chapter sixty-two:
❛ strike last (3) ❜

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Arizona stood in the arena, her heart hammering against her ribs. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a sea of cheers and shouts that blurred together into an almost hypnotic hum. But despite the overwhelming noise, her mind was laser-focused on one thing-her upcoming match. This was it. The final bout. The moment that would determine everything. And, of all people, she was going up against Zara Malik.

Zara, the biggest egotistical bitch to ever step on a mat. The girl who strutted around like she owned the world, who talked down to her opponents as if they were beneath her, who carried herself with an arrogance so thick it made Arizona's skin crawl. Beating her wouldn't just mean a victory-it would be justice. It would be shutting her up once and for all.

Arizona shifted on her feet, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nerves making her stomach churn. She needed to see Miguel. If she could just find him, maybe the anxiety twisting in her chest would loosen, if only for a moment.

Before she could spot him, a firm nudge to her arm made her turn.

"Bubblegum," Johnny Lawrence's voice cut through the noise like a grounding force. "Just focus on what you need to do out there and nothing else."

His tone was serious, but there was a glint of encouragement in his eyes. He knew how much this meant. He knew the pressure she was under.

Arizona swallowed hard, nodding, but her fingers still found their way to her mouth, biting at her nails.

Just then, Miguel finally walked over, and she felt a small rush of relief.

Johnny, however, wasn't done. He looked between the two of them. "Both of you," he added, his voice steady, commanding.

Arizona exhaled, trying to shake off the nerves.

"Don't worry about your overall points. Just win your fight," Johnny reassured her. "Okay?"

Arizona opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Miguel spoke up first.

"No."

Arizona turned to him, blinking in confusion. "What?"

"There's no way in hell we're letting Silver buy himself another title." Miguel's voice was firm, unwavering.

A slow grin spread across Arizona's face. He was right. They had come too far to let Silver's corruption win. They had a chance to take control of this match, to prove that true skill could beat dirty money and bribed officials.

"We can close the gap," Arizona said, her confidence igniting like a flame inside her.

Johnny smirked. "Badass."

Just then, Gunther walked onto the mat, microphone in hand. The noise in the arena surged as all attention shifted toward the center of the competition floor.

"Who is ready for some karate?" Gunther's booming voice rang out, and the audience erupted into cheers.

Arizona rolled her shoulders, shaking out her arms. Across the mat, Zara stood tall, her expression smug, exuding confidence like she had already won. Arizona clenched her jaw. Not today.

"Our championship finals bout will follow the same structure as our semifinals," Gunther continued. "Three rounds, two minutes each, with unlimited scoring. Knockdowns are worth ten points, and if a downed fighter cannot reengage within ten seconds, they will be considered knocked out and their opponent awarded twenty points."

Arizona took a slow, steady breath. She could do this.

Gunther wasn't finished. "The individual title goes to the competitor who scores the most points over these three rounds."

Miguel turned to her, his warm brown eyes locking onto hers. "You got this, babe." He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

Arizona felt the last of her nerves melt away.

"And now," Gunther announced, "the final match to determine our female world champion. Please welcome to the mat, Arizona Alvarez of Cobra Kai and Zara Malik of The Iron Dragons!"

The crowd roared as both girls stepped forward, meeting at the center of the mat. Arizona could feel the heat of the lights, the energy in the air, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

Zara smirked at her, tilting her head slightly. "Hope you're ready to lose," she taunted.

Arizona didn't blink. She just stared back, her expression unreadable.

Zara might be confident now.

But by the end of this match?

Arizona was going to wipe that smirk right off her face.

The air in the arena was thick with anticipation, the weight of countless eyes pressing down on Arizona as she stepped onto the mat. The cool surface beneath her feet was smooth, grounding her, but the storm of adrenaline brewing inside her made her fingers twitch.

Across from her, Zara Malik stood with effortless arrogance, her expression dripping with smug confidence. The girl had the audacity to lift a hand and wave, not in greeting, but in mockery-a slow, taunting flick of her fingers that sent a ripple of laughter through her supporters in the crowd.

Arizona's jaw tightened, but she didn't react. She couldn't afford to. This wasn't about personal grudges or pride. This was about proving something-not just to everyone watching, but to herself.

The referee stepped forward, his sharp gaze flicking between the two fighters.

"Fighters, bow."

