𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒊. into the fire
chapter fifty-seven:
❛ into the fire ❜
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The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor, a constant, rhythmic reminder that Arizona was still alive. The room smelled of antiseptic and sterile linens, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words and lingering prayers. Dim lights flickered softly against the pale walls, casting faint shadows over the still form lying in the bed. Arizona's face was peaceful, too peaceful, her skin pale, almost ghostly against the stark white of the pillow. Bandages covered part of her forehead, a deep cut hidden beneath the gauze. Bruises painted her arms and jaw in deep purples and fading blues, her left arm encased in a cast. IV lines trailed from the back of her hand, leading up to bags of fluids and medications keeping her stable, keeping her here.
Miguel sat beside her, hunched forward in the stiff hospital chair that had become his place of residence over the last month. His elbows rested on the edge of the mattress, fingers wrapped around her cold, unmoving hand. His grip was gentle, but firm, like he was trying to anchor her to him, as if his touch alone could pull her back from wherever she was trapped. His dark brown eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, exhaustion evident in the slumped set of his shoulders and the slight tremble in his hands. He had barely left her side, only going home when the nurses forced him to, but even then, he never stayed away for long. He couldn't.
He exhaled shakily, shaking his head. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a soft, lingering touch. "I can't believe this is happening again," he murmured, his voice hoarse, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "First me... now you?"
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips, but there was no humor in it. He looked down, his gaze tracing the lines of her face, memorizing every detail as if he hadn't already done so a million times before.
"This is all my fault," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His free hand came up, running through his messy, unkempt hair before dragging down his face. He looked exhausted, drained. But more than that, he looked broken.
"I-I lost you during the fight," he confessed, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "I was trying to help Robby, and then... next thing I knew, you were gone." His voice wavered, thick with guilt. "I didn't even see you leave. If I had just-" He cut himself off, jaw clenching.
He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I should've been there. I should've stopped him."
Silence filled the room, save for the quiet hum of the machines and the occasional muffled sounds of nurses passing by in the hallway.
Miguel's eyes flickered to her motionless face, searching for something-anything-that would tell him she could hear him. That she was still in there somewhere. But she didn't move. She hadn't moved in a month.
His heart clenched painfully in his chest.
"Your dad is gonna rot in jail," he said, his voice hardening slightly, anger seeping through his exhaustion. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "And he is. He's going against the jury today. They say he's gonna plead insanity."
He let out another humorless laugh, one that held no warmth, only bitterness. "He's feeling regret," Miguel scoffed. "Got diagnosed with multiple personality disorder."
His jaw tightened, the muscles twitching as he fought against the storm of emotions brewing inside him. Regret. Insanity. None of it changed what had happened. None of it erased the terror in Arizona's eyes before the crash. None of it erased the blood on the mat.
Miguel sighed, shaking his head. His thumb traced absent circles over her hand, his anger melting away into something softer, something raw and vulnerable.
"I love you so much, Arizona," he whispered, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the back of her hand. His voice cracked, barely audible. "Please wake up."
Silence.
The heart monitor beeped steadily, unchanging. The machines hummed. Arizona didn't move.
Miguel clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought back the sting of tears. He pressed a lingering kiss to her hand, letting his lips hover there for just a moment longer before pulling away.
He wasn't leaving her. Not now. Not ever.
Arizona drifted.
The space around her was neither dark nor light, neither cold nor warm. It was weightless, boundless, like floating in the middle of an endless ocean with no shore in sight. The air-if there even was air-carried the faintest scent of something familiar, something soft and sweet, like the lingering trace of jasmine on a cool summer breeze. But there was no breeze. There was no direction.
She wasn't sure if she was standing or lying down. Did she even have a body?
There was only silence.
A deep, endless, pressing silence.
Until-
"I love you so much, Arizona. Please wake up."
The words cut through the emptiness, sending ripples through the space around her. A voice. Familiar. Warm. Full of pain.
Miguel.
Arizona's chest tightened. Her fingers twitched-at least, she thought they did. Could she move? Could she reach for him?
"I can't believe this is happening again," Miguel murmured, his voice thick with something that sounded like grief. "First me... now you?"
