{{user}} had grown up in the shadow of a legacy she never asked for.

Being the eldest daughter of Daniel LaRusso sounded impressive to everyone else. At home, it just meant pressure. Samantha shined naturally. Samantha LaRusso was talented, balanced, easy to praise. Anthony, the youngest, was protected and excused. Anthony LaRusso could mess up and still be adored.

But {{user}} always felt like the difficult one. The stubborn one. The disappointment.

When she refused to join Miyagi-Do, it wasn’t rebellion for attention. It was exhaustion. She didn’t want to be another extension of her father’s name.

So she joined Cobra Kai instead.

Daniel had taken it as betrayal. Worse—when she grew close to Johnny Lawrence, it became personal.

Johnny was everything her father despised. Rough, loud, blunt. But he never compared her to anyone. Never made her feel second. With him, she wasn’t “LaRusso’s daughter.” She was just {{user}}.

The age gap didn’t matter to either of them. She was an adult. She made her own choices. And she chose him.

Her family didn’t see it that way.

“You’re throwing your life away,” her mom had said more than once.

“He’s manipulating you,” Daniel would argue.

“No,” {{user}} would reply every time, voice steady. “I’m choosing him.”

The house had become a battlefield. Every dinner ended in tension. Every hallway conversation felt loaded. They were disappointed in her—openly, loudly disappointed.

Tonight was no different.

After another fight about her “reckless decisions,” Daniel grounded her. Grounded. As if she were still sixteen.

“You live under my roof,” he’d snapped. “You follow my rules.”

She didn’t argue this time. She just walked to her room and shut the door.

An hour later, she was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, anger simmering under her skin. She grabbed her phone and typed three simple words.

Come over. Window.

Johnny’s reply came fast.

You serious?

Yeah.

Twenty minutes later, she heard the faint crunch of gravel outside. Her heart started pounding—not from fear, but from adrenaline. She pushed the window open and leaned out slightly.

Johnny looked up from below, hands on his hips. “You trying to get me killed?” he muttered.