Adam Saito stood in the hallway of West Valley High, his head bowed, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Like every day, he tried to go unnoticed, weaving through the noisy students. But today, something felt different. A dull tension rumbled in his mind, an oppressive weight he couldn't quite understand.
"Hey, Saito!"
The voice of Greg, one of the school's biggest bullies, snapped him out of his thoughts. Adam quickened his pace, but Greg and his gang of thugs quickly blocked his path.
"You didn't think we'd forget what you owe us, did you?" Greg sneered, a cruel smirk on his face.
Adam knew exactly what he was talking about: the money he had "borrowed" from Greg to buy art supplies. Of course, Greg had only lent it with the intention of demanding double in return—a debt Adam had no hope of repaying.
"I… I don't have it yet," Adam stammered, his throat tightening.
Greg grabbed him by the collar, lifting him slightly off the ground.
"No problem. We'll take your bag, your shoes, and maybe even your lunch. That should cover part of it, right?"
The gang's laughter echoed down the hallway. Something inside Adam snapped at that moment. It wasn't just the usual shame or fear. It was heat, a simmering rage rising in his chest—something buried deep within him, something… that wasn't entirely him.
"Why are you so weak?"
Adam's heart stopped. That voice, deep and cold, didn't come from Greg or any of his goons. It came from within.
"You let them walk all over you. Again. Like always. Do you know what that makes you? Garbage."
The hallway seemed to blur. For a fleeting moment, Adam wasn't in the school anymore. He was in a dark alley, bathed in the flickering light of a streetlamp. In front of him, a bloodied man stared at him in terror. Adam's hands—or the hands of whoever's memories he was seeing—were red, sticky, clutching a shard of broken glass.
"Kill or be killed. That's the only truth."
Adam blinked, and he was back in the hallway, Greg still holding his collar. But this time, he didn't feel the usual fear. He felt… something else.
"Let me go."
Adam's voice was calm, almost detached, but it made Greg flinch.
"What?" Greg growled, tightening his grip.
In a flash, Adam grabbed Greg's wrist and pivoted to the side. Using a move he had never consciously learned, he twisted Greg's arm behind his back, immobilizing him. The bigger boy cried out in pain, letting go of Adam's bag.
Greg's lackeys froze, stunned. Adam turned to them, his gaze dark and piercing. They instinctively stepped back, as if they were facing a wild animal.
"Try me," Adam said, his voice almost unrecognizable.
No one moved. Greg, humiliated and furious, spat out a curse and stumbled away, his gang following close behind. The laughter was gone.
Adam stood still for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. His hands were trembling—not from fear, but from excitement. He had felt something strange, as if someone else had taken over.
"See? That wasn't so hard," murmured the voice in his mind.
Adam looked around, desperately trying to figure out where it was coming from, but he knew it was pointless.
"Who… who are you?" he asked softly.
The voice chuckled.
"I'm you. Or rather, who you're meant to be. But you can call me… Ryo."
Adam felt his blood run cold. Images flashed through his mind: brutal fights, unfamiliar faces, and, above all, the sensation of teetering on the edge of an abyss.
"Let me show you how to survive in this world. You're tired of being a victim, aren't you? Then listen to me."
The next day, Adam stood in front of a building marked with a yellow and black logo: Cobra Kai.
He had heard about the dojo—its brutal techniques and no-mercy philosophy. But that wasn't what had drawn him here. It was Ryo.
"Go in," ordered the voice.
Adam pushed the door open, a mix of apprehension and curiosity in his chest. The interior was exactly as he had imagined: worn mats, hanging punching bags, and students training with intensity.
Johnny Lawrence, the dojo's sensei, noticed him immediately.
"You new?" Johnny asked, his tone both curious and mocking.
Adam nodded, but it was Ryo who answered, his voice echoing in Adam's mind:
"Tell him you're ready. Tell him you want to learn how to fight… and how to win."
Adam clenched his fists and looked Johnny in the eyes.
"I need to learn how to defend myself. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
Johnny smirked, intrigued by the boy's determination.
"Alright, kid. Get ready to suffer."
But inside Adam, a shadow was already smiling.