She tried to turn toward the sound, but there was no direction, no ground beneath her feet, no air to push against. The golden light surrounding her pulsed, slow and steady, like a heartbeat.
"This is all my fault," Miguel whispered. "I-I lost you during the fight. I was trying to help Robby, and then... then you were gone."
No. No, that wasn't true.
Arizona pushed against the invisible weight pressing down on her, struggling to move, to reach, to break free from whatever was keeping her here. She wasn't gone. She was here. She just had to wake up.
"Your dad is gonna rot in jail."
Her breath hitched-if she was even breathing at all. Her father. The fight. The accident. It all came rushing back in broken, scattered fragments. Her father's face twisted in rage. The sound of tires screeching. The impact. The pain.
The pain.
Was she dead?
No. No, she couldn't be. Miguel was talking to her. She could hear him.
"He's going against the jury today," Miguel continued. "They say he's gonna plead insanity. He's feeling regret... got diagnosed with multiple personality disorder."
Arizona's mind reeled. Insanity? Multiple personalities? Regret? No. That wasn't possible. Her father-her father-wasn't capable of regret. He was cruel, unrelenting, a storm of anger that never calmed. He was the reason she was here.
But none of that mattered now. What mattered was waking up. Getting back to Miguel. To her friends. To her life.
"Please wake up."
The desperation in his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing through her.
She had to wake up.
She tried again, willing herself to move, to reach toward his voice, to force herself out of this strange, endless limbo.
And then-
A shadow stepped in front of her.
It hadn't been there before. She hadn't felt its presence approach. But now, it stood before her, unmoving, blocking her path.
It wasn't human. Not really. Its form was fluid, shifting, like smoke trapped in the shape of a person. It had no face, no eyes, no features at all-just a dark, rippling silhouette against the golden light.
Arizona froze.
The figure tilted its head slightly, considering her.
"You're not ready yet," it said.
Its voice was strange-calm and deep, but neither male nor female. It echoed, reverberating through the space like it belonged to something ancient, something beyond time.
Arizona's pulse-if she even had one here-pounded in her ears. "What?"
"You can't go back," the figure said simply.
Her eyes narrowed. "Like hell I can't."
She tried to move past it, but the space around her thickened, as if she were suddenly wading through water. The light dimmed slightly, and the air became heavier, pressing against her skin, keeping her locked in place.
"He needs me," she said, her voice sharp with frustration. "I heard him. He's waiting for me. I have to wake up."
The figure remained silent for a moment, as if weighing her words.
"Needing and being ready are not the same thing," it said at last.
Arizona clenched her jaw, her hands curling into fists. "Screw that. Let me go."
The figure didn't move. The golden light pulsed again, slower this time.
"You are in between," it said. "The path forward is not yet clear."
Arizona's frustration boiled over into anger. "Then I'll make it clear," she snapped. She pushed harder, straining against whatever invisible force held her back.
The light around her flickered. The space trembled.
"Please wake up," Miguel whispered again, softer this time, like his voice was growing further away.
Panic surged in Arizona's chest. She turned toward the sound, desperate, ignoring the figure, ignoring the strange, suffocating stillness pressing in on her. She reached out-reached for him.
The figure sighed, though it made no sound.
"Soon," it murmured. "But not yet."
And then-
The light swallowed her whole.
Miguel sat stiffly in the wooden courtroom bench, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The air was thick with tension, the kind that settled deep into your bones and refused to leave. He could hear the quiet murmurs of the people around him, the occasional shuffle of feet, the creak of the floorboards beneath the weight of so many waiting bodies.
To his right, Arizona's abuela, Alba, sat with her spine straight, her dark eyes sharp and unyielding. Beside her, Arizona's mother, Daniela, looked pale and exhausted, dark circles heavy beneath her eyes. She hadn't spoken much since arriving, only gripping Diego's hand tightly, as if afraid to let go.
Diego sat beside Miguel, his small fingers fidgeting in his lap, his face set in an expression far too serious for an eleven-year-old. He hadn't said much either. No jokes, no complaints, just quiet observation-watching, waiting.
Miguel exhaled slowly, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. This wasn't about him. This was about Arizona. About what her father had done.
About justice.
The sound of a door opening pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned his head just in time to see Alexander being escorted into the courtroom.
