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THE SOUND OF CHANTING GREW LOUDER as y/n and Miguel walked down the aquarium's dimly lit corridor, the faint smell of saltwater lingering in the air. Rows of glass tanks displayed exotic marine life, but the fish barely caught their attention anymore, except that one octopus that still followed... Instead, all focus was on the noise reverberating through the space: "Vlad! Vlad! Vlad!"

Miguel squinted, his brows furrowed. "What the hell is going on now?" he muttered.

Y/n rolled her eyes, her footsteps picking up pace. "Ignore it. It's just Kwon being Kwon," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Our dear captain—so full of himself he probably thinks the ocean here is cheering for him too."

Miguel arched a brow at her sharpness. "You sound... annoyed."

Y/n shrugged, feigning indifference. "Let's just say Kwon's got more balls than brain cells."

Miguel chuckled faintly but didn't push further. Though he'd only known Kwon for a short time, he already didn't like him. Their earlier exchange at the reception—an unprovoked taunt about Miyagi-do—still lingered in his mind. Kwon's arrogance grated on him, and seeing how easily the y/h/c-haired girl bristled at the mention of his name? That only added fuel to the fire.

As they approached the central hall, the source of the commotion came into view: a massive dolphin wall, cracked and weathered, with chalk marks measuring the height of each impact from the "wall-kicking game." The crowd buzzed, their energy palpable.

In the center of it all stood Vlad, the towering captain of Udar Tigra, the Russian team. At 6'5" (195 cm), he looked every inch the powerhouse he was reputed to be—broad shoulders, arms like steel cables, and a cocky smirk that rivaled Kwon's.

The Russian took a deep breath, stepping back to prepare his strike. Whispers spread through the crowd, many confident he'd crush Kwon's record.

Miguel leaned in toward y/n. "What's this? Karate... or just ego flexing?"

"Both," she said dryly. "You know Cobra Kai."

With a guttural yell, Vlad launched forward. His kick aimed high, but his timing was off—he jumped too soon, and his foot struck six inches below Kwon's mark. The sound of the miss echoed through the room.

"Черт возьми!" Vlad spat in Russian, his voice tight with frustration.

The crowd's energy shifted. Boos erupted as spectators shook their heads.

In the corner, Kwon smirked, stepping forward in his usual casual yet cocky way. He began clapping slowly, the sound cutting through the noise. "Nice try," he drawled, loud enough for everyone to hear. "But not even close."

Vlad turned, his jaw tightening, but he forced a smile as he retreated to his team's corner. The Russian team's female captain wasted no time grilling him, her voice low and sharp.

Kwon pointed at the wall, his finger tracing the gap between the marks. "No one beats mine." He flashed a grin that was as infuriating as it was confident.

But his expression faltered when he saw y/n and Miguel standing together on the sidelines.

Envy hit him like a freight train, fast and merciless. His chest tightened, and a sharp pang ran through his gut as if he'd just taken a hard hit. His smirk faded, replaced by a hard line of disapproval.

His mind raced: Why the hell are they standing so close? What's so funny that she's smiling at him like that?

A strange bitterness clawed at him. He hated it—the vulnerability that came with jealousy. Kwon wasn't used to feeling anything but control, but now? His hands itched, his blood felt like it was boiling, and the urge to act—to do something—was overwhelming.

"Team USA," he suddenly called, his voice loud enough to hush the crowd.

Miguel looked up, confusion flickering across his face.

Kwon's eyes locked on him like a predator cornering prey. "Everybody knows America's the best at everything, right?" he said mockingly, drawing laughter from the audience.

Y/n's eyes narrowed, and she took a small step forward, but Miguel held out a hand, stopping her.

Kwon wasn't done. He gestured at Miguel dismissively, his grin sharp and cutting. "Though I've gotta say, your flirting game's a hell of a lot better than your fighting game. Isn't that right, l/n?"

More laughter erupted, this time louder.

Miguel's jaw clenched, but before he could say anything, another voice cut through the tension.

"Let's go, Miguel."

Eli pushed through the crowd, flanked by Devon and Demetri. His glare swept over the scene, landing on y/n before shifting to Miguel, then Kwon. The disdain in his eyes was unmistakable.

"We're leaving," Eli said firmly, grabbing Miguel by the arm. "Now."

Miguel hesitated, glancing at y/n, who stood rooted in place, her expression unreadable.

"Let's go," Eli said again, his tone colder. His voice dropped as he muttered to Miguel, "You shouldn't be hanging around Cobra Kai. No matter who it may be..."

Though he didn't say it outright, the implication was clear: y/n was the traitor.

Kwon laughed darkly, stepping closer to the group. "Oh, c'mon, you scared?" He clapped his hands mockingly. "Let's see if Team USA's got any guts."

Eli turned, his fists clenched, but Demetri held him back.

"Don't," Demetri warned quietly.

But Kwon wasn't letting up. He raised his arms, rallying the room. "USA! USA! USA!"

