𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 {𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙨}

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄𝙘𝙚

Johnny had been scrolling through the internet for new mats. Nothing fancy, just something that didn't smell like old socks, when an autoplay video suddenly blared through the speakers.

"Inner peace. Focus. Balance."

Johnny flinched. He looked up at the screen, already grimacing.

There, in a crisp white gi and that ever-punchable smirk, stood Daniel LaRusso, centered perfectly in front of a bonsai tree backdrop.

"These are just some of the skills that you will master when you join Miyagi-Do Karate," Daniel continued, hands folded like he was Buddha.
"I'm Daniel LaRusso, and before I was the number-one auto dealer in the Valley-"

Johnny groaned. "What the hell is this?"

Daniel's voice kept going, smug and smooth.

"—I was two-time All-Valley under-18 champion."

Johnny slumped into the chair, watching in disgust as Daniel stepped into a kata formation like he was auditioning for a meditation retreat.

"Now, you can learn the secrets of Okinawan karate, true karate, by joining the Miyagi-Do team."

Johnny squinted. "Son of a bitch."

And then Daniel delivered the final blow:

"Don't be a snake in the grass... be a champion."

The ad closed with a cheerful voiceover:

"Tweet us at #TeamMiyagiDo. And remember—all lessons are free. That's right, free.
Because at Miyagi-Do, it's not about the money. It's about the karate."

Michael entered from the back, sipping a black coffee. He looked over Johnny's shoulder at the screen, catching the last seconds of Daniel's grinning face.

"Okay, I'll admit it," Michael said, shaking his head. "That's hilarious."

Johnny's jaw tightened.

Michael chuckled. "The bonsai tree. The voice. The free lessons. He's basically Mr. Rogers with a black belt."

"I oughta shove that bonsai tree up his—"

"Alright, alright," Michael said, raising a hand with a smirk. "But seriously. He's making a move. Recruiting your kids with that balance and harmony crap."

Johnny stood up, still fuming. "He's acting like he's some karate Jesus, passing out free wisdom and shit."

Michael leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Johnny pace.

"You know what we need?" he said casually. "A little reminder. Something to shake the tree a bit."

Johnny stopped. "What kind of reminder?"

Michael shrugged with a glint in his eye. "Something that reminds the Valley what real karate looks like.
Fast. Loud. Unapologetic."

🐍

Demetri swung clumsily and missed the ball entirely, watching as it bounced and rolled into the dunes.

"Mulligan!" he shouted. "Send it back!"

Zeke caught the ball and rolled his eyes. "There's no mulligans in volleyball."

"Says you," Demetri muttered, brushing sand off his arms.

Hawk grunted, grabbing a bottle and heading for the shaded bench. Zeke followed, sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked over at Hawk, then nodded toward Demetri, who was still rambling to himself.