Miguel's jaw clenched.
Alexander looked... different. His once imposing figure was thinner, his movements slower, almost unsteady. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, strands of gray more prominent than before. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, his wrists cuffed as he was led to his seat beside his lawyer.
But it was his eyes that unsettled Miguel the most.
They weren't cold or calculating like before. They were distant. Haunted.
As if he barely recognized where he was.
The judge entered, and the court was called to order. The usual formalities followed-the reading of charges, the introduction of the case. Miguel barely registered the words. His focus remained locked on Alexander, on the man who had done so much damage, who had left Arizona broken and bleeding in that hospital bed.
And then, the moment came.
"How does the defendant plead?" the judge asked.
There was a pause. Then-
"Not guilty by reason of insanity."
Miguel's breath caught in his throat.
Beside him, Alba scoffed under her breath, muttering something in rapid Spanish that Miguel didn't quite catch. Daniela tensed, her grip on Diego tightening. Miguel turned to look at the boy, whose expression remained unreadable, his gaze locked on his father.
Miguel could hardly believe it.
Insanity? That was his defense?
The trial continued, the defense presenting their argument. They spoke of Alexander's deteriorating mental state, his diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder, his supposed feelings of guilt and regret.
Miguel wanted to laugh.
Guilt? Regret? That man didn't feel those things. Not when he was hurting Arizona. Not when he was controlling her every move. Not when he was ruining her life.
He barely heard the prosecution's rebuttal, his mind clouded with frustration, anger, disbelief. The arguments dragged on, and Miguel found himself glancing toward Arizona's family, searching for any sign that they felt the same way.
Alba remained stone-faced. Daniela looked down, her shoulders shaking slightly. Diego still didn't move.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, the ruling came.
The judge's voice rang through the courtroom, firm and final.
"The court finds the defendant not guilty by reason of insanity. The defendant will be remanded to a psychiatric facility for treatment."
Silence.
Miguel stared ahead, his heart pounding.
Alexander wasn't going to prison.
He was going to a hospital.
A slap on the wrist. A technicality. A way out.
Miguel swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists. He felt sick.
Arizona had nearly died because of him. And now, he was going to sit in a hospital instead of a prison cell.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't justice.
And as Alexander was led away, his expression vacant, his eyes never once meeting his family's, Miguel couldn't help but wonder-
Was this truly over?
Or had it just begun?
The hospital room was still, bathed in the soft glow of the evening light filtering through the blinds. The only sound was the steady beeping of the heart monitor, a slow, rhythmic reminder that Arizona was still here, still breathing-but not awake. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with the faint floral fragrance of the bouquet Sam had brought, now wilting slightly in the vase by the window.
Dylan stood at the foot of the bed, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his hoodie, staring at Arizona like if he looked hard enough, she'd open her eyes. But she didn't. She just lay there, motionless, her dark hair splayed across the pillow, her skin too pale. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel right.
Sam stood beside him, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together. She had been quieter than usual on the drive over, the weight of everything pressing down on her. Now, standing in front of Arizona, the silence stretched between them.
Sam finally exhaled, stepping closer. "I, um..." Her voice was unsteady, and she cleared her throat, forcing herself to continue. "I know we haven't really been close lately. I know we didn't always get along." A small, breathless laugh escaped her. "Honestly, we annoyed the hell out of each other sometimes."
She hesitated, looking down at Arizona's hand resting limply on the blanket. "But I always knew you were good. Even when you pretended not to be. You had this way of acting like you didn't care, like nothing got to you, but I saw through it. I see you, Arizona."
Her fingers hovered above Arizona's, barely touching. "And I need you to wake up. Miguel needs you. Dylan needs you. We all do." Her voice wavered, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "You're one of the strongest people I know. So fight. Please."
For a moment, the only response was the mechanical hum of the hospital equipment. Sam let out a slow breath and gave Arizona's hand a final squeeze before pulling away. She turned to Dylan, her eyes searching his face.
"I'll be outside," she murmured, her voice soft but steady, before slipping out of the room, leaving Dylan alone.
