𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎. proceed with caution

"IF YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN BE CHAMPION, YOU WILL be. If you believe you can stride over frontiers, you can. Just as muscles get bigger and stronger with use, so does the brain... it is a physical organ after all, still a part of the body. And so, whatever you feel is your mission, your duty for the self, others, and Earth, become the gold standard of that mission. If you can imagine everyone setting out to find a different set of GPS coordinates, their own personal geo-cache, that's what we have in reality. It's your treasure, so own it, make it yours."

Jieun Kang sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, the musty scent of the old journal wafting up as she carefully turned the brittle pages. Her grandfather's handwriting was a scrawl of tangled lines, each stroke a testament to his youthful energy, yet barely legible to anyone unversed in Korean.

She silently thanked her mother for teaching her the beautiful, complex language, which allowed her to unearth these forgotten stories.

The journal's leather cover was worn, edges frayed from years of neglect. Jieun ran her fingers over the pages, feeling the indentations of his penmanship — an intimate connection to a man she'd never known, a boy who had lived and died before his prime.

She envisioned his earnest face, youthful and intense, practicing his moves with a fervor that only young men possess. The thought made her heart ache, knowing that his passion had led him to an untimely end.

As she read, the words painted vivid pictures in her mind. Her grandmother, the old witch of a woman, had always been a shadowy figure in her life, stern and forbidding.

Jieun had never understood the depths of her grandmother's bitterness, the layers of grief and fear that had hardened her over the years. But now, as she pieced together the fragments of her grandfather's story, she began to see the woman in a new light.

Jieun's eyes misted over as she imagined her grandmother, young and pregnant, sitting in the audience. How helpless she must have felt as she watched the love of her life collapse on the mats, his body crumpling like a marionette with its strings cut. The shock, the disbelief, and the crushing weight of reality that followed must have been unbearable. And in that moment, her grandmother had been carrying a piece of him inside her, their unborn child — a living testament to their love and his legacy.

She could almost hear her grandmother's anguished cries, the echo of which had reverberated through generations, shaping their family's fate. The old woman's harshness, and her strict rules about avoiding karate, suddenly made sense. It wasn't just fear; it was a desperate attempt to protect her descendants from the same heartbreak.

She thought about Robby and imagined if the positions were switched. If she had to watch him fall, lifeless, before her eyes, would she too declare such a rule? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized that, perhaps, she would have done the same.

The weight of love and loss, intertwined so deeply, was a burden she could now understand.

Jieun picked up the journal again, smoothing the pages with renewed reverence. Her grandfather's words were more than a relic of the past; they were a bridge to understanding her grandmother's pain and resilience. As she continued to read, she felt a profound connection to her heritage, a sense of peace in knowing that she was part of a lineage marked by strength and survival.

Jieun turned the page, her grandfather's voice growing clearer with each word she deciphered. Most of the journal was filled with his profound love for her grandmother, each entry a testament to their bond.

He wrote about the first time he saw her, standing under a cherry blossom tree, the petals falling like pink snow. He described her laugh, a sound that could melt the iciest of hearts, and how her eyes sparkled with a light that seemed to make the world brighter.

One entry detailed their first date, a simple walk through the park, yet it felt like an adventure to him. "In her presence, the ordinary becomes extraordinary," he wrote. "Her laughter is a melody that lingers in the air, and her smile, a beacon of warmth. She is my north star, guiding me through the darkest nights."

As Jieun read, her heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow. Her grandfather's words painted a picture of a love so deep, it transcended time and space, echoing through the years to reach her here and now.

But interwoven with these tender moments were passages dedicated to the art of karate, his other great passion. He wrote about the discipline it required and the balance it brought to his life. "Tang Soo Do is more than just a martial art," he wrote. "It is a philosophy, a way of life. It teaches us to find stillness within motion and to cultivate peace amidst the storm. It is the harmony of opposites, where strength and gentleness coexist."

