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Y/N L/N LAY SPRAWLED ON KWON'S CHEST, their bodies tucked into the soft sand as the waves lapped quietly in the background. The night had passed in a blur of hushed laughter, whispered conversations, and a surprising amount of cuddling—though neither of them would dare call it that out loud.

"You know," Kwon murmured, his voice hoarse from the all-night chatter, "I don't think I've ever talked this much in my entire life."

Y/n grinned, her cheek pressed against his chest. "What can I say? I bring out the yapper in you."

"Yapper?" he scoffed, shifting slightly so he could look down at her. "I'll have you know, I'm very selective with my words."

"Sure," she teased, tilting her head up to smirk at him. "Selective enough to spend the whole night rambling about how you think pineapple pizza is an international war-crime."

"It is," he said indignantly. "And don't even bother expressing yourself, because everybody knows there's only one right answer."

The y/h/c-haired girl laughed, the sound soft and melodic against the quiet dawn. "Whatever. But still. I think this is the longest we've gone without fighting."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't jinx it."

The first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. y/n sighed, her breath warm against his chest. "We should probably get up before someone finds us here."

Kwon groaned, his arm tightening around her waist for a moment. "Five more minutes."

"We've been saying that for an hour," she pointed out, propping herself up on her elbow.

"And it's been a good hour," he quipped, though he reluctantly let her go as she sat up.

The moment she moved, a cascade of sand tumbled from her hair onto his chest.

"Oh, come on!" Kwon exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and brushing at the grains with a scowl. "I just got rid of all the sand from earlier!"

"Not my fault," the girl said innocently, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to shake out the remaining sand.

"Not your fault?" he repeated, glaring at her. "You're like a walking sandstorm."

"And you're a whiner," she shot back, grinning as she stood and brushed off her legs.

Kwon followed suit, shaking out his shirt with a dramatic flourish. "Ugh, it's everywhere. My shirt's sticking to me. My skin feels like sandpaper. This is a disaster."

"You're so dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes as she continued to comb through her hair.

He glared at her, crossing his arms. "Oh yeah? Let's see how dramatic you are when you find sand in your bed two weeks from now."

"Fair point," she muttered, grimacing as she tugged at a particularly stubborn tangle.

"See? I'm always right," he said smugly, only for his expression to shift into one of mock horror. "Wait... oh no."

"What now?" she asked, half-laughing.

He pointed at his chest with exaggerated despair. "I think the sand is in my pores. I'm turning into a human exfoliation sponge."

Y/n burst out laughing, doubling over as she clutched her stomach. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous!"

"You're ridiculous," he retorted, grabbing a handful of sand and tossing it lightly at her legs.

"Did you just throw sand at me?" she asked, her laughter fading into mock outrage.

"Maybe," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, it's on," she declared, grabbing a handful of sand and flinging it at him with impressive accuracy.

The sand war escalated quickly, both of them laughing and yelling as they hurled handfuls at each other. Kwon tried to dodge, but y/n was surprisingly agile, darting around him and landing hit after hit.

"You fight dirty!" he exclaimed, shielding his face as she launched another handful at his chest.

"Literally!" she shot back, giggling as she scooped up more.

Finally, Kwon managed to grab her wrist, pulling her close. She yelped, still laughing as she tried to wriggle free.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice breathless but playful.

"Only if you admit I won," she said, smirking up at him.

"Not a chance," he replied, his grin mischievous.

In a swift move, he let go of her wrist and shook out his shirt again, sending a fresh shower of sand onto her clothes.

"Ugh! Kwon!" she shrieked, brushing at her body furiously.

"Guess that makes us even," he said, smirking as he stepped back.

"I hate you," she muttered, though her smile betrayed her words.

"Not anymore you don't," he said, his tone teasing.

As they finally calmed down and brushed themselves off, Kwon glanced at her, his expression softening. "Hey, after we win this whole thing—and we are going to win—we'll still have a week here before the prize ceremony, right?"

"Yeah," she said, looking at him curiously.

