Michael had said. Finally, Ron nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Thank you for being honest with us, Michael. It's clear that you've thought a lot about this. We'll take everything you've said into consideration as we move forward."

Michael nodded in return, feeling a mix of relief and lingering unease. He knew this was only the beginning of what would be a complex relationship with the All Valley Tournament and the legacy of Cobra Kai.

As the meeting wrapped up, the committee members stood to shake hands with Michael, each offering a few polite words as they did. Michael responded in kind, maintaining his calm exterior. But as he left the boardroom and stepped out into the sunlight, he couldn't shake the feeling that the shadow of his father's legacy would always be just behind him, no matter how far he tried to move forward.

The real test, he knew, was yet to come.

🐍

As the class filed into their seats, the atmosphere buzzed with the usual chatter, but it was tinged with an undercurrent of mockery directed toward Sam. The bright red Blow Pop stuck to her back had become a cruel symbol of the latest rumor circulating the school, and she could feel the eyes of her classmates on her as she walked to her lab station.

"Thanks for the Blow Pop, guys. Really never gets old," Sam said sarcastically, trying to mask her embarrassment with a veneer of confidence.

Demetri, seated nearby, couldn't resist piling on. "It's 'cause she gives blowjobs. Get it? Blow Pop. Blow job."

Miguel shot Demetri a look of disapproval. "Yeah, I get it. It's just a rumor."

Before the conversation could continue, Mr. Palmer, their biology teacher, interrupted the growing tension with his usual boisterous humor. "Hey, everybody. Who let the pigs out? I did, because I ordered the fetal pigs. But seriously, get in your groups."

As students shuffled around, Sam raised her hand. "Mr. Palmer, my partner's absent."

Palmer scanned the room, his eyes landing on the various clusters of students already paired off. "Oh, who wants to take Samantha in? This little piggy needs a group."

Silence. No one raised their hand. Sam felt a lump forming in her throat as the room seemed to close in on her.

Moon, catching Sam's eye, gave a small, almost mocking smile. "Guess no one wants the Blow Pop girl," she whispered to Zeke, who was standing next to her.

Zeke rolled his eyes at Moon's comment. "It's probably just a rumor," he said, his tone dismissive.

Moon looked at him skeptically. "How can you be so sure?"

Zeke sighed. "Because Kyler's a bully. Remember how he was beating up Miguel? That guy lives off making other people look bad. This is just another one of his games."

Moon hesitated, her skepticism wavering as she considered Zeke's words. "Yeah, but what about what you did to Rory?"

Zeke's expression hardened. "Rory had it coming. That's different."

Mr. Palmer's voice cut through their conversation. "Don't all volunteer at once."

Miguel, who had been quietly watching the exchange, suddenly spoke up. "We'll take her."

Sam looked at Miguel, surprised and grateful. "Thank you. I'm gonna go grab a chair."

Miguel smiled awkwardly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah. No problem."

As Sam moved to grab a chair, Zeke smirked at Miguel, leaning in to give him a light-hearted jab. "Blushing over there, man?"

Miguel tried to play it cool, shrugging off Zeke's teasing. "Shut up, dude."

But Zeke wasn't letting him off that easy. "I'm just saying, you got it bad, bro."

🐍

Back at the dojo, the atmosphere was starkly different from the day before. The energetic buzz had faded, leaving behind an almost oppressive silence. The group of dedicated students had significantly dwindled, their absence palpable in the emptiness of the dojo.

Johnny stood at the front, surveying the remaining students with a critical eye. "Okay, everybody fall in," he commanded.

Zeke, along with a few others, fell into formation. Johnny glanced around the room, his expression one of displeasure.

"Where's everyone?" Johnny demanded, his tone edged with irritation. "Crater face? Nose ring? Slingshot?"

Miguel, stepping forward, answered with a hint of resignation. "They quit, Sensei."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, the anger in his eyes momentarily replaced by a glint of satisfaction. "You serious? I mean, good. That was a test. I wanted to see who the quitters are."

He looked at the remaining group with a mixture of approval and challenge. "Not you guys. You're in it to win it. Right, you could be at home, playing your iComputers, playing your video games, eating candy. Instead, you're here, doing pushups, learning how to fight."

Zeke, barely containing a smirk, added, "A bunch of pussies anyway."

Johnny's gaze shifted to Eli. "Lip. Look. Even Lip's tougher than those guys. He's no quitter."

Eli's face tightened, and he spoke up, though his voice was barely above a whisper. "Could you please not call me that?"

Johnny's eyes widened with mock confusion. "Excuse me, what?"

Eli repeated, more firmly, "I said, could you please not call me that."

Aisha, sensing the tension, stepped in. "Um, I'll warm 'em up, Sensei."

Johnny ignored her. "No, no, no. Lip has something he wants to say. Sorry, speak up, Lip. Or is your tongue messed-up too? Are you one of those challenged kids?"

