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𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 parked her jeep in front of the Reseda strip mall, the late-morning sun bouncing off the hood. She slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, smoothed a stray wave of brunette hair, and stepped inside the dojo. The place was packed with kids—new recruits, by the looks of it.

"What do you think?" Hawk smirked, jerking his thumb toward two boys. "Shithead One and Shithead Two?"

"I was thinking more Mary-Kate and Asshat," Aisha quipped, making Hawk laugh.

"Well, I'm Chris," one of the new boys offered.

"Did I say you could speak?" Hawk fired back.

"Guys, look, they're just messing with you," August said, strolling up with his usual swagger. Stella crossed her arms, already sensing trouble.

"Besides," August grinned, "everyone knows your names are Assface and Douchebag."

"Dibs on Assface," one of the boys snorted.

"Hey, knock it off." Stella's voice cut through the laughter like a blade.

"Hey, chill, Stella," Hawk said, hands up.

"You wanna say that to a Southern woman, Mohawk?" Stella stepped forward, eyes narrowed. Hawk froze. "Didn't think so. Cut the shit. All of you. It's not funny."

Before anyone could reply, the bell over the door jingled. Heads turned.

A man stepped in—broad shoulders, pressed jacket, presence like a shadow creeping across the floor. Stella's stomach tightened.

"Who's that?" Hawk muttered.

"I don't know," August said, though Stella knew better.

August and Stella exchanged a look before approaching. He spoke first, voice respectful but cautious. "Can I help you, sir?"

Kreese's cold eyes flicked from August to Stella, lingering a beat too long. She shifted, instinctively putting herself between him and her brother. He noticed—and smiled like a wolf scenting blood.

"No," Kreese said smoothly. "But maybe I can help you."

"Oh, well, if you're looking for Sensei Lawrence, he should be in—" Stella began, stepping forward, but a voice cut her off.

"Hey."

Johnny strode out of the office, his tone casual, but his stare sharp as broken glass. The second he saw Kreese, something primal flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he closed the distance and stopped just in front of Stella, his broad shoulders forming an unspoken wall between her and Kreese.

"Uh, Sensei..." August started, but his voice faded as Kreese advanced toward Johnny.

"Stella, who is that guy?" August whispered.

"No idea," Stella lied, leading him away. It wasn't her place to tell him. Not yet.

Johnny's jaw flexed. "What the hell is wrong with you? I said tomorrow."

"Oh. Tomorrow, today... who can keep track, huh?" Kreese smirked.

"Stella, I need to talk to you." Johnny's voice snapped like a whip, his eyes never leaving Kreese's.

She nodded, and they slipped into the office. She shut the door, leaning back against the filing cabinet, arms crossed. Johnny sat on the desk like he owned the damn world, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly.

"He's just here to observe." Johnny's voice was low, dangerous.

"Johnny, I know I wasn't even walking the planet back then, but just... don't let what happened back then happen to you again, okay? Promise?" Her voice softened, her eyes locking on his like a lifeline.

For a beat, he just stared at her—this stubborn, fearless woman who somehow made the world tilt under his boots. Then, finally: "Yeah. I promise."

She smiled, relieved.

"What are you doing later?" he asked, the tension easing just enough for a crooked grin.

"Well, after I leave here, I'm having lunch with my dad." She tilted her head. "Why? What were you thinking?"

"If you're not doing anything later, you wanna have dinner with me?" Johnny said.

Her smirk was instant, teasing. "Are you asking me out on a date, Lawrence?"

"Yeah, maybe I am." His grin widened, boyish but hungry.

"I'd love to." Stella's voice was warm now, unguarded. "I'll see you later. Be careful."

Johnny leaned in just a little, that dangerous spark in his eye. "You know, it's hot when you worry about me."

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "So, we're back to flirting? Seriously though. Watch your back. And call me."

She left, the office suddenly feeling emptier than he liked.

Johnny exhaled hard before stepping back onto the mat. Kreese was still there, standing like a storm cloud. Johnny ignored him—for now.

"Class, we have a visitor. This is Mr. Kreese. He's just an observer. Pretend like he's not even here." Johnny's tone was clipped as his gaze swept the room. "Mr. Walker, warm them up."

"Yes, Sensei." August stepped forward. "Fighting positions! Front kick—yuh! Forward strike—yuh! Side dab—yuh!"

The kids broke into the goofy move, dabbing in sync.

Johnny blinked. Kreese's brow furrowed. Johnny's embarrassment ignited into pure rage.

"What the hell was that?" Johnny barked.

"We were just messing around. We have eleven and a half months until the next All Valley," August said.

"Yeah, besides, we already know how to kick ass," Hawk added, smug.

"Oh, yeah, really, huh? So you know everything? There's nothing left to learn?" Johnny stalked forward, eyes drilling into Hawk.