The door clicked shut, and in an instant, Dylan felt like he couldn't breathe. His throat tightened, and a sharp, aching pressure settled in his chest. He had been holding it together for weeks-for Miguel, for Diego, for himself. But now, standing here, just the two of them, the weight of everything crashed down on him.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to move. Slowly, he sank into the chair beside the bed, his fingers gripping the edge of the mattress as he stared at her.
"God, Arizona," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know how to do this without you."
His hands trembled as he reached for hers, clasping her fingers between his own. They were cold. Too cold. It sent a shiver up his spine.
"You've always been there for me. Always." His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "And now I'm supposed to just sit here and wait? I can't. I won't."
His fingers tightened around hers as if he could anchor her back to him, back to reality. His breathing was unsteady, his chest rising and falling too fast.
"I know you can hear me," he whispered, desperate. "I know you're still in there. So wake up. Please."
His free hand shot up, running through his messy curls, his frustration, fear, and grief bleeding into every word.
"I can't lose you too." His voice broke entirely, the weight of it crashing over him.
Dylan let his head fall, resting his forehead against their intertwined hands, his body trembling with the force of everything he had been trying to hold in.
"Wake up, Arizona," he pleaded, his voice barely more than a breath. "Please."
The heart monitor continued its slow, steady beeping. The machines hummed. The world outside kept turning.
But Arizona didn't move.
Arizona found herself standing in the middle of an endless, glassy lake. The water beneath her feet was impossibly still, mirroring the pale lavender sky above. It was neither warm nor cold-just there, like the entire world was holding its breath. A soft breeze rippled through her hair, yet the water didn't stir. Everything was silent, save for the distant hum of something she couldn't quite place.
She had been here before-this place of in-between. A liminal space, where time stretched and folded, where reality blurred at the edges. She had wandered, waited, listened. Heard voices-faint echoes of the real world reaching through the veil. Miguel. Dylan. Sam. They had been calling to her, pleading. But every time she tried to follow their voices, something held her back.
And then he appeared again.
The figure stood a few feet away, shrouded in an aura of shifting light, neither man nor woman, old nor young. Their presence was both familiar and foreign, as if they had been watching her for a long time. Their face was obscured, but their voice was calm, almost soothing.
"It's time."
Arizona stiffened, her bare feet pressing against the water's surface. "For what?" Her own voice felt distant, like it didn't quite belong to her.
"To wake up."
Her pulse-if she even had one here-quickened. She had asked before. Begged before. Every time, the answer had been the same: Not yet.
Now, finally, it had changed.
She took a slow step forward, expecting the water to ripple, but it remained smooth as glass. "I'm ready?" she asked, searching for confirmation.
The figure inclined their head. "Yes."
Something inside her stirred-an urgency, a pull. She could feel it now, the thread tethering her to the real world, taut and vibrating, waiting for her to take hold.
Her breath hitched. "They need me," she murmured.
"Yes," the figure agreed. "And you need them."
Arizona's gaze flickered around the endless horizon, that deep, infinite stillness stretching in every direction. A month. She had been trapped here for a month. She had heard them, felt them, but she had been unable to move, unable to fight.
Until now.
A sharp wind whipped through the air, stirring the lake for the first time. The glassy surface fractured, sending ripples outward. The hum grew louder, more insistent. A sensation spread through her chest, hot and electric, like a spark catching fire.
The figure stepped back, their form beginning to fade into the shifting light. "It's time to go, Arizona."
The wind howled now, and the world around her started to bend, the sky swirling, the water shattering beneath her feet like a mirror breaking apart.
Arizona closed her eyes.
She let go.
-
The first thing she felt was pain. A deep, aching soreness in her body, like she had been asleep for centuries. The second was light-too bright, too harsh against her eyelids. And then-sound. The beeping of monitors. A sharp inhale that wasn't hers.
Arizona's chest rose sharply, her fingers twitching against stiff sheets. A shuddering gasp tore from her lips as she felt her body again, truly felt it, heavy and real and alive.
Then, as if breaking the surface of the deepest water, her eyes shot open.
Arizona's head felt heavy, like it was filled with cement, and every part of her body ached in a way she couldn't quite explain. The world around her was hazy, muted, and distant. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the first thing she fully registered, then the sterile smell of the hospital room, then-
"She's awake!"
That voice.
Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was Diego's wide, teary eyes staring at her from the chair beside her bed. His face was paler than she'd ever seen, his usually energetic demeanor replaced with cautious relief, like he was afraid that if he moved too fast, she'd slip away again.
"Arizona?" he whispered, as if saying her name too loudly would shatter the moment.
Her throat was dry, and when she tried to speak, it came out hoarse and weak. "Diego..."
He shot up from his chair, grabbing her hand like he had to make sure she was really there. "You-you were in a coma," he said quickly, his voice thick with emotion. "For a month. A whole month, Ari. We thought..." He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "But you're okay now. You're awake."
A month. The words sent a chill through her, but she barely had time to process them before Diego kept talking, as if he had to tell her everything before she slipped back under.
"You don't remember anything, do you?"
Arizona frowned. There were flashes-blurry images that didn't quite make sense. Anger. Pain. A fight. But nothing solid. "I... I don't know."
Diego took a shaky breath. "You fought Dad, Arizona. On live TV. Everyone saw it. You called him out in front of the whole world, and you-you were winning." His voice wavered. "But then... he had a knife."
Arizona's heart skipped a beat. A knife.
More flashes came back. The sharp, searing pain. The blood. The way the world tilted as she fell.
"He stabbed me," she whispered, her hand instinctively moving to her side. There was a thick bandage beneath her hospital gown, pressing against the place where the blade had cut into her.
Diego nodded, his grip on her hand tightening. "Yeah. But you didn't go down easy. You fought until you couldn't anymore, and then the cops took him away. He's gone now, Ari. He can't hurt us anymore."
Gone. The word should have brought relief, but all Arizona felt was exhaustion.
Before she could respond, the door to her hospital room flew open.
"Arizona!"
The next thing she knew, Miguel was there, moving so fast she barely had time to react before his lips were on hers. The kiss was desperate, full of relief and longing, like he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go. Arizona barely had the strength to kiss him back, but she tried, her fingers weakly curling into his shirt.
When he finally pulled away, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as his eyes searched hers. He looked different-more tired, more raw-but the love in his gaze was the same.
"I thought I lost you," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "For a whole month, Arizona. A whole month of waking up and not knowing if you'd ever wake up too. I-I couldn't breathe, I couldn't sleep, I-" He broke off, exhaling shakily. "God, I love you. I love you so much, you don't even know."
Arizona blinked up at him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. She could see it all in his eyes-how much he'd suffered while she was unconscious, how deeply he felt for her.
She tried to speak, but her voice cracked. "Miguel..."
His grip on her tightened like he was grounding himself in her presence. "You're everything to me, okay? And I don't care what happened, I don't care how bad things got-I just need you here. With me."
Arizona swallowed the lump in her throat, her chest aching-not just from her injury, but from the weight of everything. Of what she'd done. Of what she'd survived.
Diego, still at her side, cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, I'm still here, by the way."
Miguel barely spared him a glance. "I don't care."
Arizona let out a weak laugh, her fingers brushing against Miguel's wrist. "I'm here," she murmured, voice raspy but certain. "I'm not going anywhere."
Miguel let out a breath like he'd been holding it for a month. And maybe, in a way, he had.
The showroom of LaRusso Auto Group was brightly lit, the gleaming surfaces of the cars reflecting the fluorescent lights above. The air smelled of leather and polished chrome, and the soft hum of business conversations carried from the front desk. Sam stood beside Dylan, both of them staring at a sleek red car parked in the center of the showroom, a giant bow perched neatly on top like the final touch to a perfect gift.
Dylan let out a low whistle, nodding in appreciation. "Man, imagine getting something like this as a gift. That's gotta be nice." He smirked at Sam. "You think your dad would hook me up with a discount?"
Sam gave him a small, tired smile, but before she could answer, her mother's voice rang out from behind them.
"Did you hear who your dad sold a car to this morning?" Amanda asked as she approached, a knowing look in her eyes.
Sam's shoulders stiffened. She had, in fact, already heard the story multiple times-over breakfast, in the car, and again when she first walked into the dealership with Dylan. She didn't need to hear it again.
She sighed and shot a glance at Dylan, then back at her mom. "I did, like, ten times," she said, her voice edged with forced politeness. "It's all he wants to talk about."
