"Hey, Hawk! Wait up!"

Hawk slowed down at the sound of his name, turning around in the hallway to see Miguel rushing to catch up to him. "Hey, man," he greeted him. "How was Trig?"

"Sucked, but what else is new?" answered Miguel, slowing down when he reached Hawk's side. Pushing aside the small talk, he cut to the chase. "Hey, before we head to lunch, I just wanted to say, sorry things have been kinda weird lately between us."

Hawk shrugged, but his discomfort was transparent. "Have they? Hadn't noticed." Even with his smile, the way his eyes couldn't help but dart gave away his unease. More sincerely, he muttered, "Sorry for making things weird. Are we cool?"

Miguel grinned and reached behind him to give him a couple of reassuring pats on his back. "Definitely cool." The weekend had given him plenty of time to stop overthinking things so much and understand that his mother was right and nothing was ruined between him and Hawk. After all, their friendship had survived so much worse. And he would have a hundred-times rather had Hawk confess romantic feelings for him than exact unasked-for revenge on his behalf like he had against Miyagi-Do.

His reassurance perked Hawk up and now his smile looked more genuine.

"Now come on, let's grab some lunch," said Miguel, leading them down the rest of the hallway and into the cafeteria. And as soon as the duo stepped through the doors, they spotted one of their teammates getting out of the lunch line.

Nathaniel was trying to balance walking with his food tray close to his chest with one hand while holding his phone up to his face with the other. Not paying attention, he didn't notice he was passing by the Cobra Kai table on his way towards the one Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang usually claimed. And he missed Kyler shooting his foot out at the last moment to trip him.

Nate fell to the floor with a splat, landing right on his tray, earning an eruption of laughter from Kyler and his crew. "Damn!" snickered Kyler. "Little nerd just can't watch where he's walking."

Over by the door, Miguel's hands clenched into fists. He swore he could feel his blood pressure rising. "This asshole again," he grumbled, rushing immediately to Nate's side, Hawk right behind him. Nate was on his knees, trying to wipe off meatloaf and mashed potatoes from his shirt. Miguel didn't hesitate to get between him and his rival, declaring, "I'm getting sick of this shit, Kyler! Lowered yourself to picking on freshmen, huh? Pathetic. But then, that's what you've always been, haven't you?"

Doug, Big Red, and Edwin glanced around the cafeteria, probably checking to see if Miguel's firm voice had attracted the attention of any teachers. And for a second, Miguel thought about going to grab one, before remembering there was no point.

Besides, there was a small part of him that was as thrilled by this confrontation as he was tired of Kyler's persistent refusal to mind his own business.

Kyler stood up from his chair, rising to his full height imposingly. "You wanna talk about pathetic, Rhea?" he retorted, crossing his arms. "Let's talk about how even though those doctors might've been able to make you walk again, you and I both know you're never gonna be what you were. Heh, a champ? Bitch, please. Glad you left us your trophy back at Cobra Kai. It should be where the real champs are at." He paused a second, looking down to the floor at Nate. "Really, it's pretty fitting if you ask me that you love the company of pussies and rejects so much these days. You must feel right at home."

From the corner of his vision, Miguel saw Hawk take a step forward, which made the other Cobras sit up straight in their chairs. Miguel raised a hand to stop his friend. He wanted Kyler for himself.

Meeting Kyler's glare, Miguel remembered the previous year, the last time they'd confronted each other in the cafeteria. Thinking back on it made his heart thunder in his ribcage, it made his blood boil to remember the absolute smackdown he'd delivered on Kyler and his old crew then for how they'd treated not just him, but his friends, too. The rush. The excitement. Miguel remembered how it had felt like to be a winner for the first time.

I'm ready for your lame-ass karate this time.

It's not lame-ass karate. It's Cobra Kai.

Some things never changed, but others were so much more different now. Things were more complicated, greyer, no longer black words on a white wall. Now life wasn't as simple as Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy. Now Kyler was wearing the Cobra Kai colors, fighting for the Cobra Kai cred. And it made Miguel's chest ache to be reminded of that once more. Even if he smashed a tray against Kyler's face again, it wouldn't change that reality.

If only Robby hadn't kicked him off the balcony….

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat, letting his fists uncurl by his sides as he felt a phantom chill crawl up his spine. His jaw clenched tight and his eyebrows knitted to the bridge of his nose, but the upset storm churning inside him knew he could not get the payback he wanted right now.

When was he going to be able to protect his friends from people like Kyler again, before things escalated to where they did at Sam's house last Christmas? Would he really have to wait all the way until the All-Valley Tournament? Why? Because Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso agreed to Sensei Kreese's truce?