Eli hesitated. "Um, the doctor said I could be on the spectrum."

Johnny shrugged dismissively. "I don't know what that is, but get off it pronto."

Zeke, uncomfortable with the interaction, spoke up. "It's not like that."

Johnny turned on him. "Got something you wanna say, Zeke?"

Zeke shook his head. "No, Sensei."

Johnny, satisfied with Zeke's response, turned back to Eli. "Good. All right? If you don't want me to call you Lip, then don't have a weird lip. Can't you get surgery for that?"

Eli's face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. "I was born with a cleft lip. This is the scar from the surgery."

Johnny's expression remained unchanged. "You mean it was worse before that? Or did the doctor just screw up? Because if this is the after photo, that sucks, man. You should sue."

Eli's patience snapped. "Can we just please change the topic?"

Johnny grinned, reveling in the discomfort he was causing. "You don't think I want to? It's tough when it's right in front of me. If you want to be something other than a nerd with a scar on his lip, then you gotta flip the script. Okay? Get a face tattoo. Or gauge your eye out. We'll call you Patch, all right? No, don't do that one. You'll still look like a freak."

Eli had reached his breaking point. His face was flushed, and his eyes were misty with anger and hurt. With a final, pained look at Johnny, he stormed out of the dojo.

Johnny's satisfaction quickly turned into annoyance. "Uh, great, really? Another quitter? Go away. No more lessons today."

Miguel, watching the scene unfold, followed Johnny back to his office, leaving Zeke behind. Zeke, however, wasn't done yet. He decided to find Eli, feeling a pang of sympathy for the kid who had always lacked self-confidence.

Zeke tracked Eli down outside, where he found him leaning against a wall, his face a mixture of frustration and resignation.

"Hey," Zeke said, approaching him. "Eli, wait up."

Eli looked up, his expression guarded. "What do you want, Zeke?"

Zeke took a deep breath. "I know Johnny can be a real jerk sometimes. I've seen him push people too far. But, honestly, he's got a point. If you don't want to get picked on, you have to stand up for yourself. That's what Miguel did. That's what I did."

Eli's gaze was conflicted. "Yeah, well, I guess I have to stop being a little bitch and actually do something about it."

Zeke nodded, understanding where Eli was coming from. "Exactly. You can't just sit back and let people walk all over you. It's tough, but if you don't stand up for yourself, things will just keep getting worse."

Eli looked down, processing Zeke's words. After a moment, he sighed deeply. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks for talking to me."

🐍

As Zeke and Moon shared a lingering kiss outside the dojo, Moon felt a mixture of excitement and unease. The connection between them was undeniable, but Zeke's intensity and aggression had started to unsettle her. For the past four months, their relationship had been marred by her discomfort with his more aggressive tendencies, which were becoming more apparent.

A flashback from the previous day replayed in her mind. It was during gym class, a setting where Zeke's aggressive nature had taken center stage. The gym was filled with the usual chatter and activity, but Moon's attention was drawn to a confrontation between Zeke and another student.

The other student, a lanky kid with glasses, had accidentally bumped into Zeke while playing dodgeball. Instead of letting it go, Zeke's face twisted into a scowl, and he pushed the kid hard, causing him to stumble. The kid tried to apologize, but Zeke's anger flared. He pushed him again, his voice rising in frustration.

"Watch where you're going!" Zeke shouted, his eyes flashing with intensity. The kid's attempts to explain or make amends only fueled Zeke's anger. When the teacher intervened, Zeke's body language remained aggressive, and he glared at the kid as if daring him to challenge him again. The scene left Moon feeling deeply unsettled, her unease growing with each of Zeke's aggressive reactions.

She cared about him for sure, and he was such a good guy. However, his aggressive behavior and anger scared her. Way more than she thought she would.

Aisha spoke up, her tone reflecting the ongoing issues. "Three more absences, Sensei."

Zeke's expression hardened. "Bunch of pussies."

Johnny, trying to rally the remaining students, took a different approach. "No, it's my fault. Since you joined Cobra Kai, I have been hard on you. I've called you names. I've humiliated you. Some of you I've hit. And for that, I don't apologize."

His gaze swept over the group, his voice a mix of tough love and raw honesty. "Cobra Kai is about strength. If you're not strong on the inside, you can't be strong on the outside. And right now you're all weak. And I know that because I was you. I used to have no friends. Used to be the weirdo kid. Not that weird; I still hooked up with babes and all, but..."

Johnny paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. "The point is, I wasn't always the badass sensei I am today. Just like a cobra, I had to shed my loser skin to find my true power. And you guys will too."

The dojo's door swung open, and a new figure entered. It was Eli, now sporting a bright blue Mohawk, a stark contrast to his previous appearance. Johnny's eyes lit up with recognition. "Welcome to Cobra Kai."