Arizona dipped her head with respect, her movement fluid and controlled. Zara, on the other hand, barely inclined hers, her smirk never faltering. The sheer disrespect made Arizona's fingers itch to curl into fists, but she forced herself to stay calm.

The referee's voice rang out, clear and commanding.

"Fight!"

Arizona's body responded before her mind did, settling instinctively into her stance. She grounded herself in Miyagi-Do's principles-solid, defensive, patient. She wouldn't rush in. She wouldn't let her emotions dictate her movements. She would wait.

And then Zara struck-fast.

A sharp front kick shot toward Arizona's ribs. She deflected it smoothly, redirecting the energy as she had practiced countless times. Zara didn't hesitate. A high roundhouse came next, but Arizona shifted her weight, absorbing the impact without stumbling.

The first few exchanges felt measured, controlled. But then Zara's attacks became ruthless.

Blow after blow came at Arizona in relentless waves-kicks aimed for her sides, punches seeking out openings in her guard. She blocked, she dodged, she deflected-but she didn't counter. She could hear Johnny's voice in her head. Let the opponent come to you. Use their energy against them.

But it wasn't working.

Zara was racking up points, and fast.

A sharp strike to her ribs-point. A quick jab to her torso-another.

Arizona gritted her teeth as the scoreboard loomed overhead, the numbers ticking against her.

10-5.

Then 15-7.

By the time the first round ended, Zara had pulled ahead by ten points.

Arizona's chest rose and fell heavily as she walked off the mat. Frustration boiled beneath her skin, simmering dangerously close to breaking the surface. Johnny and Miguel were already waiting for her on the sidelines.

"Okay, Bubblegum, what the hell was that?" Johnny's arms were crossed, his expression unimpressed.

Arizona wiped sweat from her forehead, barely catching her breath. "I'm trying to do it the right way," she said, her voice tight. "Miyagi-Do. Defense."

Miguel exhaled sharply. "Arizona, I get it. But Zara's not playing fair. She's coming at you with everything, and you're just standing there waiting for an opening that isn't coming."

Johnny nodded. "You keep turtling up, you're gonna get steamrolled."

Arizona clenched her jaw. Her voice dropped. "I can't go on offense." She hesitated, but then the words tumbled out before she could stop them. "What if I go too far? What if-what if my old self comes out?"

Silence.

Then Miguel stepped closer, his dark brown eyes steady, unwavering. "Hey," he said softly. "That's not who you are anymore."

Johnny placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "That fire you've got? You control it now. It doesn't control you."

Miguel smiled, just enough for the teasing warmth to reach his eyes. "You're a Zen Master, remember?"

Arizona exhaled slowly. The corners of her lips twitched slightly.

She had changed.

And she wasn't going to let Zara walk away with this title.

Miguel gave her a reassuring nod. "Go win this thing."

Arizona turned back toward the mat, her mind clearer, her focus sharper.

The second round began.

And this time, she didn't just wait. She moved.

Zara lunged, but Arizona sidestepped smoothly, lightning-fast. Before Zara could recover, Arizona struck-clean, precise, a punch to the ribs.

10-15.

Zara's smirk wavered.

She charged again. Arizona blocked, but instead of just absorbing the impact, she retaliated-spinning into a sharp crescent kick that landed on Zara's shoulder.

15-15.

The crowd erupted.

For the first time, uncertainty flickered in Zara's eyes. The unwavering confidence, the taunting arrogance-it cracked, just slightly.

Arizona pressed forward, each movement a seamless blend of aggression and control. A well-placed sidekick sent Zara stumbling.

25-15.

Zara came in wild, throwing a flurry of desperate strikes. Arizona weaved through them effortlessly, countering with a powerful punch to the gut.

35-15.

The round ended.

Arizona stood tall, breathing hard, sweat trickling down her spine.

She was winning.

Zara was furious. The frustration radiated off her in waves as the third and final round began. She exploded forward, throwing everything she had left into her strikes, but now-Arizona wasn't just defending.

She was dominating.

A spinning back kick sent Zara sprawling onto the mat.

The referee started the count. "One! Two! Three-"

Zara pushed herself up at the last second, barely avoiding a knockout.

But Arizona didn't let up.

Zara threw a desperate punch, but Arizona ducked, using her momentum against her. She pivoted, launching into a flawless tornado kick. Her foot connected with Zara's jaw.

The impact sent Zara crashing down.

The ref stepped in.

"Knockout! Arizona Alvarez wins!"

The arena erupted.

