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THE WEEKEND DRAGGED ON AT A PACE SO AGONIZINGLY SLOW that y/n swore time itself was punishing them. Saturday kicked off with what could only be described as a hellish lecture marathon, courtesy of Sensei Kim Da-eun.

"You two seem to think life is a comedy," The woman had started, her arms crossed, pacing like a general addressing her troops. "But let me remind you: curiosity killed the cat. Responsibility is not a suggestion; it is a requirement."

Y/n and Kwon sat on the couch in front of her, both looking like scolded children. The girl picked at a loose thread on her hoodie, trying to zone out, while Kwon sat stiffly, his face betraying just how much he hated being talked down to.

"Care to explain your little escapade?" Kim's voice was sharp, her gaze piercing.

"We were just—" y/n started, but Kwon interrupted. "—gathering intel."

Kim's eyebrow twitched, and for a moment, y/n genuinely feared she might strike him.

"Intel?" Kim echoed, her voice dripping with disdain. "And did this... 'intel-gathering mission' come with a plan? Or were you two simply relying on blind luck and divine intervention?"

Y/n opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no winning this.

Kim continued, her tone shifting to something almost philosophical, which was somehow worse. "Responsibility means making decisions that reflect strength and intelligence. Not..." she waved a hand dismissively at the two of them, "...whatever that was."

Y/n sighed, defeated, while Kwon stared stoically ahead, his jaw clenched. This was going to be a long day.

The evening, however, proved to be even worse.

Kim had assigned Kwon to babysit Kreese. It was a punishment so uniquely horrible that even y/n couldn't help but feel a shred of sympathy for him.

The boy had barely stepped into the room when Kreese pounced, already mid-rant. "You know what the problem is with loyalty these days, son?" Kreese growled, pacing the room like a caged tiger.

Kwon blinked, unsure how to respond. "Uh... no?"

"No one has it!" Kreese snapped, his voice rising. "Back in Nam, you learned to trust the guy next to you with your life. And what do I get in return? Betrayed. By that slimy, ponytailed prick!"

Kwon raised a hand awkwardly. "Sensei, I think--"

"Think?" Kreese barked. "Thinking doesn't win wars! Action does! And you know what I should've done? Left that traitorous snake in the jungle where he belonged!"

Kwon's mouth opened, then closed. What was he supposed to say to that?

"And don't even get me started on the rest of them," Kreese continued, gesturing wildly. "Backstabbers. All of them. Slimy little slugs. Slithering around, plotting behind my back. I built Cobra Kai! I am Cobra Kai..."

Kwon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Sensei, maybe you should--"

"What? Relax?!" Kreese snapped, his eyes bulging. "Relaxation is for the weak! Do you think I had time to relax while Charlie was crawling through the jungle with a knife between his teeth? No!"

Kwon leaned back, muttering under his breath, "This guy needs a vacation..."

"What was that?" Kreese barked.

"Nothing, Sensei!" Kwon said quickly, sitting up straight.

The "therapy session" lasted hours, with Kwon enduring Kreese's endless tirade about betrayal, disloyalty, and how the world had wronged him. By the time it was over, Kwon felt like he needed a therapist.

Meanwhile, y/n's punishment was no picnic either.

Sensei had decided that the girl needed to learn the art of self-discipline and reflection, which apparently involved hours of silent meditation... in Kim's room.

The space was immaculate, not a single thing out of place. y/n sat cross-legged on a mat, trying not to fidget, while Kim pressed play on a documentary about the rise of the Kim family in North Korea.

"History is the foundation of strength," Kim said, sitting down across from her.

Y/n nodded politely, though internally, she was sobbing violently.

The documentary droned on in monotone narration, describing military strategies, political maneuvers, and betrayals within the regime. y/n tried to focus, but the combination of the narrator's voice and the dull visuals made her eyelids droop.

Kim's sharp voice jolted her awake. "Eyes open. This is important."

"Right," the girl mumbled, straightening up.

By hour three, y/n was sure she'd lost feeling in her legs. The narrator was now describing some kind of military coup, and Kim's eyes were glued to the screen, as if watching the climax of a blockbuster movie.

"This," Kim said, gesturing to the screen, "is what happens when you lose focus. Chaos. Disorder."

Y/n resisted the urge to point out that she was not planning a military coup anytime soon. Instead, she nodded solemnly. "Got it. No coups."

The day ended with the y/h/c-haired girl stumbling out of Kim's room, her brain fried and her legs numb. She found Kwon slumped on the couch, looking equally traumatized.

"Rough day?" y/n asked, collapsing next to him.

Kwon let out a hollow laugh. "You have no idea."

"Wanna bet?" she shot back, and for a moment, they just sat there in shared misery.

"Next time," Kwon muttered, "remind me not to underestimate our senseis."

"Deal," y/n replied, closing her eyes.

***

The next day dawned bleak and exhausting, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke. With Tory and Kwon whisked away for interviews and meetings with sponsors, y/n, Yoon, Park, and Lee were left behind to face Sensei Kim's unrelenting grip.

