Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robby wakes up to two loud voices. He can’t place them at first; he’s still hovering between dream and waking. His head hurts like someone’s dropped a whole building on it.

Did he fall off his skateboard? What the hell happened?

„… and if you hadn’t been so distracted by the divorce, maybe you would have noticed!“

That’s his dad. Robby doesn’t see him a lot, but his voice is more than memorable.

Why is his dad here?

„He’s been your son for seventeen years, I‘ve barely known him for one. But yes, of course. I’m the one to blame. As always.”

He doesn’t recognize the other voice. Odd. Because it sounds like the man knows Robby. He blinks slowly, but can’t quite get his eyes to open.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Johnny, except you always do this. Nothing is your fault. Nothing is your responsibility.“

Finally, the picture in front of him becomes clear. His dad, his shirt just as crinkled as his face, stands opposite a man in a dark grey suit holding a get-well card.

Robby blinks lazily, not entirely sure what’s going on.

„I’m not letting you lecture me on responsibility! I know I’m a shit father. But I’m the one who’s been here for sixteen hours and you just marched in with your—“

“Because you didn’t bother to tell me which hospital you were in!”

“Sorry for not sending Sensei Hypocrite a taxi! Who taught Robby to almost shove a kid over a railing and send him flying two stories, huh? That’s what I want to know! You’re fucking lucky Miguel dodged that, let me tell you that!”

“Dad?” Robby croaks.

“ROBBY!”

His dad is by his bedside in an instant, on his knees, and he looks wrecked, absolutely fucking destroyed, and Robby is so confused he looks up to the other man as if he might be able to provide an explanation.

“I’m so glad you woke up, Robby!” the man says. “How do you feel?”

He has big, earnest brown eyes. Robby nervously licks his lips.

“I’m, uh. I’m good.”

The man doesn’t look like a doctor at all, and he probably isn’t, considering that he just spent a considerable amount of time fighting with his dad (his dad who never calls him, his dad who is currently burying his face in the sheets like he’s trying very hard not to cry; what the actual fuck is going on).

He reminds Robby of somebody, but he can’t put his finger on it.

“Are you with the hospital?” Robby says quietly — he already knows that’s wrong, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

The man looks crestfallen.

Robby bites his lip and looks away to his father.

Dad looks like he’s going to pass out.

*

He can hear them talking in the hallway. The nurse is doing it out of his earshot, but it’s not exactly a secret what’s happening. Something’s wrong with his memory. He’s supposed to be remembering stuff that he isn’t remembering. The man, for example. Whoever he is.

And he’s probably supposed to remember what landed him in the hospital. From what his dad said, it sounds like Robby’s been in a fight. Some other guy seemed to have been involved, too. Not that that explains anything.

But what fucks with his brain the most is that his dad is here. Sixteen hours, he can hear him say. He looks like he’s been here sixteen hours. Like he has worried about him all night – barely slept, living off shitty cafeteria sandwiches.

Why does his dad care about him all of a sudden? That’s not normal.

The nurse asked him a few questions about dates and times, made him draw a clock, made him write down his address and a bunch of other stuff. Asked him who the president is and if he can remember his birthday. Now they’re out there assessing how bad it is, and Robby can’t even hear. Ridiculous.

Finally, they all shuffle back in. A doctor, a nurse, his dad and the stranger. They all look at him with pity and worry. Robby almost gets out of bed and tells them to fuck themselves.

But something about the way that man in the suit looks at him, like he knows exactly what Robby’s thinking, glues him in place and makes him look down at his hands.

“So? What’s the damage?”

“Well.” The doctor settles down on a chair next to his bed. She looks too old to be a doctor, like she should be retired or something, but her eyes are kind. “We’ll have to run some more tests and scans to exclude further brain damage, but so far it looks like you have some memory issues.”

“Okay,” Robby says, even though this is definitely the opposite of okay.

“Last you remember, you were still living with your mother, and going to school regularly. That’s how we could pinpoint that your last memories seem to come from about a year ago. During summer.”

“Do I not go to school anymore?” It’s an odd detail to focus on, but in all fairness it’s a very odd thing for her to say. He’d rather think about school absences than the fact that he’s missed a whole year of his life. Jumped from summer to summer like there’s nothing but air in between.

“You tried to drop out for a bit,” his dad says with a lopsided smile. “Wouldn’t listen to me. You’re back in now.”

He throws a glance over at the man in the suit, who promptly looks down to his shoes. Robby frowns.

“Okay.” He doesn’t know why he keeps saying okay. “Where’s mom?”

“Rehab.”

“What?”

Both men smile at him, like it’s not the first time they’ve heard him say this, and Robby is even more clueless than before.

Is that his mom’s new boyfriend? He looks like he has some money, but doesn’t seem stupid and desperate — that’s usually the holy trifecta of Mom’s type. A friend of his dad‘s, then? But why would they be yelling at each other, then? If his dad is pissed at him but he's still allowed to be here, that means he has to be family, right?

The doctor gets up. „We’ll let you rest a bit now. Be with your family. Alright? We’ll be back tomorrow at nine for testing.“

Robby nods at her and the nurse, and suddenly he’s alone with his dad and the stranger. It’s an awkward ten seconds or so, then the stranger sits down in the chair the doctor just gave up. He stretches his hand out and Robby takes it.

“I should probably introduce myself. I’m Daniel LaRusso.”

“Hi.”

Robby doesn’t want to ask how they know each other. Not when the man looked so shaken the first time he asked. Like Robby’s important to him.

Robby‘s math skills are atrocious and he’s failing Spanish, but he’s not an idiot. He can figure this out.

His dad is hovering over by the window, physically as far from Daniel LaRusso as possible.

“I was in a fight?” Robby guesses.

“Yeah,” his dad says slowly. “You, uh, you hit your head on a wall. Pretty hard.”

“Oh,” Robby says, trying not to remember his dad’s anger earlier when he yelled something about Robby trying to shove someone over a railing. He only just got his dad to care about him; he doesn’t need to remind him of reasons why he might want to stop again. Somehow, the question comes out anyway.

“Is the other guy okay?”

LaRusso smiles next to him, and looks up at Johnny as if trying to prove a point. His dad tightens his jaw as if he’s acknowledging the silent comment.

Robby’s mostly just pissed everyone seems to have learned telepathy in the last year without bothering to teach him. He’s already tired of the meaningful glances and he’s barely been awake for an hour.

“Miguel’s okay,” his dad finally says. “And you’ll be okay, too. Sleep. You do your tests tomorrow and then you can go home. I can bring you some of my clothes.”

Robby blinks. “I mean… yeah. Or you could just get me my clothes.”

Dad opens and closes his mouth and looks away. What’s his problem? Robby can’t possibly have locked his room that well. And his dad doesn’t seem like he’d be above punching through a door for a change of socks. Unless his dad doesn’t have any of Robby’s stuff at his place.

He narrows his eyes, confused.

“If I’m not staying with mom, and I’m not staying with you… where am I staying?”

Daniel LaRusso clears his throat. “With me. You’ve been staying with me.”

Robby is still staring at his dad, more for an explanation than anything else, and catches an odd expression on his face. Something between sadness, anger and jealousy. It’s only there for a second, bright and then gone like a strike of lightning. He doesn’t even look at Robby. He looks at LaRusso.

“Wait,” Robby says slowly. “Of course. I know you. You’re that karate guy he's obsessed with. From the billboards. The one who kissed his ex and kicked him in the face. Thinks he can come in from New Jersey all smug and pretty… That’s you, right?”

“Smug and pretty?”

LaRusso laughs, and Robby almost does, too, because this is all too absurd.

He's living with his dad's old karate rival? This has to be a prank. Not only that, but his father didn't seem surprised at all. He knows Robby lives with LaRusso, and he still came and sat here for sixteen hours. Those two facts already seem impossible on their own, but the combination feels like pushing two North Pole magnets together. Like reality could fall apart at any second. None of this makes any damn sense.

"Robby," LaRusso says, leaning forward with a mischievous expression, "I need to know if this is a verbatim quote."

His dad turns away, looking flustered. “I'm not obsessed.”

Bull-fucking-shit. His dad is such a liar. And now he’s making Robby look like a liar just because he's a coward?

“What? You’re literally always talking about him. And you talk to me like twice a year. So…”

His dad doesn’t even flinch from the accusation that he doesn’t call enough. He’s too busy being embarrassed.

And suddenly, everything’s so obvious.

His absolute dumbass of a dad started hooking up with his karate rival -- typical Johnny Lawrence fuck-first-think-later shit -- then he panicked like he always does, and broke up with him and fucked off. Honestly, with how much of Johnny's brain space this high school rivalry seems to occupy, Robby is barely surprised it turned into sex at some point. 

No, not just a breakup. A divorce. Robby remembers them talking about divorce when he was just waking up. His dad, who can barely manage two seconds of eye contact with a gas station employee without saying “no homo” got gay married and gay divorced in under a year -- and managed to make Robby get along better with his new stepfather than his own dad. So much so that Robby is now living with him.

Yeah, that sounds more like the Dad he remembers.

And Robby has the privilege of waking up in the middle of this. Fucking fantastic.

Chapter Text

Since he’s no longer an emergency patient, they move him to a different room. The nurse explains that he can get visitors now, although Robby has no idea who’d visit him. He has no idea who he’s been spending time with in the last year. He really doesn’t need a visit from Trey and Cruz while his head still feels like someone has filled it with dying goldfish.

“We’ll be back in half an hour,” she says. “The CT was normal, but we’ll run an MRI to cover all our bases, and wait for the lab results while you speak to our neurology department.”

“Okay,” Robby says.

“You have a friend outside. Do you want to see him before the MRI or after?”

The last thing Robby wants is to carry this whole nervousness with him into whatever scans and talks they’ll be doing. So he asks her to send the guy in now.

A few minutes later, a boy awkwardly walks into his room and takes position by the TV. Probably roughly around Robby’s age. Dark hair, athletic-looking but still on the skinnier side. Robby keeps looking him up and down, as if he’ll find a sign saying ‘we know each other from math class’ dangling out from somewhere if he just keeps staring hard enough. After he remembered LaRusso, he thought the rest of the changes would come to him similarly fast – but then again, he knew about him before last year. 

Not a single memory is popping up about this new guy.

This is so frustrating.

“Hey,” the boy finally says, probably having decided he’s let Robby stare at him for long enough.

“Hi,” Robby says, expectantly.

“Sensei Lawrence said you don’t remember me?”

“Sen–” Robby clears his throat. “My dad is teaching you karate?”

“I mean… yeah, man. We…” The guy frowns at him, and looks a bit flabbergasted. “You really don’t remember anything , huh?”

Robby shakes his head.

“I thought this was just an act so you wouldn’t get in trouble for what happened at school. But I don’t think you could hide how pissed off you were at me. And you don’t seem pissed off. So. This is for real, huh?”

“Yes?” Robby says, but it comes out like a question. “Why was I pissed off at you?”

“I kinda… kissed your girlfriend. At a party.”

“Oh,” Robby says. He didn’t expect that twist. 

“You remember Sam?”

Robby bites his lip and shakes his head. 

Sam. A girlfriend. He’s forgotten the birthdays of girls he’s gone out with. He’s never forgotten a whole girlfriend before. That’s gotta earn him top three in the shittiest boyfriends of all times list, for sure.

Although if she kissed someone else, maybe they deserve each other.

“We got in a fight about it?” the boy tries again, and when Robby shakes his head a second time, he turns on storytelling mode. Entirely too cheerful, if you consider the fact Robby’s in the hospital with amnesia. “Well, actually Tory got in a fight with Sam. Tory’s my girlfriend. Or… I don’t know. Was my girlfriend. She probably wants to kill me now. You and me, we tried to intervene, things got serious… It was a whole thing. Half the school was involved by the end. It’s been a crazy week, man. Sam said her dad kicked in my sensei’s door. I’m Miguel, by the way.”

Robby remembers his father’s reassurance. Miguel’s okay.

He also remembers something else. From the discussion he was probably not meant to hear. His voice is quiet when he speaks again.

“I didn’t fight fair, did I?”

Miguel’s eyes go wide.

“You… you remember that?”

“No. My dad yelled at Mr LaRusso about it and I overheard.”

“I mean, at the end, there was sort of a moment where I thought I was for sure gonna die. We were fighting, then I told you I’m sorry and backed off, but you were still pissed and almost kicked me over a railing, but I… I mean, I dodged it. So it’s fine.”

