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✰ FIND A REPLACEMENT ✰
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Luciana, still sobbing, writhed in pain-until she turned her head.

Her vision blurred, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. And then she saw him.

Kwon's lifeless gaze met hers, empty and still.

Something inside her shattered.

Her breathing slowed, the pain in her body becoming distant, almost numb. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and weak.

"CUT THE FEED!"

ONE MONTH LATER

A month had passed since the incident at the Sekai Taikai, but for Luciana, time felt frozen.

She sat slouched on the couch in her grandmother's small but cozy home, the soft plush of the cushions cradling her tired body. Her head rested against the armrest, her eyes dull and lifeless as she stared at the television. The familiar sounds of a Spanish telenovela filled the room, dramatic music and impassioned dialogue playing on the screen. But Luciana barely registered any of it.

Her right leg was stretched out on the coffee table, wrapped in a thick, bulky cast that extended from her foot to just above her knee. Metal rods protruded from it, a painful reminder of how shattered her ankle had been. It would be months before she could walk again—six, to be exact. Six months of oversized hoodies and shorts, the only clothing that felt comfortable around her injuries.

Her grandmother shuffled in and out of the kitchen, the scent of warm tortillas and simmering spices lingering in the air. The only other sound in the house was the faint hum of the ceiling fan, doing little to ease the heavy silence Luciana carried with her.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Luciana barely moved, only flicking her eyes toward the door as her grandmother made her way to answer it. The old wooden door creaked slightly as it opened, and a warm smile spread across her grandmother's face.

"Santana. ¡Qué lindo verte!" (Santana. How lovely to see you!)

Luciana heard the name and blinked, her tired mind slowly catching up.

Santana stepped inside, offering a small smile as Luciana's grandmother gently urged her in. Her dark hair was now cut short, a sleek bob just brushing her shoulders—different from the long, wavy locks she had always worn before.

Luciana swallowed, her fingers twitching slightly in her lap. It had been weeks since she'd seen anyone outside of her family. And now, Santana stood in her living room, her presence feeling both familiar and foreign all at once.

Her grandmother, ever the gracious host, patted Santana's arm before retreating to the kitchen, giving them space.

Luciana exhaled slowly, forcing herself to sit up a little. "Hey," she mumbled, her voice hoarse from disuse.

Santana took a hesitant step forward, eyes scanning over Luciana—the deep bags under her eyes, the way her face had thinned, the distant look that never seemed to leave her anymore.

"Hey, Luci," Santana said softly, her voice laced with something unspoken.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The telenovela droned on in the background, but all Luciana could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat, slow and heavy.

Santana hesitated, then took a seat beside her, careful not to jostle the couch too much.

"How are you?" she finally asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Luciana let out a breath that was almost a laugh but lacked any real amusement. "Alive," she murmured.

Santana nodded, her eyes flickering toward the cast on Luciana's leg. "I—I tried visiting before, but your grandma said you weren't up for company."

Luciana gave a small shrug. "Yeah... I wasn't."

A beat of silence passed between them.

Santana glanced toward the television, then back at Luciana. "You look like you could use some company now, though."

Luciana's lips twitched, not quite a smile, but not nothing. She turned her head slightly, finally meeting Santana's gaze.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Maybe I do."

And for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel so suffocating to have someone sitting beside her.

The boxing gym smelled like sweat, leather, and the faint metallic tang of blood. It wasn't as structured as the dojo, nor did it hold the discipline of karate. But that was exactly why Nico liked it. There were no rules, no forms—just raw power, fists colliding with bags, and the ability to release everything trapped inside him.

His hair was now buzzed, a fresh start, but the past still clung to him in the form of scars—ones that ran deeper than the cut along his eyebrow or the bruises painting his cheek. His ribs still ached from the last fight at the Sekai Taikai, and his hands bore the damage of every punch he refused to pull.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Nico slammed his fists into the heavy bag, ignoring the sting in his knuckles, the way his skin was reddening with every hit. His muscles burned, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Images flickered through his mind like a cruel film reel.

