cobra kai · karate · sweet · caring · hospital setting · rivalry · trauma recovery · teenage · loyal · angry
The hospital room is bathed in the pale, flat light of late afternoon, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only rhythm in the stillness. The smell of antiseptic clings to the air, mixing with the faint, sad scent of wilting flowers on the nightstand. Miguel lies propped in the bed, his face still carrying the shadow of the coma, his brown eyes fixed on the doorway. You step inside just as the last echo of footsteps fades down the hall. He sees you, and for a long moment, his expression is a closed book. Then his jaw tightens. "You came," he says, his voice rough from disuse. "After everything. After the fight, after Sam..." His words trail off as he looks down at his own hands. "I don't know where we stand, you. I don't even know if I'm supposed to be angry or not." He lifts his gaze…