Robby swallows.

“I mean, you slipped and hit your head on a wall. So. Obviously it’s not fine, but like… We’re cool, right? You’re not gonna send me to jail or anything?”

“For… not letting me kill you? No. I don’t think they lock people up for that. Also, it sounds like I deserved it. A little bit.” He messes with a loose part of skin next to his nail. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

It’s weird, feeling guilty about things he doesn’t even remember. Miguel looks like this situation is no less weird for him.

“Yeah, man. Um. I’m sorry for kissing Sam.”

“Forget about it”, Robby mutter, then does an ironic little laugh when he realizes what he just said. “I mean… not that I’d recommend that. Overall kind of a shitty experience.”

So they aren’t friends after all. Or at least, he hopes that they weren’t. That would make this entire situation much worse.

Either way, he still doesn’t feel angry. What Miguel has told him about the past few days doesn’t feel like his life, it feels like his mom recapping a new episode of her favorite soap opera at the breakfast table. If nobody had told him about this rivalry, or about Sam, he would have had no idea. That makes it all less real somehow.

Miguel stands around for another ten second before practically fleeing from the room with a hurried “See you at school!”

Robby still has ten minutes before the nurse will come back, and he really needs a distraction from this weird-ass conversation. So he turns to his nightstand and starts opening get-well cards. There are three of them.

The first one has cheesy big letters on the outside, and the inside is a mix of signatures; a bunch of names he’s never heard. Chris. Demetri. Paul.

The second one is just a postcard with an EXPRESS DELIVERY sticker on the back, and a few lines from his mom in rehab. She wishes him a quick recovery. Her words are a bit smeared. He hopes she’s just crying and not drinking.

The third card has a tree on the front. It doesn’t even really look like a get-well card, now that Robby’s thinking about it. He opens it.

Robby–

If you’re reading this, you’re back among the living and I’ll probably be so relieved I’ll forget all about my stern lecture on fighting with honor. I know you’re a good kid with good intentions, and I’ll keep reminding you until you remember it on your own, no matter what life throws at you. Never forget that you have a lot of people in your corner.

Your Sensei :)

When they pick him up for his appointment, he’s still turning that word over in his mind. Sensei.

And he thinks of Miguel. Sensei Lawrence.

When the hell did he get into karate?

*

His father comes by after the MRI scan. He’s brought a flannel and some t-shirts, and a pair of jeans that Robby is pretty sure won’t fit him at all. But it’s so strange, having his dad in the room bringing him stuff, that Robby is still too stunned to put up much of a fight.

Daniel LaRusso shows up ten minutes later in a suit and tie, looking every bit like your typical suburban dad type. A stark contrast to Robby’s actual dad, who somehow looks like he’s plundered Robby’s closet instead of the other way around.

They sit on opposite ends of the room when he leaves for the neurologists, not speaking to each other at all. 

After he’s answered about five hundred of the neurologists’ questions, yesterday’s doctor comes in and tells him that he’s ready to go home. “You have a concussion, but there’s no severe damage to your skull or your brain matter. You were very lucky. All you need to get back to normal is some time.  A few weeks. A month, maybe.”

“A month?” his dad snaps. “You’re gonna charge us thousands of dollars for going home and doing fuck-all?”

“Maybe wait until we actually get the bill before you start taking hostages,” LaRusso says mildly. "Besides, I can pay."

“Like hell you will.”

Robby tries to hide his grin. It’s very funny to imagine his father being some reluctant sugar baby. That man is stubborn as a mule. It’d be so typical of him to get with a rich guy and then complain how rich he is at any given opportunity. Valentine’s Day must have been a bloodbath.

The doctor sends them both a very unimpressed glare and then focuses back on Robby.

“Take it easy on physical activity for now. No sports until we clear you. And I want you to write down in a notebook whenever you remember something. Not things someone told you about the missing year, but things you remembered by yourself. Okay?”

Robby nods. “Like when I remembered the billboards.”

The doctor wasn’t in the room when that happened, but she nods anyway. “Anything at all. Even if it seems unimportant. The position of something in the bathroom. A sentence, even if it might be from a movie and you’re not sure. And I want you to come back every Friday so we can do a checkup and see what you’re remembering. And it would be helpful”, she turns around and looks sternly at the two men flanking Robby’s bed to either side, “if you didn’t correct him too harshly when he misremembers. He needs to get into the habit of letting memories come to him.”

“I understand”, LaRusso nods.

His dad frowns. “So, if he thinks he’s the Queen of England, we’re just supposed to give him a thumbs-up or what?”

The doctor and LaRusso sigh in unison. 

“I’m saying”, the doctor says patiently, “if he makes an educated guess that isn’t indicative of severe brain damage, let him see where that thought leads. Let him mess around with the puzzle pieces. For example, If he thinks he’s been to a certain place before, but he hasn’t, ask him why he thinks that. What fragments led him to that assumption.”

Johnny stares for a few moments. “Like Alzheimers?”

The doctor gives a pleased, but surprised nod. “Similar to how you might talk to patients at certain stages of dementia. Yes.”

LaRusso gazes over to Robby’s dad, his expression unreadable.

*

In the parking lot, Robby's father leans against a black and yellow Challenger while LaRusso packs Robby's stuff into his trunk. Robby can't decide if the car looks cool or ridiculous with the Cobra Kai decals. Maybe a bit of both.

"That's your car?" Robby says.

"Technically, it's my car," Mr LaRusso murmurs conspiratorially, and Johnny throws him a snarky smile.

"That's not how gifts work, LaRusso. But I guess I'm not surprised you don't understand that."

Okay. So Mr LaRusso gave his dad a whole car. That's a thing that happened. Reluctant Sugar Baby Round One. This is honestly hilarious -- but only to Robby, apparently. Mr LaRusso slams the trunk shut, clearly annoyed, and wanders over until he's face to face with Johnny.

"So. Are you going to let me take care of the bill, Johnny? Or are you washing hospital dishes for the next twenty-six years?"

There's a long silence as they're staring at each other.

“Anything happens with Robby, you call me,” Johnny says brusquely. Which isn't a yes, but also isn't a no.

Then he practically throws himself into his car and speeds off. LaRusso sighs.

“Do you guys always act like that?” Robby says.

“How?”

“Weird as fuck.”

“No swearing,” LaRusso says absent-mindedly, like he says it twenty times a day and barely even means it anymore. He doesn’t answer Robby’s question, but he doesn’t deny the assumption.

The drive feels short, considering everything looks a bit new to Robby. He’s lived around the Valley forever, but these streets are not his usual way home. He wonders what their place is like. He wonders if he calls him Mr LaRusso.

Probably not, since he used to be Robby’s stepdad. Not unless he wanted to be a real dick to his dad when he introduced the guy to Robby. He can see himself doing that. Robby can be petty as hell if he wants to be. Oh, hello, Father-I-never-see. You want me to meet your new boyfriend ‘Daniel’? Mr LaRusso it is.

“What do I call you?” he asks in a small voice.

He doesn’t want to ask, not really, but he also doesn’t want to stumble through endless awkward sentences like “Could I be given the salt” to avoid saying the guy’s name.

Mr LaRusso carefully puts the blinker. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“Okay, but what did I used to call you?”

A brief silence.

“Mr LaRusso.”

Robby laughs out loud. “I knew it. I’m such an asshole.”

The guy lets his ex-stepkid move in with him after being dumped and Robby’s still all like, “cool, thanks Mr LaRusso”? So fucking passive-aggressive. It makes him feel better, in a weird way. It’s good to know that he didn’t go through some magical personality change. He’s not expected to live up to this year’s angel behavior with last year’s delinquent brain.

“No swearing,” LaRusso says again, but he sounds vaguely amused as well. “Do you want to call me Daniel instead? I really don’t mind either way.”

“I mean, it’s weird either way, right? Considering the, um, situation.”

LaRusso just sort of hums.

Mr LaRusso has charged his phone for him, and Robby turns it on for the first time since waking up yesterday evening. A pin code field tauntingly blinks up at him. Shit. Robby never used to have one of those before.

“You wouldn’t happen to know my code, would you?” he says to Mr LaRusso.

“Why would I–” Mr LaRusso looks over at Robby’s lock screen. “Oh. No, I’m really sorry. I don’t.”

“Great.” Robby lets out a tired laugh. Now he can’t even look at his pictures. Or his chats and contacts. Nothing at all. He’s flying completely blind.

“You know, my kids always say I’m too strict,” Mr LaRusso jokes in that voice parents do when they want to cheer up their kids, equally embarrassing and endearing. “Turns out I’m not strict enough.”

A beat passes.

“I can get you a backup phone until you remember.”

“Ok,” Robby says, voice suddenly wobbly. “Thanks.”

They finally turn into a fenced-in front yard with lots of old cars in it. LaRusso parks and carefully watches his face for a reaction. 

Robby already hates it. He’s gonna keep letting people down for a whole month. Fucking great.

He subtly shakes his head to indicate he doesn’t remember anything.

LaRusso still lets him walk in front. Gives him the house keys and lets him unlock the front door. Robby turns the key, steps inside, and has toed off his left shoe before he can think about it. Perplexed, he looks down at his feet, one foot in a black shoe, one in a gray sock, right next to a tidy but sizable pile of more shoes. The green ones are his. He remembers those. They were always a bit big for him. Final sale, no returns. He wonders if they fit better now.

Slowly, he takes off his other shoe.

He can practically feel Mr LaRusso’s smile behind him, but refuses to turn and see it.

Robby looks up and steps inside. He’s hoping for a flood of memories to rush at him. It’s a Japanese-style house, sectioned off with screens instead of walls and doors. It looks clean and neat. Nice place. But he doesn’t remember anything, except that this is apparently a shoes off kind of house, and that doesn’t even really count, because his feet remembered, not his brain. Muscle memory.

Mr LaRusso doesn’t care about that distinction. The small win at the door right now seems to have put him in a great mood, and before Robby has even put down his bags and hung up his jacket, he’s on the phone ordering Thai food.

“Extra spicy red curry?” he says quietly to Robby, one hand over the receiver like a grandpa, and Robby just shrugs. He doesn’t really mind what he gets. It's hard to go wrong with Thai food.

“Thank you. Thank you.” LaRusso hangs up the phone and beams. “Forty-five minutes.”

For some stupid reason, Robby wonders what his father will be having for dinner. Did they used to have family dinners, the three of them? Probably not. Maybe Robby barely spent time at home, just like at his mom’s place. He’s not sure what’s more uncomfortable, a mother with a never-ending string of hookups, or an absent father suddenly willing to play house.

He tries to imagine his dad married. 

Tries to imagine him in this nice, clean house. It doesn’t seem like a very good fit. Maybe that’s a sign that the breakup was for the best – when you understand the breakup more than you understand why people got together in the first place.

“So who lives here?” he finally asks.

His dad obviously doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s just the two of them. Maybe there’s a whole orphanage of troubled kids hidden underground. 

LaRusso opens one of the sliding screens into something that resembles a small kitchen and living room and goes inside to turn on the lights. “Just you and me, right now. Sam and Anthony come over, of course, but there’s no spare beds, so they don’t usually stay overnight.”

“Sam?” Robby blurts out, trying to sound normal; but he must sound very much not normal, because LaRusso sighs. 

“Miguel told you?”

Robby bites his lip. “He told me we fought over a girl named Sam. So that’s…”

“My daughter. Yes. Samantha LaRusso.”

Robby swallows. He went out with his ex-stepsister? That sounds uncomfortable as fuck. Ironically, ex-stepsister might be the best possible option here. Maybe he started going out with her while their parents were still married. He doesn’t even want to get into that. So he decides to bring up something even more uncomfortable to distract himself.

“Does my dad ever come over?”

LaRusso awkwardly licks his lips. “Um.”

That’s a no.

“How often am I at his place?”

“When you have time. When you get along.” His face is not unkind. “Things are a bit complicated.”

No fucking shit, Robby thinks, but he doesn’t want to get admonished for swearing again, so he just nods.

Mr LaRusso bends down to a low commode and pulls out a spiral notebook. “Here. Why don’t you put your stuff in your room? Write down the things you remembered earlier, like the doctor said.”

Robby smiles. He likes the way he worded that; that he’s not expecting Robby to write down a million new memories about his room. Just the stuff he knows for sure. 

“I can write down the thing about the shoes,” he says.

“Good idea.”

“Can I have a look around?”