Luciana's screams. The blood pooling beneath her leg. The way her face contorted in pain.

Kwon's lifeless body on the mat. The knife in his chest. His glassy, unseeing eyes staring into nothing.

His own face getting pummeled, each punch sending a jolt of pain through his skull.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Faster. Harder. He wanted to make the memories disappear, wanted to drown them out with force. His breathing was ragged, his vision tunneling.

Then—

"You do know you're supposed to hit them with gloves, right?"

Nico froze mid-swing, his body stiffening at the familiar voice. His hands, trembling from exertion, lowered slightly as he turned toward the source.

There, standing near the edge of the ring, was a face he never thought he'd see again.

Elena Torres.

The past had a funny way of sneaking up on him.

Nico felt his breath hitch slightly, but he masked it with a sharp inhale through his nose. She stood there with the same confidence she always had, arms crossed over her chest, her weight shifted to one side. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, strands framing her face, and her piercing brown eyes studied him with something between amusement and caution.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

"Elena," he mumbled, the name slipping from his lips before he could stop it.

She smirked slightly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Still mumbling, I see."

Nico clenched his jaw. He had no idea what to say. It had been a couple months since they last spoke, since he'd ended things between them. They had been stupid and passionate. They fought constantly—over small things, big things, things that didn't even matter in the long run. It had been the kind of love that burned too hot, too fast, and then collapsed in on itself.

But now? Now she was standing in front of him, and it felt like no time had passed at all.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough from exhaustion.

Elena raised a brow, gesturing around. "My dad owns this place. I practically grew up here. What are you doing here?"

Nico ran a hand through his buzzed hair, exhaling sharply. "Training."

"Training or self-destruction?" she challenged, eyes flicking to his bruised knuckles.

Nico didn't respond.

She sighed, stepping closer, tilting her head as she studied his face. "You look like hell, Nico."

"Yeah, well," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I feel worse."

A beat of silence passed before Elena shifted, her expression softening just slightly. "I heard about what happened at the Sekai Taikai."

Nico swallowed hard, his chest tightening. He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to remember. But Elena had always had a way of prying into the things he wanted to keep buried.

"How's Luciana?" she asked.

Nico's jaw tensed. "Recovering," he said simply.

Elena nodded slowly, watching him carefully. "And you?"

"I'm still standing," he muttered.

"Doesn't look like it," she shot back.

Nico let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "Why do you care?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "Come on, Nico. Just because we didn't work out doesn't mean I stopped caring."

He looked at her then, really looked at her. She was the same, yet different. More mature, more composed. But her eyes still held that fire, that determination he had once fallen for.

Nico inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders back. "I just needed to hit something."

Elena studied him for a long moment before reaching into a nearby locker and pulling out a pair of boxing gloves. She tossed them at his chest, and he caught them with ease.

"Then hit something properly," she said, stepping into the ring. "Come on. Let's see if you still got it."

Nico stared at her for a moment before a smirk ghosted over his lips. Despite everything—despite the past, despite the pain—there was something oddly comforting about seeing her again.

And maybe, just maybe, she was exactly what he needed.

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the small neighborhood in Mexico. The warm air was thick, but not oppressive—just enough to remind Luciana that the world outside her grandmother's home was still moving, still going on. She sat on the porch, her leg propped up on a cushion as the cast around it looked bulky and uncomfortable. She wore a simple tank top and jean shorts. Her eyes were tired—so much had happened in the past month, and the weight of it was settling deeper in her bones.

Santana sat beside her, leaning back in her chair, the sounds of children laughing and the faint rumble of cars passing by adding a strange comfort to the air. She glanced over at Luci, who hadn't said much since they'd sat down.

"So, the tournament can happen again?" Luci's voice broke the quiet.

Santana nodded, tapping her fingers against the armrest. "If all the senseis agree."

