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"AGAIN... HARDER!"

Y/n dropped into a low stance, the ache in her battered legs flaring up again. Her opponent, a seasoned assistant of Sensei Kim's, Yoon Do-Jin, thrust the bo staff toward her midsection. She twisted sharply to dodge, gritting her teeth as the movement sent a jolt of pain through her already swollen knee. She threw out her arm to block the follow-up strike, her knuckles already raw and bloody, and grabbed at the weapon, only for it to be ripped away with brutal force, the staff grazing her forearm.

"You're weak in the legs. Weakness has no place here."

Kim's voice rang out like a whip, cutting through the cold air. She stood off to the side, arms crossed, her sharp gaze following y/n's every movement. This wasn't the structured training of tournaments or even Cobra Kai's regular sessions. This was war.

"Think with your feet, not your arms," Kim snapped. "Your opponent will aim for what you value most. And your arms? They're the easiest to break."

Yoon lunged again, swinging the bo toward y/n's torso. She tried to sidestep but was half a beat too slow. The blow grazed her ribs, stealing her breath for a moment. She stumbled back but didn't fall. Instead, she spat blood onto the dirt floor, her eyes fierce, and dropped back into position.

"Is this too much for you to handle, little girl?" Da-eun's tone was mocking, but her expression was deadly serious. "You came to me, remember? You wanted to learn the real way."

Y/n didn't respond, panting heavily, her chest heaving as she forced herself upright. The assistant pressed forward again, this time feinting a low strike before swinging high. The girl ducked, barely avoiding the hit, and managed to deliver a quick kick to his shin, throwing him slightly off balance.

"Karate is not a sport. It's a way of life. And in life, you don't get second chances."

Sensei Kim's words from a past session echoed in her mind. y/n could barely feel her fingers anymore as she raised her arms to block another series of attacks. Yoon moved like a machine—unrelenting, methodical, precise. Every hit, every swing was designed to exploit her vulnerabilities, to break her down piece by piece.

She twisted, managing to grab the staff for a second time. This time, instead of yanking it away, she used her momentum to push it upward, catching her opponent off guard. She delivered a sharp elbow to his chest and sent him stumbling back.

Kim's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Victory is earned through blood, sweat, and willpower. If you're not willing to bleed, you're not ready to win."

The boy recovered quickly, charging again. This time, y/n was ready. She faked a sidestep, baiting him into swinging low. As the staff arced downward, she jumped, bringing her knee down on the weapon with all her weight. The wood cracked audibly, and the assistant staggered, momentarily stunned.

"Better," Kim murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

But there was no reprieve. The assistant discarded the damaged weapon and immediately came at her with a series of hand strikes. y/n raised her arms, blocking most of the blows but wincing as one slipped through and grazed her jaw. She retaliated with a low kick, aiming for his injured shin. He grunted, his balance faltering.

"Finish him!" Kim ordered, her voice cold and commanding.

"In my dojang, we don't breed fighters. We breed survivors. If you can't survive, you're not worthy of the name."

Y/n's breaths came hard and fast, but her eyes stayed locked on her opponent. She bluffed left, then spun into a high kick, her foot slamming into his temple with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground. She didn't stop. She dropped to his level, her fist driving into his stomach, forcing a choked gasp from him, earning her final point.

A sharp cry tore from the girl's throat, echoing through the empty woods surrounding the makeshift training ground. It was primal, fierce, and terrifying. Since it was still dawn, most of the students had not yet arrived for their weekend training. But those who had, watched in uneasy silence, flinching collectively at the sound.

Except for Kwon.

Leaning casually against a tree with his arms crossed, the captain of the students let out a derisive scoff, earning curious glances from those around him. "Really?" he muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. "You'd think she's training to head to a warzone in North Korea with all that drama."

A younger student next to him shuffled uncomfortably. "But... isn't she training with Yoon? And Sensei Kim?"

Kwon arched a brow, his expression sharp with disdain. "Yeah, lucky her," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not like anyone else around here has earned that spot. Oh wait—I'm the captain now."

Another student hesitated before speaking. "She's tough though, isn't she?"

Kwon rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Tough? Sure. But she's not invincible." His gaze flicked back to y/n, who was still panting heavily, blood dripping down her knuckles, sweat and grime marring her glisting y/s/c skin, bruises all over her body. "And just because Yoon's her personal babysitter doesn't mean she's special. It just means Yoon's still Kim's golden child. Always has been."

His jaw tightened at the mention of Do-jin, his predecessor and Sensei Kim's former favorite. Despite now holding the position of captain, Kwon couldn't shake the shadow Yoon cast over him—or the fact that Da-eun had chosen Yoon to mentor y/n instead of him. He wanted to train her. He wanted to prove himself.

Instead, he was left on the sidelines, watching.

Kwon's gaze lingered on y/n, his expression hardening. "We'll see how long she lasts," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and laced with something darker than sarcasm...

Kim's lips curled into a faint smirk. She approached y/n slowly, her boots crunching against the dirt. The assistant didn't move from where he stood respectfully, defeated.

"You've proven you're not entirely useless," Da-eun mused, stopping a few feet away. She tilted her head, studying y/n as if assessing a weapon's worth. Then, to everyone's shock, she inclined her head slightly in a bow—a rare gesture of respect she'd done the last time y/n defeated her champ when she joined the dojo 2 weeks ago.