It started as a mocking chant, but soon, Cobra Kai students joined in, then others from rival studios, until the entire room roared with the chant.

The girl's stomach churned. She looked around, her gaze darting between Kwon and Miguel, who now stared at her with a mixture of frustration and disappointment.

The noise was deafening, the tension suffocating. Kwon's eyes met hers for a brief moment—a flicker of something raw and unspoken in his gaze before he turned back to the crowd, basking in their cheers.

"Fine," Hawk snapped, stepping forward, his fists clenched. "Let's do this."

The crowd erupted in cheers, feeding off the brewing animosity.

Before anyone could stop him, y/n stormed toward Kwon, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the side. The action drew a few confused looks, but the noise quickly drowned out any attention.

She shoved him into a quiet corner, her eyes blazing with fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.

Kwon raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. "What are you talking about?" His voice was cold, his jaw tight, but the faint twitch of his fingers betrayed his anger.

"Don't play dumb with me," y/n snapped, crossing her arms. "You're acting like an absolute douche. Picking fights just to... what? Show off? Prove you're better?"

His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth behind it. "Better at what? Kicking walls or making you laugh? Because apparently, I suck at the latter."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you serious right now? This isn't about me!"

Kwon let out a short, humorless laugh. "Isn't it?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "You're standing there, all cozy with him, while I'm supposed to just sit back and—"

"And what?" y/n cut him off, her voice sharp. "Throw a tantrum? You're being childish, Kwon."

Before he could respond, Yoon caught Kwon's eye from across the room. They exchanged a silent look, Kwon's jealousy and anger barely concealed. Yoon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, but he gave Kwon a curt nod before turning toward Eli.

Yoon's voice rang out, cutting through the noise. "Yah- are you really the best your dojo has to offer?" He looked Eli up and down, his tone dripping with mockery. 

Eli scowled, stepping closer. "I'm tough enough to kick your punk ass."

Kwon scoffed, cutting in before Yoon could respond. "Please," he drawled, his eyes never leaving Eli. "You are not even the captain."

Eli's smirk faltered, but before he could retort, Kwon's gaze shifted to the rest of the Miyagi-do group. "Where is he?" His voice carried across the room. 

As if on cue, Robby stepped forward from the crowd, his expression calm but resolute. "I'm right here," he said, his voice steady.

The crowd parted slightly, their excitement shifting as Robby approached. His teammates followed behind him—Eli, Demetri, and Miguel—each wearing varying expressions of unease and determination.

Robby's eyes narrowed at Kwon's scoff, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he turned to his teammates. "Come on guys, let's go," he said firmly.

Miyagi-do exchanged glances, hesitant but trusting Robby's lead.

Y/n, who had been silently fuming beside Kwon, finally exploded. "This is ridiculous!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Do you even hear yourself? You're acting like this is some middle school grudge match instead of a training event."

Kwon glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but the fire in his eyes hadn't dimmed. "Stay out of it," he said coldly. "This has nothing to do with you."

Her jaw dropped. "Nothing to do with me? Are you kidding? You're dragging everyone into this stupid ego contest, and—"

"Enough," he snapped, his voice low but firm. His gaze flicked back to the retreating dojo. As Robby and the Miyagi-Do team turned to leave, Kwon's voice rang out, sharp and mocking. "You always walk away from a challenge? Or is it because your girlfriends are on our team?"

The taunt was like a grenade tossed into the room. Silence fell immediately as every eye turned toward Kwon.

Y/n's breath hitched. She froze for a split second, then exhaled through gritted teeth. Her hands clenched at her sides as she muttered under her breath, "Unbelievable," rolling her eyes in disbelief. It hit her all at once—his smug attitude, the unnecessary taunts, the constant needling. It wasn't about proving something to Robby or Miguel or even Hawk for that matter.

Kwon's jealous.

Hawk, oblivious to the deeper tension, smirked and handed Robby the chalk. "Go on, man," he said, nudging him forward. "Show him what's up."

Robby glanced at Hawk, then at the chalk in his hand, before striding toward Kwon with a calm, collected demeanor. His brow raised slightly as he stopped in front of the target on the wall, his tone as unimpressed as his expression.

"What, I just have to kick above that line?" Robby asked, pointing lazily at the highest chalk mark.

Kwon crossed his arms, his lips curling into a smirk. "What? Too easy for you?" His voice dripped with mockery.

Robby tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "This is stupid," he muttered, turning slightly, but Kwon's grin widened.

"Okay, let's make bet, then," Kwon said, stepping closer. His tone was low, almost predatory, as he pressed a finger against Robby's chest. "You kick." His finger moved, pointing at himself. "Then I kick. You win, you get my room. I win..." His smirk deepened, his voice dropping to a sinister murmur. 

"...I get your room."

Robby's expression hardened, his jaw tightening. He looked Kwon dead in the eyes, his voice steady and cool. "You're on."

