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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 of Randy Travis' Old Time Christmas played at a low hum through Stella's living room, warm and nostalgic, like the crackle of a distant fire. She moved gracefully through the space, draping garland and hanging stockings along the wall. Her recent Black Friday haul—Pioneer Woman tree skirt, stockings, and rustic décor—gave the room a cozy charm that made her smile. Like Janette, she had a soft spot for the Pioneer Woman.

The last stocking found its place when her phone buzzed across the counter. August.

She answered with a smile. "Hey, baby bro, what's going on?"

"Hey. You have a second to talk?"

"Of course. What's going on, baby bro?" she repeated, concern threading her tone.

"We were at practice today, and Mitch said the city council canceled this year's All Valley Tournament."

Stella froze mid-step, her brow knitting. "What? Why?" She moved to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

"Because they think the tournament and the sport are just gonna encourage violence."

"Let me guess—because of the fight at the high school," Stella muttered.

"Yeah. You think it's because of me?" August asked, his voice small in a way that tugged at her heart.

"No. It has nothing to do with you, honey," she said softly. "This whole karate battle thing has been going on long before we were even thought of. It's sad, but true. Listen—try not to worry about it too much, okay? Go out and have fun with your friends or something."

"Okay, sis. I love you."

"Love you too, hon," she said, her voice warm as they hung up.

Stella set the phone down, but the weight of the news clung to her. The tournament mattered—not just to August, but to Johnny. She could picture him now, jaw set, that restless energy sparking like live wires under his skin. He wouldn't say it, but she knew how much this meant to him. And right now? She needed to see him.

She grabbed her purse, tucking her phone and keys inside, and headed out. The evening air bit at her cheeks as she slid into her jeep and drove toward Reseda.

When she pulled into the familiar lot and parked beside Johnny's battered Dodge Caravan, her pulse quickened. She climbed the stairs and knocked softly.

The door opened to reveal him—broad-shouldered, worn jeans, that rugged ease that could stop her heart with a glance. "Hey." His smile, rare and real, hit her like sunlight. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"Oh, I hope I didn't come at a bad time," she said gently, her own smile tugging at her lips. "I was checking on you."

"Nah, I just got home," he said, stepping back to let her in. "Can I get you anything?"

"Juice is fine," she said, settling onto the couch.

Johnny nodded, heading to the fridge. She watched as he poured orange juice into a glass and brought it over with that awkward chivalry that made her heart ache in the best way.

"Here you go," he said, handing it to her. "Hope the juice is all right. Don't think it's expired yet."

Stella took a sip. It was definitely expired—but she smiled anyway, because this was him. The man who fought tooth and nail for people he cared about. "It's perfectly fine, Johnny. Thank you." She set the glass down, her eyes finding his. "So... how is everything? With the dojo, I mean?"

His shoulders sank as he exhaled, gaze dropping. "August had a hard time today. He wants to compete, but I can't risk him getting hurt. And now... he hates me."

"Johnny," she said softly, leaning forward. "August is a teenager. Have you met my little brother? If he's happy all the time, you're doing something wrong."

He huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. "I just don't wanna screw things up, y'know?"

"Johnny..." Her voice gentled, pulling his eyes back to her. "You've done so much for my brother. You got him out of bed. You got him walking again. You made him smile. And he's never going to forget that. None of us will."

For a beat, silence stretched—warm and weighted. His eyes softened in a way that undid her. Slowly, Johnny reached out, his rough hand sliding into hers like it had always belonged there. Stella's breath hitched as her fingers curled around his, their palms fitting like a promise.

"August told me about the tournament," she murmured.

"Who needs that bullshit anyway?" Johnny muttered, though his jaw was tight.

"Johnny..." Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, grounding him. "You need it."

His gaze flicked up, searching hers.

"You all worked so hard," she said, her voice steady, tender. "I can see how important it is for you. As for you—you're a sensei. It's what you were meant to be. It's your calling. There could be other kids like August who truly need you in their corner. I'm so proud of you, John." Her hand slid to his arm, squeezing gently. "You need to save the tournament."

