Reseda, California – Next Morning
The sun was just starting to warm the pavement when Johnny opened the dojo. Still holding his coffee, he was already in a bad mood.
"Come on, you pair of maggots, wake those muscles up!" he shouted as Miguel and I walked through the door.
Miguel yawned. I just took off my jacket and threw it over a chair.
"No technique today. Today is endurance, pain, and mindset. So get ready to suffer," Johnny said, blasting 80s music through the speakers.
The next two hours were torture.
Knuckle push-ups on the cement. Squats with sandbags on our shoulders. Punches against the wall. Johnny walked between us yelling like we were in a military boot camp.
Miguel ended up throwing up behind the dojo.
I… endured. Barely. But I endured.
When it was over, the three of us lay sprawled out on the tatami, breathing like we'd just run a marathon with a rock on our chest.
"That... was brutal," said Miguel between gasps.
"This is karate, man," I replied with a half-smile.
Johnny cracked open a beer, leaning against the dojo wall, sweaty but satisfied.
"What doesn't kill you… makes you Cobra Kai."
He paused for a moment, watching us lying on the tatami.
"By the way… you don't have any friends who might wanna join?" he asked casually.
"Friends?" Miguel looked at him from the floor.
"Bah, forget it. You probably don't even have friends," Johnny said, disappointed. "If we don't get more students this month, the dojo's going under."
"Have you thought about advertising?" asked Miguel, still catching his breath.
"Yeah, sure… advertising," Johnny said, as if it were something he had in mind, but clearly had no clue where to start.
"I'll take care of social media," I said, raising a hand from the floor.
"What's that?" Johnny asked, frowning.
"Forget it, man," I replied, too tired to explain 21st-century basics.
Later That Day – Apartment Complex Fountain
The water sounded soft as Miguel and I sat on the edge of the fountain, eating something and talking about music.
"Hey, what do you listen to the most?" Miguel asked.
"Depends. When I want to think: old-school rap. When I want to train: metal. When I don't want to think at all: Nirvana," I said, biting into a protein bar.
"I'm more into classic reggaeton. The old-school kind, the real deal," said Miguel with a smile, shrugging.
We sat in silence for a moment, watching the water move with the wind.
"Hey… are you going to the Halloween dance?" he asked, bringing it up like it was nothing.
"I guess. I've got nothing better to do."
"What are you dressing up as?"
"Ghostface. Classic, cheap, comfy, and stylish," I replied like it was already decided.
"I wanted to go as Deadpool… but the costume's expensive, and I don't want my mom to spend money. She and my yaya are making me a homemade one," Miguel said, with a shy smile.
"Perfect," I replied.
We both let out a genuine laugh.
Next Day – Lunchtime, Cafeteria
After half our classes, we walked into the cafeteria. Everything was relatively calm. Miguel, Dimitri, and Eli were already seated when we arrived.
"What's up, guys?" I greeted, giving Eli and Dimitri a light pat on the back.
"All good," replied Dimitri, returning the greeting.
Just then, a teacher stepped onto a small improvised platform near the entrance, asking for attention with a voice that sounded more out of duty than conviction.
"Guys, I want to talk to you for a moment about cyberbullying. It's not funny. A few days ago, a mother called me because her son cried every night over the messages he was getting. That's not okay," she said seriously, while most students barely looked up from their phones.
A murmur swept across the room. Some laughed. Others completely ignored her.
"You should join Cobra Kai, Eli," Miguel said in a low voice. "My sensei can teach you."
"You heard him, Eli. A little karate, and we'll get rid of all the people who bully us," added Dimitri, with his usual sarcasm.
Eli looked down, uncomfortable. He touched his lip discreetly, trying not to draw attention.
I leaned toward him, serious.
"Look, Eli. If you want them to stop messing with you, you have to fight back. I'm not saying you have to win. I'm saying that when you have that bastard in front of you, hit him. Even if it's just once."
Eli looked at me, surprised. But said nothing.
"It doesn't matter if you win or lose. What matters is he'll know you're not afraid. Nobody messes with someone who defends themselves. And now, with what that teacher just did, she accidentally put a bigger target on your back—and on others too."
Silence. Just my words and the sound of trays in the background.
"Think about it, man," I said, looking him straight in the eyes.
Reseda High – After Lunch
After everything that happened in the cafeteria, we went back to class. The teacher's talk about cyberbullying had left a strange echo in the air. Some ignored it, others mocked it, but I knew Eli had felt it in his chest. Deep inside. I saw it on his face.
While the teacher was lecturing about 20th-century wars, I had other plans.
