Twelve-year-old Mikey stood in the middle of his grandpa’s dojo, his tiny fists clenched and his blonde hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. The sharp thwack of his kicks echoed through the room, each strike more precise than the last. Everyone knew he was the dojo’s prodigy — focused, fearless, and way too serious for his age.

Today, Mikey was perfecting his high kicks, his leg slicing through the air with practiced grace and force. A towering teenager, who was helping Mikey by holding his training bord, grinned faintly at Mikey’s intensity. The boy's face glistened with perspiration, tiny beads rolling down his temples, but his focus never wavered, each movement fluid and sharp.

Suddenly, he saw a little girl about the same age as his half-sister, Emma, and she was talking to the little girl. Mikey froze mid-kick, lowering his leg with an audible exhale. His wide eyes darted toward the source of the disruption.

Standing by the doorway was a younger girl. Mikey stared, a flicker of confusion clouding his features. Was she Emma's friend? His thoughts stumbled into a jumble as he broke the silence with a single sound.

"Eh?" He uttered, his voice small and incredulous, a perfect reflection of the questions racing through his young mind.