He extended his hand, and Kwon took it without hesitation, gripping tightly as their gazes locked. The grin on Kwon's face was equal parts sinister and smug, a man confident in his victory before the game had even started.

Behind Robby, his teammates exchanged worried glances, as they all huddled up in a corner.

On Cobra Kai's side, Kwon was already basking in his perceived victory. He turned to Yoon, who gave him a small, approving nod, and then to y/n. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable except for the faintest twitch of disapproval.

"What?" Kwon asked, tilting his head at her. "Don't look at me like that. You should be rooting for me."

"I am rooting for you." Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "But that doesn't mean I'm supportive of this... gambling business, because god forbid you lose--"

"I'm winning," he corrected, his voice cocky as he adjusted his stance. "Big difference."

Y/n opened her mouth to retort, but the sound of Hawk hyping up Robby drew her attention. On the other side of the room, Eli was patting Robby on the shoulder, grinning like this was a championship final.

"Come on, man," Hawk said with a smirk. "Kick his ass—figuratively, of course. Unless..." He laughed, earning a small smile from Robby.

The room buzzed with anticipation as the two teams moved to their respective corners, preparing for the showdown.

Kwon, however, couldn't stop glancing back at y/n. Even surrounded by his team, the gnawing jealousy lingered. He hated the way she stood a little too close to Miguel earlier, the way she was still watching the Miyagi-do team now. His fists clenched as he turned his attention back to the wall.

Robby's cool, focused demeanor only fueled Kwon's irritation. If he was going to win, he'd make sure everyone—especially y/n—saw it.

The room buzzed with tension, every breath in the crowd held as Robby took his position. The faint sound of his teammates murmuring encouragement fell away as he focused on the target.

With a determined exhale, the boy ran toward the wall. His form was perfect, his movements fluid as he leaped into the air. His kick connected with a resounding thud, leaving a chalk mark a good five inches above the initial target.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, the energy in the room electric. Some of the Miyagi-do students whooped, while others clapped in triumph. Even a few Cobras exchanged surprised looks, unable to deny the skill behind the kick.

Robby turned, his calm confidence unwavering as he walked back to Kwon. He smirked at him, just enough to needle under Kwon's skin, before heading back to his teammates.

Eli immediately stepped forward, grinning wide as he bumped fists with Robby. "That's what I'm talking about!" Eli crowed, clapping him on the back.

But while the American team celebrated, Kwon stood still, his jaw tightening at Robby's smugness. From across the room, y/n watched the scene unfold. Her jaw clenched at the sight of Robby's smirk, her frustration bubbling over.

God, I hate him, she thought bitterly.

She didn't care how mad she was at Kwon. Right now, nothing mattered except wiping that arrogant smirk off Keene's face. Her eyes darted to Kwon, and without hesitation, she strode over to him.

Kwon, still glaring at his opponent, barely registered her approach until he felt her hands on his shoulders. With a firm tug, she pried his jacket off, her movements sharp and purposeful.

She didn't speak. She didn't have to. The look she gave him—intense and unyielding—said it all. No mercy.

For a moment, Kwon stared at her, his emotions simmering beneath the surface. Then, slowly, he nodded. The silent exchange was enough.

Shrugging off the rest of his jacket, he gave it to her and stepped forward. The crowd grew quiet again as he took his position, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. His eyes flicked to the Miyagi-do team, a cocky smirk spreading across his face.

"This won't take long," he muttered, loud enough for them to hear.

Robby crossed his arms, unimpressed, while Eli and Miguel exchanged wary glances.

Kwon let out a sharp cry as he launched himself into a flawless 720-degree spin, his kick connecting with the wall in a thunderous impact. The chalk mark was a solid eight inches above Robby's.

The room erupted into chaos. Cheers and shouts filled the air, the crowd completely losing it.

The Cobras roared in celebration, clapping and whooping. y/n didn't cheer, but a satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she crossed her arms, watching Robby's reaction closely. She wasn't surprised by Kwon's performance—not in the slightest. Kwon was the strongest member of Cobra Kai, a wildcard who thrived under pressure.

The raven then turned back to Miyagi-do, his smirk practically glowing with self-satisfaction. With deliberate, almost lazy strides, he sauntered over to Robby, whose jaw was tight with frustration.

Robby didn't say a word as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two room cards—his and Demetri's—and slapped them into Kwon's waiting hand.

Kwon accepted them with a mockingly sweet smile. "Don't worry," he said, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "I'll leave your bags in the hall."

Robby's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident, but he didn't make a scene. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, his posture stiff with annoyance.

Kwon watched him go, his grin widening as he turned back to his teammates. The Cobras were all smiles and laughter, clapping Kwon on the back as they basked in the victory.

Y/n gave him a slight nod, her way of acknowledging his win without saying a word, returning the jacket. Kwon caught the look and smirked at her, his earlier jealousy and frustration fading in the glow of triumph.

"Not bad, huh..?"

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