CHAPTER 18: FINAL PREPARATIONS
POV: Ivyn Mikaelson
Seven days to All Valley. The dojo's energy is electric with anticipation and anxiety.
Johnny runs final technical sessions. No new learning. Just refinement and mental preparation. Students visualize matches. Study opponent footage. Obsess over weight classes.
I need to cut six pounds to make my weight class optimal.
The process is miserable.
Dehydration. Sauna suit during training. Minimal food. The particular suffering athletes endure for competitive advantage.
[WEIGHT CUTTING PROTOCOL: ACTIVE]
[Target: -6 pounds]
[Current Penalty: -15% all physical stats]
[Fatigue: Critical]
[Duration: 4 days]
Day one, I'm hungry but functional. Day two, everything hurts. Day three, I can barely think straight.
Sam finds me in the library, looking like death.
"Is this worth it? You look like hell."
"Every advantage matters." My voice is rough. "I'm not the most talented. So I optimize everything I can control."
She doesn't understand. How could she? But she brings me electrolytes and sits with me while I study, and that's enough.
Weigh-in day. I step on the scale in just shorts. 143 pounds. Exactly where I need to be.
[WEIGHT CLASS: ACHIEVED]
[Recovery protocols: ACTIVE]
[Stat penalties: Removed in 24 hours]
The relief is physical. I can eat now. Rehydrate. Let my body remember what normal feels like.
Night before the tournament, Johnny gathers all competing students. The dojo feels sacred in the dim light. Twenty students. All nervous. All ready.
"Tomorrow, you represent Cobra Kai." Johnny's voice carries weight. "That means something. It means you're fighters, not quitters. When you get hit, you hit back harder."
Familiar rhetoric. Inspiring and problematic.
"I don't care if you win every match. I care that you leave everything on the mat. Show the Valley we're not a joke."
Then something unexpected.
"And win or lose, you're my students. That doesn't change based on medals."
The vulnerability surprises everyone. The team moment feels genuine.
Afterward, Miguel and I exchange brief nods. Not forgiveness. But acknowledgment we're still teammates even if the friendship is broken.
[DOJO UNITY: 60 → 70]
[Temporary boost from pre-tournament solidarity]
Sam comes to my apartment that night. We sit on my couch surrounded by my humble life.
"I'm going to be there tomorrow. Watching you. Proud of you regardless of outcome."
The simple gift of her presence overwhelms me.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you."
"You saw me. Really saw me. Not as Daniel LaRusso's daughter or as rebellion or as status. Just me."
She's right. That's what I did. Saw her for who she actually is.
"I'm terrified I'll fail." The confession comes out raw. "That all this training, all these sacrifices, won't be enough."
Sam kisses me gently. "Then you fail having tried everything. That's not actually failure."
We hold each other. She stays until midnight. When she leaves, I sit alone reviewing everything one last time.
[FINAL TOURNAMENT STATUS:]
[Combat XP: 20,500]
[Combat Rating: 52/100]
[Master Level Techniques: 7]
[Strength: 52/100]
[Speed: 56/100]
[Endurance: 60/100]
[Balance: 56/100]
[Tactical Mind: 78/100]
[Focus: 72/100]
[Composure: 65/100]
[Willpower: 90/100]
[Hybrid Fighting Style: 35% Developed]
[QUEST ACTIVE: ALL VALLEY TOURNAMENT]
[Objectives:]
[1. Place Top 4 minimum]
[2. Prevent serious injuries]
[3. Maintain relationships where possible]
[Difficulty: EXTREME]
I complete my Daily Quest out of superstition. Fifty pushups. Fifty squats. Light stretching. Kata in the parking lot under streetlights one final time.
Each movement a prayer to a universe that doesn't answer.
"Let me be strong enough. Smart enough. Let me hold all these pieces together just a little longer."
Tournament morning arrives with California sunshine and existential weight.
I eat carefully planned breakfast. Dress in my gi. Black belt Johnny gave me last week. Everything feels surreal.
The System is silent. Offering no predictions.
Because this is the moment where foreknowledge meets uncontrollable reality and only my actual ability matters.
I drive to the arena. Park. Sit in my car for five minutes gathering myself.
"Six months of preparation. Hundreds of hours of training. Thousands of repetitions. All for today."
"Don't fuck this up."
I step out of the car.
Time to find out if I'm ready.
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