's eyes darkened, a flash of anger crossing his face. He stepped toward Sam, his posture tense, like a predator closing in. "Yeah, well, he didn't show up, did he?"

The room went deathly still. Arizona could feel the tension rising, crackling in the air. Sam's eyes, filled with rage, shot daggers at Johnny. "Probably because of you," she snapped, her voice laced with contempt.

The words hung in the air like a bomb, each one more explosive than the last. Arizona felt her own anger flaring up, her pulse quickening, but before she could voice her frustration, Devon, who had been sitting quietly on the bench, shot to her feet. Her face was flushed, her eyes blazing with defiance.

"Hey!" Devon's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, filling the room with authority. "Don't talk to my Sensei like that."

Sam's eyes flashed with disbelief, and she sneered. "Your Sensei got you knocked off the board in ten seconds. So I'd sit down if I were you."

Arizona groaned, exasperated, stepping forward between the two girls in a last-ditch effort to stop the escalating confrontation. She raised her hand, her voice firm, but not without a trace of weariness. "Back off, Sam," she said. "This isn't helping."

But Sam wasn't finished. Her glare flicked from Devon to Arizona, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're not helping us," she spat. "I don't even know how you made this team."

Devon's eyes narrowed with hurt and anger, but she sank back onto the bench, her fists clenching as she muttered under her breath. Arizona could feel her own frustration bubbling over. The tension in the room was unbearable.

Demetri, who had been silent up until this point, cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the noise like a dull blade. "Well, I, for one, will be putting all this behind me when I'm off to MIT-"

"Shut the fuck up about MIT!" Eli roared, turning to face Demetri, his face red with fury. "Some of us actually care about winning this tournament. It'd be nice if you did too."

Robby, who had been quietly observing, stepped in, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. "Guys, can we cool it? This isn't helping. We need to focus up."

Miguel, who had been sitting on the sidelines, finally spoke, his voice barely above a mutter but clear enough for everyone to hear. "Maybe you should listen to your own advice."

Robby's face froze, his posture stiffening as he turned to Miguel. "Got something to say?"

Miguel stood up without hesitation, meeting Robby's gaze with an unflinching intensity. "I already did."

The words hung between them like a challenge, a dare. The room became unbearably still, as if time had slowed to a crawl. Arizona could feel the heat of the tension pressing down on her chest, the chaos of the moment beginning to suffocate her. Without another word, Miguel turned sharply, his steps echoing in the silence as he headed for the door. Arizona felt her patience snap.

With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself off the lockers and followed him, her mind a swirl of anger and confusion. She couldn't take it anymore. As the door slammed behind them, Arizona felt a sense of relief-only to be replaced by a lingering feeling of loss. The echoes of Johnny's anger, the harsh words, the frustrations-everything-faded into the distance, but the weight remained. It would follow them, lingering in the air long after they'd left the locker room.

Arizona stood at the center of the Sekai Taikai arena, a place that had once felt distant, almost like a dream, but now it surrounded her in all its overwhelming reality. The roar of the crowd vibrated through the soles of her feet, filling her chest like a thunderclap, each cheer, yell, and clap of hands reverberating deep inside her. The atmosphere was charged with so much energy it was almost electric, and though it was deafening, it felt oddly distant, as if it came from another world. Her focus was absolute-everything else blurred into the background.

Bright overhead lights flashed, casting harsh shadows on the floor as they reflected off the massive digital board above her. The board stretched from one end of the arena to the other, a stark contrast of neon colors and flashing names, each one representing a dojo that had fought their way through the previous rounds. Arizona's eyes flicked up toward it, a momentary distraction from the chaos. The names burned brightly: "Miyagi-Do" was listed in bold letters, glowing a fierce white against the backdrop of all the others. It was an achievement in itself to even make it this far, but Arizona didn't have time to bask in that glory. Not now.

The air around her buzzed, thick with anticipation, as the crowd continued to cheer in a rhythmic, undulating wave of noise. But all Arizona could hear was the rush of her own heartbeat, a quick, frantic tempo that echoed in her ears. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing on her chest. This was it. The elimination phase. There would be no second chances. One mistake, one misstep, and it was over. The thought clung to her mind like a shadow, but she shoved it aside, pushing herself forward, focusing on the only thing that mattered: the fight ahead.