"So," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "you wanna... you know, explore the city with me? Go on that date I promised you forever ago?"

Y/n smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah. That would be nice."

"Nice?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "It would be great. Better?"

"Eh, not good enough, but I'll take it..." he said, grinning.

As they started walking, Kwon tugged at his shirt again, muttering under his breath.

"Still complaining?" y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I feel like a sand sculpture," he grumbled. "I'm clinging to sand like it's my life purpose."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Next time, we're picking a less messy spot."

"Roger that," he said, giving her a mock salute.

They both laughed they both trudged off the beach, still dusting off the stubborn grains of sand clinging to their clothes and hair, they rounded a bend and froze in their tracks.

There, just a few feet away, were none other than Kim Da-eun and... Chozen Toguchi?

Both of them were hastily pulling on their clothes, clearly flustered, their backs turned to the two teens. Kim adjusted her jacket with sharp, efficient movements, while Chozen struggled to button his shirt with an air of practiced calm.

For a moment, the world stood still. y/n and Kwon stared, their jaws dropping in unison.

"Oh my god," Kwon finally muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the sheer disbelief carried it. "Is that Sensei... and flower man?"

Y/n clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh, her eyes wide with horror and amusement. "Oh my god, ew," she whispered back, nudging him with her elbow. "Did we just—did we just... on the same beach as them?"

"I need bleach for my brain," Kwon muttered, rubbing his temples.

"I need bleach for my soul," y/n whispered dramatically, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

"Run," Kwon said suddenly, tugging on her arm.

But before they could dart away, a sharp, familiar voice called out.

"JAE-SUNG, Y/N!"

They froze, their plans of escape foiled. Slowly, like guilty children caught stealing from a cookie jar, they turned to face Kim Da-eun, who was now staring at them with narrowed eyes. Chozen stood behind her, looking awkward but not nearly as perturbed as she was.

"What," Kim began, her tone icy, "are you two doing here?"

Kwon, ever the defiant one, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I think the better question is, what are you doing here... with him?" He pointed accusingly at Chozen, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Kim's glare turned lethal. "That's none of your business."

"Funny," Kwon said with a smirk. "Because last time I checked, Mr. Miyagi over here is from the enemy dojang."

Chozen finally spoke, his tone calm but firm. "Miyagi-san is no more. I am Chozen Toguchi."

"Oh," Kwon said, clearly unimpressed. "Right. Flower man."

Y/n let out a soft snort, quickly turning her face away to hide her grin. She leaned closer to Kwon, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "Flower man's got moves. Who knew?"

Kwon bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh, but a snicker escaped anyway.

Kim's sharp eyes flicked to them. "Something funny?" she snapped, her voice cold enough to freeze lava.

They both immediately straightened, their expressions a mix of guilt and forced seriousness. "Nope," Kwon said quickly. "Nothing at all."

Kim didn't buy it for a second, but her focus shifted as her gaze landed on y/n's face. Her sharp demeanor faltered, her eyes softening in an instant.

"What happened to your face?" Kim demanded, stepping closer. Her voice, while still stern, carried an undercurrent of concern.

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "It's nothing," she mumbled, looking away.

"Nothing?" Kim repeated, her tone incredulous. She reached out to tilt y/n's chin, her expression darkening as she took in the swollen, bruised skin, the dried blood, and the deep red-purple marks marring her cheek. "This is not nothing. It's a nasty wound. Who did this to you?"

Her gaze flicked to Kwon, suspicion written all over her face.

Kwon's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms defensively. "You think I did this?" he snarled, his tone dripping with disbelief.

Kim didn't answer, but the roll of her eyes spoke volumes.

Of course she didn't think he did it. She'd practically raised the boy since he was young. What she was looking for was answers.

Kwon took a step closer, his body tense. "Maybe you should ask your friend over there," he said, nodding toward Chozen. His tone was venomous, his words practically a growl.

As Kwon's accusatory words hung in the air, Chozen remained calm, though his eyes narrowed slightly. His voice was measured, almost unnervingly so. "What do you mean by that?"