“Of course, of course. Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with the guy to be so nice all the time, especially to a guy like Robby. But he doesn’t want to put that at risk, so he follows LaRusso’s directions to his room. There’s a single bed, a desk, a couple of school books, a commode. His skateboard is in a corner, and there’s a single sock hanging from one of the wheels.

It’s very much not tidy. Robby grins and puts the bag with his old clothes in a corner and the notebook on the desk. Then he sets out to explore the rest of the house.

The room next to him is LaRusso’s room, which he pointed out casually but Robby understood as a pointed “please don’t go inside”. Not that he wants to, there’s really no need for him to be looking at the guy’s personal stuff. He wonders if LaRusso has dates over sometimes. That’s gotta be fucking weird, coming into your date’s house, and their ex’s kid is there. Robby knows he’d probably bail if he was in their place.

He wanders back through the kitchen, looks at the tea flavors and the different drawers. A picture of a family is on the wall. Two small kids on a towel next to a gigantic beach ball, and a laughing couple wearing bathing suits in the background. The man is Mr LaRusso, so the little girl must be Sam. She can’t be more than six in this picture, and she’s squinting into the sun, so Robby really can’t make out a lot of facial features.

The main room is more interesting. For how tidy it looks, there’s actually a lot of stuff around. A small tree in a pot. Some sort of framed war medal. Wall hangings with Japanese calligraphy. Finally, he walks over to a shelf with picture frames. Pictures say more than a thousand words, right?

A black and white portrait of an old Asian man. The same man smiling next to a young Mr LaRusso in a karate outfit – gi , his mind supplies effortlessly, and Robby swallows, trying not to get too excited about it. 

Two pictures of a teenage girl in a gi. Maybe Sam. Probably Sam.

Then another older photo. Baby-faced Mr LaRusso, absolutely ecstatic, being lifted into the air by a crowd, accepting a gigantic trophy from… Robby’s dad. His hair looks absolutely stupid. He looks like Justin Bieber. Robby grins at the photo, and then bites his lip. He hasn’t seen any other pictures from the two of them around. Nothing more recent that would indicate there was ever anything going on. He’s obviously not with the mother of his kids anymore, but there’s still a picture of her around. But nothing of him and Robby’s dad on holiday or something.

That doesn’t exactly say amicable breakup. It says heartbreak. Just like he suspected. If Johnny Lawrence has one talent, it’s getting scared of a good thing and messing it up before it gets close. Robby hates being right.

He picks up the next picture on the shelf.

His dad’s in this one, too. That’s the first thing he sees – his dad in a black gi, an arm around a dark-haired kid right next to him. It’s the guy from the hospital, Miguel, raising a golden trophy into the air.

Robby himself is right next to Miguel. He’s holding a smaller trophy, camera catching the glint. Second place, he realizes. He’s not only doing karate. He’s good. His facial expression looks a bit pained, though. Robby wonders if he’s injured in this picture, or if he’s just a sore loser. The fact that he almost kicked Miguel down two flights of stairs over a girl really has him wondering about how honorable of a fighter he is. 

Then he looks further right. Daniel LaRusso is next to him with his arm around Robby, looking all proud and fatherly. And kind of sad at the same time. Wistful, maybe.

Robby looks over his shoulder to see if LaRusso is around, but he seems to have gone outside. The door on the left is open, revealing a vast garden under the darkening day. He puts the frame down and looks at the last one.

It’s a picture of Robby fighting. He’s in the middle of some move he doesn’t remember, and Daniel is sitting on the side, his face caught in utter concentration. His opponent isn’t in the picture, only a foot in a black pant leg that Robby is sort of dodging. But his dad is in the picture. In the background, looking at Robby. 

He doesn’t look indifferent, like Robby would have expected from the Dad he knew a year ago. He doesn’t look proud, like his dad’s sudden involvement might lead him to expect.

He just looks… really fucking sad.

Robby realizes two things at the exact same time.

The first: It’s because of him. Robby is the reason his dad is probably hanging out in a shitty apartment drinking his weight in beer right now. He’s the reason Mr LaRusso keeps looking so lost, looking at his ex and still searching for things Robby gave up on searching a long time ago. He’s the reason they're always fighting — because Robby chose to learn karate from LaRusso and not his dad, even when his dad was making an effort. He was trying and Robby didn’t give a shit and made everything worse. They broke up because of me.

The second: Fuck. I have to fix it.

Chapter Text

LaRusso billboard 

LaRusso is dad’s ex

Shoes off at the door

Gi = karate suit

Robby‘s list is looking rather short. When he goes to his room after the truly fantastic red curry to write down more notes, he comes up empty. 

The dinner was awkward because Robby felt so guilty he could barely talk to Mr LaRusso. He gets why he chose the way he did — honestly, the guy seems chill and responsible so far, which is more he can say of any other parental figure he’s had — but he keeps thinking of his father’s sad face in the photo. 

For a while, he lies in bed trying out PIN combinations on his phone. His own birthday. 1234. 4321. Even 0666, because God knows Robby’s had his share of edgy moments. Nothing works. Eventually, his phone tells him he’s tried too many times, and locks him out for three hours. Perfect.

He puts the phone aside and goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. While he's waiting out the three minutes, mouth filling with foam, he decides to explore the drawer underneath the sink. It's split in two, and it's very obvious who's using which half. Robby's has all sorts of random shit in it. A phone charger. A gigantic neon green highlighter. A pair of scissors. None of it triggers any memories.

Robby spits his toothpaste in the sink and looks back up in the mirror, hair still pulled back so he won't get toothpaste on it. His face looks the same. He always thought he'd look much older at seventeen; old enough to not be asked for his ID, maybe. But he looks the same. This is the same boy who dropped out of high school and almost killed a guy during a stupid fight. The same guy who fucked up his father's relationship with zero second thought.

He hesitates for a moment, then opens the drawer again.

*

He wakes up at six am because he needs a leak. On the way back to his bed, he can see that the door out to the garden is still open.

Did they leave that open last night? He goes over to close it and finds Mr LaRusso on the porch in a shirt and sweatpants, deeply concentrated and his arms half-lifted, slowly letting them drift through the air. What’s he doing?

He turns around as if he senses Robby, and lights up when he sees him standing in the kitchen. „You remembered.“

This is like the thing with the shoes, Robby realizes. His body is reminding him of things. Waking him up. „I do this with you, usually?“

„Every morning.“

„I’m not really a morning person.“

„Yeah, you say that a lot. Every morning, in fact. At six on the dot. This stuff doesn’t work at nine am or what ?“

Robby steps out onto the patio and watches LaRusso do a double take.

"Hey. You cut your hair."

"Yeah. Fresh start, I guess."

"Looks good."

Robby smiles. „So how does this work?“

They’ll have to wait for the Friday appointment to see if he's cleared for a proper workout. But according to Mr LaRusso, kata is like meditation and should therefore not be a problem as long as they take it easy. 

They’re ten minutes in and Robby‘s feeling more relaxed by the minute, when he’s suddenly gripped by the unstoppable urge to sabotage any progress on the inner peace front. „There’s usually no talking during this, right?“

Mr LaRusso pulls himself out of the current exercise and finished with a bow to nobody in particular. Robby hastily mimics him.

„What do you want to talk about?“

They sit on the edge of the deck side by side, looking out at the rising sun.

„That was nice,“ Robby says after a while. „You ever do that with my dad?“

LaRusso barks out a laugh. „He’d probably kill me if I suggested it.“

„Might do him some good.“

„I won’t disagree with you there.“

Robby looks at the grass. No reason for it to still be this green at the end of summer. He’s lived his whole life in areas where the rare, unkempt patches of grass dry out mid-June. He’s not a green grass kind of kid. Definitely not a green backyard kind of kid. This place took consistent effort and care to look like this. It’s pretty, but unsettlingly so. Like the cops will pull up any minute and pull him out of this life he’s undeservedly broken into.

He wants to ask Mr LaRusso a thousand questions. When did you get together? Why did you break up? Was I ever really rude to you?

But what he finally says when he gets his tongue to move is: “Did I not want to live with my dad or did he not want me to move in?”

“Robby, your dad... He cares about you. In his own way.” Which isn’t really an answer, except it definitely is. Robby is a gigantic asshole. Johnny Lawrence isn’t winning any prizes in the Dad department, but Robby definitely isn’t a model son either.

It’s not a nice feeling, not knowing who the asshole and who the victim is. Before he woke up in the hospital a few days ago, the roles were clearly distributed: Johnny was a shit father, and Robby didn’t need him anyway. And if Robby was being an asshole, he was only standing up for himself. It was justified. The situation was messed up, but simple.

But now, last year and this year are two semi-transparent pictures lying on top of each other, and Robby’s having trouble seeing a shape that makes sense.

How is he supposed to feel about all this? Angry? Guilty? Grateful? Is he really supposed to believe his life has changed so much in a single year, when it’s been the same for so long?

There’s probably no way to find out unless Robby reaches out to his dad. Find out how much has really changed. He can always tell himself “I told you so” if it doesn’t work. Not like he hasn’t been disappointed a hundred times over. Besides, he can't set his Dad up with anybody if he doesn't talk to him.

“Would you be okay with it if I went to his place?” he says cautiously. “I just mean every now and then. Obviously. It’s probably a bad idea anyway.”

LaRusso looks up at him with his big brown eyes. “Of course.”

“I just went from my dad barely remembering when my birthday is to him crying over me in the hospital. In a day. I guess I just want to find out what that means before he wraps his car around a tree or something.” This is stuff he normally wouldn’t say out loud. But LaRusso, his sensei, his ex-stepdad, has a way of just sitting there and the words come spilling out.

It’s weird. Robby isn’t sure if he likes it.

“Robby, I’ll drive you over today if you like.”

“You wouldn’t be mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Wouldn’t it be like… choosing sides or something? Or… I don’t know… going back and forth too much? I don’t want you to think I’m not on your side or anything. I don’t even know what happened during the last year, but I’m definitely not on his side.”

LaRusso raises his eyebrows. “He spent sixteen hours in the ER scared he’d wake up without you if he fell asleep.“

Robby bites his lip, cheeks suddenly burning. “Yeah. I guess.”

“I know you don’t have the best memories of him, I don’t want to discount that. For you, all of that happened a lot more recently than it did for us. But things are different than they were last year. Just promise me to keep an open mind, alright? Cut him some slack.”

Robby frowns. “Didn’t you kick in his door like three days ago?”

LaRusso opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“That’s a long story,” he finally says. “But yeah, point taken. Maybe I should start taking my own advice. I heard that’s a good quality in a teacher.”

This is just so weird. A week ago – a year ago, whatever – Robby got regular retellings of the old stories, but it never sounded like they were actually in contact. And now… all of this.

“How did you get back in contact anyway?” he says, letting his legs dangling like a five year-old. Kind of fitting, since he feels like he’s asking for bedtime stories here. “I don’t think you guys were speaking to each other last year.”

LaRusso’s serious face breaks into a smile. “Didn’t see him for thirty years, then his car got towed to my dealership. He was really pissed about it, too.”

“Wow,” Robby deadpans. “Meet-cute.”

LaRusso laughs. “My ex-wife said the same thing.”

"And then?"

"We just... kept running into each other. Couldn't seem to stay out of each other's way."

They sit in silence for a while as Robby debates asking more questions. He’s not sure if he actually wants to know all the separate courting stages. Knowing his dad, it probably involved beer and dick pics.

He decides to change the topic entirely. “When can you drive me?”

*

Two hours later, Robby and Johnny are sitting at a diner and having a breakfast that is almost as delicious as it is awkward. The seats are sticky and the coffee is awful – exactly how a good diner should be.

LaRusso dropped him off at Johnny’s apartment like a pet going to a doggy hotel over Christmas – with almost insulting caution. Johnny, barely awake and in the same shirt from yesterday, decided that "Good idea to finally cut that hair. You looked like Sir Lancelot" was an appropriate greeting, then murmured something about no food in the fridge and sped off with Robby before LaRusso could call into work and take him back home.

“So. You still live in that dump?” Robby says while picking through his hashbrowns for more bacon, but it comes out harsh instead of concerned.

His dad shrugs.

“And you lived there all last year?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

So either they lived separately even while married, which seems unlikely, or Johnny Lawrence actually had the guts to ask his new husband to move into a place with unreliable plumbing and half-naked women on the wall. Maybe Robby wasn’t the problem after all.

“Wow.”

The waitress comes by and tops up their coffee. Robby looks at his half-empty plate and clears his throat.