Her fingers tightened into fists, the fabric of her gi stretching slightly with the force. She felt the coolness of the material against her skin, but it was drowned out by the rising heat of nerves and determination. Arizona could hear the announcer's booming voice over the din of the crowd, cutting through the chaos and drawing everyone's attention.

"We have now entered the elimination phase of the Sekai Taikai!" The announcer's voice rang out with practiced authority, clear and unmistakable. His words seemed to carry a weight of their own, settling over the arena like a thick fog. Arizona's chest tightened even more as the crowd's cheers faltered slightly, silencing themselves in anticipation of the rules.

"The dojos who do not win tonight will be heading home," the announcer continued, his voice now lowering, becoming more ominous. "The previous rounds have determined your current rankings. The number one team will face the number 16 team. The number two team will face the number 15 team, and so on."

The words sank in. Arizona's breath caught in her throat as she scanned the digital board again. The number 12 position. That was them-Miyagi-Do. Her stomach twisted into knots as her eyes moved down the list. Number 12. Facing off against number 5. Dublin Thunder. She felt a wave of nausea rise within her, but she quickly suppressed it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. This was why she had pushed herself beyond limits, why she'd sacrificed so much to get here. She couldn't afford to let fear take over now.

Devon's voice snapped her out of her daze. Arizona turned her head slightly, noticing Devon standing beside her, her hand firmly on her shoulder. Her expression was grim, but there was a determined edge to her voice. "That means at number 12, we're facing number five-Dublin Thunder," she said, looking over the board with a mix of disbelief and respect for their opponents.

Arizona nodded stiffly, her jaw clenched. She tried to push the unease aside, reminding herself that they had trained for this, that they were ready. She couldn't afford to doubt herself or her team. Not now. Not here.

The announcer's voice cut through the tension, silencing the arena once more. The crowd held their collective breath, waiting for the next piece of the puzzle to fall into place. The lights shifted, narrowing their focus onto the center of the arena, where the platform would soon descend. Arizona's stomach fluttered as the ceiling above them rumbled and groaned. There was a mechanical whirring sound that filled the arena, echoing off the walls as the massive metallic platform slowly began to lower from the ceiling. The sight of it sent a shiver down Arizona's spine. The platform was enormous-elevated and slick, its edges lined with thick padded barriers. The sight of it, hovering above the ground, cast a long, ominous shadow over the arena floor. It was as if the entire space had shifted, becoming something more grand, more dangerous. It was a battlefield, a gladiatorial arena, and Arizona knew this would be unlike anything she'd faced before.

The crowd's excitement swelled, the cheers growing louder as the platform finally touched down with a heavy thud, its metallic surface gleaming under the lights. The announcer raised his hands, ready to explain the rules that would dictate the fight.

"The platform will be the battleground," he announced, his voice cutting through the building noise. "But this time, two fighters from each dojo are allowed on the platform at one time. If one of your fighters falls, they are out. But another teammate can climb up to take their place." His voice shifted to a more serious tone as he explained the critical detail. "However, the fight will never stop. So, get up there quickly, or you'll leave your teammate alone to face a two-on-one."

Arizona's mind raced. A two-on-one situation could be deadly. The thought of it made her pulse spike as she quickly scanned the faces of her teammates. Timing. Strategy. Teamwork. They would need to work as a unit, moving as one. If they faltered, it could all come crashing down.

"When all the fighters of a dojo have been knocked off, the team is out," the announcer finished, gesturing dramatically toward the now fully prepared platform. The crowd's excitement was palpable, buzzing with energy as they awaited the first battle. "Let the battles begin!"