His throat bobbed as he stared at her, something raw flashing in his eyes. "I have no idea how I'm even gonna do it."

"By doing what you do best." A slow smile curved her lips, soft but fierce. "Fight. I'll be there with you."

And he believed her. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he believed he wasn't in this alone.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The next day, Stella and Johnny arrived at city hall downtown. Johnny opened the door for her like it was second nature, his hand lingering at the small of her back as they walked in. They found seats, and as an older man droned on about city maintenance covers, Stella caught Johnny's profile—jaw tight, eyes sharp. He looked like a soldier going into battle. She slipped her fingers into his under the table without a word, grounding him, and he gave her hand a squeeze, the tension in his shoulders melting just a little.

As the council heard the man's appeal, Stella turned to see Daniel walking in with his family.

"What are you doing here?" Daniel asked.

"Fighting for the All Valley." Johnny stated, his voice full of grit. Then he smirked, eyes flicking to Stella for just a beat, as if to say for them, for us. "What about you? You gonna read from your diary?"

Stella rolled her eyes and whispered under her breath, "Johnny." She tried to scold him with a look, but her heart was too full. He was impossible and perfect all at once.

"There's nothing wrong with being prepared." Daniel defended.

"Yeah, and I don't need notes, I'll shoot from the hip." Johnny said, puffing his chest like the rebel he was.

Stella hid a smile behind her hand, the warmth in her chest spreading. He didn't realize it, but she loved that about him—how he always fought with his heart first.

"This is going to be a disaster," Daniel muttered as the councilwoman banged her gavel to call the room to order.

"Okay, next we will hear appeals regarding the cancellation of the All-Valley Under-18 Karate Tournament. Who would like to speak first?" she asked.

Stella gave Johnny's hand one last reassuring squeeze before he stood. She whispered, just for him, "Go get 'em, Sensei." He glanced back at her, his eyes softening like no one else in the room existed, and nodded before heading down the steps.

Both men moved toward the podium—until someone else beat them to it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm retired Army Captain John Kreese," the man said smoothly, stepping to the mic. Johnny and Daniel froze in place, exchanging stunned looks

"Thank you for your service," the councilwoman said politely.

"It was an honor to serve, and I continue to serve right here in our community, by teaching our children strength and discipline through karate," Kreese said, his tone oozing false sincerity. "I was devastated to hear about the cancellation of the tournament because of the fight at the high school. Why are my students being penalized because of the violence perpetrated by... dojos like Miyagi-Do?"

"You've gotta be fucking shitting me," Stella muttered under her breath.

"Now, wait just one minute," Daniel snapped, standing halfway out of his seat.

"Ms. Walker, please keep your comments to yourself. And Mr. LaRusso, please, it's not your turn to speak," Councilwoman Roberts interrupted, her eyes flashing.

"I apologize, Councilwoman Roberts. But this man—" Daniel began.

"Councilperson Roberts," Kreese corrected smugly.

"Thank you, Captain Kreese. Please continue," the councilwoman nodded.

"I think my colleagues here would agree that all we want is the best for our students and our community," Kreese went on. "Cobra Kai's goal is to prepare the Valley's youth for the unfortunate realities of the real world. It's hard out there. I'm simply preparing them to defend themselves."

"Councilperson Roberts, I'm sorry, but this guy is selling you a bad bill of goods," Daniel said, rising again. "Just a few weeks ago, my students were injured by a bunch of his Cobra Kais in an abandoned recreation facility."

"And who started that fight? If memory serves—your out-of-control daughter," Kreese retorted.

"Hey! You leave my daughter out of this, you piece of shit!" Amanda shouted, standing to her feet.

"Mom," Sam whispered, mortified.

"Ma'am, please restrain yourself," Councilwoman Roberts warned sternly.

