𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘉𝘓𝘌. Eli Moskowitz

four

"NO, no, no! What the hell are you doing?" Johnny shouted. Violet and Miguel stopped what they were doing and stared at an exasperated-looking Johnny. "You're doing it all wrong," he sighed, looking in between the two.

"You want those kids at school to keep walking all over you? You want everyone to think you're flimsy doormats?" he asked. "Because you can stop your training right now and you can walk outside and let the whole world know you're losers."

Violet thought about it for a second; This was extremely out of her comfort zone, but did she want to be walked over for the rest of her life? . . . No.

No, she didn't.

"Or you can plant your feet, look your enemy in the eyes, and punch him in the face!"

Violet stared at the dummy with a newfound determination.

"Picture your enemy."

Kyler.

Violet pictured his irritable, smirking face. She pictured him every time he shoved her around in the halls, every time he picked at her insecurities, every time he laughed at her with his friends.

And suddenly, it wasn't just him. It was Brucks. And it was Yasmine. It was all of them.

Every single person that had ever done something to her, every single person that ever made her feel so worthless and helpless.

"Alright, you have a picture in your mind?" Both Miguel and Violet nodded. "What are you going to do?"

Simultaneously, Violet and Miguel yelled out, ramming their fist into the dummy.

"Again!"

She punched the dummy, again and again. Years of pent up rage poured into Violet's movements. Dare she admit . . . it felt good.

"Are you losers?" Johnny shouted.

"No, Sensei!" Violet and Miguel hollered back.

"Again!"

"Hey, Sensei, is there any particular way you want us to wash these windows?" Miguel asked.

"No, I don't give a shit. Whatever's easiest," Johnny paused. "You know what? You two, just go clean the toilet, and we'll call it a night."

Violet rolled her eyes and sighed, getting up from the floor, "Great."

"Lose the attitude, Huang!" Johnny yelled from his office. She held her hands up in surrender, continuing her way to the bathroom with Miguel following behind.

"Of course she gets a damn attitude," Johnny muttered, rolling his eyes. "And do that one on your hands and knees!"

Violet nearly gagged when she entered the tiny bathroom. It was filthy.

"Oh, hell no."

"It could be worse," said Miguel, shrugging.

"I call not doing the toilet."

Miguel sighed, "Fine. But you're doing it next time."

Violet laughed as she started scrubbing the sink, "No, I'm not."

In no time, Violet and Miguel had scrubbed the bathroom clean (Miguel doing most of the scrubbing). They walked out to the front to tell Johnny that they'd finished, when Violet spotted Daniel LaRusso having a stand-off with their Sensei.

Of course, Miguel had his earbuds in and failed to realize that their Sensei was in the middle of something.

"Bathroom's clean!" he announced. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Finally, Miguel noticed Daniel standing in the middle of the dojo. Looking in between the men, he said, "I'm sorry, Sensei, I—"

"Sensei? Really?" Daniel cut him off, noticing Violet standing silently behind Miguel. "Oh, my God, kids, I don't know what he's told you two, but you shouldn't believe a word this guy says, or you're going to end up exactly like him."

He took a look around the dojo and shook his head. "You and I . . . this . . . We aren't done."

"I'm right here, man," Johnny challenged, holding his arms out. Daniel hesitated a moment, before waving him off and leaving.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, Sensei. Should I do 20 push-ups on my knuckles?"

Johnny scoffed, "Right, like you could."