I slid my phone under the desk and got to work. I created an Instagram account for the dojo: @CobraKaiReseda. Then another on Facebook, and later TikTok, just in case. I posted the first photo: the dojo entrance, with the cobra sign glowing under the sun. I added a good contrast filter, adjusted the levels, and used a simple caption:
"Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy. Local dojo in Reseda. Open classes. First training free. #CobraKai #KarateReseda"
I also added the dojo's exact location on Google Maps and Johnny's number (hoping he wouldn't yell when calls started coming in). I even put in fake schedules for now to give a sense of structure.
While setting up the profiles, I had a better idea: a website. Something simple but functional. A place to book training sessions, read a bit about what Cobra Kai is, and most importantly, have a student login. Something that looked serious. Professional. Not like a garage with mats.
I messaged Miguel:
Hey, man. Can you make a page for the dojo? Something simple. Name, logo, address. It'd be cool to have a student login too. Like with a password.
A couple of minutes passed. Miguel replied:
Yeah, give me a sec. I've got a heavy class right now, but I'll get on it when I get home.
Perfect. Send me the link when you're done. I'll plug it into the socials.
I put the phone away just as the teacher walked down the aisle. I opened my notebook and pretended to take notes, while actually thinking about how we could record training videos for TikTok or YouTube. The dojo needed that: visibility.
Johnny was good. Seriously. He just needed a push into the present.
6:40 PM — Apartment Complex Fountain
After class, I met up with Miguel at the fountain as usual. He was already on his laptop, sitting like he was about to submit a thesis. Fingers flying over the keyboard, face full of focus.
"So?" I asked, dropping my backpack next to me.
"I'm working on the login. I've already got the basic site design. I used a clean template, black background, gold letters. Just like the dojo logo."
"And does it work?"
"Of course. Look," he said, turning the screen. "You can already see schedules, the address, a contact button, and the 'register' section. It's simple, but it looks pro."
"Perfect. Send me the link."
Miguel copied it and sent it to my phone. While he packed up, I updated each social media bio with the direct link to the site. In less than an hour, @CobraKaiReseda had three posts, was following local gyms, and had started getting its first likes.
"This is getting serious," Miguel said, taking a sip from his water bottle.
"Of course it is. We're putting that dojo on the map."
"You think Johnny knows about this?"
"Johnny doesn't even know what a password is. So no, but he's still gonna appreciate it," I said, smiling.
We stayed there a little longer, watching the sun go down and the fountain's monotonous sound continue. Sometimes you don't need to talk. Just be.
8:00 PM — Cobra Kai Dojo
That night, we went to the dojo as usual. Johnny was inside, taping a punching bag with black duct tape and drinking a beer. When he saw me, he looked up.
"What are you guys doing?"
"We've got good news," I said, opening Instagram on my phone. "Look."
Johnny approached with suspicion.
"What's that?"
"Social media. Website. Google Maps location. It's all online now. Anyone looking for 'karate in Reseda' will find this. They can see photos, contact you, even book a class."
Johnny looked at the screen like it was an alien device.
"And that works?"
"Way more than you think."
Miguel walked over with his phone too.
"We already got hits on the website, and a couple of messages asking about class times."
Johnny let out a laugh.
"Damn… and you two did all that?"
"Yes, sensei," said Miguel, with a proud smile.
Johnny took a sip of his beer, thoughtful. Then looked at both of us with that "I just got a dumb idea" face.
"Alright. Since you did all that… you earned yourselves a special training."
"Special training?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I want you at the school. At midnight," Johnny said like it was totally normal.
"Midnight!? Come on, man… I want a good night's sleep," I complained, scratching my head in frustration.
"No excuses, Río. I want you there, sharp at twelve. You too, Miguel. Let's see how you sneak out of your house," he added, smirking.
Miguel just sighed. I rolled my eyes.
"Fine, fine… see you there," I said, turning around and putting on my leather jacket.
I left the dojo, got on my bike, and revved it hard. That night, I wasn't going straight home. I needed to clear my head.
I rode around Reseda for a while, aimlessly, going full speed. The city lights passed by like blurry lines. I passed the old plaza, the park, even a spot where they sold tacos at midnight. I didn't stop.
Sometimes, I just needed that: speed, wind in my face, noise in my ears. It was the only way I felt in control of something.
When the clock on the dash read 11:45 PM, I turned toward the school. The night was quiet. The kind of quiet that weighs. The kind that makes you feel like something big is about to happen.
When I arrived at the parking lot, my phone buzzed. Message from Miguel:
"We're at the pool. Hurry."
I parked the bike in the darkest corner and crossed the campus quickly. The moon reflected on the pavement puddles, and the turned-off lights made everything look more secret than it really was.
When I got to the pool, the first thing I saw was Johnny tying Miguel's hands with a cable.
"What the hell…?" I whispered, but didn't say anything. I just watched.
"Today," Johnny said firmly, "you'll learn to use your legs. They'll become your second arms. You're going to learn to use them like never before."
He turned to me.
"Río, you're next."