Kim's paranoia was at an all-time high. "Enemies lurk in the shadows," she declared ominously, pacing the hotel room while the four of them sat on the floor in various states of discomfort.

"Sensei," Lee said hesitantly, "we're literally in a five-star hotel. The only thing lurking is overpriced room service."

Kim shot him a glare so sharp it could cut steel. "Complacency is the first step to defeat," she snapped. "Never forget that."

Y/n leaned over to whisper to Park. "She's talking like we're in Mission Impossible."

Park snorted but quickly covered his mouth when Kim's piercing gaze landed on him. "Do you have something to share with the class, Sun-woo?"

"N-no, Sensei!" he stammered, sitting up straighter.

After hours of grueling drills and cryptic lectures about vigilance and betrayal ("The walls have ears, but the floor? The floor remembers," Kim had said, leaving everyone utterly confused), the woman decided they needed a "break." And what better way to spend the day without some educational indoor games?

...

"Board games?" y/n asked skeptically as Kim set up a chessboard with military precision.

Kim nodded, her expression dead serious. "Games are an excellent way to sharpen the mind. But," she added with a sinister glint in her eye, "we'll be playing by my rules."

That was their first mistake—agreeing to play.

...

The first game started innocently enough. Yoon, ever the strategist, quickly took control of the board, maneuvering his pieces with precision. y/n, on the other hand, was playing defensively, her focus more on keeping her pieces alive than actually winning.

Then it happened. Yoon sacrificed his queen to set up a checkmate with his rook and knight.

"Checkmate," The boy said with a small, triumphant smile.

Kim's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You sacrificed your queen?"

Yoon blinked. "Well, yes, but it was a tactical--"

"Foolish lad!" Kim interrupted, her tone sharp. "The queen is the powerhouse of the game. She commands the board, dictates the flow. Lose her, and you've already lost."

"But the king--" Yoon started, only for Kim to scoff loudly.

"The king?" she repeated, practically spitting the word. "That useless oaf can barely move without backtracking. What's the point of a leader who can't lead?"

Y/n and the rest exchanged wide-eyed glances, trying (and failing) to suppress their laughter.

"Noted, Sensei..." Yoon muttered, his shoulders sagging. "Next time, I'll make sure to protect the queen with my life."

"You better," Kim said firmly.

...

If chess was a battle of wits, UNO turned into a battle of physical endurance.

"Let's make this interesting," Kim announced as she dealt the cards.

"Define 'interesting,'" Lee said warily.

Kim smirked. "Every card played will have a corresponding physical challenge."

"Physical challenge?" y/n asked, confused.

"Number five?" Kim said, holding up a yellow card. "Five high kicks in a row. Red three? Three punches. Blue eight? Four punches and four kicks, combination attack. Wild card?" She paused for dramatic effect. "Knockdown by any means necessary."

The room erupted in protests.

"That's not how UNO works!" Park exclaimed.

"It is now," Kim said, her voice brooking no argument.

The game quickly devolved into chaos.

Y/n played a red three, forcing Park to throw three punches into the air while glaring at her. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled, his form sloppy.

"Poor technique," Kim commented from the sidelines. "Do it again."

Yoon played a green six, which meant y/n had to perform four kicks and two blocks. She nearly toppled over on the fourth one, and Lee caught her arm to steady her.

"This is torture," y/n muttered, shooting a glare at Yoon.

"It builds character," Yoon replied with a grin.

The real disaster came when the girl played a +4 card.

"Four push-ups," Kim declared.

Yoon groaned but dropped to the floor to complete them. "I'm going to die," he mumbled between breaths.

"You'll thank me later," Kim said, entirely unbothered.

...

If UNO was chaotic, Monopoly was outright war.

"Sensei, why are all the hotels on your properties?" Park asked, frowning at the board.

"Because I earned them," Kim said simply.

"That's not how Monopoly works," Yoon argued. "You can't just take our houses every time you land on them."

Kim's smile was razor-sharp. "Oh? Then let's spar for them."

Yoon stared at her, aghast. "You want me to fight you for fake property?"

"Ownership is earned, not given," Kim said, standing up and cracking her knuckles.

"Nope, I'm out," Park said, throwing up his hands. "Take all my properties. I'm not getting kicked in the face over Monopoly."

Y/n, however, couldn't resist. "Fine," she said, standing up. "Let's do this."

What followed was a hilariously uneven sparring match where Kim barely broke a sweat, while y/n ended up sprawled on the floor, gasping for air.

"That was fun," Kim deadpanned, sitting back down and sliding y/n's properties over to her side of the board.

"For you, maybe," the girl wheezed, clutching her side.

...

By the end of the day, all four of them were sprawled on the floor, thoroughly defeated—not by the games themselves, but by Kim's ruthless reinvention of them.

"Never again," Yoon muttered, his head resting against the couch.

"Agreed," y/n said weakly.

Kim, meanwhile, looked utterly invigorated. "Same time Tuesday after winning tomorrow's events?" she asked brightly.

"Please, no," Lee groaned, covering his face with a pillow.

Kim just smirked, already plotting her next round of revised board games.

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