“About what happened at school. I heard you fighting in the hospital. I don’t think Mr LaRusso taught me to… I think that was all me.”

“You think or you remember?”

“Well, I remember he’s a good guy. We did this meditation thing–”

“Okay, Robby, just because someone’s polite, doesn’t mean they can’t also be a dick.”

Robby decides not to say anything to that, because ‘so what’s your excuse for being impolite and a dick’ doesn’t sound like great father-son bonding. Neither does ‘why did Miguel ask if you’d drive him to school before we left’. It sounds jealous and petty.

One of them has to be an adult here, and he knows who it’s not going to be.

"Yeah," he finally says. "I heard about your door. Anyways, my point is..."

I'm sorry for fucking up your marriage.

No.

I'm trying to be a matchmaker and I just realized I barely know anything about you.

Definitely not.

Robby clears his throat. “How’s your dojo?”

Yep, this feels just as awkward as when his dad used to ask him about school.

His dad stabs a waffle without looking up. “Not my dojo anymore.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Had a partner for a while, and now he’s decided he doesn’t really need my input anymore. My way or the highway. Shitbag.”

“Oh.”

Robby’s processing. His father was teaching karate, but now he isn’t. He was with Daniel LaRusso, and now he isn’t, and they were probably living at his dad’s place, but now Robby and LaRusso live at Miyagi-Do. And now there’s some third guy who’s stolen his dad’s dojo? He really needs to get some sort of timeline going. This is confusing as hell.

“You mean partner as in…”

Johnny looks so disgusted that Robby doesn’t finish the sentence.

Okay. Partner as in business partners, whatever. Which is honestly a relief. One is already a ridiculous amount of karate breakups to go through in a year.

“So what are you going to do now? Get a new dojo?”

“Miguel says I should, but I haven’t really…”

Yeah, no need to elaborate. He can’t afford it. 

Robby doesn’t really know what to say to that, so in a desperate effort to not make this outing a total failure, he asks, “Seen any good movies lately?”

This launches his dad into his usual speech about old movies and old music. He looks almost happy by the time he announces that “anything created in a year that has a two in the first digit is just garbage by default.”

“I was born in 2002,” Robby counters, and his dad looks so shell shocked that Robby immediately bursts out laughing. Johnny spends the next ten minutes sort of mumbling that ‘exceptions prove the rule, everyone knows that’ while Robby smugly drinks his coffee and says things like ‘oh yeah?’ and ‘really, how interesting’. 

He’s never had more fun watching his dad fuck up. 

And honestly, maybe that’s a start.

*

When Johnny drops Robby off at home, it’s still three hours until Miyagi-Do class starts, so Daniel should still be at work. Robby’s looking forward to the ultimate home alone experience – eating chips in bed while watching Youtube and ignoring his responsibilities. 

He should have amnesia more often.

But he’s barely stepped inside and taken off his shoes when someone knocks on the door. A woman. She’s pretty and willowy, holding a green folder and a few envelopes, and even though she seems familiar somehow, he doesn’t have the faintest idea who she is. 

She seems to know him though, because she smiles and says, “Hi, Robby.”

Suddenly, he knows where he’s seen her. 

“You’re Sam’s mom, right?” Her expression brightens, and he hastily adds “There’s a picture in the kitchen. Of when she was a kid.”

He doesn’t want to lead anyone on. Most of last year is still gone.

She hides her disappointment well. “It’s still good to see you back on your feet. I’m Amanda. We were all very worried about you, you know. Let’s hope the rest of your brain joins the party soon, hm?”

Robby grins. He likes her. That’s a fact, not a memory.

“I have your schoolwork from this week. Sam asked me to drop it off. And a couple of things for Daniel; he’s got back to back meetings today.”

“He’s not here yet,” Robby says, unnecessarily, because Amanda and Mr LaRusso work together. She probably knows better than Robby when her ex-husband gets off work. And before he’s recovered from that last stupidity, he blurts out, “Can I ask you something?”

Amanda looks a bit startled, but nods anyway.

“I started lessons with Mr LaRusso to piss off my dad, right?”

“Originally, yes,” she says carefully. She’s clearly been briefed on the puzzle piece thing. “Do you feel like that’s the reason you kept going?”

“No. Not really. He seems cool. And I think I was good at karate. I wouldn’t be that dedicated just for some… prank. I think.”

Amanda smiles at him, and Robby feels encouraged. He’s remembering things. He’s remembering right . But the next question is a bit more delicate, and even if Mrs LaRusso seems cool, it’s somehow even less easy-breezy than the absolute whammy of a question he asked ten seconds ago.

“You’re still close with him, right?” he says carefully. “Like, you two get along well? He tells you stuff?”

“Well, not as close as we used to be, of course,” she says. “We’re good co-parents. And nobody’s tried to run anyone over with a car. That’s a win in my book.”

“Okay, because I have another question.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk to…”

“No,” Robby interrupts, and she doesn’t balk at the rudeness of it. “Clearly neither of them wants to talk about it with me. Or each other.”

She smiles a little bit, a ‘you’re telling me’ smile. Johnny Lawrence and Daniel LaRusso are shit at communication. He doesn’t need to write that down as a memory. It’s clear as day.

“Ask ahead.”

“Did my dad break up with him because of the karate stuff? Me not being in his dojo? Or was it because I was with Sam?”

For a moment, she simply stares at him, open mouth and gigantic blue eyes. Robby feels like he did something wrong, but doesn’t know exactly what it is. Maybe she didn’t know about Robby and Sam. 

A shiver passes over him. Maybe she didn’t know about his dad and Mr LaRusso. Shit.

“Nevermind,” he says, already halfway out of the room.

“Wait,” she says, running a hand through her hair in confusion. “You're serious, aren't you?”

He turns around in the door and wrings his hands. 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say; it’s not my fault at all, divorce is about the parents and not the kids, I know. But I really think in this case it is. You get what I mean? My dad and I never had the best relationship, and I probably gave him a lot of shit in the beginning. And then I basically picked Mr LaRusso over him. As my teacher. Or father figure, or whatever. And started dating my stepsister!”

Amanda’s still just sort of staring.

Robby swallows. “I mean, I don’t need to tell you that, I bet you had a front row seat to that whole mess.”

She seems to suddenly shake off her haze. As Robby awkwardly stands in the doorway to the kitchen, she walks up, drops the envelopes on the table and gives him a big hug.

“Come here, kiddo,” she says into his hair, her voice failing to hide her smile. “Man, am I glad I came over.”

Robby doesn’t almost start crying, because he’s not a baby. He waits until the hug is over like the slightly emotionally stunted teenager that he is. Because yeah, he's trying to make things better now. But is it really because he wants to do a good thing for Johnny and Mr LaRusso? Or does he just want to escape his guilt? If you're only being a good person to make yourself feel better, does it even count?

"What if I only dated Sam to break them up?" he murmurs. "I mean, I don't remember anything. Maybe I was just using her! I don't know!"

"For what it's worth,” Amanda says firmly, pulling away and holding him by the shoulders, “from where I was sitting, it looked like you and Sam really liked each other. And the other stuff... I think that’s something you should probably talk about with your dad.”

“Which one?” Robby jokes meekly.

Amanda ruffles his hair and laughs on her way out.

So Mrs LaRusso doesn’t want to get involved, which is very adult and reasonable of her, except it doesn’t help Robby at all. LaRusso and his dad avoid the topic of their relationship as if denial will erase its existence. Fucking middle school shit.

Robby needs to call in reinforcements.

*

Miguel’s eyes go wide when Robby sits down at his lunch table the next day. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at home?”

Robby chooses to ignore his what-the-fuck expression and jumps right into it.

 “We need to talk. Look, I don’t know what happened all last year, so I need a man for the details. And I need someone who’s close to my dad.”

“Okay…” Miguel says, drawing out the ‘ay’ longer than necessary. “What for exactly?”

“We need to reverse the breakup. Get them back together.”

Miguel looks like he’s losing brain cells by the minute. “You wanna get… me and Sam back together?”

“No, dumbass. My dad and Mr LaRusso.”

“Your dad and… what? Back together? Like together as a… Like together ?”

Seriously, how dense is this guy? You’d think with how much he’s apparently hanging around his Sensei Lawrence , he’d get a fucking clue.

“Okay. Real slow for the last row. They were together. My dad dumped him, and now they’re both miserable. We need to set them back up.”

“They were banging ?” Miguel whispers, entirely too loudly to still be called a whisper.

Robby leans in. “Yeah, man! Obviously.”

“What the fuck ?”

“I heard them arguing about it. In my hospital room.”

“ What ?”

“They were together, but my dad was jealous that I’m with Miyagi-Do and that I get along better with Mr LaRusso, so he got pissed off and dumped him. You know how he gets. Poor me, LaRusso stole my girlfriend. He stole my trophy.” He slaps his flat hand on the table. “And now in his mind, LaRusso stole his whole kid!”

Miguel gasps. “Oh my God, that makes total sense!”

“Of course it makes sense. Why would I lie about this?”

“No, no, no, it’s like you said. You don’t even have all the details!” His voice finally dips into appropriately conspirative whisper levels. “When they met, Mr LaRusso fixed his car for free! And then later when it got set on fire, he bought him a whole new one!”

Robby knew about the Challenger, but free repairs the day they met? Okay. Meet-cute indeed. Robby whistles. “I knew it. I bet my dad was real pissed about it. Kept going on about not taking handouts?”

“Exactly! This explains everything! Why he’s so bad with women… Why he got back into karate… The whole rivalry thing was a sex thing! That one time he went to the hearing to get Cobra Kai back in the tournament, he put on a suit. Probably because he knew that your sensei was gonna be there!”

Now it’s Robby’s turn to stare like an idiot. “My dad put on a suit? Voluntarily? Geeze, he must have had it bad.”

“I mean, we were all wondering why Sam’s parents divorced, but… Wow. Now I get it. I can’t believe I didn’t – Ohmygod .” Miguel is suddenly almost hyperventilating. He slaps one hand on Robby’s arm. “One time, your dad climbed on one of the billboards and drew a giant dick on Mr LaRusso’s face.”

“Okay?”

“That was flirting !”

“I bet.” Robby makes a vomiting noise. “My dad is so fucking tacky.”

Miguel sinks back in his seat, open-mouthed, like he’s seeing the fifth dimension or something. Robby kind of feels for him. He doesn’t even want to know what he looked like when he realized in the hospital. 

Suddenly, Miguel is framed by a guy in a red mohawk and some other curly-haired guy. Robby’s never seen either of them before, but he knows this isn’t good. They must be from Miguel’s dojo. His dad’s… no, his dad’s former dojo.

“Everything okay here?” Mohawk Guy spits in Robby’s direction.

“Settle down, Hawk. We’re just talking.”

Hawk (seriously? Hawk?) leans across the table and tips over Miguel's strawberry milk right in Robby's lap. Robby barely has time to get his legs out of the way, and the entire left side of his jeans is suddenly soaked in pink droplets.

"I was going to drink that!", Miguel protests.

"Thanks, Hawk," Robby says snidely, wiping himself off with a flimsy napkin. "This outfit was definitely missing something. You ever thought about fashion school?"

"Don't even think you're getting off easy!" Hawk sneers. "You think you get to fuck with Cobra Kai and we'll just forget about it? You better watch your fucking back."

"Hawk. Seriously. Stop it." Miguel's on his feet now, holding him back, and Hawk struggles in his grip. Robby raises his eyebrows. With how sweet and starry-eyed Miguel comes off, he definitely would not have expected him to be this in charge of his buddies. Then again, first prize in a tournament probably gets you respect and bragging rights for at least a year. 

“This guy almost killed you!”, Hawk protests.

“Yeah, and I almost killed him," Miguel says, shrugging and grinning like he’s a big mafia boss generously making peace with his grandson or something. “Just lay off, okay? We have some private stuff to talk about.”

“What–”

Curly elbows Hawk. “Dude, they need to talk about the girl stuff!”

Miguel and Robby look at each other and decide to just let that comment stand. Probably the best way to get some privacy. And it works – the two Cobra Kais take off like someone announced free pizza on the other side of the school.

Robby looks after them. “They’re still with your old dojo?”

Miguel winces as he sits back down. “Everyone kinda is. Except Tory, who just sort of… fully quit karate. And Aisha moved, so…”

“Dude. Amnesia. I don’t know who any of these people are.”

“Tory’s my… Well. She was my girlfriend.”

