So I'm John Lawrence's son

The Cobra Kai dojo was quiet after the afternoon practice, the echo of punching bags still lingering in the air. Jack hung back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his black T-shirt, as the other students filed out in groups, laughing and chatting about the day's moves. He adjusted his denim jacket and glanced down at the mat, where Tory Nichols was still adjusting the belt on her new uniform, her blond hair falling over her shoulders as she strapped on her battered backpack.

Johnny Lawrence had already disappeared into the office, probably to get a beer or yell at some form he didn't understand. Miguel and the others had left together, but Jack was in no hurry. He saw Tory stand up and throw her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave, but something made him speak.

"Hey, Tory," he called, his voice firm but with a hint of hesitation.

She turned, raising an eyebrow, her clear gaze meeting his. "What? Do you owe me something for leaving you alive on the terrace?" she teased, a mocking smile appearing on her lips.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. Just… have you trained before?" 

Tory shrugged, walking over to him and stopping a few feet away. "First day. I heard about this place and decided to see if it was all it's cracked up to be. Why? Are you surprised to see me?"

"A little," Jack admitted, crossing his arms. "You don't look like the type who needs a dojo to be tough."

She laughed, a short, dry sound. "I don't have to. But I want to be more than tough. I want to be unbeatable." She threw her head back, pushing her hair out of her face. "What about you? What brought you here?"

Jack hesitated, the weight of the question pulling him into a place he normally avoided. But there was something about Tory—the way she spoke, direct and blunt, as if she understood the ugly side of life—that made him want to answer. He jerked his chin toward the mat. "Sit down for a second. It's a long story."

Tory raised her eyebrow again, but sat down on the mat floor, crossing her legs and resting her backpack beside her. Jack sat across from her, hands on his knees, staring at the floor for a moment before beginning.

"My mom… she died a few months ago," he said, his voice low but firm. "Before that, my life was a mess. Ever since I was seven, she'd bring different guys home every night. I'd hear it all—the moaning, the fighting, sometimes even the doors slamming as they left. It was hell. A while later, I ran away to the streets of San Diego."

Tory was silent, her eyes fixed on him, without pity or judgment, just listening. "That's harsh," she said finally, her tone neutral but loaded with understanding.

"Yeah," Jack continued, rubbing his hands together as if trying to erase the memories. "I lived on the streets for a while with some friends who taught me how to survive—stealing food, fighting for myself, that kind of thing. After a while she found me. Said she was sick, wanted to settle some scores before she died. I came back out of pity, took care of her until the end. That's when she told me about my father."

Tory tilted her head, interest shining in her eyes. "Who is he?"

Jack took a deep breath, the name heavy on his tongue before it came out. "Johnny Lawrence. The sensei."

Tory blinked in surprise, but didn't let the shock get the better of her. She whistled softly, almost in awe. "Shit, Jack. That's big. Does he know?"

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head. "She gave me a picture of him and an incomplete address in Reseda. I came here to find out who he was before I told anyone else. But yesterday… I heard him talking to Miguel and Eli. Robby Keene is his son. If Robby is my half-brother, and Johnny abandoned him too… what am I to him? Just another mistake he doesn't even remember?"

Tory was quiet for a moment, processing. Then she leaned forward, elbows on knees, and looked him in the eye. "You're not a mistake, Jack. What your mother did, what Johnny did or didn't do… that's not you. You're here, at Cobra Kai, fighting to be someone. That's what matters."

Jack looked at her, feeling the lump in his throat slowly dissolve. "You say it like you understand," he said, almost challenging.

"Because I understand," Tory replied, her tone hardening for a second before softening. "My mother is sick. My little brother depends on me. I work all day, study, and take care of them. I don't have time to get lost in 'what ifs'. I came here to become strong enough to handle it all, to become stronger. You and I… we're not that different."

Jack nodded slowly, her words echoing in his mind. He thought of Martha, of the men in the house, of the solitude of the streets, and now of the dojo—a place where he was beginning to find something he hadn't known he was looking for. "Maybe you're right," he muttered, looking around at a part of the dojo.

Tory lightly slapped his shoulder, breaking the heavy mood. "Of course I do. Now get up. Let's train some moves. You may be the sensei's son, but you're still a weakling, you need to learn a lot. I, for example, can easily defeat you..."

Jack laughed, standing up with her. "You're dreaming, Nichols."

They positioned themselves in the soft part of the dojo to fight, exchanging light blows, the sound of fists slicing the air filling the silence. Tory was fast, precise, and Jack responded with brute force, but he was beginning to mix in the technique Johnny had been teaching. It was like a dialogue without words—two survivors testing each other's limits, finding a rhythm that made sense.

As they trained, Johnny came out of the office, a can of beer in his hand, and stopped when he saw them. He watched for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the familiarity in Jack's movements—something he had seen in himself years ago. "Sullivan…" he muttered to himself, suspicion growing. But he didn't say anything, just took a sip of his beer and went back inside.

The workout ended with the two of them panting, sitting on the mat again. Tory took her water bottle and offered Jack a sip, which he accepted with a nod. "Thank you," he said, but not just for the water.

"You're welcome," she replied, with a crooked smile. "But seriously… what are you going to do about sensei?"

Jack looked into the office, where the light was still on. "I don't know. Maybe I'll tell him. Maybe I won't, I'm still not sure."

Tory nodded, approving of the answer. "Have it your way, Jack. But if you need someone to punch you in the face to wake you up, I'm here."

He laughed, a genuine sound echoing through the empty dojo. "Combined."

The chapter ended with Jack and Tory walking out of the dojo together, the Impala waiting in the parking lot under the dim light of the streetlamps. He looked at her, the girl from the terrace who was now something more—a friend, a mirror, perhaps. And for the first time in a long time, Jack felt that he wasn't as alone as he had thought.