Arizona felt a deep breath fill her lungs as she steadied herself, her eyes narrowing in focus. The fight was coming. And she was ready. She had to be. There was no turning back now. The Sekai Taikai had arrived, and she would not let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

Arizona stood at the edge of the arena, her gaze locked on the Iron Dragons as they reveled in their victory. The sound of the crowd's exuberant cheers seemed to fade into a dull hum, drowned out by the intensity of her concentration. She observed them, every movement, every gesture, as though trying to decipher the formula of their success. Axel, the massive powerhouse of the duo, had just decimated his opponent with an unrelenting ferocity. His victory roar echoed through the arena like a primal battle cry, resonating deep in Arizona's chest. She watched him, eyes narrowed, as he stood tall in the center of the platform, his broad frame almost dwarfing everyone around him. His tight-fitting gi clung to his muscular body, emphasizing the sheer size and power of the man. Axel's stance radiated authority and confidence; it was as if the very air around him bent to his will. Every sinew of his body rippled with the energy of his victory, and he grinned like a conqueror, basking in the adulation of the crowd. To Arizona, it wasn't just a victory; it was a declaration. A force of nature had just been unleashed.

Beside Axel, Zara was a complete contrast. Where Axel's presence was overwhelming, Zara's was magnetic. Her movements were fluid and practiced, every gesture exuding a confidence that seemed to electrify the atmosphere around her. With a playful grin, she raised her hands high, basking in the spotlight. She blew kisses to the audience, winked dramatically, and twirled, as if the arena was her personal stage. The crowd ate it up, their cheers growing louder with each flirtatious move. Arizona watched her with a mixture of respect and mild irritation-Zara was a master at captivating an audience. Her charisma was undeniable, and yet Arizona couldn't help but find it all a bit over the top. Still, there was no denying that Zara knew exactly how to command attention. She was a showman, and she was doing it expertly.

Arizona's arms were crossed tightly across her chest, her body stiff as she studied the Iron Dragons with a critical eye. Axel's power was undeniable, but it was Zara's agility and precise control that caught her attention. Together, they formed an almost perfect balance-a blend of brute strength and fluid finesse. It was clear that their coordination was no accident. Axel's raw power would have been intimidating on its own, but Zara's quickness and dexterity made them an almost unstoppable team. Arizona couldn't help but admit to herself that they were good-damn good. Their victory had been hard-earned, a testament to the countless hours of preparation and practice.

The announcer's booming voice cut through the arena, breaking Arizona's reverie. "Advancing to the next round, the Iron Dragons!" His words seemed to echo, amplified by the massive speakers surrounding the arena. The crowd roared in approval, the noise swelling as Axel raised his fist triumphantly in the air, a symbol of his dominance. Arizona felt a shiver run down her spine. There was something almost unnerving about the rawness of his excitement, like an untamed animal letting loose after a hard-fought battle. The way he threw his fist into the air, his muscles flexing with each movement, it was like a victory dance-but primal, almost feral in nature.

Meanwhile, Zara flashed another dazzling smile, blowing yet another exaggerated kiss to the crowd, her theatricality impossible to ignore. The cheers grew louder, the audience eating up every second of her performance. Arizona couldn't help but roll her eyes, though she fought to suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. Zara knew exactly how to turn it on, and she was milking every second. Still, Arizona couldn't deny that Zara was something else-her energy was infectious, her flair undeniable. And in a way, that made her just as dangerous as Axel. They were a formidable duo, a perfect storm of power and charisma.

Arizona's thoughts were interrupted by Eli's voice, cutting through her assessment. "Was this dude made in a lab?" Eli's tone was full of disbelief, his eyes fixed on Axel with a mixture of awe and humor. He glanced at Demetri, who nodded enthusiastically.

"He's like a mix between the Winter Soldier and Frankenstein's monster," Demetri added, his eyes wide as he continued to watch Axel, clearly overwhelmed by the fighter's imposing presence.

Arizona shot them both a glance, her expression sharpening as she tried to reign in her annoyance. She wasn't in the mood for jokes at the expense of someone else's hard work-or worse, the unwarranted mockery of Axel's journey. "Don't call him a monster," she snapped, her voice firmer than she expected. It was more than just defense of Axel; it was a sharp reminder that she knew too well what it felt like to be underestimated or misunderstood. "You don't know what someone's been through to get where they are."

Her words hung in the air, quieting the boys as they exchanged glances. Arizona's gaze returned to Axel, her mind shifting from the snide remarks of her friends to the man in the arena. Axel's energy was still palpable, his every movement exuding a fierce confidence. But there was something more there-a deeper layer that Arizona couldn't quite place. Beneath that raw power and showmanship, there was a trace of something else. Was it the intensity in his eyes? The subtle tension in his stance? Arizona wasn't sure, but there was a flicker of vulnerability buried beneath the surface. It was as if the battle had cost him more than just physical endurance. His sense of triumph was undeniable, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something more personal, hidden behind that aggressive exterior.