One passage stood out, his words resonating with timeless wisdom. "In every punch, in every kick, lies a lesson. It is not the force we exert that defines us, but the control we exercise. True strength is not in overpowering our opponents but in mastering our own impulses. Karate teaches us humility, patience, and respect for all beings. It is a journey into the self, a path towards enlightenment."

Jieun felt his words envelop her, a warm embrace from the past. She could see him practicing his forms, his movements were fluid and precise, each one a meditation in motion. His dedication to the art was palpable, his respect for its traditions evident in every stroke of his pen.

"The dojo is a sacred space," he wrote. "It is where we confront our fears, where we transcend our limitations. It is where we learn that true victory is not in defeating others, but in conquering our own weaknesses."

As she read on, Jieun found passages filled with practical advice, his teachings aimed at a future generation he hoped would carry on his legacy. "Remember, the journey of Tang Soo Do is long and arduous, but it is one worth every step. Do not seek shortcuts, for they lead only to hollow victories. Each moment in the dojo is a lesson, each struggle a chance to grow. Embrace the challenges, for they are the crucibles that forge your spirit."

Her grandfather's words were a gift, a guide to understanding not only the art of karate but the essence of living a meaningful life. She closed the journal gently, holding it close to her heart. The old witch of a grandmother had been right to guard this legacy so fiercely.

Jieun was lost in her thoughts when a soft knock at the door startled her. She closed the journal with a gentle thud. "Come in," she called.

The door creaked open, and Robby stepped in, looking a bit nervous. His eyes flicked to the journal in her lap, then back to her face. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

Jieun managed a smile, though the heaviness of her recent discoveries lingered. "Yeah, just... family stuff. What's up?"

Robby shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck — a nervous habit she knew well. "Well, I didn't want to interrupt, but Johnny and Daniel are gearing up for the presentation. They wanted to make sure we're all... practicing." He made air quotes with his fingers, his lips quirking up in a half-smile. "Just for show."

She laughed, the sound lighter now but tinged with the residue of her emotions. "Right, because nothing says 'dedicated students' like pretending to practice."

He chuckled, the tension easing between them.

His smile then widened, but there was a shadow of hesitation in his eyes. They had just started to mend the fractured pieces of their relationship, and he seemed careful not to overstep. "You know," he said, his tone turning playful, "for someone who's pretending to practice, you sure look like you've been in deep thought. Reading anything interesting?"

Jieun's smile softened as she looked at the journal. "Just my grandfather's old journal. It's...a lot to take in."

"Sounds heavy," Robby said, his voice gentle. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you."

"Thanks," She met his eyes, the warmth between them undeniable but restrained. They had both been hurt and while the air was clearing, the wounds were still fresh.

As they walked towards the dojo, Jieun couldn't help but glance at Robby out of the corner of her eye. There was a time when his presence had been a constant source of comfort, his touch a grounding force. Now, things were different. They were treading new ground, cautious but hopeful.

Robby seemed to sense her thoughts. "You know," he began, his voice softer, "I'm really glad we're doing this. Together, I mean. It feels...right."

She nodded, her heart warming at his words. "Yeah, it does. It's going to take time, but I think we're on the right path."

He smiled a genuine, heartfelt expression that made her chest tighten. "I agree. One step at a time."

They reached the outside dojo, the sounds of students practicing filling the air. Johnny and Daniel were already there, gesturing animatedly as they explained the plan. Robby and Jieun exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them.

Moments later, they had begun. The dojo was a flurry of activity, the hum of excitement vibrating in the air. Jieun found herself positioned outside with Yujin, the crisp air filling her lungs as she centered herself.

Johnny, Daniel, and Chozen had decided it might be best if the two of them showcased their fighting skills to the organizers, an exhibition of precision and power. It had been a while since Jieun and Yujin had faced each other, and the anticipation crackled between them like electricity.

Jieun glanced at Yujin, his expression stoic but his eyes burning with intensity. They bowed to each other, a formal acknowledgment of respect, but the moment they straightened, the tension was palpable. The judges watched intently, their pens poised above clipboards, ready to take notes.