—Yes, sensei —I replied, taking off my jacket and boots as I walked in.
—You already know how to fight —Johnny said, looking at me seriously—, but that doesn't matter. Here, everyone is equal. You're part of the dojo. You're Cobra Kai, just like Miguel.
He finished tying my hands. The ropes were firm but not too tight.
—What are you waiting for? —he said, and pushed Miguel into the water without hesitation.
Splash!
—Come on, Miguel! Don't drown! Use your legs! —Johnny shouted.
—Let's go, Río! You go to the bottom of the pool and come back up. Now! —he ordered.
I jumped into the water without thinking. The cold hit my bones. My hands tied, my legs searching for momentum. I touched the bottom with my feet, then pushed toward the surface.
I came out and took a breath. Breathing had never felt so valuable.
—You got this, Miguel! —Johnny shouted from the edge—. That's it, with balls!
Miguel kicked with effort. He was about to go under when Johnny grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up.
—I can't, sensei! —Miguel gasped, exhausted.
—Don't be a little girl! That word doesn't exist in Cobra Kai! —Johnny yelled furiously—. Get back in there!
He shoved him back into the water without hesitation.
—You too, Río! Down and back! Show him how it's done! —Johnny ordered, clapping like crazy—. That's it, kid!
Again and again, we went down. Came back up. Kicked like mad. Our bodies trembled, but there was no turning back.
—I'm dying, sensei! —Miguel shouted when he managed to get his head out for a second.
—Cobra Kai never dies! —Johnny shouted—. You're part of Cobra Kai!
He came to the edge, looked at us with burning eyes.
—Repeat after me —Johnny said in a deep voice—: Cobra Kai never dies.
—Cobra Kai never dies! —we both shouted, barely with strength.
—Louder, sissies!
—COBRA KAI NEVER DIES! —we screamed in unison, with the last breath we had.
The shout bounced off the walls. It felt like an explosion. A statement.
Silence… and then, a voice on the other side of the pool.
—Hey!? Who's there!?
Lights turned on in the distance. A door opened.
—Time to go —Johnny said, already grabbing the towels in a hurry—. Let's go, quick!
—Come on, Río! —he shouted while throwing me my boots.
—I'm coming! —I replied, getting out of the water as fast as I could, grabbing the jacket, the gloves, and running after them with my heart pumping adrenaline.
After the training, we went back to the apartments. Each one went straight to their home. I entered mine with only one thought in mind—sleep.
The next day was the big event. The famous Halloween dance at school. And even though school parties didn't excite me much, Miguel insisted and we were already in on the plan.
After class, we went to the dojo as usual. Johnny made us train an extra hour. He said "pain doesn't take vacations."
While Miguel practiced punches on the dummy, I was prepping some wooden boards, cut in half, ready for him to break with a clean kick, just like Johnny asked me.
—Alright, Miguel? You warmed up? —Johnny asked.
—Yes, sensei! —Miguel shouted with enthusiasm.
—Río, go hit the bag and let it all out for a while —Johnny told me, without looking at me.
—Yes, sensei —I replied, and went straight to the old punching bag hanging at the back of the dojo.
The next 60 minutes were all hits, sweat, heavy breathing, and grunts between reps. Cobra Kai didn't understand parties or costumes.
When we finished, Johnny came over with a beer in hand.
—Alright, that's it for today. Heard tonight's the dance… what are you guys wearing?
—Ghostface —I answered, wiping the sweat off with a towel—. Classic, comfortable, no fuss.
Miguel, for his part, got up and nervously showed his costume: a red sheet as a cape and a homemade mask that didn't look like any known character.
—My mom and my yaya helped me with this. At first, I was going to be Deadpool… then Spiderman… and in the end, I think it came out as a generic hero.
Johnny looked at him like he'd just insulted the universe of costumes.
—What the hell are you supposed to be?
Miguel shrugged.
—A wannabe superhero, sensei.
Johnny scoffed, patted him on the shoulder, and walked to the back of the dojo.
—Man… that's sad. Take that off, I've got an old costume somewhere. I'll help you.
I laughed, walked over to get my backpack, and slung my jacket over my shoulder.
—Alright, I'm out. I want to shower before the dance. Not showing up smelling like the dojo.
—Good. Have fun, but don't be an idiot —Johnny said, not turning around.
—Never, sensei —I replied, leaving the place.
One hour later – Apartments, 7:45 PM
I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, with nearly freezing water. I needed it. Came out, dried off, and opened the closet. I didn't want to die of heat that night, so I went with something practical.
Black shorts, old Converse, and a black tank top. Over it, the costume: a black hooded cloak, and of course, the classic white Ghostface mask. Just enough.
Before leaving, I looked at myself in the mirror for a second. Just to remind myself that none of this was real. Just one night. Just a mask—but when someone puts on a mask, they unleash their second self.