Right. Miguel might have mentioned her in the hospital.

They fidget around for a few more seconds until Miguel, predictably, strikes first.

“We probably should, you know. Talk about the girl stuff.”

Robby doesn’t know what to say. His alleged girlfriend hasn’t called him. He hasn’t called her, either. Amanda was the one who brought his homework over. That’s enough to assume that Sam doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore, right?

“Okay, guess I’ll start. Tory dumped me over text.”

“Oh.”

“So… Are you and Sam… over?”

“I guess. I mean, LaRusso treats me like I’m one of his kids or something. Isn’t that kind of… karate incest anyway?”

Miguel snorts into his Sprite. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“We haven’t talked at all. But I bet once I join class again, it’s going to be awkward as hell. Not like I can avoid her if we’re both training in the same space.”

Suddenly, Miguel shoots forward again, pointing at Robby.

“Okay. Okay. I have a plan. For our senseis.”

“Really?”

“It’s perfect, except for one tiny thing.”

“And that is?”

Miguel winces. “The fact that everyone’s going to hate it."

Chapter Text

LaRusso seems less than enthusiastic when Robby asks, which only makes Robby more convinced that Miguel is right. Step one. Family Dinner.

„I’m just saying, we’re all going to the hospital anyways. We might as well get some food together. Right?“

„Your father and I…“

„You hate each other so much we can’t have one dinner together?“

„We don’t hate each other.“

Robby shrugs defiantly. „Okay. Call him then.“

He pretends he can’t hear every word through the thin walls. His dad answers on the first ring, sounding panicked, and for a minute or so, he can hear him shouting through the phone about „I thought this was an emergency!“

Robby snorts. Drama queen.

Then LaRusso brings up the dinner and he goes very quiet.

„Just once. For Robby’s sake. He feels like he’s picking sides," LaRusso says. A long pause, then „No, it doesn’t have to be sushi.“

*

The appointment at the hospital is uneventful. Robby answers questions and shows the doctor his notebook. They check on his swelling, and it seems to be roughly what they’re expecting. When the doctor says he’s making good progress, he can practically feel the exhale from both LaRusso and his father.

In the hospital parking lot, they all file into LaRusso‘s car. The pizza delivery guy is already at the dojo when they arrive, and Dad slaps a couple of bills into his hands before LaRusso even has his wallet out.

Robby rolls his eyes.

They settle on the deck in the garden because the weather is beautiful; it barely feels like autumn at all. For the first two bites, things aren’t too bad. Then LaRusso sets his pizza down on his plate and looks right at Johnny. „What are we going to do about Kreese?“

"Don't worry about Kreese," Johnny says stiffly. "I've got it handled."

„You don't have anything handled! You’re the one who brought him back in the first place!“

And immediately, the tentative peace is dead in the water. 

Dad‘s fist tightens on the floor next to him.

„He apologized. I was giving him a second chance. I didn’t know he’d go behind my back and teach that fucked up shit, I…“

„I did. Everyone did except for you.“

„Well, we can’t all be perfect Mr Miyagi.“

„Nobody‘s asking him to be perfect. You’re putting words in my mouth. If he truly wants to better himself, I’m glad to hear it, but he better do that far away from my family.“

“Why don’t you like Kreese?”

It takes Robby a moment to realize that he was the one who asked. 

LaRusso bites his lip.

“I mean, he’s the guy who’s running Cobra Kai now, right?“ Robby says. „So I get why Dad hates him. What’d he do to you ?”

The two adults look at each other awkwardly, like there’s too much history to be explaining it to Robby. And ironically, that’s the clearest answer Robby could get.

„He hurt Dad?“

His dad looks at his plate, pale all of a sudden. „He made a mistake.“

LaRusso’s voice is icy. „He choked you out in a parking lot for winning second place. God knows I’ve made mistakes as a teacher. But there‘s people who see nothing wrong with doing that to a student, and then there’s the rest of us who do. And I don’t think there’s a lot of room for redemption in between that.“

“He’s been through a lot—“

“I don’t care if his child abuse comes with a backstory. Truly couldn’t care less.”

LaRusso looks angrier than Robby thought he was capable of. Shit. This isn’t going at all how Robby and Miguel planned it. On the bright side, it’s very obvious that Mr LaRusso still cares about his dad. But it doesn’t sound like that makes a lot of a difference right now.

“Dad," Robby says quietly. “I won second place, too. If my sensei had choked me out for that, would you have been interested in his apology?”

They both look at him, then each other, the stupid private telepathy channel humming in the warm summer air.

Then Robby’s dad gets up — slowly, gingerly — and goes inside. 

“I got it," Robby says to LaRusso, and jumps up to follow him. His dad’s in the kitchen, pulling a bottle of beer out of the fridge with a surprised expression. 

“Did you buy these?”

“Well, I’m si–” Nope. Not any longer. Robby starts over. Turns out it seriously impacts the edge of your sarcasm if you can’t remember how old you are. “I’m seventeen. So. No.”

Johnny scoffs good-naturedly. “Like you don’t have a fake ID somewhere.”

“Can’t remember where I put it," Robby quips.

Johnny gives him a lopsided smile.

“I didn’t buy them,” Robby finally says.

“Huh.”

Robby doesn’t know how to explain that it makes him really hopeful and happy that his Dad wanted to forgive this weirdo who tried to kill him. Makes him think that whatever Robby’s done in the last year, his dad might come around. 

Like he’s not completely hopeless.

Instead, he just says, “So. What’s up, Dad?”

His dad fidgets with the bottle cap that he’s still holding. “You, uh. When you call me Dad, it usually sounds more… ironic.”

“Oh."

“It’s okay, man. Haven’t done a lot to deserve otherwise.”

They stare at each other quietly for a few seconds, shuffling around in place while their pizza slowly gets cold on the patio.

„He called me in the hospital.“

At first, Robby thinks he means LaRusso. 

„Said that it sounded like you had the killer instinct Cobra Kai needed, and to send you by if you woke up. I told him I’m not going to jail for him, so if he came near you, I’d make sure they wouldn’t find his body.“

Robby snorts with amusement.

„Yeah, that was his reaction, too.“

Something warm spreads in Robby‘s chest at the thought of his dad threatening to kill some old piece of shit who wants to recruit him for his bully dojo.

„Okay, but now you see why LaRusso feels like that, right? Why he didn’t want you to forgive him.“

„You're my kid. That’s different.“

You’re his ex that he still loves , Robby wants to say, but God knows his dad doesn’t look ready to hear that. So he shrugs and says, “But then why are you fighting? You both agree he shouldn’t teach kids and needs to be dealt with.“

„I guess.“

„So why is my pizza getting cold because of that asshole?“

His dad laughs. “Good priorities.”

He doesn’t tell Robby to not swear, which is somehow really funny because for LaRusso it seems to almost be autopilot.

They make their way out of the kitchen, but his dad holds him back by the shoulder. „I know you don’t really remember your training, but LaRusso wouldn’t do that to you. Too much of a pussy to choke anybody. Don’t worry.“

Robby rolls his eyes, not entirely sure if that’s the usual macho shit or a comment on intimate problems he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to forget. „Tell me you haven’t been talking to him like that for the last year.“

„What?“ He takes a defensive sip of beer. „He knows how I talk.“

"Jesus Christ."

Robby is seeing more construction sites by the minute. Kreese. The asbestos apartment. His dad‘s inability to be an adult for more than two consecutive minutes. How LaRusso always just seems to be waiting for an opportunity to go down to his dad’s level. 

It should be a relief that this isn’t just about Robby. But it honestly makes him feel like he has no idea what he’s up against.

When they step out onto the deck again, his dad awkwardly holds up the beer.

“You bought the good stuff.”

“You’re not that hard to shop for, Johnny.”

LaRusso is still buying his dad’s favorite beer. Robby knows this probably just means he’s trying to be nice for Robby’s sake, but it’s still sweet. And hella sad, honestly.

Robby can’t watch this for another year. He needs to bring out heavy artillery. 

So he waits until his dad has his mouth full of pizza before he asks, “So, are you seeing anybody right now?”

“Mmwat?” his dad chokes out between bites, which spirals into a coughing fit.

Robby shrugs. “I have amnesia. Don’t know if you heard. I kinda need to be updated on that stuff. Do you live with anybody? New stepmom? New stepdad?”

The coughing gets louder.

Robby looks over to LaRusso, who’s trying hard to hide a smile.

Finally, his father seems to have survived the ordeal of his teenage son asking him about his sex life. “Nothing you need to know.”

Robby frowns. “That doesn’t mean no.”

“Yes, it does. You’ve been to my place; you know why. I don’t have a… No.”

He takes another gigantic bite of pizza and looks away towards the yard.

Robby takes a sip of coke. LaRusso is amused and relaxed, his father is distracted and confused. Perfect opportunity to catch them with their guard down. Time for Step Two.

“I went to school yesterday to talk to Miguel," he says casually.

Both LaRusso and his dad look positively horrified at the thought.

Robby rolls his eyes.

“Relax. I said talk, not fight him to the death.”

The adults exchange a glance. Finally, LaRusso ventures an, “About what?” that sounds extremely constipated.

“Dojo stuff. I mean, you don’t want Kreese to steal your students, but you don’t really have an alternative to offer right now. The fact that he has the dojo automatically puts you on the defense, and… I mean, we all know you’re kind of shit at defense anyway.”

“Cheers to that," LaRusso grins, but his voice has no bite.

“Thanks," his dad barks. “Was this going somewhere or…?”

“Yeah. Miguel and I think you could just offer training here. At Miyagi-Do.”

The grin has vanished off LaRusso’s face. “Robby, I…”

“Think about it. Dad needs something cheap or… free , let’s be real. Yesterday at breakfast, you said you wished there was a way for both groups to see that the other side is not the enemy. What better way to prove that than training together?”

“Robby, that’s all nice and well, but last week at school, it was World War Three between you guys–”

Robby shrugs innocently. “Was it? I don’t remember that.”

“Not funny!" his father snaps. “And nobody’s going to come anyways.” 

“You don’t know that!”

“Kreese knows how to give struggling kids just the right amount of help that he can do whatever he wants to them and they’ll still somehow feel indebted to him thirty fucking years later. How do you expect me to compete with that?”

Robby bites his lip. Really sounds like this guy did a number on his dad. Miguel and Robby had agreed that their major problem would probably be LaRusso acting a little too patronizing and holier-than-thou about generously sharing the dojo, and his dad refusing out of spite. He didn’t expect this. His dad being insecure about nobody even wanting to join.

“Miguel’s going to come," Robby shrugs.

His father says nothing.

And that’s just rich. Years and years of his dad immediately backing off at the slightest resistance from Robby. And now his dad has gotten a whole replacement kid only to let him down, too. 

“Oh, right," Robby sneers, “you’re just going to give up on him because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Good idea. Much better than ours.”

“Robby," LaRusso says softly.

“No, yeah, that’s on me. I’ve forgotten how much you love to give up. Should change your motto to strike first, strike hard, no stamina.”

LaRusso lays a hand on Robby’s shoulder. “Robby.”

“I’m sorry.”

Another sentence that Robby only realizes is coming from him once it’s already out.

His dad looks up like he’s been punched in the face.

“We just thought it’d be a good idea," Robby admits, voice small. “Miguel wants to train with you, and I think you should train with somebody , because whatever you’re doing now is… We’re fucking worried, okay? Common ground. Whatever.”

“We can try," his dad finally says and looks away again. “For a week. If that’s okay with Miyagi Junior over here.”

‘Miyagi Junior’ looks like he’s not too sure what he’s getting himself into. But Robby’s apology seems to have destabilized him enough to say yes.

Robby takes out his new phone and writes his first message to Miguel.

ROBBY: Operation ‘two dojos both alike in dignity’ is on.

*

Robby is putting away the pizza cartons and beer bottles as LaRusso walks his dad out. And apparently, he really doesn’t come over a lot, because otherwise he’d know how thin the walls are. How you can hear everything.

The second the door shuts, his dad bursts out, “He thinks I’m going out with dudes.”

Of course the perceived attack on his masculinity is the only thing his dad remembers from the intense conversation they just had. Typical.

“Maybe he’s just trying not to assume things. He’s missing a whole year.”

Right. Robby bites his lip. It is kind of obvious what kind of backstory LaRusso and his dad have, but last year his father wasn’t out to Robby yet. And from the way neither of them talk about the past, it’s clear they’d rather pretend this never happened in the first place.

