The days leading up to the regional tournament were like a storm on the horizon. It wasn't just the pressure to perform that was weighing on everyone, but the tension in the dojo itself. Mike could feel it every time he stepped on the mat: the students were divided. Some had embraced his teachings, finding value in discipline and strategy. Others, like Hawk, clung to the old ways of Cobra Kai—fueled by raw emotion, aggression, and the desire to prove something to the world.
Johnny was still mostly silent, his focus solely on preparing the students for the tournament. It was as if he had reverted back to the mindset that had made Cobra Kai infamous. There was no balance, no subtlety in his approach. It was all about winning—whatever the cost.
Mike had been trying to keep the peace, offering lessons on control and discipline, but Johnny was relentless in his pursuit of victory. The dojo had become a powder keg, and Mike knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded.
A Week Before the Tournament
Mike stood in front of the dojo, watching the students spar. Miguel, Chris, and Nate were in the middle of a drill, while Hawk hovered on the sidelines, his eyes focused and intense. There was a fire in his gaze, but Mike could see it now—something darker than the hunger for victory. It was anger, pure and unfiltered. Hawk was struggling with the changes Mike had introduced. Every fight was a way to assert his dominance, to prove that he was still the top dog in the dojo.
"Take a break, guys," Mike called out, his voice cutting through the noise. Miguel and the others paused, sweat dripping from their faces. "Hawk, come here."
Hawk hesitated for a moment but then walked over, his shoulders tight.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Mike said, crossing his arms. "This isn't about power, Hawk. It's about control. You're letting your anger drive you, and that's not going to help you when you face someone who can think strategically."
Hawk scoffed, looking Mike up and down. "What do you know about fighting, huh? You've never been in a tournament. You're just some washed-up soldier with some ideas about discipline."
Mike didn't flinch, his eyes steady. "I've been in plenty of fights, Hawk. And I've learned that anger can only take you so far. Eventually, it blinds you. It makes you predictable."
Hawk's expression darkened. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't care about being predictable. I care about winning."
Mike's gaze softened. "Winning is important, but it's not everything. The real victory is about being the best version of yourself—inside and out. You're better than this."
Hawk didn't answer. He just turned and walked away, his fists clenched. Mike stood there, watching him, knowing that Hawk wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. But he couldn't give up on him—not yet.
That Night, Johnny's House
Johnny sat at his kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of beer in front of him. The TV blared in the background, but his eyes were fixed on the same spot—his old Cobra Kai gi hanging on the wall, faded and worn with time. It had been a symbol of power, of dominance, of something he'd lost over the years. A time when he felt like he had everything under control.
The doorbell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He groaned and stood up, making his way to the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Daniel standing there, looking just as serious as Johnny felt.
"Can I come in?" Daniel asked, his voice calm but with a hint of something else—maybe concern, maybe curiosity.
Johnny stepped aside, letting Daniel in. "What's this about, LaRusso?"
Daniel didn't waste time. "I'm here because we need to talk. About Cobra Kai. About what it's become—and what it could be."
Johnny narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you mean, what it could be? Cobra Kai's the way it's always been. There's no changing that."
Daniel sighed, shaking his head. "You're still holding on to that, huh? The past. You think that's going to get you anywhere? It's not just about fighting anymore, Johnny. It's about the kind of people we want to be—the kind of people we teach these kids to be."
Johnny shot him a skeptical look. "I don't need a lecture from you about teaching kids. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have."
Daniel crossed his arms. "That's the problem, Johnny. You're stuck in the past, in that old mindset that got you where you are today. And look where that got you."
Johnny stiffened, but Daniel wasn't done.
"Look at what you've built here. You've got kids who are trying to learn, trying to grow. But you're still pushing them into this mold where aggression and violence are the only answers. That's not who you want them to be. You don't want them to be like you."
Johnny looked away, his jaw clenched. He didn't want to hear it, but a part of him knew Daniel was right. For all the bravado, all the confidence, Johnny knew deep down that something was missing. Maybe he'd never had a true family. Maybe he'd never known what it meant to really live beyond the fight.
"I'm not like you, LaRusso," Johnny muttered, his voice low. "I don't have your perfect life, your perfect family. I never did."
Daniel softened his stance, his voice gentler now. "Johnny, I get it. I do. But you don't have to keep fighting, not like this. You're not alone. You've got people here who want to see you succeed, who want to see Cobra Kai become something more than just a symbol of violence. It's not too late to change. But it starts with you. It starts with letting go of that past."
Johnny stared at him, his mind racing. The words were starting to sink in, but they felt foreign. Was it really possible to change? Was he even capable of it?
"Maybe it's not too late," Johnny said, more to himself than to Daniel. "Maybe."
The Day Before the Tournament
The dojo was packed with students, each of them preparing for the tournament the next day. The atmosphere was tense, but there was something different in the air. Johnny had pulled back on the intensity of his drills, though the students didn't seem to notice. They were focused, nervous, ready for what was to come.
Mike walked through the dojo, taking in the sights and sounds. He saw Hawk, still on edge, but there was something else in his eyes now—a flicker of doubt. Miguel, as usual, was focused and determined, ready to do whatever it took to prove himself. But Mike saw more than just the hunger for victory. He saw growth. He saw a fighter who was starting to understand the value of strategy.
Mike clapped his hands, drawing the attention of the students. "Alright, everyone. Tomorrow is the tournament. You've all worked hard to get here, but remember—this isn't just about winning. It's about showing what you've learned, what you've become. The real victory isn't just in the fight, but in who you are when the fight is over."
Johnny, who had been standing off to the side, looked up at Mike with a look of quiet approval. He didn't speak, but there was something in his eyes that said more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, they were starting to find some common ground.
Hawk's gaze flickered to Mike, and for the first time in a long while, Mike saw something change in him. Maybe it wasn't just about the fight. Maybe Hawk was starting to see that there was more to strength than just power.