Arizona narrowed her eyes, studying him as if she could peel back the layers and see the man beneath the fighter. There was a story there, one she could sense but couldn't quite decipher. Was it a story of sacrifice? Of overcoming struggles that no one else knew about? Arizona wasn't sure, but her instincts told her there was more to Axel than the show he put on for the crowd. And for the first time in a long while, Arizona found herself intrigued-not just by Axel's strength, but by the layers that lay hidden beneath. The Iron Dragons were more than just a powerhouse team-they were complex, with their own histories and burdens, and Axel... well, Axel was someone she needed to watch carefully.

The arena of the Sekai Taikai seemed to hold its breath. The lights dimmed slowly, casting long, jagged shadows that stretched across the platform, as if the entire space were shifting into another dimension. The transition from the sharp brightness of the stage to the sudden twilight of the stadium made everything feel heightened. The hum of the crowd seemed to fall into a slow crescendo, like a wave building to its peak, ready to crash. Arizona's breath caught in her throat as she stood motionless, locked in the swirling vortex of anticipation. The weight of the moment pressed down on her like a heavy cloak, but she refused to let it break her focus.

The announcer's voice cut through the air, powerful and authoritative, the sound reverberating off the cavernous walls of the arena. "Next on the platform, Dublin Thunder versus Miyagi-Do!" His words echoed in Arizona's ears, and the crowd responded in kind, a deafening roar that rattled the very foundation of the stadium. It felt as if the entire sea of people had come alive, surging forward with their collective energy. The sound of their collective excitement threatened to drown out every thought, every feeling. But Arizona held her ground, steadying herself with a deep breath. Her fingers curled into tight fists, gripping the edges of her gi as her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She could feel the blood rushing in her veins, the anticipation electrifying her every muscle.

The tension in the air was thick-heavy with stakes, with pressure, with the knowledge that there was no turning back now. One slip, one mistake, and they were out. There were no second chances. Arizona's breath was quickening, but she kept it controlled, refusing to let panic rise. This was it. This was the moment they had all worked for. And it was all going to come down to this one fight.

She turned her gaze toward the Dublin Thunder team, already standing on the platform. Their presence was formidable, exuding a mix of quiet confidence and sharp-edged determination. They stood with their heads held high, eyes narrowing at Miyagi-Do with that unmistakable blend of intimidation and calculated focus. Arizona's muscles tensed as she tracked their movements, her mind assessing every little detail, every shift in posture. The challenge was clear, and the pressure, palpable. There would be no room for mistakes.

Johnny and Sam moved toward their team, their steps purposeful, eyes scanning the arena, as if preparing themselves for the battle ahead. Johnny's usual swagger had diminished, replaced with a quieter sense of resolve. His body language was stiff, not with anxiety but with the sharp focus of a man who knew what was at stake. His posture, though solid, spoke volumes about the weight of leadership. Arizona watched him closely, sensing the shift in his demeanor. This was serious. For all his bravado, there was something different in his eyes today-a weight that hadn't been there before. He was ready, but more than that, he was grounding the team.

"Alright, let's bring it in," Johnny's voice cut through the sea of noise, strong and steady. It was a command that pierced the tension in the air, bringing a sudden stillness to their small circle. The team gathered in close around him, their eyes focused on him with varying degrees of wariness, determination, and trust. Johnny's words held more than just the weight of instruction; they carried the weight of belief.

"I got something to say," Johnny continued, his voice carrying the unspoken sincerity that made the others quiet, all attention on him. There was no bravado, no sarcasm in his tone. Just a raw honesty. Arizona's stomach churned slightly as she listened, her eyes narrowing slightly. She knew this wasn't just any speech. This was the moment Johnny was putting everything on the line, and she could feel it.

"It's been a tough day," Johnny admitted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Probably shouldn't have been such a dick to all of you..." He paused, his eyes sweeping over them, taking in the faces of his students, his team. Arizona felt a lump form in her throat. It wasn't just an apology-it was an acknowledgment. Johnny, the man who had always played things off with humor or anger, was vulnerable now. And that vulnerability struck a chord deep within her.