Without a word, they began. Jieun launched forward with a series of rapid punches, her fists slicing through the air with fierce determination. Yujin countered with equal speed, his movements were fluid and powerful, each block and strike a testament to his skill.

They moved in perfect synchronicity, a deadly dance of aggression and precision.

The sound of their strikes echoed through the courtyard, each impact resonating like a drumbeat. Their fellow dojo mates, practicing nearby, almost stopped to watch, mesmerized by the intensity of the sparring match.

Jieun's mind was a storm of focus, every muscle in her body coiled with purpose. She had something to prove — not just to the organizers, but to herself, to her ancestors, to the memory of her grandfather.

Yujin's eyes flashed with a mix of respect and challenge. He knew her strengths and her weaknesses, and he exploited them with ruthless efficiency. But Jieun was not to be outdone. She moved with a grace and power that seemed almost supernatural, her kicks swift and precise, her punches like iron.

She spun into a roundhouse kick, aiming for Yujin's midsection, but he anticipated the move, ducking under and sweeping her legs out from under her. Jieun hit the ground but rolled with the fall, springing back to her feet with feline agility.

Their eyes locked for a split second, and at that moment, a silent understanding passed between them — this was not just a demonstration; it was a battle of wills.

They circled each other, their breath coming in sharp bursts, the cold air stinging their lungs. Jieun launched herself at Yujin again, this time with a flurry of kicks that forced him to retreat. Each strike was delivered with precision, the culmination of training and discipline. Her body moved with a fluidity that belied the power behind her attacks, a seamless blend of grace and ferocity.

Yujin countered with a series of powerful strikes, his fists cutting through the air with deadly intent. He was relentless, each blow designed to test her limits. But Jieun met him blow for blow, her movements a symphony of controlled aggression. They were evenly matched, their skills honed to a razor's edge, and it showed in the ferocity of their sparring.

Their fellow dojo mates couldn't help but watch, their own practice forgotten in the face of such raw intensity. The organizers scribbled furiously, their eyes wide with astonishment at the display before them. Jieun could feel the weight of their gazes, the expectations pressing down on her, but she welcomed it. It fueled her, pushed her to dig deeper, to fight harder.

In a swift, fluid motion, she executed a spinning hook kick, aiming for Yujin's head. He blocked it with his forearm, the impact reverberating through his body, but the force of the kick pushed him back a step. Jieun pressed the advantage, her attacks coming faster, more relentless. She was a whirlwind of motion, a force of nature that could not be contained.

Yujin, to his credit, matched her intensity, his movements a blur of precision and power. They were two sides of the same coin, their styles complementing and challenging each other in equal measure. The air around them seemed to crackle with energy, the sheer force of their will driving them to new heights.

As the match wore on, Jieun could feel her muscles burning, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but she pushed through the pain. This was her moment, her chance to honor her grandfather's legacy, to prove that she was worthy of the art he had loved so dearly. With a final, powerful strike, she aimed a punch at Yujin's chest, her fist connecting with a resounding thud that echoed through the courtyard.

Yujin staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and respect. They stood there for a moment, panting heavily, their gazes locked. Then, slowly, they bowed to each other, a mutual acknowledgment of the battle they had fought.

The organizers exchanged impressed glances, their notes reflecting the extraordinary display they had just witnessed. Jieun felt a surge of pride and relief wash over her.

As they returned to the group, Robby caught her eye, a look of admiration and something deeper in his gaze. They had both fought their own battles, both internal and external and now, in this moment of triumph, she felt a sense of peace.

After the intense sparring session, all the students were ordered back inside the dojo. The air was thick with anticipation, a palpable buzz of excitement and nerves. As they filed into the room, Miguel and Eli, unable to contain their curiosity, pressed their ears to the doors, eavesdropping on the organizer's deliberations.

Miguel was the first to speak, his voice tinged with excitement. "He says that our style is unique... and that our dojo is different from the others..." He paused, listening intently before summarizing further, "He says we were equally impressive... bullshit." He muttered the last word under his breath, a hint of frustration seeping through.