Standing beside Miguel, Hawk stared at him. He kept waiting for Miguel to give the signal, any signal, that suggested they would shut Kyler up then and there. But instead, he watched as his friend's shoulders slumped, watched as Miguel turned around to help Nate, earning the derisive chortles of Kyler, who felt he once again won their verbal spar. And it killed Hawk to see the fight leave Miguel like that.

While Kyler sat back down with the Cobras, Hawk's features pinched in deep thought as he looked down at his teammates when Miguel retrieved some extra napkins for Nate and picked up his spoiled tray for him. The three of them made their way to the nearest tray-return station and trashcan.

Seeing the injured look on Miguel's face, Hawk assured him, "Hey, sometimes you gotta lose a battle to win a war, right? If you punched that asshole's face right here, you probably would've gotten us all sent to the principal's office. Kyler's a bitch like that."

"Like you're any better than he is," Nate retorted, glaring harshly at Hawk in-between wiping the mashed potatoes from his shirt with the napkins. "Just a few months ago, you were exactly like him, picking fights with all of us here, knowing you could weasel your way out of any trouble with the teachers. It's what they taught you assholes at Cobra Kai, isn't it?"

Setting the tray down at the station, Miguel winced at the blunt way the younger boy said that. "Listen, Nate—"

But Hawk beat him to the punch, putting a hand on Miguel's shoulder. "No, Nate's right," he said, sounding neither self-pitying nor proud of that; he simply agreed. "But my question is, do you wanna keep talking about what happened in the past, or do you wanna help me give Kyler some payback now?"

Both Miguel and Nate stared wide-eyed at him.

Miguel's breath, in particular, started picking up at what Hawk might be hinting at. "We can't make the first move," he reminded Hawk. "Remember Sensei's new code under Eagle Fang: no striking first."

"Kyler made the first strike when he tripped Nate," retorted Hawk. "As far as I see it, Cobra Kai broke the truce. That gives us all the reason we need to hit back." Miguel may have mentioned Sensei Lawrence's code, but at the moment, Hawk could only hear Sensei Kreese's advice in his ear:

If your mind is agile, so are you. That's the best way to beat your enemy. Not just with brute strength. But you have to fight smart. Do that and you'll always come out on top.

He knew better than to have Sensei Kreese in his head again. But it was still good advice, even if the source of it had been bad. And the thought of turning Sensei Kreese's advice on one of his own Cobras? The mere idea of that made Hawk's fingers twitch with excitement by his sides. He'd warned Kyler to fuck around and find out. Now it was time to make him pay.

Miguel saw the crease in Hawk's brow, the one that suggested he had a plan. And he had a point. Kyler had shown he was willing to be the aggressor, and it was only starting to escalate more and more. How long before he was willing to push it farther and start an actual fight? "You're not gonna suggest anything that would risk getting us expelled, are you?" he asked, hesitant excitement beginning to stir in his chest at the thought of getting payback on Kyler. He hoped Hawk really did have a plan. "No school fights?"

"Nah," replied Hawk. "We're gonna fight smart about this."

"What do you mean?" asked Nate, tossing his messy napkins away. But Hawk could hear from his tone, Nate sounded intrigued by the prospect of what he was offering.

Hawk looked at him, then up to Miguel, and a crooked smirk curled up the side of his face. Gesturing for his two teammates to follow him, he sauntered over to where Mitch was sitting at their typical table.

"There you guys are," said Mitch, opening his carton of chocolate milk as he eyed the three of them. "Thought I was gonna be alone through all of lunch. Sam, Demetri, and Chris said they were heading to the library to—"

Hawk cut him off. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, you want some revenge on Kyler?" He extended his hand in invitation.

Setting down his carton, Mitch beamed immediately and without any hesitation clapped his hand back. "Hell yeah! How are we gonna do it?"

"You still got that bottle of MiraLAX?"

The next day after school, the four of them met under the bleachers in the school gym. The wrestling team was starting to come out of the locker room, each of them stopping by first to drop off their towels and water bottles on the bleacher seats before starting their warm-up laps. Hidden in the safety of the darkness, peeking through a gap in the rows, Miguel saw Kyler set his belongings down, none the wiser that he was being observed. He watched as Kyler unscrewed the cap off his bottle of Powerade and take a chug.

"Kyler, man, what the hell was with you flaking on us yesterday?" asked one of his wrestling buddies, who appeared in the line of sight. "Is this karate shit gonna be eating up all your free time now?"

Miguel heard Kyler reply, "Just until the Tournament in May."

"Alright, but don't let it get in the way of the team," said his friend. "We're not making the finals this year without you."

"Kyler! Jonas!" barked the wrestling coach from somewhere in the gym. "Stop chatting and start running!"

"You got it, Coach!" Kyler called out, setting down his Powerade bottle before he and his friend took off to begin their laps.

Peering through the gap, Miguel's eyes swept back and forth several times, making sure things were clear enough. Once he was satisfied nobody was paying the area any attention, he glanced behind him at Nate, telling him, "Okay, go ahead."