"...but I want you to know that I believe with every bone in my body that you can do this." His eyes met hers then, and she could see it-the trust he had in them, the faith he placed in them. It wasn't the cocky trust of a mentor; it was the trust of someone who understood the weight of what was ahead.

"You guys know a lot more about balance than me," Johnny continued, a brief flash of something like self-deprecation crossing his face, "so remember everything Sensei LaRusso said and use all your Miyagi-Do skills to stay up there." He nodded toward the platform, his hand gesturing as though to cement the very essence of the battle they were about to face. His eyes lingered on Arizona for a moment, and she caught that subtle shift-a sense of expectation, a silent understanding that she was part of this. That she was crucial.

A chill ran through Arizona's spine. It wasn't the cold of fear; it was something else-a sharpened sense of purpose. She would not let them down. She couldn't. Not now, not when everything was on the line.

Johnny's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before moving to the rest of the group. His nod was small but powerful-a silent promise between them. "I'm thinking we should start strong with our captains," he said, his voice strong once again. "Sam. Robby."

The words hung in the air, and Arizona's chest tightened. She glanced at Robby, seeing his jaw set with an almost tangible tension. He was already tying his captain's headband, the fabric pulled with a little too much force. She could feel the undercurrent of pressure he was carrying.

"Devon, you'll go next," Johnny continued, his eyes scanning the faces of his team. "Hawk. Demetri. Arizona and Miguel are our anchor." He finished with a finality that settled over them all, his gaze firm and unyielding. "Let's do this."

The team stood in silence for a brief moment, and then, in perfect unison, they bowed. The sound of their movement was like a synchronized breath, the grounding force before they stepped onto the platform. Arizona straightened, feeling the weight of the bow. But beneath that weight was an overwhelming sense of readiness. They were more than just a team; they were a family, and now it was time to prove it.

Arizona's eyes stayed locked on Sam and Robby as they stood at the center of the Sekai Taikai platform. The energy in the arena was palpable, the crowd roaring in anticipation as the first fight of the match began. Sam and Robby were Miyagi-Do's first line of defense, and Arizona could feel the weight of their challenge pressing down on them as the tension stretched taut.

"Come on, LaRusso! Let's go, Robby!" Johnny's voice cut through the air, his usual bravado tempered by an undercurrent of concern. His words weren't just a command-they were a rallying cry. "You guys got this!" He shouted, and Arizona, too, felt the need to lend her support. She clapped her hands, the sound sharp and encouraging, a burst of warmth in the cold, buzzing arena.

"Go, Sam and Robby!" Arizona shouted, her voice blending with the sound of the crowd's cheers. Her heart raced as she watched the two of them square off against their opponents, every movement on the platform magnified in the dimming light of the arena.

The fight began, and for the first few seconds, it seemed like Sam and Robby were holding their own. Sam was graceful, poised, her movements swift and sharp. Robby's energy was fierce, every strike landing with precision. But then-everything changed.

Without warning, one of the Dublin Thunder girls, faster than Arizona had anticipated, launched a well-timed punch straight into Robby's midsection, knocking him off balance. Arizona's stomach lurched as she watched him stumble backward, and in the same fluid motion, the Dublin Thunder fighter kicked him off the platform entirely. The crowd gasped, and Arizona felt the air in her lungs evaporate. The entire exchange couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds, but in that brief instant, everything had shifted.

Arizona's shoulders sagged in frustration. Robby's balance had been completely off-she could see it clearly. And it wasn't just because of the fight-it was because of Tory. She could feel the weight of that influence hanging over him, like a storm cloud he couldn't shake off.

With Robby out, Devon was next. She stepped up onto the platform with a fire in her eyes, her posture determined. Arizona's hands clenched into fists as she watched her friend's first move. Devon didn't hesitate. She executed a flawless kick that sent one of the Dublin Thunder members flying off the platform, a clean hit that earned a roar from the crowd. The applause rang in Arizona's ears, but it was quickly overshadowed by what happened next. As Devon took down the Dublin fighter, Sam, still reeling from Robby's defeat, managed to eliminate another of the Dublin Thunder members. It was a small win, but it wasn't enough.