Eli, more precise and careful with his words, interrupted. "The only way to determine which dojo can gain entry into Sekai Taikai is to see how your students fare in direct competition..." His voice carried a sense of gravity, each word carefully repeated. "Each dojo will select two fighters. One male, one female!"

The room erupted with chatter, the students eagerly speculating on who would be chosen. Jieun stood at the back, her arms crossed, observing the chaos with a calm exterior. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions. She and Sam were the only girls on the team, and while Jieun was undeniably the better fighter, Sam had deeper loyalties to the students.

The decision would not be easy.

The boys were deep in discussion, voices overlapping as they debated who would represent them. Jieun, standing apart, was left to her thoughts.

The door to the main hall opened, and the three senseis entered, commanding immediate silence. The anticipation was palpable as they stood before the assembled students.

Daniel cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping the room. "We all know what's at stake here. The Sekai Taikai is an incredible opportunity, and we need the best to represent us." Chozen nodded in agreement. "We're looking for not just the best fighters, but those who embody the spirit of what we've built here. This isn't just about winning; it's about representing our values."

Johnny's eyes landed on Jieun and Sam, who stood at opposite ends of the room, tension coiling between them like a live wire. "To make sure we choose the right female representative," he continued, "you two will spar. Right now. Outside."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the students. Sam's eyes flashed with anger and hurt, a storm brewing behind her composed exterior. She then turned on her heel and stormed outside, her movements stiff with indignation. Daniel watched her go, his face a mask of professional detachment, though Jieun could see the strain in his eyes.

He turned to Jieun, his expression softening. "You're a remarkable fighter. Show us what you're made of."

Jieun nodded, feeling a rush of determination. She glanced at Robby, Miguel, and Eli. Their supportive smiles and nods gave her the boost of confidence she needed.

Outside, the air was crisp and cool, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the courtyard. Sam was already in her fight stance, practicing swift kicks and punches with an intensity that bordered on fury. She was determined to prove herself, to reclaim the automatic trust she thought she deserved.

Jieun took a deep breath, grounding herself in the present. She turned to Miguel, Robby, and Eli once more. Their encouragement was like a warm embrace, strengthening her resolve. With a final nod, she stepped forward, situating herself opposite Sam.

The two girls bowed to each other, a formality that felt laden with unspoken words. Sam's eyes were hard, her jaw set in a determined line. Jieun met her gaze with a calm intensity, channeling the wisdom and strength of her grandfather.

The sparring began with a fierce exchange of blows, their movements a blur of speed and precision. Jieun's mind was a focused whirlwind, her body moving almost instinctively. She could feel the weight of every expectation, every doubt, and she used it to fuel her resolve.

Sam's attacks were powerful and direct, each strike delivered with a force that spoke of her desperation to prove herself. Jieun countered with a fluid grace, her movements a blend of strength and agility. She danced around Sam's strikes, finding openings and exploiting them with calculated precision.

The students watched in awe, the intensity of the sparring match drawing them in. Jieun's world narrowed to the rhythm of the fight, the cadence of her breath, the thud of her heart. She could feel the legacy of her grandfather guiding her, each movement a tribute to his teachings.

Sam lunged forward with a high kick, aiming for Jieun's head. Jieun ducked under it, pivoting smoothly to deliver a swift strike to Sam's side. Sam staggered but quickly regained her footing, her eyes blazing with renewed determination. She charged again, her attacks relentless.

Jieun met each strike with calm precision, her body moving in perfect harmony with her mind. She could see the frustration building in Sam's eyes, the realization that sheer force alone wouldn't be enough. Jieun's movements were a symphony of balance and control, her strikes landing with surgical accuracy.

The sparring match seemed to stretch on, each moment laden with the weight of their determination. Finally, with a powerful roundhouse kick, Jieun sent Sam sprawling to the ground. Sam lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, her pride and frustration mingling in her eyes.