The noise barely registered before Arizona felt herself being lifted-Miguel had reached her first, arms wrapping around her as he spun her in excitement.

"You did it!" he shouted, his voice pure exhilaration.

Arizona barely had time to catch her breath before his hands found her face, tilting her head up-and then his lips were on hers.

For a moment, the world blurred. There was only him-warm, steady, proud.

When they finally pulled apart, the rest of her team was already surging toward her.

Demetri. Hawk. Dylan. Sam. And Robby-hobbling forward on crutches, but grinning nonetheless.

They engulfed her in a crushing hug, laughter and cheers echoing in her ears.

Somewhere in the chaos, she felt the weight of a trophy being pressed into her hands.

She looked down at it, and for the first time all night-her vision blurred with tears.

She had won.

Not just the match. Not just the title.

She had proven, to everyone-including herself-that she was strong. That she had changed.

Lifting the trophy high, she let the roar of the crowd wash over her.

The arena shook with the sound of her name.

The roar of the crowd had died down, replaced by the low hum of anticipation as fighters prepared for the next round of matches. Even with the intermission, the energy in the arena remained thick, charged with the lingering intensity of the fights before.

Miguel sat on a bench near the sidelines, his elbows propped on his knees, hands clasped together tightly. His head was bowed slightly, dark curls hanging forward, but Arizona didn't miss the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fingers flexed and unflexed like he was holding something in.

She knew that look.

She had seen it in herself before.

Arizona walked up, arms crossed, then nudged his knee with hers. "You look like you're about to either throw up or murder someone. Please tell me it's the first one."

Miguel let out a short, humorless laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Not there yet."

Arizona frowned. "You ready?"

Miguel didn't answer right away. He exhaled through his nose, staring at the mat like it held the answers.

"Yeah," he finally said, but his voice lacked conviction.

Arizona didn't buy it. She dropped onto the bench beside him, leaning forward slightly, waiting. When he didn't say anything else, she spoke again, softer now.

"Miguel."

Nothing.

She bumped her knee against his again. "Talk to me."

He inhaled sharply, then ran a hand over his face before finally speaking.

"It's Axel." His voice was tight. "I know I should just focus on fighting him, but every time I think about what he did to Robby-" His hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening. "I don't want to just beat him. I want to hurt him."

Arizona studied him carefully, letting the weight of his words settle between them before she responded. She had felt this before-the fire, the need to make someone pay. She understood it more than anyone.

But she also knew where that road led.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "Then let's talk about the river."

Miguel blinked, caught off guard. "The what?"

Arizona turned to him fully, her expression calm, her voice measured.

"The river," she repeated. "It flows. No resistance. No ego. No anger. Just water, moving with the world, not against it."

Miguel groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay, now I know I'm in trouble. You've gone full Zen Master on me."

Arizona smirked. "Miguel, if you fight with anger, you're fighting against yourself. Against the river." She tapped his forehead lightly. "And the river always wins."

Miguel shook his head. "Arizona, this guy-he deserves whatever he gets."

"Maybe," she said, tilting her head. "But do you?"

Miguel hesitated.

She pressed on. "You think breaking Axel's ribs or knocking him out cold is gonna fix what happened to Robby?" She gestured toward the other side of the arena, where Robby sat in the stands, his crutches propped up beside him. "Hurting Axel won't take back what he did. But it will make you more like him."

Miguel exhaled sharply, his knee bouncing slightly. He was still worked up, still tense. Arizona reached out and placed a hand over his, grounding him.

"I get it," she said, voice steady. "That fire in your chest? That need to make things right? I've been there, Miguel. But I also know that fire can burn you up from the inside if you let it."

Miguel's fingers relaxed slightly beneath hers.

She squeezed his hand once before pulling back. "You don't need anger to win this fight. You need focus. Axel is gonna come at you hoping you lose control-don't give him that."

Miguel sighed, tilting his head back briefly before looking at her again. "So what, I'm supposed to be the river?"

Arizona nodded. "Exactly." She poked his chest lightly. "Be the river, Miguel."

He gave her a look. "You are so weird."

Arizona grinned. "And yet, I'm still the one giving the best advice."

Miguel stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled deeply, some of the tension in his body finally easing. "Alright, alright. No revenge-fueled ass-kicking."

"Good." Arizona beamed. "Now go win."

Miguel nodded, standing up. But before he could turn away, Arizona reached for his wrist.