Miguel approached Eli, his curiosity piqued. "Eli, what happened?"

Eli's response was confident. "I'm flipping the script."

Zeke watched with approval, nodding to Eli. The transformation was impressive, and Zeke respected the change. Johnny, catching the shift in mood, addressed the group with renewed fervor. "Wait, are you the kid with the lip?"

Zeke added, "Nice cut, bro."

Eli returned the gesture, dabbing up Zeke. "Thanks for the talk, man."

Johnny's tone became more encouraging. "You see that? Doesn't matter if you're a loser or a nerd or a freak. All that matters is that you become badass."

Johnny turned to Eli, now calling him by his new nickname. "Hawk. Fall in."

Eli, or Hawk as he was now known, took off his shoes and stepped onto the mat, clearly thrilled with his new identity. Johnny continued with the dojo's core tenets. "Fear does not exist in this dojo, does it?"

"No, Sensei!"

Johnny pressed on. "Pain does not exist in this dojo, does it?"

Miguel answered with conviction. "No, Sensei."

Johnny's final question was met with determined voices. "Defeat does not exist in this dojo, does it?"

Zeke, along with the others, shouted, "No, Sensei."

Johnny's approval was evident as he concluded, "Class, are you ready to learn the way of the fist?"

The unified response from the students was a resolute, "Yes, Sensei!"

🐍

The atmosphere in the meeting room of the All Valley Tournament Board was familiar to Daniel LaRusso. As he walked in, he nodded to a few of the members he recognized from previous years. The board was deep in discussion, their voices a low murmur of logistics and preparations for the upcoming tournament.

Daniel took his seat, settling into the routine of the meeting. He listened as Ron, one of the senior members of the board, went over the usual agenda items. The room had a sense of camaraderie, built over years of working together to uphold the tradition of the All Valley Karate Tournament.

But that sense of normalcy was shattered when the door opened, and Michael Kreese walked in.

The moment Daniel saw him, a wave of unease washed over him. His grip on the edge of the table tightened involuntarily. He hadn't seen Michael in decades, not since high school, but the memories came flooding back as if it were yesterday. The bullying, the fights, the fear—Michael was part of that dark chapter in his life.

The room fell silent as Michael took a seat at the table. There was a sense of curiosity among the board members, but Daniel could feel something else—a quiet tension, as if a storm was brewing.

Ron cleared his throat and began the introductions. "We have a new member joining us today. This is Michael Kreese, a well-known attorney who's expressed interest in contributing to the All Valley Tournament."

Daniel felt his heart race. He knew he had to speak up. "With all due respect, Ron," Daniel started, his voice tight, "I don't think it's a good idea for Michael to be involved in this tournament."

The other board members turned to him, surprised by his sudden outburst. Ron raised an eyebrow. "Daniel, what's the issue?"

Daniel struggled to keep his voice steady. "Michael Kreese... He was a Cobra Kai back in the day, just like his father, John Kreese. We all know what Kreese did during those tournaments—he taught his students to fight dirty, to show no mercy. This is the same man who terrorized me and my friends in high school."

The room grew tense. Daniel could see the doubt in some of their eyes. It was as if they couldn't reconcile the man before them with the bully from decades ago.

Michael, calm and composed, finally spoke. "Look, that was a long time ago. High school was... well, high school. We were all different people back then. I've changed, Daniel. I'm not the same person I was when we were kids."

Daniel shook his head, unable to hide his frustration. "It's not just about high school. Your father nearly destroyed this tournament with his toxic teachings. You can't just walk in here and expect us to believe you've changed without question."

Sue, another board member, interjected gently. "Daniel, people can change. It's been over thirty years. Michael has a respected career now, and he's been nothing but upfront with us."

Daniel could feel his pulse in his temples. "I'm not saying people can't change. I'm saying this is too close to home. This tournament represents something more than just a competition—it's about honor and respect. Letting Michael in... it just doesn't feel right."

Michael looked directly at Daniel, his expression sincere. "I understand your concerns, Daniel. But I'm here to help, to make sure this tournament continues to be a positive force in the community. My father made mistakes, and I've had my own struggles, but I'm not my father. I'm here as a father myself now, trying to set a better example for my own children."

The board members exchanged glances. There was a pause, a moment where Daniel felt the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present.

George, one of the more senior members, spoke up. "We appreciate your input, Daniel. But we also believe in giving people a second chance. Michael has assured us he's here to contribute positively. We'll be keeping a close eye on everything."

Daniel felt a mix of disappointment and dread. He wanted to argue more, to convince them that this was a mistake, but he could see their minds were made up. He sighed, knowing he was outnumbered.

"Just remember," Daniel said, his voice firm, "if anything happens, I won't hesitate to step in. This tournament means too much to let history repeat itself."

Michael nodded, understanding the gravity of Daniel's words. "I wouldn't expect anything less."