“Don’t read too much into it," LaRusso says after a while, slightly irritated. “And I hope you’re not really refusing to date because of your apartment.“ 

“It’d be a miracle if someone even made it that far," Johnny grumbles. "Miguel set me up on a couple of dates. I always fucked it up in the restaurant.”

Robby‘s mouth opens with betrayal, before he realizes that this must have been before the big school fight. Before Miguel even knew what was really going on.

Outside, LaRusso is laughing. “Well, you’re not the best at first impressions, I’ll give you that. Takes a bit of time to see your... good qualities.”

“My good qualities? Do I need to drive you back to the hospital?”

"I'll let you know if I find any, how's that?"

They both chuckle.

Robby’s pulse is climbing and climbing. Are they flirting ? Right outside the door? He really can’t listen to that. And at the same time, he can’t miss a second.

“Johnny.”

Robby quietly puts down the lid of the trash can and sneaks closer to the door.

Whatever comes next, it’s going to be–

“I didn’t know things were that complicated with Kreese.” LaRusso takes a deep breath. It’s like the Earth’s atmosphere has suddenly collapsed, and all the joy has vanished along with the oxygen. “My point still stands; he’s a terrible person. But I guess I understand that… if there was a time he really helped you through something, there’s a part of you that still feels like you owe him.”

“That’s… none of your business, really.”

Robby rolls his eyes.

“No, I guess it isn’t. But I just wanted you to know. Mr Miyagi was my idol. I trusted him so much that I would’ve let him do anything, and I would have believed it was for my own good. I was just lucky he actually was a good person.”

“Good for you.”

“Jesus, Johnny! I’m not trying to show off, I’m just… I’m apologizing. You told me about your family that night at the bar. I knew things weren’t rosy. I just didn’t make the connection. I’m sorry.”

“‘kay.”

LaRusso sighs.

“I told Robby to not always assume the worst about you. Maybe you could extend me the same courtesy. Just while your dojo is making a guest appearance at mine.”

A long silence, and then, “Apology accepted.”

Oh, this is worse than flirting. They still really care about each other. Even through the walls, Robby can feel the space in between them. Shit. This is kind of heartbreaking.

“See you at training," LaRusso finally says, and it sounds defeated.

Chapter Text

LaRusso doesn’t explain why they’re spending Saturday morning out on a boat in the middle of nowhere. At first, Robby thinks this is a meditation thing. He’s pretty sure they’ve been to some sort of lake before. For karate reasons.

But when LaRusso has unrolled his fishing rod and cast it into the water, he turns to Robby and says “Amanda said you had something to ask me.”

Robby’s entire scalp runs hot.

Shit. She did get involved. Just not in the way Robby expected. He blinks into the sun like that will somehow stop time.

“Did she say what this was about?”

Mr LaRusso shakes his head. “Just that it seemed important to you.”

My dad broke up with you and I know it was because of me, and it’d be really cool if you could give me a step-by-step guide on how to undo that.

How exactly do you start a conversation like that? Finally, Robby clears his throat.

“The divorce, would you say it was… mutual?”

Mr LaRusso looks confused for a moment, like he was expecting something else entirely. He settles back on the bench.

“Well, we agreed to say it was mutual. Sounds a whole lot better than saying I was unceremoniously dumped.”

Yeah, that checks out. Exactly what Robby expected.

Step two. Deep breath. He can fucking do this.

“If you had to… I know things are complicated and whatever, but if you had to boil it down to one reason; what would you say was the reason it ended.”

Please don’t say ‘you, Robby’. Absolutely anything else. Please.

“I was being immature.”

“You were being immature?”

“Well. You’ve seen me around your father long enough to know it doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Robby—“

“I know, no swearing. Sorry.”

Mr LaRusso lets his gaze wander across the horizon for a few moments. Tugs absent-mindedly at the fishing rod. “I did a few things I’m not proud of. Tried to keep him away from the tournament. The whole thing with the rent. Got way too invested in training with you… And last summer, all I was thinking about was the dojo. I was barely home…”

Robby nods slowly.

“So that was the catalyst. But I think, more than that… over time, it became clear we were better off as friends.” He tilts his head. “And as co-parents, of course. And that especially for our work relationship, it’d be better to just… put the past behind us and be able to laugh about it in five years.”

Co-parents.

He shouldn’t really be that surprised that Mr LaRusso thinks that way, considering he buys Robby food and clothes, gives him fatherly advice and drives him around all day, but it’s still surprisingly touching. And it’s the first time he’s said something like that out loud. 

Robby tries to hold on to the little bit of sparkling joy in his chest. It’ll help him through the rest of this conversation.

“So you think it’s better that way? Platonic?”

“Oh yes. A hundred percent. It was the right choice. Even if I wasn’t brave enough to make it myself.”

He sounds like he really means it. LaRusso’s a fantastic liar, too. Maybe this is where Robby gets it.

Because one thing is certain, you don’t check yourself out in the mirror like that before dinner with your ex-husband unless you’re hoping for some quick and dirty dessert. You don’t smirk that way while you’re calling someone you’re happy to be platonic business partners with. You don’t buy someone their favorite beer if you think the breakup was the right choice.

(Or maybe you do. LaRusso is a good host. But you certainly don’t walk them out with apologies that sound like ‘I still love you’.)

“I just…” Robby breathes and looks at where the fishing line vanishes into the water. “I was thinking it might have something to do with me.”

“Robby! No.”

LaRusso leans forward, nearly knocking over his water bottle, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes things just don’t work out. It had nothing to do with you. Okay? Absolutely nothing. Nobody blames you, I promise.”

Not entirely true. LaRusso and his dad might not, but that doesn’t mean Robby can let himself off the hook so easily. It still feels like an entire boulder is lifted off him. He’s not fighting their resentment, then. Just his own guilt.

“Okay.” His voice is barely audible.

“And, I mean…” LaRusso spreads his arms with a touch of gallows humor. “Give me some credit here. I’m grown enough to ruin my own marriage, don’t you think?”

Robby smile half-heartedly and tries not to meet his eyes.

“And how do you think… how do you think my Dad feels about all of this?”

“Johnny?” Daniel chuckles nervously. “Honestly, I don’t think he cares all that much. I mean. Why would he?”

I don’t think he cares all that much?

About a divorce he initiated? What kind of answer is that?

Jesus. He wants Johnny back so badly. God fucking knows why, but hey. Robby owes him. And he’s going to make it happen.

*

Two hours later, they’re back on land.

Robby busies himself playing trunk tetris with the cooler and the fishing equipment. LaRusso heads to the driver’s seat and fishes out his phone from the middle console. Probably calling somebody.

“Hey,” he says when the other person picks up. “It’s Daniel. Just wanted to say thank you. I just talked to Robby.”

Amanda.

Robby closes the trunk and heads to his seat. 

“Yup, I set everything straight. Really, thanks for letting me know so I could clear this up early. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. Seriously, I owe you.”

When he looks up to flash a brief smile at Robby, he sounds extremely relieved. Yeah. Checks out, considering how shocked he seemed that Robby blamed himself for the whole mess.

“Okay. See you later!”

LaRusso gets into the car and closes his door. “Do you want to come and get Frozen Yoghurt with Sam, Anthony and me this afternoon?”

Robby thinks of the impersonal green folder on the desk. The homework Sam’s collected for him before making her mom drop it off.

“Um. I think I’m good.”

He’s not ready yet to face someone he’s supposed to a) remember, b) have a crush on and c) be really mad at for kissing someone else. That sounds like the opposite of a fun weekend activity.

LaRusso nods. “Maybe another time.”

They’re halfway back into town when Robby’s phone rings. He knows it’s Miguel calling before he even looks at the screen. Besides his parents, he’s the only person who even has his new number.

“What’s up," Robby says.

“Hey. I had an idea. Say you wanna catch up on school and come by my place. Then you can update me without your sensei overhearing. And I… um. I have something to tell you.”

He sounds nervous for some reason.

“Okay. I’ll ask. I’ll text you when I’m coming.”

Robby hangs up the phone.

“Was that Miguel?”

“Yeah. He wants to help with my homework.”

“Huh.” LaRusso shakes his head. “It’s weird to see you two getting along.”

“Yeah," Robby teases. “Bet this whole amnesia thing is weird for you .”

He regrets it almost instantly, but LaRusso thankfully doesn’t look too sad. He just throws Robby a glance – almost irresponsibly long, considering he’s driving – and mutters “I’m just saying.”

“Well, I know plenty of people who have weird relationships with their high school rivals. So I guess that’s normal, right?”

“Touché”, LaRusso sighs. “We’ll swing by the dojo and pick up your homework.”

*

Miguel introduces him to his Yaya Rosa, who’s cooking up a storm in the kitchen while singing along to the radio. Then he unceremoniously plops down at the kitchen table.

Robby incredulously sinks down into the nearest seat. He assumed Miguel cared about privacy, considering he explicitly wanted to meet somewhere other than Robby’s house.

“First of all, wow," Miguel begins. "What you wrote about last night, I mean... Man, that sounded intense. The beer and the apologies and the thing about the 'good qualities'? Super cute." 

Robby looks up towards the kitchen, silently gesturing ‘we’re not alone’ .

“My grandma’s not a snitch,” Miguel says impatiently. “It’s fine.”

Okay then. Miguel’s house, Miguel’s rules.

"Anyways, I talked to my sensei this morning…” Miguel leans closer. “He told me we’ll be at Miyagi-Do next week. And I said ‘won’t that be awkward with everything that happened with LaRusso’. You know, keeping it vague. Seeing if he wants to share something.”

“Okay…”

“And he said ‘what do you mean’, so I said ‘you know, what happened last year’. And he was all like ‘well, he’s been driving me crazy all year, you have to be more specific’. And he didn’t say driving me crazy in a good way. We’re absolutely sure they were together, right?”

“I’m sure,” Robby says, shoving his alibi homework to the side so he can lean in closer. “We literally talked about it today. Mr LaRusso admitted they broke up. I mean, he also said he didn’t want my dad back and that was clearly a straight-up lie. And he didn't talk about it until I brought it up. So clearly it was some big secret. Probably because of the problems with Kreese, right?”

Miguel nods slowly. “Yeah, I can see that. I'm just still so confused that I didn't notice my Sensei was going out with somebody.”

Loud laughter from the kitchen.

Miguel turns around.

“What?”

“Ay,” Yaya Rosa says. “None of my business. Pero no te diste cuenta cuando tu sensei salió con tu mamá, entonces...”

“No. No way. What?”

Robby’s Spanish is so nonexistent he can barely order something at Taco Bell without embarrassing himself, but he can draw the necessary conclusions from ‘sensei’, ‘mamá’ and Miguel’s horrified facial expression.

Johnny went on a date with Miguel’s mom.

“When was this?” Miguel demands.

“La noche de la fiesta.”

Fiesta registers, too. The night of the party. The day before the school fight. Two days before Robby lost an entire year of hard drive. Why does Johnny insist on running his whole life like a goddamn telenovela?

If Miguel didn’t look so much like a wet dog, Robby would use this as an opportunity to say something like ‘see, I told you so’. Instead, he turns around to the kitchen.

“But there was no… um… segundo… no second date?”

Miguel’s yaya drops the spoon in the pan and leans conversationally against the counter, as if she’s been waiting to be part of this mission the entire time. “Your sensei was at the same restaurant.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively. “Maybe that’s why no second date, hm?”

Maybe. More likely because Robby and Miguel chose to have a battle to the death at school twenty-four hours later, and his mom was a bit concerned about Johnny’s influence. Either way, this is very interesting.

Miguel doesn’t look interested at all. He looks borderline traumatized. Like a toy that has run out of batteries mid-routine.

Robby clears his throat and turns back towards Yaya Rosa. “Tú… um. I’m sorry. My spanish… catastrofál.”

“Catastrófico ," she corrects absent-mindedly, but she doesn’t actually seem put off by his vocabulary. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Did you ever see him with… um. Daniel? Mr LaRusso? Together?”

She laughs briefly and says something to Miguel in Spanish.

“At the tournament, when they stepped onto the mat…” Miguel translates quietly, finally looking semi-alive again. “For a moment, she thought it looked like they were going to kiss. But she thought she was just a bit high.”

“I was," she says conversationally, and takes up her stirring again. “Miguel, dilé a Robby, no compres marihuana en la calle. Si eres curioso, ven por aquí, hago brownies… Ok?”