He glanced back, and she met his gaze, her expression softening.

"No matter what happens," she said, voice quieter now, "remember who you are."

Miguel swallowed, then gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

Dylan sat on the bleachers, his knee bouncing as he waited for Sam to come back. His fingers fidgeted with the loose threads on the sleeve of his hoodie, a familiar nervous habit. The energy in the arena was still buzzing from the previous match, but his mind was elsewhere-mostly on how cool Sam had looked out there fighting and how he still couldn't believe she was actually his girlfriend.

Lost in thought, he shifted slightly, accidentally knocking her jacket off the seat beside him.

"Oops-sorry, sorry," he muttered, scrambling to pick it up. As he lifted it, a folded envelope slipped out of the pocket and fluttered to the floor.

Frowning, Dylan reached for it, about to tuck it back in-until he saw the words printed neatly at the top:

Congratulations, Samantha LaRusso! You have been accepted to our Study Abroad Program in Okinawa.

His stomach dropped.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

First, Arizona had been accepted to this program-his best friend, gone for months-and now Sam, too? His girlfriend? The girl he kissed in secret corners when no one was looking? The girl who somehow, miraculously, liked his nerdy, rambling self back?

Oh, God.

Dylan swallowed hard, feeling the panic bubbling up in his throat. Was she leaving? When was she leaving? Why hadn't she told him?

"Dylan?"

Sam's voice rang through the air, light and questioning, and he whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"HI!" he blurted, way too loudly.

Sam stopped in her tracks, eyebrows raising in amusement. "Uh... hey? What's going on?"

Dylan quickly hid the letter behind his back. "NOTHING. Nothing's going on. Just me. Sitting. Like a normal, not-at-all-panicking person."

Sam squinted at him. "Okay, now I know something's up."

She took a step closer, and Dylan immediately folded like a cheap lawn chair. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled the letter from behind his back and held it up.

"This fell out of your jacket," he admitted, voice a little higher-pitched than usual. "And, uh, I saw it. And now I'm freaking out a tiny bit-okay, a lot-because first Arizona was going, and now you're going, and it's like-" He gestured wildly. "Everyone is going to Okinawa except me! And I'm just gonna be here, all by my lonesome, probably talking to Eli about obscure sci-fi references while secretly pining for my-" He cut himself off with a cough, cheeks going red. "Uh. You get it."

Sam stared at him for a second, then let out a soft laugh.

"Dylan..." she reached for his hands, squeezing them gently. "I was going to tell you. I just... wasn't sure when."

Dylan looked at her, still jittery. "So it's real? You're really going?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. But only for a semester."

Dylan inhaled sharply, then exhaled just as quickly. "That's still so many months."

Sam smiled, leaning in slightly. "You do realize they have phones in Okinawa, right? And video calls? And texting? I'm not disappearing off the face of the earth."

Dylan chewed his lip, still looking like a kicked puppy. "Yeah, but it won't be the same..."

Sam softened, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. "Hey," she murmured, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "I'll miss you too, you know."

Dylan swallowed. "You will?"

She laughed. "Obviously. You're my boyfriend, Dylan."

He turned even redder, if that was possible. "Right, right. Of course. Just making sure."

Sam rolled her eyes playfully, then, to his absolute shock, leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Dylan practically short-circuited.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish before he finally managed to stammer, "Okay. Maybe I'll survive a semester."

Sam grinned. "You definitely will."

Dylan sighed dramatically. "Fine, but only if you promise to bring me back something cool. Like, I don't know, a samurai sword or an ancient scroll of forbidden knowledge."

Sam laughed, squeezing his hands again. "Deal."

And just like that, the panic in his chest settled, replaced by something lighter-something warm. He wasn't thrilled about the idea of her leaving, but if anyone could make a long-distance thing work, it was them.

Because, honestly? They were kind of great.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

sorry for splitting episode 14 into so many chapters but i just dont feel like writing TWO fights today! next chapter will be miguels fight :)

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

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

the reason i keep unpublishing and republishing is chapters is because when i see views go up and votes aren't... its really annoying. cause its not hard to vote and show support on fanfics.

can you guys please stop being ghost reader and just freaking vote please. this is so annoying

THIS IS VERY ANNOYING TO SEE VIEWS GO UP BUT NOT VOTES. its annoying for us writers. so please just vote and comment!! its not that hard!!!!!!

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. PLEASE JUST FREAKIN VOTE!!!