Nate made his way over to the end of the bleachers and snuck out. Miguel had told him to keep as low a profile as possible. And being the youngest and smallest of the group, he'd attract the least attention as he needed to be subtle in maneuvering over to the water bottles, take Kyler's Powerade, and return under the bleaches, all without anyone being suspicious as to why he was there. Since other students were sitting on the bleachers, either watching the wrestlers or merely hanging out, Miguel hoped Nate wouldn't stand out much.

Watching what he could from the gap, he saw Nate come into his vision. Miguel's eyes darted between his teammate and where the wrestlers were finishing their laps and getting started on their stretches, but he caught Nate swiping the bottle in question. The boy stuffed it in his jacket and walked away. Step one accomplished.

In another minute, Nate was dipping back under the bleachers, joining the group again, the grin of victory-achieved spread clear over his face. "Got it," he said, pulling the bottle of Powerade out and presenting it to them like a trophy.

"Alright," declared Hawk, "let Operation: Eagles Do The Shitting begin."

Sitting beside him, unzipping the backpack he was wearing on his chest, Mitch suggested, "I was actually thinking, maybe we should call it Operation: Assblast. Because, technically, Kyler's the one who's gonna be doing—"

"Shhh," Miguel hissed, motioning with his hand for them to keep their voices down. "We don't want the whole gym to know what we're doing here, come on. You got the MiraLAX?"

Mitch nodded, pulling it out of his bag. "Yep, right here. Time to clean the pipes."

An eager grin spread over further up Nate's face, and he rubbed his hands together, looking absolutely thrilled by what they were going to do. "Kyler's not gonna know what hit him."

"Sensei and Mr. LaRusso are always saying we need more team-bonding exercises," joked Miguel, glad to see Nate getting so into it. "I say we found one we can all get behind, don't you?"

Hawk nodded, jutting his chin out at their Miyagi-Do teammate. "Yeah, it's about time Nate sees what Eagle Kai's really made of."

"Eagle Fang," corrected Mitch, twisting the cap off the MiraLAX bottle.

Hawk furrowed his brows. "That's what I said."

"You said Eagle Kai," confirmed Nate. Beside him, Miguel grimaced at Hawk's faux pas but also nodded in agreement with the others.

Hawk rolled his eyes and his shoulders, ignoring the warmth spreading across his cheeks. Between remembering Sensei Kreese's words earlier and Nate reminding him he'd been no better than Kyler at one point, he supposed he'd gotten confused and slipped the names up. "Whatever, you know what I meant."

Taking the open Powerade bottle from Nate, Mitch looked at the laxative in his other hand and read the back of the label. "How much do you think we should put in?" he asked. "Do you think one dose would act fast enough? When my dad takes it, it's usually about thirty-minutes before it kicks in."

"Better make it a double-dose then," suggested Miguel without hesitation. They wanted to be there to see it happen, after all.

"Just pour half the bottle," said Nate, excitement as clear in his voice as the smile was across his face. Beside him, Hawk grinned at his recommendation. Catching that look, Nate shrugged. "It's the only way to be sure."

Nudging him with his elbow, Hawk noted, "Not bad for a Miyagi-Do."

"We don't start fights," explained Nate, "but we sure as fuck will finish them."

Mitch poured the liberal amount of laxative into the drink. Securing the lid on the bottle, Nate took it back from Mitch and shook the Powerade up well. "Alright, the coast is clear, go put it back where you found it," said Miguel, peeking through the gap in the bleachers again.

Nate went out on his second mission to return Kyler's bottle and returned right before the wrestlers ended their warm-ups and were circling around the mats to start their practice matches. Miguel could hear them chatting as several walked by to grab a quick drink and wipe the sweat from their faces. One of them was Kyler.

His rival twisted the lid off his drink and chugged more of it down. Miguel licked his bottom lip, tapping his fingertips where they rested against the bleachers. That's right, he thought to himself. Better stay hydrated. You're gonna need it.

Kyler drank a hearty amount before the coach's whistle dragged him over to the mats. "Now we just wait," announced Miguel to the team, keeping his eyes on Kyler.

The next ten minutes might as well have been ten hours, they dragged on so much. "Do you think we poured enough?" asked Mitch, beginning to sound worried. Miguel was starting to worry, as well.

Until he saw a flicker of discomfort cross Kyler's features, until he saw him clutch his stomach. Then Miguel's breath caught in his throat, and his smile returned to his face. He waited another couple of minutes, watching as Kyler tried shaking it off, looking increasingly disoriented and nauseated.

Then Kyler was calling out, "Sorry, Coach, I'll be right back!"