Johnny and Stella exchanged a laugh.

"It's funny you say that, because... I've had to file a restraining order against her for physically assaulting me," Kreese added, sounding completely unbothered.

"Assault? Are you kidding me?" Amanda snapped.

"Maybe I should make the call to the authorities?" Kreese said coolly.

"That won't be necessary," the councilwoman said as a security guard approached.

"Ma'am," the guard said.

"Hey! Do not—do not touch me! Okay, I'm leaving! I'm leaving! But that man is a lunatic!" Amanda called as she stormed off.

"Councilperson Roberts, I assure you that I am a positive influence to my students and the hundreds of others before them," Kreese concluded.

"Bullshit!" Johnny barked, rising beside her and heading to the podium. "Your honor, John Lawrence, Eagle Fang Karate. This man has poisoned the minds of his students. I should know—I was one of them."

Stella's heart swelled. That was Johnny—raw, unapologetic, fiercely loyal. And she loved him for it. Loved him so much it almost hurt.

"Were we competitive? Sure. But it was all for good sport," Kreese said, turning toward Johnny.

"This man is a thief and a liar!" Johnny snapped.

"And he put a live cobra in my dealership!" Daniel added.

The gavel banged. "Sit down. All of you," the councilwoman ordered.

The three men awkwardly took seats side by side. She sighed. "It is clear that this karate tournament is causing division and rivalry in our community. You gentlemen... have made an excellent case today as to why this tournament should not continue."

"Wait!" August called out.

All eyes turned as August descended the steps toward the podium. "My name is August Walker. I was in the school fight. I was the one who got kicked off the second floor. I, uh... I thought I was going to be paralyzed. I relearned how to stand. I relearned how to walk. And I want the tournament to continue."

"We're very happy for your recovery, young man, but I'm afraid you don't understand—" the councilwoman began.

Stella's heart tightened. She could feel Johnny's presence behind her like armor, steady and unwavering. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the steps and stepped up to the podium, letting her gaze sweep the room before landing, ever so briefly, on him. His eyes found hers immediately, a silent I've got you that made her chest swell.

"No. All due respect ma'am. I'm afraid you're the ones who don't understand. My name is Stella Walker, I'm a nurse at West Valley General. My colleagues oversaw his care. These kids are the ones getting hurt." She gestured for Sam to join her, feeling the comfort of Johnny's hand brushing against hers for a brief, grounding touch as she moved.

"We want a place where we can compete, fairly, and safely." Sam said as she joined Stella and August at the podium.

"When I first moved here, I was bullied." August said, holding Sam's hand tightly. "I realize there's no escaping it. There'll always be a kid who wants to steal your lunch money, or give you a wedgie, or give you a swirlie—"

"A swirlie?" the councilwoman questioned.

"It's, uh, when you dunk someone's head in a toilet and flush it. Pretty funny, actually." Johnny piped up from his seat, standing just behind Stella like a protective shadow.

"Sensei." August said, a small smile breaking through his nervousness.

"Instead of burying your heads in the sand, pretending that bullying doesn't exist, or that you could just get rid of it, what you need to do is teach kids how to defend themselves." August said, courage in his voice.

"Physically and mentally. Because sometimes the scars you can't see are the ones that hurt the most." Sam added.

"Karate is about discipline. It's about inner strength. It's about confidence. Lessons that you can use for the rest of your life. I don't know where I would be today, or who I would be today if it wasn't for my sensei." August stated, pointing directly to Johnny.

Stella's gaze flicked to Johnny, and for just a moment, the chaos of the council hall melted away. She could see the pride in his eyes, the weight of years of struggle finally meeting validation, and she felt her own chest tighten with love and admiration for him.

"These kids don't need the tournament to do cool tricks or to sell tickets. They need to show the bullies of the world that they're not afraid." Stella said, her voice steady, carrying more than just the words—she spoke with every ounce of conviction she felt for the kids, and for Johnny, who had taught her what courage looked like in action.