Before Sam could even recover, a Dublin Thunder girl caught her off guard, a well-placed kick sending Sam tumbling from the platform with a shocked gasp. Arizona's breath caught in her throat. No, Sam, not now, she thought, willing her to get back up, but Sam was already gone, eliminated in the blink of an eye.

Next up was Hawk. Arizona watched as he stepped onto the platform, his usual swagger now replaced with an intense, almost unrecognizable focus. The tension between him and Demetri, who had been simmering all day, was unmistakable, but Hawk didn't let it show. Devon, however, wasn't done yet. As Hawk made his entrance, she made a final, desperate grab for one of the Dublin Thunder members, dragging her down with a move that was both instinctive and impressive. The crowd cheered as they both tumbled off the platform, but Devon's sacrifice didn't seem to go unnoticed. Hawk, for all his competitive drive, didn't appear thrilled about it.

"Nice sacrifice! Badass, Lee!" Johnny's voice rang out, pride evident in his tone. Arizona shot a quick look at him and noticed how his words seemed to have a dual purpose. While he was congratulating Devon, he was also trying to keep the team's morale up.

But Arizona could sense the mounting frustration on Hawk's face. He wasn't happy about the unexpected turns the fight was taking, nor was he pleased with Demetri's earlier move. She could feel the tension between them still unresolved, and it wasn't helping their focus. Hawk's gaze shot to Demetri, and Arizona's gut twisted. This is going to be a problem.

When it was Demetri's turn, he stepped onto the platform with a quiet resolve, his eyes not meeting Hawk's. Arizona could see that he wasn't just worried about the fight-he was still grappling with the fallout from his earlier argument with Hawk. The tension in the air was so thick it was almost tangible. Arizona watched as Demetri took a calculated step forward and executed a kick, sending both a Dublin Thunder member and Hawk himself flying off the platform.

The crowd erupted, but Arizona felt a wave of unease. As Demetri processed what he had done, he froze for a split second, eyes wide with realization. It had been a good move-effective, even-but in the chaos of the moment, he hadn't been able to control the fallout. As if on cue, a Dublin Thunder boy took advantage of the opening and kicked Demetri off the platform.

"Shit!" Arizona muttered under her breath, her heart pounding. "Miguel, we gotta go!" She shot a glance at Miguel, but he was already moving. The moment Demetri hit the ground, Miguel was already on his feet, his eyes blazing with determination. But before he could say anything, he turned to Robby, who was still recovering on the sidelines, trying to catch his breath.

"Hey," Miguel said, his voice sharp and focused. "Watch how it's done by Ari and I." His words were meant to be playful, but there was something more-something fierce, something urgent in them that made Arizona's heart skip a beat.

Arizona's eyes widened in disbelief. Wait, what?

Miguel didn't wait for her response. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand and, with a forceful tug, dragged her toward the platform. Arizona's legs moved with him almost instinctively, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, but her mind was still reeling from the sudden shift. This is it, she thought, as they approached the edge of the platform. We're up next.

Arizona's heart raced as Miguel dragged her onto the platform, the weight of the moment crashing down on her. This was it-the final stretch. The last two members of Dublin Thunder stood across from them, eyes narrowed in focus, ready to do whatever it took to send Miyagi-Do home. Arizona's mind raced as she quickly assessed the situation. Miguel's got the offense, I'll cover the defense.

She glanced at Miguel. His expression was set in a quiet fury, his fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't about to let anyone else get eliminated-not again. Arizona nodded at him, her hand instinctively reaching for her stance. Miguel gave her a brief, reassuring glance before he leapt into action.

The first Dublin Thunder fighter lunged at Miguel, a swift, calculated attack aimed at his chest. But Miguel was faster, spinning to the side with a burst of agility that sent his opponent crashing into the platform with a resounding thud. The crowd roared with approval, but the remaining Dublin fighter wasn't giving up that easily.

Arizona didn't wait for her opening-she created one. As the second Dublin member tried to circle behind Miguel, Arizona moved quickly, positioning herself between Miguel and their opponent. The Dublin fighter attempted a kick, but Arizona was already there, blocking it with a fluid motion, her feet planted firmly on the platform. The energy around her seemed to calm for a split second, as if everything had slowed down. She could feel the precise positioning of her body-she'd been taught for this very moment.