Miguel whimpers. “My grandma’s a drug dealer and my mom went on a date with my sensei. That’s great. Fantastic. Can we just…”

Yaya Rosa is still in the middle of protesting that she’s not a drug dealer when the door opens and a woman walks in. Presumably Miguel’s mom. 

Her hair’s long and curly, and even her obvious exhaustion can’t take away from her quiet, understated good looks. She looks sweet. Like a good mom. Exactly like a person who would throw something at the little asshole who almost killed her precious son.

Robby tenses when their eyes meet.

“You must be Robby," she says in a friendly tone, and Robby can tell she’s doing her best to be chill and cool and casual about her son’s mortal enemy having been elevated to dinner guest status.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

It kind of sounds like he’s apologizing for his name, but she seems to take his true meaning, and nods softly.

“I’m Carmen. Miguel‘s mom.“

This is actually going kind of okay. Maybe this won’t –

“Mom, did you go out with my Sensei?” Miguel bursts out.

Carmen raises her eyebrows, speechless for a moment, then looks over at her mother, exasperated. “Ay, mami! Really?”

“Mom, did you?”, Miguel is still horrified. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Same reason he didn’t tell you about Mr LaRusso," Robby says quietly. “In case it doesn’t work out.”

In case the wrong people find out. In case it complicates things. Robby is much less surprised that the relationship was a secret than that it existed at all.

Yaya Rosa gives her confused daughter the knowing glance of a woman proud to be in the inner circle. “Me dijeron que Johnny es un hombre ocupado. Salió también con el sensei de Robby.”

“Well, that explains a lot," Carmen says laconically. Then she drops her handbag on the ground and shrugs off her denim jacket. “Can I help you with dinner, mami? I think I need to chop something. Work was ridiculous today. Could you set the table, Miggy?” 

Miguel takes a deep breath.

“I actually have something to say." He looks over at Robby, hands restless on the table. "You tried to stop Tory. I’m the one who… Things didn’t really escalated until I… you know. Escalated them.”

Anger rises in Robby’s throat. He feels oddly betrayed, considering he’s barely known Miguel two days.

“Wh-- why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don’t remember,” Miguel murmurs. “But you will. I thought it’s better if I tell you, I just… I didn’t really find the right moment yet. Sorry.”

He wills himself back to the mornings on the porch; the calmness of kata. He can’t freak out right now, not in front of –

Robby looks up at Miguel’s mother and grandmother, then back at Miguel.

“This is why you wanted to meet here,” he says slowly.

“Yeah. Your house is made of paper. I didn't want your sensei to overhear and kill me.”

Carmen pointedly slams the knife down on the cutting board. “I could overhear and kill you.”

Miguel turns around, eyes wide.

“Mom, please don’t ground me! I need to go to training. If I don’t show up for my sensei, nobody will. Please!”

"That's not the argument you think it is." Carmen looks unimpressed. “Robby, I think it’s time you go home.”

“Don’t worry,” Robby hisses in Miguel's direction. He gets up from the table and grabs his folders. “I’m leaving.”

Miguel catches up to him at the door, because Robby took his stupid shoes off – because he always takes his shoes off, fucking muscle memory. All it’s done for him so far is keep him from dramatically storming off.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel stammers. “I— I didn’t—“

Robby finally manages to get his second shoe on and stands up again. He doesn't even know what he wants to say. He's glad that he finally has something to be angry at, something real that he's lived through instead of having to have other people tell him about it. But that doesn't mean he knows how to channel it productively.

He points a finger at Miguel.

“You help me pull this off, you’re off the hook. Okay? Only then. So you better find a way to show up.”

Miguel looks at him for a moment, then slowly nods.

“I will.”

*

Two minutes later, Robby rings his Dad’s doorbell. No sports means no skateboard, which means he has no way of getting home other than LaRusso, and he doesn’t really want to disturb him on his outing with his kids.

Johnny opens the door, sandwich in hand.

“Robby? Hey.”

On the TV behind him, there’s two very sweaty people rolling around on the ground. Robby frowns.

“Are you watching porn?”

“No.” Johnny looks back at the TV as if to make sure. “It’s wrestling.”

“He’s choking that guy out with his thighs,” Robby says. “I’m pretty sure that’s porn.”

“No, it’s not.” His dad, clearly more embarrassed by the second, grabs the remote and hectically slaps it around until the screen goes dark. “What’s up?”

“Can you drive me home?”

He must sense in Robby’s tone that something’s wrong, because he doesn’t balk at Robby calling Miyagi-Do home nor does he attempt to convince him to stay. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll get my keys.”

Chapter Text

Robby is still not cleared for karate, so when the first joint training comes on Monday afternoon, he’s awkwardly sitting on the porch with a lemonade. The Miyagi-Do students introduce themselves and tell them it’s great to have him back even if he can’t participate. Robby already knows he’ll have to ask them their names about twelve more times. Great.

He thought he’d be spending most of today trying to not make eye contact with Sam, but she hasn’t shown up to training at all.

Robby remembers Mr LaRusso mentioning that Sam got hurt during the fight, too. He wonders if he should find out her number and ask if she’s okay. But if it was bad enough for her to avoid karate entirely, she probably wouldn’t want to talk to him about it after everything that’s happened. And Robby wouldn’t know what to say anyways.

As predicted, Miguel is the only ex-Cobra to show up for training with ‘Sensei Lawrence’. Robby can tell how disappointed his dad is, but in all honesty, it’s a fucking miracle he’s convinced his mother at all. Miguel gives Robby a cautious thumbs up. Step one, proximity.

Too bad that step two of their plan so far comes down to ‘if they see each other more than once a week, they will immediately fall back in love and we won’t have to do anything at all’.

Robby ponders all throughout the lesson how they could speed this up.

Lock them in a room and refuse to let them out? Right now, they’d probably just kill each other. He needs to somehow make sure they’re ready to not only be vulnerable but also to be vulnerable with each other , which is a whole Rubik’s cube of a problem.

So far, the pattern of their interactions seems to be pretty clear. One of them does something – anything – the other one immediately interprets it through the worst possible lens and it ends with them flinging accusations at each other. Within the first half hour, they fight over the noise level of Johnny’s instructions (“This is karate practice, Johnny, not the Superbowl!”), the lack of sparring space that isn’t bumpy grass (“How is Miguel supposed to practice his kicks, huh? How are your little cranes going to do their little kicks if they all have a sprained ankle tomorrow?”) and the number of curse words per minute that come out of Johnny’s mouth (“There are children here! Could you tone it down to two expletives per sentence at least? Is that too much to ask?”).

There seem to be unpredictable bright spots where they’re on the same page for a minute or two, but Robby sees no pattern to them. They’re not acting any less childish with each other than last week. Five minutes ago, Johnny literally threw an acorn at LaRusso while his back was turned.

Middle. School. Flirting.

Maybe Robby should just tell his dad that LaRusso called him a pussy and dared him to go out with him again? 

During the break, Miguel comes over with his water bottle, and immediately, two Miyagi-Do students come over and step in between him and Robby.

“Hey," Robby says. “Relax. I got it.”

“I know you have amnesia," a skinny dark-haired guy says, “but this is the guy who…”

“Kissed my girlfriend? Punched me in the face a bunch of times? Like I said. I got it.”

“If you say so," the guy says, clearly brainstorming what other kinds of brain damage Robby might have. “Don’t call me when you’re disemboweled on the highway. No offense, Miguel.”

“None taken”, Miguel sighs. “Good to see you too, Demetri.”

The Miyagi-Dos move a few steps away to hang out on the other side of the deck, and Robby looks up at Miguel. He doesn’t know what he feels towards his partner in crime today. He’s mad at Miguel for keeping the fight going. And he’s mad at himself for almost finishing it forever. He’s mad at Miguel for kissing Sam and thereby pissing off his own girlfriend enough to start a mass brawl. He’s mad at himself for taking let’s-piss-off-my-Dad lessons with Mr LaRusso and getting involved in all this karate madness in the first place. He’s mad at his Dad and Mr LaRusso, both separately and together. He’s mad at his mom for not getting her life together sooner. He’s mad at Kreese who he’s never even met.

Robby hates having complex emotions. He can barely deal with the straightforward ones.

“What?” Miguel finally says. He looks like he isn’t too sure what he’s feeling either.

“Stop looking so guilty,” Robby snaps. “It’s suspicious.”

“Sorry.”

Robby turns back towards the garden. “Okay, at least they’re both here. Any idea for how we get them to…”

“Hm.” Miguel squints over to the big tree, where LaRusso and his dad are standing and arguing, probably about flying acorns. “Handcuff them together?”

“Catch my dad on a bad day, he’ll probably cut his hand off.”

“Yeah, good point.”

“We could… get them really drunk?” Robby suggests.

“And then?”

“And then hopefully they’ll take care of the rest?”

“Why do all of our plans sound like that?”

“Because we don’t have enough information.” Robby frustratedly kicks the grass. “I’m with LaRusso all day, you’re with my dad all day, but we still don’t know anything about how to get them to seduce each other. We don’t even know what they used to fight about.”

They look back over to the tree. LaRusso bends down, picks up an acorn and throws it at Johnny’s forehead.

Miguel sighs. “You sure?”

Demetri shows up to get his water bottle and immediately vanishes again as if chased by a bee. The other Miyagi-Dos are still confusedly chatting at the other end of the deck, looking over at Robby every twenty seconds or so.

Miguel looks rather lonely on this side of the garden. Even though Robby’s still not entirely sure what to think of him, it’s honestly kind of metal to come here all by himself – a place full of trained fighters who don’t like him. 

Miguel seems to be good at karate, from what Robby can tell from the trophy picture, but there’s a strength in numbers that…

He slaps Miguel’s arm. “I’ve got it.”

*

Robby is pretty sure a movie night with Miguel and his dad is the worst idea he’s ever had – right until Johnny gets outvoted by Robby and Miguel who both want to see Fellowship of the Ring. That wasn’t even planned, but his dad’s outrage is so dramatic that Robby immediately doubles down and pretends it’s his favorite movie ever.

“I’m not watching that nerd shit!” Johnny protests.

“Yeah, you are." Miguel switches the channel back to Bilbo Baggins’ birthday party. “Triple Feature. Democracy has spoken.”

“You two little gummy bears aren’t even old enough to vote! Can’t believe this shit.”

But Johnny settles down between them and gives them a can of coke each. Robby subtly checks the expiry date. Two years ago. Yeah, that makes sense.

The plan’s not the worst: it’s two against one, and his dad will definitely not be sober by the end of the night. Miguel’s mom is working late and has no idea he’s even here, so they can interrogate him all they want. Miguel’s gonna be the good cop – obviously – but his dad has only just opened his first beer, so it’ll be a while until they can start quizzing him. 

Instead of getting drunk, however, he won’t stop droning on about how bad the movie is. Rather expectedly, he calls Sam a pussy for not asking Rosie to dance, then complains that Merry and Pippin were just ‘trying to shake up the lame party’ and that Aragorn ‘thinks he’s hot shit with that mystery act’. 

Robby knows he will definitely ruin the Mount Doom scenes to complain about how Frodo should have taken an eagle taxi to Mordor. It’s annoying, but honestly also entertaining. Like a parody of a director’s commentary.

When Arwen calls the river horses to take out her pursuers, he actually yells out ‘Yeah! No mercy!’, so he doesn’t seem to hate it entirely. 

As the Fellowship is finally leaving Rivendell, his dad blurts out, “So Tom Bombadil isn’t in this at all? Who the hell directed this garbage?”

That’s when the evening goes from good to great.

“You read it?” Miguel blurts out. 

Robby immediately backs him up. “You think watching Lord of the Rings is nerd shit, but you read the whole five million pages?”

“No! Shut up. I… I had it on cassette…”

Robby and Miguel laugh so hard they can’t hear any of the dialogue. Johnny stands up to take a bathroom break, threatening bodily harm to anyone who brings this up again after his return.

When he sits back down, he’s mercifully quiet for the next few scenes, until Boromir and Aragorn get in a fight. Johnny immediately chugs his beer and calls Aragorn a rich entitled asshole.

Robby grins at Miguel conspiratorially. 

“Yikes," Miguel mouths back.

“So true," Robby loudly and dramatically agrees. “Gondor’s been fine without him for centuries. Nobody asked for his help.”

“Exactly!”

“Nobody needs his free cars and free dojo and–”

Miguel bursts out laughing first, and Robby loses it immediately after.