"It's called the All Valley because it's for everyone, to give everyone the chance to show what they can do, to fight to become a champion. And we deserve that chance." August said.

The room fell quiet, committee members exchanging glances. The Councilwoman looked at her colleagues, saw them nodding, then returned her attention to the podium.

"To be honest, I don't get the Valley's fascination with karate. But, if it means that much to all of you, and you're willing to sign waivers stating that the city is not liable, then the All-Valley Under-18 Tournament is officially back on." The Councilwoman declared, banging her gavel.

Stella smiled, turning to embrace her brother and Sam, her heart still racing. And then she turned to Johnny.

He didn't wait. He stepped forward, wrapping her in a strong, grounding embrace that made everything else in the room disappear. Stella rested her head against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. Applause erupted around them, but all she could hear was the quiet rush of love and relief between them.

"I guess we all got what we wanted." Kreese said, his voice cutting through the moment, as he turned to Daniel and Johnny. "But be careful what you wish for."

Johnny's arms tightened around Stella just a little, his jaw set—but his eyes found hers, soft and full of something he didn't need words for: we did it, together. And she smiled back, knowing he always had her, just as she always had him.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Stella knocked softly on the door of Johnny's apartment. A few moments later, the door swung open, and there he was—messy blond hair, rugged smile, and that familiar look in his eyes that always made her heart race.

"Hey," Johnny said, his voice low but warm.

"Hi." Stella smiled back, her enthereal beauty glowing in the dim light. "I was over at Dad's for dinner, and I had to stop by before I headed back. I hope it's not too late."

"No," Johnny said quickly, stepping aside. "It's all right. Get in here." His grin softened just for her—something nobody else ever saw.

Stella walked in, and he shut the door behind her. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, trying to sound casual but already hooked on every second of her being there.

"No, thank you." She gave him that sweet smile that killed him every damn time, then wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace was warm, grounding—something Johnny never thought he deserved but couldn't live without now.

"Johnny," she murmured against his chest, "I've always believed in you. I'm so proud of you. I know how important these tournaments are for you and the kids."

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands firm on her waist like he was afraid she'd vanish if he let go. "It was all them," he said gruffly. "I didn't tell August he could compete yet. I didn't even know he'd be there. I had nothing to do with that."

Stella's smile lit up the room. Fire danced in her eyes—brighter than he'd ever seen it—and for a second Johnny swore his heart stopped. "Yeah, you did," she teased softly. "You taught those kids to fight for what they want, for what they believe in. And that's exactly what August did."

Johnny swallowed hard, his tough exterior cracking wide open. "Stella... thank you. For being there for me. You always have." His voice was quiet now—raw in a way that only happened with her. "Even when I screwed up... even when I hurt you... you were still there."

"You remember what I told you, the day we officially met" she whispered, brushing her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"A person isn't so bad they can't be redeemed," Johnny said, his thumb tracing circles on her waist.

Their eyes locked, and for a long, charged moment, neither moved. Then Stella leaned in slowly, and Johnny didn't hesitate—meeting her halfway, crushing his mouth against hers like he'd been starving for her. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer until her legs wrapped around him without thinking.

As her fingers tangled in his hair, Johnny kissed her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered—because she was. He trailed his lips along her jaw, down to her neck, where he lingered just to hear her breath hitch.

"Johnny..." she whispered against his skin, and that was it. With her lips brushing his neck, he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

When he laid her on the bed, time slowed. They stared at each other—breathless, wild, something tender burning beneath the urgency. Johnny sat up slightly, his palms grazing over the thin straps of her sundress. He eased them down with almost reverent care, letting the fabric slide away inch by inch until it pooled around her hips.

"Are you sure?" he asked, caressing her cheek with the roughness of his knuckles, eyes searching hers.

She took his hands, kissing his fingers one by one before resting her forehead against his. "Put your hands on me, Johnny." Her voice was soft, steady.