Aisha snorted.

Johnny turned. "What's so funny, Ms. Robinson?"

"I'm sorry, Sensei. You just wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"It's a snake-do."

"What's a snake-do?" Johnny demanded.

The kids started hissing and doing snake hands.

Johnny froze, face like thunder. Kreese looked like he might actually enjoy this humiliation.

"QUIET!" Johnny roared. The walls shook. "5 A.M. Tomorrow morning. Corner of Fulton and Raymer. You don't show, you're off the team. Class dismissed!"

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Stella and Nathan sat in a corner booth at Art's Deli, the comforting hum of conversation blending with Albert Hammond's "It Never Rains in Southern California" spinning on the jukebox. The smell of fresh rye bread and pastrami lingered in the air as Nathan took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes never drifting far from his daughter.

"So," he started, tone easy but curious, "how are clinicals going? You said you were starting at the San Bernardino Hospice Center."

"Good," Stella said, smiling as she stirred her straw through the ice in her soda. "I have a patient who absolutely loves to press the call light. Doesn't even need anything half the time." She let out a small laugh.

Nathan chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Why does he press it all the time then?"

"He said he wanted to see how long it would take for the nurses to get down there." Stella laughed again, shaking her head. "What about you? How's work?"

Nathan leaned back, broad shoulders stretching against the worn leather booth. "I mean, it's not the Texas Rangers Department, but it's fine." His mouth curved in a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Got a call this morning."

"Oh? From who?" Stella asked.

"Grandma Abilene and Aunt Kellie," he said. "Checking in on you and August. I know they still... blame me for what happened to your mother." His voice dropped, heavy with that weight he never seemed to put down.

"Daddy," Stella said softly, her fingers brushing his across the table. "It wasn't anyone's fault. It was a freak accident. It shouldn't have happened, but it did."

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "I know. But you were right—I prioritized work too much. I thought I was doing the right thing, you know? Growing up, I saw how hard my dad worked. Worked his fingers to the bone to keep us afloat. I swore I'd do the same, no matter the cost." His jaw tightened. "Didn't realize the cost was pushing you away. And for that..." He met her eyes, voice thick but steady. "I'm truly sorry."

Stella's throat tightened. "Daddy, it's okay. I forgive you. You know that. I shouldn't have lashed out either—it's just... I miss Mom so much." Her eyes shimmered. "Sometimes, I swear I turn a corner and I almost see her."

Nathan's breath caught. "I know the feeling," he murmured, his rough hand covering hers with quiet strength.

A pause settled between them—soft, bittersweet—before Stella spoke again. "You know, everyone keeps asking me what kind of nurse I want to be. And honestly... Mom loved kids. She loved pediatrics." She smiled faintly. "That's what I want to do."

Nathan's smile was gentle now, pride warming the lines of his face. "Your mom would be damn proud of you. Especially knowing you want to follow in her footsteps."

"Thanks, Daddy." Her voice broke just a little, but the smile stayed.

He cleared his throat lightly. "So... how are things going with you and Johnny?"

Stella's cheeks flushed. "Good. We're still taking it slow. But, um... we're having dinner tonight." The grin gave her away.

Nathan smirked, that protective edge flashing in his eyes. "Well, I meant what I said the other night. He might know karate..." He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a drawl. "...but I know how to use a gun."

Stella laughed, rolling her eyes. "Daddy, you know I can take care of—"

"I know," he cut in gently. "But you're still my little girl." His voice softened, almost a whisper now. "Always will be."

Stella smiled, her heart aching in the best way. "I know."

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

That night, Stella stood in her bedroom, running her fingers along the row of dresses in her closet. Her eyes lingered on one—a baby-blue sundress, soft and delicate, the color of spring skies. It had been her mother's favorite, worn countless times for lunches with friends and family. For a long moment, Stella just held it against her chest, the fabric carrying whispers of perfume and laughter long gone.

Flashback
— Spring 1998; Austin, TX

"Ava, are you ready?" Nathan's asked as he worked the last button through his shirt. The mirror reflected a man smoothing down his collar, George Strait's You Look So Good in Love humming low from the old radio. The music curled through the house like a slow Texas breeze.

"Almost," Ava called back, her voice lilting with that soft Southern sweetness that had owned his heart since the day they met.

Nathan adjusted his collar, then looked up just as she stepped into the doorway. She was luminous—sun-kissed golden hair framing her face, that familiar Almay lipstick painting her smile into something that could stop traffic. She fastened her dainty pearl earrings with practiced ease before turning to him fully.

"Alright," she said, a spark in her eyes. "I'm ready now."

Nathan's breath caught like it always did. "You look beautiful as always." His voice softened as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close like he'd never get enough. "My baby blue."

