𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄. way of peace

"THIS WILL BE YOUR ROOM, FOR NOW," BEN SAYS, AS he led Jieun down a long hallway. And if it weren't for the see-through glass that was accompanied by people stuffing drug bags, the home would look like an ordinary mansion. The decor was ornate and expensive looking. There's clearly a staff of cleaners and cooks who keep things in order. It reminded her enough of her own home.

"You can stay for the Summer, once school starts and the death of your father comes out, you might be met with social services."

"That's it?" She asks as she looks into the room. It's a simple guest room, clean with contemporary decor to fit just about anyone's tastes. "Just the Summer?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he looks at her in confusion. "I assumed that's how long you wanted. I'll help you get stronger then after that you're on your own." He looks at his watch, "after all, I'm not your guardian." Then he turns and walks away.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She called to him, but he doesn't respond. Chasing after him, she grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Hey!"

When he glares down at her, she almost cowered. He was so tall compared to her, with that cold glare and those dark eyes that part of her was intimidated. But after the days she's had and the fact that she literally had nothing to lose, she didn't really give a shit how scary he was. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

"Who the fuck are you? Why did you take me here? How did you know my father? And how are you going to help me get revenge on that motherfucker who killed the last family I cared about?"

She squeezed the sleeve of his black button-up shirt in her fist, her long nails digging into his skin, but he doesn't react. Instead, his brow curves inward and his eyes narrow, sprouting crow's feet across his skin. Then he backs her up, pushing her into the room.

"Let me be clear. I owed your father nothing, I gave myself a promise, one that involved your life, and I keep my word, so I will ensure you remain safe. You will be a guest here for the Summer. If you get in my way, piss me off, ask too many questions, or make yourself a threat, I will consider my promise paid and toss your stubborn ass out onto the street. So I suggest you watch your goddamn mouth. Are we clear?"

Heat fills every pore of her face as she glared up at him, finding it harder and harder to keep up her stern expression when all she really wanted to do was break down and sob.

"Yes," she gritted through her teeth. Then he turns, leaving her shaking in the guest room doorway.

The shower in her room was large, with glass doors and double showerheads. She cranked the heat up as high as it would go and stood under the stream, letting it burn her skin while she cried. She had no clue where she was or who she was with.

The figure of the man who killed her father was at the front of her mind as she shut her eyes. He didn't seem very old, not much older than her father, but there was pure evil in his expression, in the eyes that she saw. The moments of the day replayed, and she tried to remember any important details now that her head was clearer than before.

She was in the living room. It was raining. The doorbell rang.

Then there was a gunshot.

If they wanted her dead, she would be. That much is clear.

Were they after her? Is she the reason he's dead?

She scrubbed her face three times to get all the debris off, and her skin burned when she turned off the water. As she stepped out of the shower, she hears voices downstairs. Staying as quiet as she can, she presses her ear to the door. She hears Ben's voice. But then there's a new one. This one was deeper, more commanding, one that could belong to an old man.

Dressing quickly, she opened the bedroom door as silently as she could, tiptoeing down the hallway to hear their conversation.

Pressing her face around the corner, she spotted the new man in black. He was way taller than Ben and his back was to her, so she couldn't make out his face.

"What do you plan to do with her?" the new man asks. His voice was stern and serious, with little to no sentiment in his tone.

"I told you. She wants to get revenge. She'll only be here for the Summer. Don't talk to her, touch her, or tell her anything," Ben said from somewhere in the house, out of her line of vision.

The new man turned his head, finally giving her a glimpse of his face. He's old, with the same smooth skin and dark hair as Ben. There's a broad slope to his nose and roundness to his chin that makes him look meaner, more severe.

"And her grandmother?"

"In Korea, recovering from surgery," Ben answers.

"Is she even allowed to learn?" The old man scoffed with his jaw clenched.

"That stupid promise got my best friend killed, I won't have her die in case they're after her too." Her hands clasp silently over her mouth, and her heart begins to hammer in her chest. "I'm taking her to the training grounds today,"

"How can you be so sure she'll keep quiet about all of this?" The man scolds.

Jieun continued her watch from the doorway, trying to keep her breathing quietly that it became hard to breathe. The old man in black paced back and forth, looking distraught.

"I'm not."

"She's a liability."

Ben steps into view, meeting the man toe-to-toe. With a blank expression on his face, he says, "I told you. She stays. I honor my word."

"Your word. Not mine," he mutters as he walks away.