Both y/n and Kim turned to Kwon, their expressions a mix of confusion and curiosity. Kim, however, quickly shifted her focus back to the girl's injuries. She examined the swollen bruises with a critical eye, her lips pressed tightly together, muttering something in Korean under her breath.

But Kwon wasn't about to let the tension dissolve so easily. He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "I mean exactly what I said," he snapped, his tone sharper than necessary. "That ambush last night? You expect me to believe it's a coincidence that Miyagi-do guys show up swinging crowbars?"

Chozen's brow furrowed, his calm exterior cracking just slightly. "Explain," he said firmly, though his tone was not unkind.

Y/n, who had been biting her lip nervously, finally spoke up. "What are you doing?" she hissed, her voice soft but confused.

Kim paused her inspection of y/n's face, her sharp eyes snapping to Kwon. "Ambushed?" she repeated, her voice low but dangerous. "By who?"

Kwon scoffed, ignoring y/n's perplexion for the moment. "I don't know who they were exactly, but one of them had long hair—down to his shoulders. Wore a leather jacket. Real smug look. And," he added, his eyes narrowing further, "he had a tattoo on his arm. Couldn't make out the details, but it looked like some kind of... giant worm or something."

At that, Kim and Chozen exchanged a glance. It was quick, subtle—but not subtle enough for either Kwon or y/n to miss.

"Long-haired," Chozen murmured, as if processing the description. "And a tattoo, you say?"

"Yes," Kwon snapped impatiently. "What, do you know him or something?"

Y/n, sensing something was off, stepped in. "Okay, hold on," she said, her tone careful. "Let's back up. We were ambushed last night in the alley behind that diner. There were three guys—two were unarmed, and one with, I don't know, an attitude problem and a crowbar." She gestured vaguely as she spoke. "They didn't say who sent them, but they came at us like they had a score to settle."

Kim's expression darkened considerably as she listened. Her posture stiffened, and she exchanged another glance with Chozen, this one more pointed.

Chozen, however, remained unreadable. "And you fought them off?" he asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like an observation.

"Of course we did," Kwon said with a scoff. "What else were we supposed to do, let them kill us?"

Y/n glanced at him, then nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. But it wasn't... easy," she admitted. "I mean, we didn't exactly walk away unscathed." She gestured vaguely at her battered face, her tone laced with dry humor. "Obviously."

Kim ignored the remark, her attention fully on Kwon now. "The tattoo," she said abruptly. "Describe it again."

Kwon shrugged. "I already told you. It looked like a giant worm or something. Maybe a snake? I don't know, I didn't stop to admire the art."

Kim's expression shifted almost imperceptibly—enough for y/n to notice. "What? What is it?" the girl pressed.

But Kim didn't answer. Instead, she turned to Chozen, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "We need to handle this," she said.

Chozen nodded solemnly. "It could be... dog cage men."

"What are you two whispering about?" Kwon demanded, his frustration evident.

Da-eun shot him a warning look but didn't respond to his question. Instead, she straightened her posture and addressed both Kwon and y/n in a tone that brooked no argument. "Students... go back to the hotel," she said firmly.

"What?" y/n asked, taken aback. "Why?"

"Now," Kim snapped, her voice sharp. "And you are not to speak of this to anyone. Do you understand?"

He glared at the older woman, jaw clenching, but he didn't argue further.

Kim, satisfied that they weren't going to push back, turned her attention back to Chozen. "You, come with me. We have business to discuss." She said sauntering away.

Chozen nodded again, his expression grim.

Y/n and Kwon exchanged a glance, both of them clearly unsettled. As they began walking away, Kwon muttered under his breath, "I don't trust them."

"Yeah, no kidding," the girl replied, glancing back over her shoulder. "But something tells me we're not getting any answers tonight."

"Or ever," Kwon said darkly.

And as they made their way back to the hotel, the weight of unanswered questions lingered heavily in the air between them.

"Is it just me, or did Sensei look just like a supermodel with her hair down..?"

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