"Nice move," Miguel said with a smirk, his eyes flashing as he turned to face his own opponent. Arizona gave him a subtle smile back, but there was no time to celebrate yet. Her eyes flicked to the other Dublin fighter, who was recovering quickly, clearly not backing down.

But Arizona was ready. The opponent rushed at her with a flurry of punches, trying to throw her off balance. But with every strike, Arizona slid just out of reach, using the opponent's momentum against them. The moves were graceful, precise, each counterattack bringing her one step closer to ending this.

Miguel, meanwhile, was using his speed to overwhelm his own adversary. The Dublin fighter was fast, but Miguel was faster, throwing quick jabs and kicks that pushed his opponent back toward the edge. Arizona couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching him work-he was fighting like he had something to prove, but there was something else in his movements, something that told her they were in this together.

She looked over just in time to see Miguel duck a punch and spin, sending his opponent flying off the platform with a well-placed kick. Arizona's focus sharpened as the last Dublin Thunder member turned toward her, eyes filled with determination. But it was too late. She had him.

With a final defensive stance, Arizona waited for the attack she knew was coming. The Dublin fighter lunged forward, but Arizona was ready, her movements precise as she sidestepped, grabbing hold of his arm and using his own momentum to push him off the platform. The crowd exploded into cheers, and Arizona could barely hear anything over the roaring applause. The moment she'd been waiting for was here.

They'd done it.

The announcer's voice cut through the noise, booming over the arena: "Incredible performance from Miyagi-Do's Miguel Diaz and Arizona Alvarez! Their triumph sends Miyagi-Do to the next round!"

The words hit Arizona like a rush of adrenaline, and she turned to Miguel, who was already moving toward her. The entire arena seemed to melt away in that moment as they rushed toward each other. Her heart pounded in her chest as Miguel pulled her into a tight embrace, their victory palpable between them. Without thinking, they both leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was fierce and full of triumph, sealing the feeling of victory they had just fought for together.

For a brief moment, the cheers and claps of the crowd faded into the background as their kiss lingered. It wasn't just the win-it was everything they'd gone through together, the weight of the fight, the connection they had forged in the heat of battle.

The rest of the Miyagi-Do team suddenly stormed onto the platform, their faces alight with excitement. Johnny was the first to reach them, clapping them both on the back with a proud grin. "You two are unstoppable," he said, his usual tough exterior giving way to a rare moment of genuine pride.

Sam was next, her face flushed with excitement as she wrapped Arizona in a tight hug. "I knew you guys had it!" she exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

Robby stepped forward, a proud but playful look on his face. "Hell yeah, Ari. You and Miguel kicked ass," he said, giving them both a thumbs-up.

As more of the team surrounded them, Arizona felt the weight of their collective effort-their shared drive to keep pushing forward. They had made it through this round, but she knew the battles ahead would only get harder. But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the victory, surrounded by the people who had her back through every challenge.

Miguel leaned in toward her, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think we've earned a little celebration?"

Arizona's smile widened. "Oh, I think we definitely have."

The door clicked shut behind them as Arizona and Miguel stepped into her hotel room, their excitement and triumph still buzzing in the air between them. Arizona leaned against the door for a moment, closing her eyes as she basked in the afterglow of their victory. The team had done it. They were one step closer to the next round, and the adrenaline was still pumping through her veins. She could feel the smile tugging at her lips, her chest rising and falling with every breath as her heart raced.

Miguel stood beside her, his expression full of something between disbelief and joy. He looked at her, as if seeing her in a different light, as if the tension of the match was slowly fading away and being replaced by something far more tender.

"You were incredible out there," Miguel murmured, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down Arizona's spine. She couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at her lips, knowing full well that she felt the same way about him.

Arizona laughed softly, shaking her head, still caught in the magic of the moment. "We were incredible, Miguel. We did it together." She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her fingers. "I can't believe we actually made it through that."

The heat in his eyes was palpable as his hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. The softness of his touch contrasted with the fiery tension of the fight they'd just left behind. "We made it because of you," he whispered. "You were the anchor. Without you, we wouldn't have won."