Y/n, panting and battered, straightened as best as she could and returned the bow, her movements deliberate despite the pain.

Kim's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried an undeniable weight. "You may have made it through right now, but this is just the beginning. It took you two weeks to accomplish what my original students finish on day one... If you want to be a champion representing my dojang, you'll need to endure much worse."

Clenching her jaw to hold in the venom she wanted to spew out, y/n just bowed, dismissing herself and walking away, a storm brewing within, getting harder to contain with every breath she took. Her body ached from head to toe, and she could barely walk steadily. And the worst part about it was that it was only 5 in the morning.

"Strength is not measured by how many battles you win. It's measured by how many battles you survive."

As Da-eun turned, she caught Kreese's eye. He stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, his face unreadable. But there was a glimmer of approval in his eyes as they locked onto y/n.

"You've got potential," he said, his voice a low rumble as y/n walked past him. "Don't waste it."

The girl didn't reply, her gaze fixed forward. This was her path now, and she intended to walk it to the bitter end... And as she hobbled toward the edge of the training grounds, exhausted and aching, Kwon's sharp voice sliced through the silence.

"Wow. Limping off already? Guess the new champ isn't as invincible as she thought."

She spun around, startled, but relaxed when she saw him. He was leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed, his usual smirk firmly in place.

"What do you want, Kwon?" she asked, trying to sound more annoyed than tired.

He shrugged, pushing off the tree. "Oh, nothing. Just making sure you're not bleeding out somewhere and giving Sensei Kreese another excuse to lecture us all about resilience and war."

"I'm fine," she said, turning away, but he caught up easily, falling into step beside her.

"You're fine? Sure, because crawling around like a drunk baby deer is peak performance," he snarked. "Sit down, princess, before you face-plant into more dirt."

Before she could argue, he gestured toward a flat rock near the pond. "Come on. Unless you want Yoon carrying you back to class like a hero or something."

The mention of Do-jin made her pause. She shot him a look but sat down reluctantly. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said, kneeling in front of her and pulling out supplies from his bag. "But someone's gotta keep you alive long enough to finish embarrassing yourself in front of Kim."

"Charming," she muttered.

"That's me," he shot back, his grin almost infuriating.

He rolled up her gi pants without asking, exposing her battered legs. She winced at the sight but bit back a comment.

"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. "Did she hit you with a bo or a truck?"

"Funny," she said dryly.

He didn't respond, already dampening a cloth with fresh water from his own bottle. He started cleaning the wounds with brisk efficiency, his movements practiced.

"This'll sting," he warned, dabbing at her knees.

She sucked in a sharp breath but didn't pull away.

"Look at that," he said, mock-impressed. "You can take a hit without whining about it. Progress."

"Don't you have better things to do than play nurse?" she snapped.

"Not really," he said. "Unless you count watching Yoon try to outshine you in front of Kim. He's been sulking since you showed up, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yoon's been fine."

Kwon snorted. "Yeah, sure. He's thrilled Kim's giving the two of you all the attention. Bet he loved training you this morning while the others played cheerleader on the sidelines."

"Why do you care so much about Yoon?" she fired back.

"I don't," he said quickly. Too quickly.

She narrowed her eyes. "You sound jealous."

He froze for a split second before recovering, his smirk sharp and biting. "Of Yoon? Please. He can have Kim's favoritism as long as I have the leadership. I'm more interested in what everyone else thinks about you. Like, oh, I don't know, the group of guys who showed up early just to watch."

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," he said, tying a clean cloth around her leg. "They're not here to watch Yoon or Kim. You're the main attraction, princess. Gotta say, it's entertaining."

"Entertaining?" she repeated, glaring.

"Yeah," he said, sitting back on his heels. "Watching you try so hard to keep up. It's... cute."

She huffed, reaching for the water bottle he handed her earlier.

As she drank, he pulled out a small tin of herbal paste and began applying it to her shins. The sharp, earthy smell filled the air.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Halmoni's recipe," he said without looking up.

"Your grandmother?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"She sounds cool."

"She's fine," he said shortly, his tone brooking no further questions.

She didn't push, watching as he wrapped her legs with precise movements.

"You done?" she asked when he stood.

"Not even close," he said, grabbing her hands.

She flinched but let him clean the cuts on her knuckles. His grip was firm but gentle, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Your hands are a mess," he muttered, shaking his head. "Did you forget how to block, or were you just trying to impress Kim by punching everything?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not to me," he said, smirking. "But you're gonna feel it for the next couple of days."

When he was done with her hands, he moved on to her face, inspecting a small cut near her temple.

"You keep this up, and you'll be having two chunks of raw wagyu instead of hands," he laughed, proud of his stupid joke, dabbing at the cut with a clean cloth.

"Thanks for the encouragement," she said dryly.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice softer than before.

For a moment, their eyes met, and the teasing smirk on his face faltered. His hands lingered on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

But the sound of voices broke the moment, and they both pulled back as a group of students passed by on their way to the training ground.

Kwon straightened, shoving his supplies back into his bag.

"Don't push yourself too hard today," he said, his tone back to its usual snarky edge.

"Why? Afraid I'll embarrass you?"

"Hardly," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But if you pass out again, someone's gonna have to carry you, and I'm not volunteering."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at her lips.

"See you out there, princess," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

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