I put the helmet in my backpack, slung the jacket over my shoulder in case it got chilly, and left the apartment.
The night was alive. Cars passing, kids running around in costumes, music from neighboring apartments. But I was on a different frequency.
I reached my bike. My black Ducati with golden accents looked even more menacing under the orange light of the street lamps. I put the helmet over the mask, adjusted it calmly, and started the engine.
Vroooom.
The roar cut through the air. That was my entrance.
I sped through the streets of Reseda straight toward the school, leaving a trail of lights behind. The wind hit the costume, the hood flapped. At that speed, it looked like Ghostface was coming for his victim.
8:10 PM – School Parking Lot
I arrived and parked near the main entrance. Music was already blasting from inside. Colored lights, laughter, and the echo of hundreds of shoes moving on the dance floor. Kids in costumes filled the entrance: zombies, superheroes, vampires, and other things I couldn't even identify.
I took off the helmet, stuffed it in the backpack, and adjusted the mask. Ran a hand over the hood. Everything was ready.
I took a deep breath.
—Showtime —I murmured.
And with calm steps, I headed toward the gym entrance.
As soon as I walked in, between flashing lights and electronic music bouncing off the walls, I saw them from afar: Dimitri and Eli, standing on the other side of the entrance, like they didn't know what to do with their hands or their lives.
I walked over.
—What's up? What are you guys dressed as? Let me guess… Eli's the nurse from Striptease and Dimitri… a mountain monk?
—I'm not a monk! —Dimitri said, slightly offended—. I'm a necromancer. I raise the dead! Can't believe you don't see it.
—I… I'm a plastic surgeon —Eli muttered, with that low voice that sounded like an apology for existing.
—Well, I'm Ghostface —I said, raising my arms to show the full costume—. Classic, effective, no fuss.
—And Miguel? Is he here yet? —I asked, looking around.
—Haven't seen him —Dimitri replied.
—Speak of the devil… —I pointed toward the gym entrance.
Miguel had just walked in. He was wearing a skeleton costume, complete with Day of the Dead face paint. He looked pretty good, considering Johnny have the costume.
—What's up, guys? —he greeted, fist-bumping everyone—. Cool costumes, eh?
The party was just getting started, but the energy was good already. Loud music, spinning lights, kids dancing off beat, and others trying to look cool against the walls.
We headed straight for the punch. Nothing alcoholic, I think.
—So what? You guys gonna stand here all night like statues? —I asked while pouring a cup.
—See those three elves over there? —Miguel pointed, puffing out his chest—. We're going for them. Tonight… is ours!
—Go get 'em, tiger. Don't let fear stop you —I said, pushing them with my gaze.
—I think I need the bathroom —Dimitri said, nervous.
—Yeah, me too… —Eli murmured.
—I drank too much punch —Miguel added, justifying himself before following them.
I laughed dryly.
—Wow, total chickens —I said as I set my cup on the table.
The dance floor wasn't totally packed yet, but the atmosphere was heating up. The DJ dropped the generic reggaeton and played a banger:
"X Gon' Give It to Ya" by DMX.
The beat dropped hard. Raw. Perfect.
I walked to the center without hesitation. The Ghostface costume covered me completely. No one knew who I was, and that… that was the best part.
With the mask on, I had no name. No story.
I wasn't the new kid. I wasn't the one who buried his mother.
I wasn't the one with secrets or who lived alone.
I was just a shadow with rhythm.
And that gave me freedom.
I started moving with the beat. Slowly at first. Nodding my head. Letting the rhythm rise through my legs, settle in my shoulders, extend to my arms. Every bass hit was a jolt.
I spun, dropped to the floor. A couple of breakdance steps, the basic ones but done right. People started to make space. Some clapped, others filmed with their phones. The cheers grew with every move.
I stood up with a quick spin and, without thinking, walked over to a girl standing at the edge of the floor. Dressed as a little devil, with black wings and a curious smile.
I took her hand without saying a word. Just pulled her with rhythm to the center.
She didn't resist. She followed with a smile. We danced for a few seconds, spinning her, hitting steps with force. I let her go in a turn, softly, and before she could say anything, I was already walking toward another.
A girl dressed as Harley Quinn. I extended my hand. She hesitated, but I took it anyway. We danced, with more energy, more aggression, faster. I felt the sweat on my back, but also the euphoria. The whole damn gym was screaming.
There, with the mask on, I was invincible.
Miguel, Dimitri, and Eli watched from the punch table, stunned.
—Is that Río? —Dimitri asked.
—Yeah, man… but like, beast mode activated —Miguel said, nodding with a smile.
I returned to the center of the floor, hit a final move with the DMX beat, and raised my arms. The place exploded in cheers.
I didn't do it for fame.
I did it because, for the first time in a long time, I felt alive.
And no one, not even me, could stop that.
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