Arizona's breath caught in her throat, but before she could respond, Miguel leaned in, closing the space between them. The kiss started slow, almost hesitant, as though they were both savoring the moment of victory. But it didn't take long before it deepened-becoming more urgent, more intense-as the weight of everything they had just accomplished settled in. Their lips moved together in perfect synchronization, and Arizona felt her heart race again, only now it was for a completely different reason.

Her hands slid up to his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as she pressed herself against him. Miguel's arms wrapped around her waist, his body leaning into hers as if there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Every touch, every soft sigh, felt like a celebration in itself, an unspoken acknowledgment of how far they'd come-how much they'd fought for this moment. It was pure euphoria, and for a brief second, it felt like the rest of the world didn't exist.

But just as the intensity of the kiss reached a new height, the door to the hotel room suddenly burst open without warning.

"Alright, you two-" Johnny's voice boomed through the room, breaking the intimate moment. Arizona and Miguel pulled away from each other so quickly it was almost comical. Johnny stood there in the doorway, his face flustered, his eyes wide. He looked like a man who had just been interrupted in a way he hadn't planned on. "I-uh-sorry. But we need to go, now."

Miguel blinked in confusion, still catching his breath. "What? What's going on, Sensei?"

Johnny stepped into the room, looking far more agitated than usual, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. His tone was more serious than Arizona had ever heard it. "We need to get on a plane, you and me. Now."

Arizona furrowed her brows. "Why? What's going on?"

Johnny's gaze darkened, the seriousness in his eyes giving way to something far heavier. "Carmen's in the hospital. She collapsed," he said, his voice tight. "We need to get there now. It's bad, and you two don't have time to waste."

Arizona's stomach sank at the mention of Carmen. Her blood went cold, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. "Oh shit," she muttered, her hand automatically reaching for Miguel's. Her mind was racing. Miguel's mother-the woman who had always been a constant support-was in the hospital? Arizona's heart clenched in sympathy, but there was something else there too: a deep, gut-wrenching concern. She couldn't imagine what Miguel was feeling right now.

Before she could say more, Johnny spoke again. "Listen," he said, his voice softer now, but still full of urgency. "We don't have time. But your team needs you. You and Miguel are holding it together. If you're both out of here..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes flicked to Arizona's. "It could crumble. You can't leave. Not now."

The weight of Johnny's words hit Arizona hard. She understood the gravity of the situation. Her first instinct was to go with them-to be there for Carmen and Miguel, but Johnny was right. The team was relying on them, and they couldn't afford to fall apart now. Not after everything they had been through.

She nodded slowly, a tight knot forming in her chest. "I understand. I can't leave the team, not now."

Turning to Miguel, Arizona placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions threatening to take over. "Go check on your mom. And the baby. They need you right now, Miguel. I'll be fine here. We have to keep going."

Miguel hesitated, his eyes searching hers, his mind clearly torn. "Are you sure? You don't have to stay behind. I can't-"

"Go, Miguel," she interrupted softly, squeezing his shoulder. "I'll be fine. Your mom needs you. You know I've got this here."

Miguel's gaze softened as he exhaled deeply, his eyes filling with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. And with that, he turned, walking toward the door where Johnny was waiting impatiently.

Johnny didn't say anything more, just gave Arizona a look that said he understood her decision, before motioning for Miguel to follow.

As Miguel stepped out, Arizona watched him go, her heart aching for him. She wanted nothing more than to be there with him-to support him-but she knew the importance of staying with the team. She took a deep breath, the rush of emotions threatening to swallow her. There was no time to linger. She had a team to lead, a tournament to win, and she wasn't about to let them down.

With one final glance toward the door, Arizona turned, her mind refocused. The weight of the moment settled on her shoulders, but she wasn't afraid. They'd done it before, and they would do it again.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

HOLY SHIT THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER. OVER 12K WORDS?????

im so grateful for this fic and its almost 100k. i cant believe it🥹 we're almost coming up on 1 year of this fic and ironically the day when cobra kai s6 part 3 releases. i know when you check table of contents it says feb 24, but originally it was feb 13, but i unpublished it for like a week and republished it!!

and 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!

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