Luci's gaze drifted over the neighborhood, her eyes distant, lost in thought. She wasn't sure what to feel about it. She knew the Sekai Taikai was out of the question for her now—her leg was a constant reminder of that. A tight knot settled in her chest, one she couldn't shake.

"You should," Luci said, her tone soft but firm. "You should agree."

Santana turned to her, her brow furrowing slightly. Luciana was holding something back—she could feel it. The old Luci, the one who fought through anything, would've been excited about the possibility of the tournament. But now, with everything that had happened, Santana could see the frustration in her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself.

"Without my star female captain, I don't know who I'd have take your place," Santana said, trying to ease the tension.

Luci smirked slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "What about Mia?"

Santana shook her head. "She's good. Mia's really good, but not captain good."

She paused for a moment, her expression softening as she looked at Luciana. "I just don't think I could do it to you. I couldn't replace you like that."

Luci sighed, looking down at her leg, her face momentarily blank. She let the silence hang there between them, the weight of the moment pulling her in two directions.

"It doesn't matter about me anymore," Luci said after a beat, her voice quieter now, but firm. "I can't fight, and we've come this far. I didn't get my leg broken by those bitches for nothing. Find a replacement. Fight in the Sekai Taikai... win."

Santana didn't respond immediately. She took a deep breath, letting Luci's words sink in. It wasn't easy, but Luciana was right. The world kept turning, and it wouldn't stop for her. Santana wasn't sure she could ever replace Luci, but she had to carry on, for both of them.

"You know I can't do it without you, right?" Santana whispered, her voice tight with emotion, but her eyes never leaving Luciana.

Luci looked over at her, meeting her gaze with a small, sad smile. "You can. You'll make it happen. I know you will."

Luciana stepped into the apartment, feeling the familiar weight of the day on her shoulders. As soon as she opened the door, the blasting sound of music hit her, reverberating through the living room. She squinted her eyes and moved further inside, the rhythm of the beat thumping in her ears. She didn't even need to look to know who the cause of the noise was.

Santana was right behind her, slamming the door with a huff. "Dios mío," she muttered under her breath, her annoyance palpable as she stepped around Nico, who was in the middle of doing push-ups on the floor. Santana rolled her eyes and headed straight for the TV stand, slapping her hand on the speaker to silence it.

"I was listening to that," Nico protested, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement as he pushed himself off the ground, his arms slightly shaking from the intensity of the workout.

"Yeah, and I was tired of listening to it," Santana shot back with a smirk, stepping over him and tossing her lightweight jacket onto the couch with a fluid motion.

Nico stood up, rubbing his hands on his shorts before walking over to the kitchen area. He grabbed a water bottle from the counter, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig.

Santana crossed her arms as she leaned against the kitchen doorway, raising an eyebrow. "Where have you been all day?"

Nico glanced at her before shrugging, still focused on the cool water. "The boxing gym down the street."

Santana's brows furrowed as she looked at him, her mind working through the words. "Doesn't your ex Elena's dad own it?"

Nico paused for a moment, lowering the bottle, then nodded. "Yeah." He looked away, almost as if the subject wasn't something he was prepared to talk about, but the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his lips didn't go unnoticed by Santana.

"I... uh, actually saw her today," he mentioned, his tone a little softer than usual. His eyes held something—maybe a memory or a lingering thought—before he quickly wiped it away and took another sip of water. Santana didn't miss the brief flicker of something on his face, but she didn't push him on it. Not yet, anyway.

Santana stepped fully into the kitchen, uncrossing her arms. Her expression grew more serious, her posture shifting as she leaned in a little closer to him. "How would you feel continuing in the Sekai Taikai again?"

Nico froze for a split second, his eyes widening in surprise. His grip on the water bottle tightened slightly as his mind processed the question. The tone in Santana's voice wasn't casual—this wasn't just a passing thought. She was serious.

