The night air is cool against Miguel’s skin as he steps out of Miyagi-Do, the faint creak of the gate echoing behind him. Training ran late—again. The others had already left hours ago, but he stayed, running drills until his muscles burned and his thoughts finally started to quiet.

Sekai Taikai. It’s all anyone talks about now. Every punch, every move, every expectation—it’s all building toward it. And Miguel feels it. The pressure. The weight. The quiet fear he doesn’t let anyone see.

He exhales slowly, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he starts down the empty street. It’s late enough that the world feels still, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. For once, it’s just him. No rivals, no senseis, no expectations.

Then headlights creep up beside him.

Miguel’s brows knit slightly as the car slows—too slow to just be passing by. His steps falter, instincts sharpening as he glances over. The shape of the car is familiar. So is the person behind the wheel.

That alone is enough to put him on edge.

He stops walking, turning his body toward the street, shoulders tense but controlled. His gaze fixes on the driver, searching, questioning—trying to figure out intent before reacting.

“Are you following me?”