Suddenly Kyler sprinted to the bathroom. A sharp laugh broke from Miguel first, practically a whoop of victory that had his grin spreading ear to ear, soon followed by the cheers of his teammates surrounding him. "Yes, ha ha!"

The next few minutes of waiting until Kyler emerged from the locker rooms was worth it, seeing the way he gingerly walked out, the hesitancy of not knowing whether or not he was finished yet written all over his face. He didn't make it more than ten steps into the gym before he stopped, mouth twisting as undoubtedly another round of cramps seized him.

"Kyler, what's your problem?" called out the wrestling coach.

Kyler didn't even have a chance to answer. He bolted back into the locker rooms, making the group under the bleachers cheer again. "Round two, dickhead!" laughed Nate while Mitch and Hawk gave each other a high-five.

Miguel thought before that he'd wanted Kyler all to himself when it came to giving him payback. But this? This was better, he decided. "Alright," he said, grinning down at his teammates, "what do you guys say we go check on our buddy and see how he's doing?"

He, Hawk, Mitch, and Nate made their way to the other side of the bleachers, slipping out from under them as nonchalantly as they could manage. Assuming an air of innocence, they strolled by the end of the gym floor, under the basketball baskets, pretending to not notice the wrestling practice going on. Upon entering the locker room, passing by bemused and irritated jocks who were on their way out the exit, they could already hear Kyler from the bathroom. It took all of their combined willpowers to keep their snickering to a minimum while they stood idly by for him to finish.

When Kyler finally stepped out of the stalls and into the locker room, the four of them were waiting for him. Kyler's glare zeroed in on Miguel. "You!" he exclaimed, glowering, taking a threatening step forward. The effect was dampened, however, but how strained and exhausted he looked at that moment; he even had sweat pouring down his forehead, which they all knew hadn't come from his wrestling. Miguel let himself laugh at the thought of how much time in the stall must've taken its toll on Kyler.

"Bruh, you gotta watch out for those cafeteria fish sticks," quipped Mitch, earning more laughter from the group.

Kyler gritted his teeth, clutching a hand to his stomach again. "You guys broke the truce. Now it's gonna be open season on your asses!"

"Actually, you're the one who broke the truce," argued Miguel, crossing his arms over his chest, squaring his shoulders back. "Maybe you wanna go explain that to your Sensei. Be sure not to leave this part out though."

He watched the way his words had their effect on Kyler, how it became clear what he was saying was true. Miguel knew Sensei Kreese wouldn't give a shit about Kyler breaking the truce by tripping Nate, but he also knew Kyler's pride would keep him from running to his Sensei and telling him how Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do got the better of him in a manner like this.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Kyler?" taunted Hawk further. "Snitch like a little pussy?"

Kyler scowled, declaring, "You're fucking dead! You hear me?"

"Everyone heard you," said Nate. Chuckling, he clarified, "In the stalls, I mean. They could all smell you, too." He pinched his nose for emphasis, waving his other hand in front of him to clear the air, making the others snicker again.

Miguel reached into the front pouch of his hoodie and retrieved the object he'd stuffed there earlier. Another gift from Mitch's bag. "I think you'll be needing this now," he said, holding out the bottle of Pepto-Bismol to Kyler, managing as smarmy a grin as he could conjure.

Kyler looked like he'd deck him right there, but then his rival's stomach was rumbling again. Kyler groaned, trying his hardest to mask his discomfort, until finally he had no choice but to turn around and rush back to the stalls. But not before begrudgingly swiping the Pepto bottle from Miguel's hand, making it all worth it.

"I bet Kyler will think twice now before picking on you," said Mitch, nudging Nate's shoulder when the four of them exited the locker room, enjoying another round of laughter.

Nate looked between Mitch and Hawk. "I still think you guys are a couple of goons," he told them, although his lingering smile lessened the impact of his words. "But I'm glad you're goons who are on our side now. And if you ever want to enact another Operation: Assblast on Cobra Kai, count me in."

Hawk spared a glance at Miguel, who raised his eyebrows, as if to say by that look, See?

While Mitch and Nate pulled ahead, talking excitedly about how they were going to explain this mission to their other teammates later at the dojo, Hawk lingered by Miguel. "So, El Serpiente, how's that for fighting smart?" he asked, smug smirk crawling up the side of his face. "Think Sensei would approve?"

Miguel stared at his friend's face. Behind Hawk's self-satisfied smirk, Miguel would have sworn he'd detected a hint of affection, and he wondered how much of this plan was Hawk's way of helping him feel better; of giving him his chance to feel in control again. And the thought of that made Miguel's blood rush. He might have even said he felt downright giddy at that moment, if he had to pick a word for it.

Letting his eyes linger probably a bit too long, still grinning ear to ear, Miguel wrapped his arm warmly around Hawk's shoulders and told him, "Kyler definitely now knows how it feels to be bitten by an Eagle."