Before she knew it, the old one was walking down the hallway, and she barely had enough time to escape back to her room. Just before she shut the door, he stopped. Turning his head, he stares at her through the crack, and she couldn't help but shudder.

Something told her this is the one she'd have to fear the most.

THAT NIGHT SHE WAS PUT INTO a car and taken to an abandoned building.

The paint over the softwood was deep like the way someone would spread their cream cheese. The flakes peeled at random depths showing different sun-baked hues underneath. The door, once cherry red, though the peelings are all shades of a pink that surrendered to the high sun year after year. It would move on its hinges still, but with the weariness of an old man. It creaked, the moan echoing to the rafters that still fought the sagging roof above. The windows no longer beckoned light inside, no longer lift the gloom that the walls imposed. Instead, they added to the growing sense of dampness and dark and permit the chill wind to penetrate.

She stood in the arch with a punching bag directly in front of her.

"You will train here. If it goes late, there's a room in the back ―"

She cuts him off. "Aren't you supposed to teach me?"

He continues on his way with no response. Jieun scoffed, throwing her middle finger his way. Standing in the room, she glanced down at her clothes. The baggy sweatpants were a size too big and the T-shirt may be clean but it held a man's scent. Like cedarwood and sage with a hint of smoke.

She was at the building for hours. Putting one foot in front of the other, pushing herself harder, choosing to do one more set than every half hour ― that was how she felt a sense of control. The training was how she built a sense of self-esteem whether it was for soccer or for this. She made her own label. She was an athlete, a runner, a member of a team, and not just some girl who got the short end of the stick.

She knew, deep down, she could be great, if Ben decided to teach her, building her into someone who can make harder choices when they make her stronger. That training, that experience, it can get her through anything.

She could breathe out there in the room, the soft tarmac that ate up her strides. She felt fast out there, exhilarated. To feel one's own strength, to feel one's own body flying at such speeds, it fed back right into her soul and kept her inner flames healthy and bright.

She threw one last punch at the bag, she had to learn how to dodge, how to counter punch, and how to get back up if someone landed a hit on her. She panted as she held onto the punching bag, exhausted.

"Are you thinking of running away?"

She flinched, turning towards the sound of Ben Sparrow's voice. "I'm thinking of winning." She breathed heavily.

He let out a disappointed sigh. "Exactly." He steps aside and waves her in the direction he came. "You can't win like that." He planted his feet. "It's not 'winning' but 'hurting'." He then walks back, to a wall of weapons Jieun was told to never touch. "Hurt him. That's what you should be thinking. Don't use your strength. No matter how much you train, they'll be stronger."

She could feel his eyes dancing over every inch of her body as she continued to have labored breathing. "Then what do I do?"

"Attack their vital points." He throws the knife he held to the ground, then circles around her. "The temple, upper lip, chin, solar plexus, and genitals." He pointed to each part he said. Jieun listened intently. "Just their vital points. Then you can incapacitate your opponent."

Jieun nodded, though, still confused as she didn't understand if she was doing anything wrong. "Okay," he said, he took his creme-colored suit jacket off. "Let's try it."

"What?" Jieun wanted to yell at him, she had been punching and kicking for hours, absolutely exhausted and now he finally showed, asking her to spar with him.

"Come here." She groaned but obliged. They both wrapped their knuckles in bandages and got into their positions.

Sitting just on his chest, she spotted a tattoo. It wasn't a simple outline, but of two scorpions side by side, fighting to sting each other. She wanted to ask him what it meant to him, why a scorpion? But before she could summon the courage he begins to swing at her.

By her luck, she dodges. Sweat ran down into her eyes and down her back. She did her best to try to match his speed and power. She could practically see the vapors of perspiration rise from him and the taste of sweat coated her tongue as she took gulps of air. Her shirt clung to her skin as she did her best to dodge and protect her body from his hits. Focusing on her mind while silently wishing that her agony would come to a halt.

He lands a punch on her shoulder, knocking her down. She quickly gets up and situates herself again, before he could punch her face he stops, "Upper lip." The blood in her veins start to boil; her muscles felt knotted and spent. With determination, she sent more and more punches his way. "Harder!" Another stop before he hurts her, "Chin." Ben gently pushes her head back, and she grumbled. "Keep your guard up."

He continued to call out her mistakes, her technique now becoming venomous ― god, did she want to land a punch on the man. He aggravated her.

Without any instruction to do so, she started shouting with every punch and kick. Disregarding the signals from her body that silently begged for mercy, she dodged up the strength to move again with renowned vigor.

For a few moments, nothing else changed other than the challenge to get to the end of the training session without collapsing.