She arched a brow, laughter dancing on her lips. "Please tell me that's not a reference to George Strait's Baby Blue?"

"Maybe," he teased, his grin slow and lazy as his arms stayed wrapped snug around her waist. "Felt appropriate, seeing as George Strait's playing on the radio."

"Oh, my sweet Nathan." Ava laughed, the sound light as champagne. "Always reciting lyrics from country songs—even though I'm a rocker." She shook her head, amused, as her fingers smoothed the front of his shirt.

Nathan's smile deepened, eyes locked on hers. "Even though we have different music taste," he murmured, voice low and certain, "we go together."

Her smile softened into something tender, like sunlight filtering through lace. "Like the picture needs the frame—we go together."

His chuckle was deep, warm. "Wow. You quoting George and Tammy? Didn't think I'd ever see that."

"You know I love George and Tammy." Ava pressed her forehead to his, her voice dipping to a whisper. Then she drew back just enough to grin. "Now we better go before we're late."

"Who said I wanted to?" Nathan's tone was playful, but the way his arms tightened around her said he meant every word.

"Nathan," she said, laughing again—the kind of laugh that had undone him since the first day.

What they didn't see was a little girl sitting cross-legged at the end of the hallway. Stella watched her parents with wide eyes and a small, secret smile—their love like a living thing in that warm Austin air. It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It was in the way Nathan's rugged hands gentled only for Ava, in the way Ava's laughter bloomed like spring whenever he spoke.

Stella didn't know it then, but she wanted a love like that. The kind that was steady and certain. The kind that never let go. And someday—though it would come in a way she never expected—she'd find it.

──────

Stella stood in front of her bathroom mirror, adjusting the soft folds of her baby-blue dress until it hugged her just right. She clipped on the dainty pearl earrings that once belonged to her mother, the tiny shimmer making her feel both elegant and grounded. A quick spritz of her favorite perfume lingered in the air like a secret, and then—Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Coming!" she called out, grabbing her purse with slightly trembling fingers. Her heart beat faster than it should have as she walked down the hall, heels clicking softly against the floor. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the doorknob and opened it—

—and there he was.

Johnny. Leaning against the doorframe, casual but sharp: worn jeans, fitted black tee, leather jacket slung over one arm. That smirk of his, the one that usually oozed confidence, faltered for a second. His gaze swept over her slowly, like time stopped, and for a beat, he forgot how to breathe.

"Hi." Stella smiled radiantly, unaware—or maybe fully aware—of the effect she had on him.

Johnny swallowed hard, the word tumbling out before he could stop it. "Hey... you—" he blinked, almost annoyed at himself, "you're beautiful."

Her smile curved into something teasing, a spark dancing in her eyes. "Thanks." Then, with a tilt of her head: "And did I just make Johnny Lawrence stutter?"

Johnny shook his head quickly, masking the sudden vulnerability with swagger. "No you did not, princess," he shot back, rolling his eyes like the comeback came easy.

"Whatever." Stella grinned, giving him a playful shove as she stepped past him.

Johnny's hand hovered where she touched him, like he wasn't ready to let the warmth fade. "Getting handsy, are we?" he teased, jangling his car keys in his hand.

"Shut up." Stella laughed, tossing her hair as they walked out together.

Johnny trailed a step behind for a second, taking in the way the dress moved with her, how the late sunlight haloed her like something out of a dream. Jesus Christ, Lawrence, get it together, he thought, forcing his feet forward.

When they reached the lot, Stella stopped and stared. Parked right there, polished and loud, was his Dodge Challenger—Cobra Kai branding gleaming like a badge of honor.

"Um, what the hell?" Stella laughed, eyebrows raised.

Johnny grinned, proud as hell. "What? It's badass." He strode to the passenger side and, with a little flourish, opened the door for her. "After you."

"Well, aren't you a gentleman?" Stella smiled as she slid into the seat, her perfume slipping around him like a trap. Johnny inhaled without meaning to, like he was memorizing it.

"Don't get used to it," he muttered with a smirk, shutting the door before circling to his side.

He climbed in, fired up the engine, and pulled a cassette from the visor with a cocky grin. "Y'know, I promised you I'd show you my mixtapes sometime. Well—" he slid it into the deck with a flick, "—here's one of 'em. It's pretty badass."

"I'll be the judge of that." Stella reached forward, turning up the volume just as Zebra's 'Tell Me What You Want' crackled through the speakers. She smiled. "Alright, sensei. Not bad."

Johnny glanced at her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. "Y'know, I love how you call me sensei."

Stella shot him a look, playful and dangerous all at once. "Don't get any ideas. You're not getting in my pants, Lawrence."

Johnny smirked, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. "I know. I wasn't even going there."

"Yeah, sure you weren't." Stella laughed, shaking her head.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Johnny pulled the Challenger into Sal's parking lot and threw it into park. He turned off the ignition, glancing at Stella with that cocky half-grin of his.