As if summoned, Daniel strode over, looking pleased with himself. He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Dylan, hear who I sold a car to this morning?"
Sam turned to Dylan and gave him a dry look. "See?" she muttered under her breath.
Dylan, still oblivious to Sam's growing irritation, looked at Daniel with genuine curiosity. "Uh, who?"
"A big shot at UCLA admissions," Amanda revealed, her voice tinged with amusement as she watched Dylan's reaction.
His eyes widened with excitement. "Oh my God! We could be going to college together?" He turned to Sam, his grin bright and expectant, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.
Sam froze for a split second before forcing another tight smile. "Yeah," she breathed out, her voice a little too flat.
"I mean, it's still early though," she added quickly, hoping to ground his excitement just a little.
"Still!" Dylan beamed, clearly unfazed by her lukewarm reaction.
Sam nodded faintly, but her lips pressed together as her smile wavered. Dylan didn't seem to notice, too caught up in the moment, but Amanda did.
Her mother's sharp eyes flickered over Sam's face, taking in the hesitation, the stiffness in her posture, the way her fingers subtly curled into the hem of her shirt.
Sam could feel her mom watching her, but she didn't look back. Instead, she kept her gaze on the red car in front of her, her stomach twisting in knots.
Because deep down, she wasn't sure if UCLA was what she really wanted-or if she just didn't want to disappoint everyone by admitting it.
The air inside LaRusso Auto Group was alive with energy. Laughter and chatter mixed with the faint hum of engines, and the glossy showroom floor reflected the glow of overhead lights. Families milled about, checking out cars with the signature LaRusso nameplate, while employees handed out refreshments and promotional pamphlets. Arizona took it all in, her steps steady but slow. It had only been a few days since she was discharged from the hospital, but staying home, trapped in silence, wasn't an option. She needed to be here-to feel normal again.
Miguel, ever watchful, walked beside her, his gaze flickering toward her every few moments. "Hey, you sure you want to be here? If you need to, we can head out early-"
Arizona cut him off before he could finish. She turned to him, her expression calm, almost thoughtful. "The river never stops flowing, even after a storm. I can't let the past keep me stuck on the shore."
Miguel raised an eyebrow, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "So... that means you're fine?"
Arizona smirked. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He studied her for a second longer, then nodded, deciding not to push.
As they moved deeper into the showroom, a familiar voice called out, "Arizona!"
She turned just as Dylan and Sam approached. Dylan, ever energetic, had an eager grin on his face, while Sam trailed slightly behind him, her expression unreadable.
"Hey, bestie!" Dylan greeted, practically bouncing in place. "Got some big news for you." He nudged Sam with his elbow. "Go on, tell her."
Sam sighed, shooting Dylan a brief look before glancing at Arizona. "So... apparently, my dad sold a car to someone from UCLA admissions this morning," she said, her tone even-too even.
Arizona arched an eyebrow. "And?"
Dylan beamed. "It means Sam might be going to UCLA with me! Isn't that awesome?"
Sam forced a small smile. "Yeah. Awesome," she said, but there was something off in the way she said it.
Arizona's instincts immediately kicked in. The hesitation, the lack of excitement, the way Sam wasn't quite making eye contact-it wasn't adding up. She knew Sam too well.
She glanced at Miguel, then back at Dylan. "Hey, why don't you and Miguel go... I don't know, mingle or whatever?"
Dylan frowned. "But I wanna-"
"Dylan." Arizona gave him a pointed look.
He groaned but relented. "Fine, fine. But you better not be talking about me."
Miguel gave Arizona a questioning glance, but when she nodded at him, he shrugged and led Dylan away, distracting him with talk about the newest model cars.
Once they were gone, Arizona turned back to Sam, folding her arms. "Okay, what's up? And don't even try to lie to me."
Sam hesitated for a moment, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Finally, she exhaled. "I don't want to go to UCLA," she admitted, her voice quieter than before.
Arizona blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Then where do you want to go?"
Sam hesitated before answering, almost like she was afraid to say it out loud. "I applied to do a study abroad program in Okinawa."
Arizona's eyes widened. "No way! Sam, that's amazing!"