"Wait, what?" Nico asked, a bit caught off guard as he lowered the bottle from his lips. "You're asking me if I want to go back into the tournament? After... everything?"

Santana looked at him seriously, her eyes filled with a determination that she had learned to mask over time. "This could be good for us. We go where we left off. I think it's a guaranteed win."

Nico scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And what about Luci?" he wondered aloud, his voice softening slightly. He couldn't help but feel the weight of her absence, knowing how badly she wanted to be there.

Santana hesitated for a moment, but the words she knew had to be said came out. "Luci... Luci said she wanted us to fight and win. Even if it's without her." Her voice softened at the mention of Luciana's name, but there was no doubt in her tone. "We can win this, Nico. Together."

Nico stood still for a moment, feeling the tension build in his chest. His eyes narrowed, frustration taking over. "Is that all you care about?" he spat, his voice rising. "Ever since you picked me up from foster care and I started learning karate, it's always been about winning. When I broke up with Elena, it was the hardest thing of my life and you said it doesn't matter because I'll be a champion one day." His words started coming out faster now, the anger and resentment spilling out uncontrollably. "You think I want to be like you for the rest of my life? Just another champion—no real meaning behind it?"

Santana scoffed, her brows furrowing as she took a step back, her tone sharp and defensive. "Excuse me? Tienes suerte de que no sea tu madre," she snapped, her words flowing quickly in Spanish, the frustration clear in her voice. She walked away from him, as though distancing herself from the conversation, but her anger was still simmering beneath the surface.

"Yeah, well you aren't my mom," Nico fired back, his voice louder now. "I can't believe you want to continue after what happened. Someone died, and it's like you don't even care!" His words hit harder than he intended, and the room seemed to freeze for a split second. The mention of Kwon, the blood, the tragedy—it all came rushing back to him, overwhelming him with emotion he didn't know how to control.

Santana's eyes flashed with anger as she whipped around to face him, her voice rising with fury. "Well, I already agreed to the tournament, so you either fight with me or butt the fuck out, Nico!" Her words were cutting, but there was something else buried deep beneath the surface—something Nico couldn't quite place.

Nico clenched his fists, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why bother asking when you make all the decisions anyway?" His voice was laced with bitterness, and he turned away from her, his body tense with frustration.

As he walked past Santana, he hit her shoulder hard, the force of it sending a jolt through his own body. He didn't care. The anger, the hurt, it was all too much. He stormed down the hall to his room, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing through the apartment.

Santana groaned out angrily, her frustration spilling over as she kicked the metal trash can, hard enough to send it toppling over onto the floor with a sharp clang. The sound echoed through the apartment, but it did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside her. She slid down the fridge, her back against it as she sank to the floor, her hands running through her hair, pushing it back from her face. Her chest was tight, and she couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, pulled between so many different emotions—anger, guilt, worry—her mind racing from one thing to the next.

In that moment, the only person she could think of was Feng. His face flashed in her mind, his calm but intense gaze, the way his presence had always made her feel both grounded and on edge at the same time. She remembered the way their lips collided, the heat and urgency of it. That kiss had been a mixture of relief, passion, and something darker that neither of them wanted to face.

Their last heated encounter played in her mind again, that raw tension that had lingered between them after the big fight. There were no words exchanged, just a quiet understanding that things were messy, complicated—just like everything else.

Santana's heart ached as she remembered the silence that followed. She had been so consumed with worry about Luciana, so focused on what was happening in the moment, that she had shut out everything else. All she wanted to do then was pick up the phone and call Feng, hear his voice, tell him she was sorry, tell him... what? She didn't even know what she would say, but she needed him to hear her, to be there, somehow.

But now, as the reality of their distance settled in, she wondered if he felt the same way.

Who would've thought that deep in Hong Kong, Feng would be feeling the exact same thing? He had wanted to reach out, wanted to pick up the phone, but just like her, he'd been caught up in his own world—too many things happening at once, too much to process.