Finally, all her efforts were brought to a halt when she managed to kick in the direction of his upper kip. "Oh shit, are you okay?"

He sent her a lopsided grin. "That one was good." She bowed, gasping for air and thanking the gods she finally got something on him. "You've got talent, but not enough power. Again."

He went easy on her in some moments by giving her openings on which to capitalize;  to an outsider, it might've seemed that he was toying with her, like a predator and its prey, but she took it as his way of helping her develop the correct techniques and self-confidence.

For more than two very intense hours they had punched and kicked up and down the length of the room. It was an exercise punctuated with the exchange of techniques before they could return and start all over again.

"There is nothing more peaceful than a man who is laid out unconscious." He begins, both on the ground taking a well-rested break. "Do you know what that means?"

Jieun looked at him in disbelief, "Well, I don't really know anything about anything so..." She coughed, " that's kind of a stupid question."

He rolled his eyes. "You want to know how I know your father," he stopped to look at the ceiling, "The Scorpion's Eye." He says softly. "I dedicated more than fifteen years to that dojo. The style was called Wado Ryu, which means 'way of peace. It was rooted in older philosophies and traditions, our sensei developed his own style out of it. He designed it in a way that it was a potent combat system.

He unashamedly appropriated techniques from Wado Ryu and other martial arts if they were shown to be effective. My sensei knew, that without the proper 'fighting spirit' all the good techniques in the world counted for little in a real combat situation.

He was frustrated with the rule that forbade his students to spar with each other; at the time karate was deemed too dangerous in Korea. As I said, this didn't sit well with him. He had been training in bushido, the way of the warrior, since he was a kid and knew that without the element of sparring in any combat, the system would be limited in its effectiveness. He held secret sparring sessions, and like-minded students like myself joined him.

Then, he did something that, to this day, remains unforgivable to some; he broke away and formed his own school. The phrase I told you earlier, remember it?" Jieun stiffened before nodding to him. "When he created his own dojo those of us who followed had to test ourselves, and that was the first time I had seen that philosophy is put into practice with frightening efficiency." He warned.

"I don't get it, what does this have to do with my dad?" She interrupted.

Ben closed his eyes in frustration, the girl was more like her father than he thought. "I'm getting there." She leaned back, massaging her shoulders. "My sensei always prepared us and entered us in any and every competition. And then came the Tang Soo Do competition." He sighed.

Jieun yawned.

Ben smacked the back of her head lightly, clicking his tongue to the top of his mouth. "Sorry? Am I boring you?"

"Dude, I just asked how you knew my dad and you're telling me something that has nothing to do with it."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, a gesture which, unfortunately, would become routine. "Does the name Kim Sun-yang ring a bell?" She furrowed her eyebrows, of course, he didn't know about her worst trait ― not being able to remember names, she shook her head. "He was my sensei's teacher. They called him Master Kim."

"Kim Sun-yang..." She muttered under her breath. Master Kim. It sounded so familiar, but she can't even begin to remember where she'd heard the name before. Regardless, she'll know soon enough. She had the rest of the Summer. She had that long to find out everything she could about this guy.

"Mmm," He looked at his watch, "it's getting late. We'll continue tomorrow." She takes a sip of her bottle. "Is that water?" When she turns to look at him, he could see the hesitation in her eyes. "What is it?"

"Chamomile tea. It's good for insomnia." Her fingers graze over the cold metal. "My friend Miguel gave me a pack of them, this is my last one." She continued after no response. "I haven't been getting much sleep." Seconds later he takes her bottle and waterfalls it, curious. "Hey! That's my tea ― what the hell?"

He spits it out, coughing. "Why does it taste like makeup?" He directs his attention back to her. "No way you fall asleep to this. It's gross."

Jieun leans against the wall, still on the ground while Ben got his things ready, she mutters under her breath, "Asshole."

"What's that?" He stretched his neck and tipped his ear toward her. Rolling her eyes, she finally got up from the floor, muscles aching. He places a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I'll make sure you're bandaged up."

She shook her head, "no, no. Let me take some punches and learn how to heal from them, ill figure it out."

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

woohoo another update!!

no robby but he's gonna be in the next ch for sure, its gonna be the skating ep !!

i also just keep skipping episodes i hope that doesnt bother u guys its just that theyre centered around cobra kai and miyagi do so it wouldnt make sense to include jiji just yet

YET OKAY I KNOW THIS IS GOING SLOW BUT I LIKE IN DEPTH PLOTS IM SORRY !

much love,