The look in his eyes hardened with resolve, then softened with love as he touched her—slow, worshipful, his hands mapping every inch of her like she was something holy. Stella moaned softly, arching into his touch, her nails grazing his shoulders.

When he finally lowered himself over her, it wasn't fast or rough. Johnny laced his fingers through hers, pressing their joined hands into the mattress as his lips brushed her mouth, her jaw, her neck—each kiss tender, lingering, full of words he didn't know how to say. Her legs slid around his waist, pulling him closer, and his breath caught against her skin like the weight of it all nearly broke him.

For a heartbeat, he stilled—just looking at her. His forehead pressed to hers, his breath shaky. "You okay?" he murmured, voice almost breaking.

Stella smiled up at him through heavy lashes, her fingers tightening around his. "More than okay," she whispered.

Johnny let out a breath that sounded like a prayer. Then, with trembling hands, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a small foil packet. She watched him, her heart racing as he tore it open and slid the condom on with careful precision, his gaze never leaving hers. There was nothing rushed in his movements—only care, only the need to do this right.

When he returned to her, his lips found hers again in a kiss that was slow and deep, and then, finally, Johnny moved—entering her with a tenderness that stole her breath. Every inch was deliberate, reverent, like he was memorizing her from the inside out.

Her soft gasp filled the room, and he stilled for a moment, his forehead pressing to hers again, their breaths mingling. "Tell me if I hurt you," he whispered, voice cracking with raw emotion.

"You couldn't," she breathed, clutching his hands tighter.

And then he began to move—slow, careful, like she was breakable and he'd do anything not to hurt her. Every shift of his body spoke what his mouth couldn't: I've got you. I'm not letting go. I love you. Her soft moans against his ear undid him completely, each one dragging him closer to the edge, not just of control but of something bigger—something he'd never let himself feel.

"Johnny..." Her voice cracked on his name, and that sound wrecked him. He kissed her like he needed her to breathe, his grip on her hand fierce but tender, anchoring himself to her like she was the only real thing in the world.

When her breath hitched and her body trembled beneath his, Johnny groaned low against her neck, holding her tighter, like he was afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip. He buried his face in her hair, riding that wave with her, his chest pressed to hers, every beat of his heart thundering against her skin.

After, he didn't move—not right away. Their bodies stayed tangled, breaths uneven, until the only sound was their hearts trying to catch up.

Johnny kissed her one last time—slow, deep, pouring everything he couldn't say into it—before rolling to his side and pulling her into his arms. Stella nestled against him instantly, her cheek resting over his heart, her hand gripping his tightly where their fingers remained locked together.

"You're shaking," she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

Johnny let out a low breath, almost a laugh, almost a sob. "Yeah. Guess I'm not used to... all this."

Stella tilted her head up, brushing his jaw with her lips. "You don't have to be tough with me."

His throat tightened. He pressed his face against her hair, inhaling the faint trace of her shampoo, his arms tightening around her. She felt him kiss the top of her head, his lips lingering there. "Don't let go," he whispered, though maybe it was more to himself than to her.

Stella didn't answer. She just held his hand tighter.

Eventually, exhaustion tugged her into sleep, her breathing slow and steady. Johnny stayed awake for a while, watching her. With a low breath, he tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

And then—it happened.

As Stella shifted in her sleep, she felt the softest brush of lips against her cheek. She stirred, blinking drowsily, her head still resting against Johnny's chest. But Johnny hadn't moved. His arms were wound tightly around her, his face buried in her hair, holding her as if she might slip away.

Her breath caught, but instead of fear, warmth bloomed in her chest. She knew. The kiss had been Ava's—her mother's spirit, gentle and approving, wrapping her in a love that had never left.

Tears pricked at Stella's eyes, but they were peaceful tears. She whispered so quietly it was barely sound, "Hi, Mom."

Johnny stirred at her voice, tightening his hold around her even in sleep, unaware of the blessing that had just touched them both.