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the fridge, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Everything was falling apart, and she was stuck in the middle of it, trying to hold things together. And the one person who understood her like nobody else—who could help her make sense of it all—was thousands of miles away.

With a heavy sigh, she reached for her phone, the weight of it in her hand feeling heavier than usual. But just before she could unlock it, she stopped. What would she even say to him after everything?

The silence between them felt insurmountable. But maybe that was just another fight she'd have to face.

Santana placed her phone back into her pocket, the urge to call Feng still lingering but pushed aside by the immediate need to clean up the mess she'd made. She bent down, picking up the trash that had spilled out of the can. The sharp clang of the metal trash can still echoed in her mind, a sound that was now drowned out by the focus it took to clean. Her hands quickly scooped up the litter, and she wiped them on a towel, taking deep breaths, trying to rid herself of the tension that had been building all day.

Just as she finished drying her hands, a knock at the door broke her train of thought. She furrowed her brows, glancing toward the door, confused for a moment. Who could it be at this hour?

She quickly dried off her hands and made her way to the door, twisting the handle. When she pulled it open, she blinked, surprised to see Elena Torres standing there.

Elena's hair was parted neatly to the side, framing her face perfectly, and she had a new septum piercing that Santana couldn't help but notice. She looked good—well-put-together, like she had been doing just fine since leaving Red Fury.

"Hey, Santana," Elena greeted with a small smile, and Santana raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her surprise.

"Uh, long time no see," Elena added awkwardly, shifting on her feet.

Santana chuckled, her smile widening a bit despite herself. "Yeah," she mumbled, leaning against the doorframe. "It's been a minute."

Elena shifted, pulling a pair of boxing gloves from behind her back and holding them out to Santana. "Anyways, I got these for Nico. He was at the gym earlier, and he seemed angry and... doesn't matter," she trailed off quickly, shaking her head. "I just got him these. Maybe he can focus his anger and hit a bag with these next time." She handed the gloves to Santana, who took them in her hands, her fingers lightly brushing against the new leather.

Santana looked at the gloves for a moment before her eyes flicked back up to Elena. The words from earlier, from the conversation with Luci, suddenly flashed in her mind.

"Without my star female captain, I don't know who I'd have take your place..."

"Find a replacement. Fight in the Sekai Taikai... win."

The words stung in her chest, but before she could say anything, Elena began to turn, waving slightly. "Well, I'll leave you to it. See you around," she said, starting to walk away down the hallway toward the elevator.

But Santana's mind scrambled, and before she even realized it, she stepped out into the hallway after her. "Wait! Elena..." she called out, her voice coming out a little more frantic than she intended.

Elena paused, glancing over her shoulder, a curious look in her eyes. "What's up?" she asked.

Santana stood still for a moment, her brain working overtime. Elena had been the first girl, besides Luci, to join Red Fury. She practically helped with the gis, and though the breakup with Nico had led her to leave, she had trained long enough to know what she was doing. And the way she fought—she was a heavy hitter, just like her father, who owned the gym Nico had been at earlier.

Santana didn't even realize she had already spoken the words until they left her lips. "Do you still like Karate?" she asked.

Elena looked at her for a beat, her brow furrowing slightly before a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The interest was immediate, and the spark in her eyes made Santana's heart race just a little faster.

"Yeah, of course," Elena replied, her tone soft but filled with clear excitement at the mention of it. "Why?"

Santana's smile grew as she felt the light bulb in her head flicker on, brighter and brighter, until it practically exploded with an idea. "I think I've got the perfect idea," she said, her voice full of purpose, as her mind began to put the pieces together.

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authors note:

uh ohhh nico got a bit of an attitude but no hatingggggg!! i hope you guys enjoyed and don't worry the fight scenes and the tension with Wolf and Santana will be back in no time. Elena is also gonna eat so hard, YALL FINNA SEE A HEAVY HITTER FRRR she box and does karate???

thoughts? 💭

words: 4263