"You sure this is cool?" he asked, voice rough but just a shade uncertain.

"Of course," Stella replied, smiling as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She slid out of the car with an easy grace. "Besides, I've grown to love their burgers."

Inside, the pair settled into a booth. After the waitress took their order, Johnny leaned back, eyes lingering on Stella across the table. He didn't even bother to hide it. Stella caught him staring, and the heat rose in her cheeks despite herself.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, raising her soda to her lips.

"I told you already," Johnny said, unflinching. "You're beautiful. And I meant it."

Stella ducked her head, trying not to grin too wide. "Well... you're not so bad yourself, Lawrence."

Johnny smirked, one brow arching. "So what—you're saying I'm hot?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she flicked her straw wrapper at him. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"Thanks," Johnny chuckled, the sound low and genuine. "So are you."

Their laughter lingered in the air, softening into a comfortable silence until the waitress returned with their food. She set down their plates, refilled their drinks, and left them to it.

Johnny bit into his burger, watching Stella as she dipped her fries in ketchup with a smile. "So," he said, wiping his mouth, "how'd lunch with your dad go?"

Stella sipped her soda, her eyes warming with memory. "It was actually really nice. When we lived in Austin, he used to take me to lunch all the time. Today felt like... old times again."

Johnny nodded, his tone softer now, stripped of bravado. "I'm glad you two worked things out."

"Yeah," Stella said, her smile bright and unguarded. "Me too."

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

After dinner, Johnny and Stella stepped out of Sal's, fingers naturally twining together as they crossed the parking lot. Stella glanced up at him with a smile that made his chest tighten.

"I had a really nice time," she said softly. "Honestly... I don't want the night to end."

Johnny smirked, that cocky glint in his eyes, but his voice came out gentler than usual. "Who says it has to? I've got something I wanna show you."

Stella arched a brow, teasing. "And this thing you're showing me—should I be nervous?"

"Nah," Johnny said, pulling open the Challenger's door for her with an old-school gentleman move he didn't even think about. "Not with me."

They drove with the windows down, the warm California air whipping through Stella's hair as the city lights gave way to the quiet hills of Encino. Eventually Johnny pulled up to a secluded overlook, the kind of place that felt cut off from the world.

"Wow," Stella breathed as they got out. She walked toward the railing, her face lit by the scattered glow of the city below. "This is beautiful. You can see everything from up here."

Johnny shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his usual armor, but there was a rawness in his voice. "I used to come here in high school. After karate practice. Whenever my stepdad was being a total asshole—which was all the time. This place... it was mine. My escape." He paused, his eyes flicking toward her. "I never brought anyone else here."

Stella turned to him, her expression tender. "I can see why. It's peaceful. Feels special."

"Yeah." Johnny gave a short laugh, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he was admitting. "Y'know, I don't usually let my guard down around anyone. Not my thing. But with you... it's different. I don't feel like I have to keep throwing punches all the time. You make me feel like..." His voice cracked, but he pushed through. "Like I'm home. Like maybe everything's finally gonna be okay."

Stella's heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. "Johnny... that's not cheesy at all. I want you to know I'm not going anywhere. The way you look at me—it's like I'm the only woman in the world. No one's ever looked at me like that before."

Johnny's blue eyes locked on hers, intense, burning, and yet unguarded. For once, he didn't have a comeback.

Stella stepped closer, slipping her arms around his neck. Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss, one that spoke more than words could. Johnny's hands instinctively found her waist, pulling her against him as if he was afraid to ever let her go.

When the kiss broke, Stella rested her forehead against his, her breath warm against his lips. "It's okay to let your guard down with me," she whispered.

Johnny's thumb brushed over her cheek, rough yet achingly gentle. "I know, princess," he murmured, his voice low and certain. "And I don't wanna stop."

──────

After the date, Johnny pulled up to Stella's apartment complex building and walked her to the door, their hands naturally laced together.

"Well, thank you for tonight, Johnny," the beautiful brunette said, her voice light but full of something deeper.

"You're welcome, princess." Johnny's grin softened as he said it, the nickname slipping off his tongue like it was made just for her. "You coming to Valley Fest tomorrow?"

"Of course. I'll be there with the girls and Carter." Stella's eyes sparkled as she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

Johnny's hands instinctively found her waist, holding her with a steady grip that betrayed how much he didn't want to let go. "Good," he said simply, the word carrying more weight than it should have.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Johnny." Stella's smile was warm, lingering.

"See you tomorrow." His voice was low, rough around the edges but full of promise. "Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

Their eyes lingered for a beat too long, neither wanting to pull away. And when they finally did, it was with that unmistakable pull between them—the kind that only grew stronger every time they said goodbye.