For the first time in the conversation, Sam's smile was real. "Yeah... I just don't know how to tell Dylan, you know? He's so excited about us going to UCLA together, and I don't even know if I got in yet. I don't want to get his hopes up just to crush them."
Arizona smirked slightly, leaning in as she said, "The tree does not fear the coming of winter, because it knows spring will return."
Sam tilted her head. "And that means...?"
Arizona chuckled. "It means stop overthinking it. You don't owe anyone an explanation for doing what's right for you."
Sam let out a breath of relief. "Thanks."
A thought crossed Arizona's mind, and her smirk widened. "Wait, should I apply too? You think I could go to Okinawa with you?"
Sam's face lit up. "You totally should! The only reason I even thought about it is because of all the stories my dad told me about his time there with Mr. Miyagi."
Arizona nodded, the idea settling into her mind. "Alright, then. I'll apply."
The chatter and laughter of the crowd quieted as Daniel LaRusso stepped forward, gently tapping his glass with a knife. The soft clink echoed through the showroom, catching the attention of everyone in attendance. The warm glow of the lights reflected off the polished cars, and a quiet sense of anticipation settled over the group as Daniel cleared his throat, a familiar, heartfelt smile on his face.
"I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for being here with us tonight," Daniel began, his voice carrying the weight of eighteen years of hard work and dedication. "We are incredibly lucky to be surrounded by friends, family... and the family that we have chosen-the LaRusso Auto Family."
The room filled with murmurs of agreement, heads nodding, smiles growing. Arizona found herself watching Daniel closely, his words carrying a sincerity that resonated deeply. Beside her, Dylan stood with his hands clasped, grinning, completely invested in the moment.
Daniel continued, his voice steady and full of pride. "Family means that we love and support each other, no matter what. It means standing together through the tough times and celebrating the victories, no matter how big or small. And as I look around this room tonight, I couldn't be prouder of every step forward we've taken together. Because even after eighteen incredible years... there's still so much ahead of us."
Arizona exchanged a glance with Miguel, who gave her a small smile. She hadn't been to many of these events before, but she could tell this one felt special.
"In the early days of this business," Daniel continued, "things were pretty uncertain. We knew we were taking a risk. We had no idea if we'd be well-received, if we'd even make it past the first year. But we built something of our own. We trusted each other. And we trusted that no matter what, it would all work out... because we had each other." He let that thought linger for a moment before lifting his glass higher. "So tonight, I want to say thank you. To everyone in this family, both old and new. Here's to the next step forward."
A chorus of agreement spread through the room as glasses were raised. Arizona lifted hers, smiling softly, while Dylan grinned ear to ear, tapping his glass against hers with a bright clink.
As the celebratory cheers settled, Sam turned to the group, lowering her voice slightly. "Hey, I heard that the Sekai Taikai is still back on."
Arizona, Robby, Dylan, and Miguel immediately stiffened at her words, exchanging looks filled with curiosity and determination. Without hesitation, they all turned toward Daniel, making their way through the small crowd until they reached him.
"Dad, is it true?" Sam asked, her tone firm but hopeful. "Is the tournament back on?"
Daniel and Johnny exchanged a glance, an unspoken conversation passing between them before Daniel exhaled, looking at the group in front of him. "It's true," he confirmed. "If that's what you all want."
The weight of those words settled between them. A challenge. A choice. But for Sam, Miguel, Arizona, and Robby, the answer was obvious.
Sam smirked, her confidence unwavering as she met the eyes of her teammates. "Bring 'em on."
ASH SPEAKS!!!
hiii!! welcome back to the final chapters. i can't believe this is happening :( we only have a few chapters left and then this over.
i'm so excited for what is stored left!! so please don't be a ghost reader and keep voting, commenting and reading.
updates will be every 2-5 days only because i have to update a lot more fanfics now! i am not abandoning any fic, i just have more fics to update now so updates MIGHT be slow.
also today is the first day of cobra kai s6 part 3, so no spoilers please for those who might not be finished with cobra kai :)
but again, no ghost readers please!!! this almost the end!! please vote and comment :)
PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!
STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!
im so sorry for all the notifications but please stop being a ghost reader!!!! i dont how many times i have to say this. i am so sorry for the notifications but this is really annoying to see views go up when the votes aren't.
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