Jieun extended a hand, her breath coming in controlled bursts. "Good match," she said, her voice steady but kind.

Sam looked up, her expression conflicted. She took Jieun's hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Yeah," she muttered, her voice begrudging but respectful. "Good match."

Jieun stood victorious, her breath steadying as the intensity of the sparring match slowly ebbed away. However, the senseis exchanged glances before stepping aside, their low voices merging into a quick, hushed conversation. As they rejoined the group, Robby gave Jieun a supportive squeeze on the shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring.

The senseis approached, their expressions solemn. Johnny nodded approvingly, while Chozen's face remained impassive, his eyes betraying a hint of admiration. Daniel stepped forward, his gaze softening as he looked at Jieun.

"Well done, you two," he said, his voice filled with genuine respect. "You've shown us what it means to fight with both skill and heart." Daniel cleared his throat, his expression serious. "However, we need to further evaluate the fight. We'll let you know later tonight who will be the representative."

Jieun furrowed her eyebrows, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the hell does that mean?"

Sam, her voice laced with cruelty, interrupted, "It means that while you may have won, they're looking for someone with more skill."

The words cut through her like a blade, her anger rising. She could feel the shift in the air, the way her presence seemed to make everyone around her tense. The atmosphere was thick with an unspoken threat, a storm waiting to break.

Jieun sucked her teeth, her anger rising. She turned to Miguel, Robby, Yujin, and Eli, her voice sharp as she questioned them, "Do you need to discuss further who you'd choose out of the four?"

Miguel replied, his tone solemn, "No, it was pretty unanimous that it'd be Eli. He..." He paused, the silence heavy. "He beat both of us fair and square at the tournament."

Jieun scoffed, frustration and disbelief mingling in her expression. She turned away, her movements stiff with anger, ready to leave, when Johnny's voice cut through the tension. "Where do you think you're going?"

She whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury, and stormed towards Sam. The students around them seemed to shrink back, intimidated by the intensity radiating from her. Sam tried to maintain a calm facade but was clearly unnerved by Jieun's proximity.

"Tell me you were better than me," She demanded, her voice low and dangerous. Her glare was piercing, her presence overwhelming.

Sam said nothing, turning her head towards her classmates, silently seeking support. "Tell me," Jieun repeated, her tone even more menacing. The tension was almost unbearable, the air crackling with unspoken words and hidden fears.

Jieun cut through it again, her voice sharp. "Why is it that no one wants to hurt her feelings? It's always been the Sam LaRusso show around here, but it's not gonna be for me, not this time."

Anthony, Sam's brother, spoke up, his voice defensive. "C'mon, don't make it a stupid pride thing."

Jieun turned to him, smirking. "Oh, it's a pride thing. But it's not stupid." She then turned back to Sam, her eyes cold. "Congratulations, Sam, you got the gig."

The students around them were silent, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. The senseis watched, their expressions inscrutable.

She faced the three senseis, her voice steady and resolute. "I don't want it." With that, she turned and left, her steps firm and unyielding, leaving behind a stunned silence.

UNDER THE SOFT GLOW OF THE dimmed lights that lined the backyard, Sam's fists met the punching bag with a rhythmic intensity. Each strike reverberated through the still night, a testament to her dedication and simmering frustration. Her father, Daniel LaRusso, held the bag steady, his eyes filled with both pride and concern. Chozen stood a few steps away, arms crossed, observing the session with a practiced eye.

"Good. Looking unbeatable. Let's not overdo it. That's enough for tonight," Daniel said, lowering the bag and wiping sweat from his brow.

Sam's breath came in quick, sharp bursts. "Are you sure? I-I can go again."

Chozen stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. "Must rest. Save for tomorrow."

Reluctantly, Sam nodded, stepping back and wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her mind, however, remained restless, the events of the day replaying with stubborn persistence. She thought back to the sparring session with Jieun, her unexpected decision, and the anger that had flared up in its wake.

She turned to her father, her voice tentative. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

Daniel nodded, his expression encouraging. "Of course, Sam. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Sam gathered her thoughts. "Were you... were you actually considering Jiji to represent the dojo? Over me?"

Daniel's eyes softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Sam, Jiji is incredibly strong. She's faced so much and come out on the other side. Losing both her parents, and dealing with that kind of pain... shapes a person. Her anger, it's not just something to overcome. It's been a driving force for her, a way to channel all that hurt into something powerful."

Sam's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions. "But I thought... I thought you'd want me to represent the dojo."

Daniel smiled gently, pulling her into a hug. "I do, Sam. I believe in you completely. But I also see the strength in her, and I understand her journey. Her anger is justified, and it's a part of what makes her so formidable."

Sam felt a pang of guilt as she remembered the harsh words she'd hurled at Jieun earlier. She'd seen her as a rival, someone who stood in the way of her own goals, without truly understanding the depth of her struggle.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't see it that way. I was just... I was so focused on proving myself," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel squeezed her shoulder. "It's okay, Sam. We all have moments like that. What's important is that you recognize it and learn from it. Jiji's strength comes from her pain, just like your strength comes from your dedication and passion. There's room for both of you to be incredible in your own ways."

Sam nodded, a newfound clarity settling over her. Her anger and resentment toward Jieun had been misplaced, born out of her own insecurities and need for validation. At that moment, she realized that understanding and empathy were just as crucial as strength and skill.

The cool night air settled around them, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine and the distant hum of cicadas. Daniel's presence was a steady anchor, grounding Sam as she navigated the turbulent emotions churning within her. She felt the weight of his words sinking in, each one a pebble dropped into the still waters of her mind, creating ripples of understanding and introspection.

"Her life is so different from mine," Sam began, her voice reflective. "I've always had you and Mom, the dojo, Anthony. I guess I never really understood how much she's been through, how much she's had to fight just to stay afloat."

Daniel nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "It's easy to see the world from our own perspective, to measure others by our own experiences. But everyone carries their own burdens, their own battles that we might not see. Jieun's strength is born from her resilience, her ability to rise despite everything trying to pull her down."

Sam's mind wandered back to the sparring session, the raw intensity in Jieun's movements, the fierce determination in her eyes. She had misinterpreted it as aggression, a challenge to her own abilities, rather than a manifestation of Jieun's inner struggles. The realization made her chest tighten with a mix of shame and empathy.

"I wish I had understood that earlier," Sam admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "I was so caught up in my own need to prove myself that I didn't see the bigger picture. I didn't see her pain."

Daniel squeezed her shoulder gently. "It's not too late, Sam. Recognizing it now is important. It means you're growing, and learning to see beyond yourself. That's a crucial part of being a true martial artist, and a compassionate human being."

Sam looked up at the stars, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the myriad lives it held. "Do you think she'll forgive me? For what I said, for not understanding?"

Daniel's smile was warm, his eyes filled with the wisdom of years and the gentleness of a father. "I think if you approach her with sincerity, she'll see that you've changed. Apologies are powerful, Sam, but so is the intention behind them. Show her that you understand now, that you respect her."

Sam nodded, a sense of resolve settling in her heart.

His eyes shone with pride. "That's my girl. Remember, the dojo isn't just about fighting. It's about honor, respect, and understanding. You're embodying those values by recognizing your own mistakes and striving to make amends."

The night deepened around them, the silence between father and daughter comfortable, filled with the unspoken bond that years of shared experiences had forged.

"Thanks, Dad," she said again, her voice steady, filled with gratitude.

Daniel pulled her into a hug, his embrace strong and reassuring.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

me remembering that the new season comes out in THREE DAYS so now im panicking about finishing this season

i only have like 3 ep lefts but STILL!!!

im determined to finish in these next three days !!!!

how excited are we for the new season???

also, how did we feel about sam?? needed her to stop crying and being the victim so hopefully next ch she finally apologizes to my bby jiji

much love,