Johnny scowls. “I’m throwing both of you into a volcano.”

*

It's just like Robby's luck that the one time he actually wants one of his parents to be drunk, they won't do it. His dad only drinks two beers during Fellowship of the Ring, which means the drunk interrogation is a total bust.

It’s still a fun night. Weirdly effortless, considering everything that happened.

But then Miguel goes to the bathroom halfway through Two Towers, Battle of Helm’s Deep in full swing, and with just Johnny and Robby left, the mood is immediately awkward. Robby can tell that his dad is thinking about something.

Finally, Johnny turns to him.

“Why did you ask if I was dating men?”

Robby knows the next thing he says is very, very important. He could go the provocative route and ask his dad if he’s really going to deny liking men after a whole fucking marriage to his high school rival. He could tell him that it’s okay or whatever, and he can tell Robby anything, like you’re supposed to. (Or maybe that only applies the other way around.)

Robby has no idea how his dad came out to him the first time around. Probably just showed up with Daniel and went “This is my husband” with that little stubborn set to his mouth, like he’s expecting to be challenged.

Robby has no idea how he reacted. Probably not all that well.

It’s better if he just pretends not to care at all. Like it doesn’t matter either way, and nothing’s changed, and Johnny doesn’t need to talk about it anymore – since that’s clearly what he wants.

So Robby just shrugs and says, “Kinda obvious, right?”

Johnny bites his lip and doesn’t look away from the TV. There’s a whole Lord-of-the-Rings length novel of silence between them, and Robby tries hard not to look at his dad. 

Did he do better this time around? Is this the version where his father doesn’t fuck it up, and Robby doesn’t retaliate because he’s hurt?

“And, I mean… sounds like you’re not getting laid in general, so it doesn’t really matter who’s turning you down, does it?”

His dad lets out a bellowing laugh. “How the fuck do you survive in a self defense dojo with a mouth like that? I’m pretty sure that was a war crime right there.”

“Come on.” Robby chuckles. “The real war crime here is that you made me watch you and LaRusso hate-flirt for two hours straight.”

His dad chokes on his beer and immediately gets caught up in the most unconvincing denial Robby’s ever heard. “LaRusso would be the last person I’d ever… like even if I…” He clears his throat. “Did he put you up to this to mess with me?”

I remember , Robby almost says. You don’t have to lie. I remember.

But he guesses they’re not there yet. You don’t undo years of tense interaction with one good movie night. God knows Robby isn’t being honest with his dad, either. He could just ask what happened with LaRusso. He could stop the scheming and conspiring and manipulating and just tell him that he heard about the divorce. 

But he’s not ready to hear how he factors in. Back in the hospital, it felt like utter shit, finding out what he almost did to Miguel. He doesn’t want to hear a year’s worth of highlight reel moments of Robby Keene Being A Fuckup. Maybe the amnesia was a blessing.

By the time he remembers for himself, he wants to have already fixed all his mistakes.

Maybe that’s not mature or whatever, but it’s better for everyone that way. Nobody has to relive twelve months of Robby being an antagonistic little jerk. Johnny's and LaRusso's was probably a really fucking weird marriage, but a seemingly happy one considering how much its loss seems to be weighing on both of them. And the adults can blame themselves all they want, but Robby knows that whatever he did last year -- even if it didn't break them up -- definitely didn't bring them closer together.

Robby gets up to look for another can of coke.

“Don’t have a stroke, man. I’m joking.” 

*

Miguel goes home after Two Towers. It’s long past midnight, and it’s honestly ridiculous his yaya allowed him to stay up so long on a school night.

Robby and Johnny continue with Return of the King, only half-heartedly paying attention. Robby slides down further and further on the couch. Not even the countless cans of coke can keep him awake at this point. 

Later, Robby wakes up, his whole body warm and heavy. 

When did he fall asleep? 

The movie is still running, but the TV’s on silent. Frodo and Sam are lying on the side of Mount Doom in a rising sea of lava, talking about something Robby can’t quite make out by lip-reading alone. He blinks tiredly and reaches to turn off the TV when his hand gets caught in a duvet.

Someone’s put a blanket over him.

Chapter Text

Tuesday morning passes rather uneventfully. Robby tries to catch up on math with middling success, skims through the poetry collection they’re reading in English class and tries PIN codes on his old phone whenever it lets him.

Around lunchtime, Robby’s trying to find some juice in the fridge and not having a lot of success. He’s grateful for the distraction when Miguel calls. 

“Hey! Did you get anything out of him while I was in the bathroom?”

“Not really. I told him he’s always making heart eyes at LaRusso and he was all like ‘Me? How dare you.’ Like a total baby.”

Miguel laughs.

“Is he picking you up from school today?”, Robby asks. “You could take over the interrogation. Maybe we need some more good cop questions.”

“Nope, I’m taking the bike. And I got a year’s worth of homework so I don’t even know if I can make it to training. History is kicking my ass. I keep getting Henry’s wives mixed up. It’s not enough that you had a million of them, they all gotta have the same name, too?”

There’s only a puddle of orange juice left in the bottle he’s found. Robby sighs as he unscrews the lid. He’s not doing this for Miguel, he reminds himself. He’s doing it for his Dad. 

“I can help you with that,” he finally says. “Bring it to training.”

“You’re a history guy?”, Miguel says skeptically.

“I used to stay up late waiting for my mom to get home. Lots of documentary reruns.”

Which is kind of a pathetic reason to be good at history, but thankfully Miguel doesn’t comment on it.

Robby wanders over to the tournament pictures and looks at the one of LaRusso with Mr Miyagi as he chugs the rest of the juice. Everyone in the background seems to have been involved in a secret competition to win a prize for the weirdest haircut. The realization comes to him out of nowhere.

“Motherfucker!” he whoops. “Of course!”

“What?” Miguel says eagerly. “You sound like you have a lead.”

“I have something much better than a lead,” Robby grins, taking the picture off the wall and squinting at the girl who’s half-visible at the edge of the picture. “I have an eyewitness.”

*

It honestly didn’t take too long to find her. Both his Dad and Mr LaRusso are Facebook friends with her, and she accepted Robby’s friend request after only a few minutes. Jesus, man. Boomers really have no concept of internet safety.

He thinks about what his first message should say, and then decides to keep it short and relatively plot-twist-free.

ROBBY: Hi. You don’t know me, so I’m sorry if this comes out of nowhere. I’m Robby, Johnny Lawrence’s son. 

She writes back almost immediately. Maybe she’s also on her lunch break.

ALI: Nice to meet you, Robby. Is this where you tell me I knocked him up and you’re my kid? Cause I don’t think it works this way around.

ROBBY: Lol. Nope. I know this is going to sound absolutely crazy but my friend and I are trying to set him up and we were hoping for some advice.

ALI: That’s adorable, but I haven’t seen Johnny or spoken to him in thirty years. I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask.

Robby takes a deep breath.

Here goes nothing. Let’s hope she doesn’t block him.

There’s really no way to type this that won’t make him sound crazy. He might as well go for it.

ROBBY: We’re setting him up with Daniel LaRusso. You dated both of them, right? I figured if anyone had any intel, it’s you.

ALI: 😂😂😂😂😂😂

ROBBY: I’m dead serious, Mrs Mills.

ROBBY: Mills-Schwarber. Sorry. You only had one last name in their stories.

ROBBY: Are you there?

ROBBY: I swear I’m not kidding

She doesn’t answer. Two minutes of impatient pacing later, the little icon next to her picture goes gray. She’s offline. 

Robby groans. Yup, just as he feared. She thinks he’s pranking her. Not that he blames her. It is a rather unhinged message to get from your ex-boyfriend’s teenage son.

He’s in the middle of frustratedly making himself a pizza bagel when a ‘new message’ icon suddenly pops up. Robby grabs his phone so eagerly he nearly slaps it into the toaster.

ALI: I’m here 

ALI: You know the crazy thing is, I was thinking “Set up Johnny and Daniel? But they don’t have anything in common except karate and music and cars and being obsessed with each other”… and then I had to make myself an espresso. So you’re serious? They’re still in contact?

Robby grins victoriously and falls back down on the couch.

ROBBY: They run a dojo together.

ROBBY: Well. Two dojos in the same place. As “friends”. While they’re trying not to check each other out. It’s ridiculous.

ALI: This is hysterical.

ROBBY: And I haven’t even told you the best part. They eloped last year. They’re divorced again, and they won’t talk to me about it. Now I wanna set them back up. See if they can work it out.

ALI: Wow.

ALI: I don’t even know what to say to that.

ALI: Just… wow.

ROBBY: So… any advice?

ALI: Kiddo, you just told me two of my exes who acted like mortal enemies as long as I knew them ELOPED and you’re expecting me to string a sentence together?

Fair. She’s honestly taking this rather well, all things considered.

ROBBY: Sorry. This must be pretty weird for you.

ROBBY: Please don’t talk to them about it. I just overheard by accident. Barely anyone around here knows.

ALI: Okay. Let me think. Johnny used to like mixtapes. Since everything’s digital now, I don’t think that’ll help.

ROBBY: Oh, you’d be surprised. My dad still lives in the 80s. 

ALI: You know, I can see that. Anyways, he loves compliments. If I told him his hair looked nice, he’d be on cloud nine all week. It was adorable. 

ALI: And Daniel loves to be helpful and teach you things. Maybe not soccer. That ended rather badly last time. Lol

Robby doesn’t really know what she means, but before he can ask, another message pops up.

ALI: Guess you had to be there.

ALI: And if Daniel still loves cooking… well, I know he always loved it when someone did it for him. Made him feel taken care of.

ROBBY: No dice. My dad can’t cook.

ALI: Barbecue?

ROBBY: You know, that’s actually a great idea.

A dojo barbecue! That sounds killer, honestly. And it's exactly the kind of thing Mr LaRusso will agree to in the name of dojo cooperation -- without even knowing it's a total setup to make him fall back in love with Johnny. 

ALI: I’m not sure any of this was helpful, but I do expect a wedding invitation if you pull this off.

ROBBY: Sure thing!

ALI: I’m serious.

ROBBY: Same here. Thanks a million.

Robby immediately texts all of the suggestions to Miguel. Playlist, compliments, barbecue. They’re all tangible, realistic suggestions.

Hot damn. They might actually pull this off.

*

That afternoon, Miguel’s still alone on his side of the yard. Robby’s sure that the new “Eagle Fang” shirts aren’t really helping with recruitment. He’s not exactly top of his class, but he’s good enough in biology to know birds don’t have teeth. 

“Is this a Lord of the Rings reference?” Robby asks loudly when his dad hands Miguel a red T-Shirt, even though he knows it’s very unlikely the shirts got ordered and printed within the last twelve hours. “Middle Earth Eagles, saving the day?”

LaRusso perks up on the other end of the deck and walks over. “Oh yeah, your movie night! I heard about that. Nice.”

“It’s not nice, it’s badass," Johnny says and throws a shirt in Robby’s face. “Why is everyone I hang out with such a snitch? What’d you tell him, huh?”

“I’m right here," LaRusso remarks.

“That Aragorn’s your favorite character," Robby says, throwing the shirt back. That you almost had a stroke when I told you that you clearly still want to bone him.

Johnny looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Jesus Christ. That man cannot be subtle to save his life. Was it always this obvious? How did this remain a secret for so long? Does everyone in the Valley just need to go to the optometrist really badly?

“I’m glad you had a good time," LaRusso says pleasantly.

“Oh, Miguel and I did," Robby says. “This guy, not so much.”

“What do you mean, where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?” Miguel’s Pissed-Off-Johnny impression is incredible. “In Gondor, asshole! Holding the line. Keeping orcs out of your backyard. Where was Rohan when Osgiliath fell, huh? That’s what I’d like to know!”

LaRusso’s mouth twitches with a suppressed smile. “Well, we all know Johnny’s at his happiest when he’s allowed to complain to his heart’s content.”

It still has the familiar tinge of teasing, but Robby thinks it’s actually kind of a sweet thing to say.

For a moment, it looks like Johnny’s going to blush, then he turns away toward Miguel. “Why don’t you go back to your side, LaRusso,” he snaps. “Stop hanging around like you’re my parole officer. We’re busy over here.”

Robby looks down on the mind map about Henry VIII’s wives that he’s been drawing for Miguel. 

If this is Johnny’s reaction to being flirted with, they have their work cut out for them. He thought the biggest challenge was find a subtle way to get LaRusso to compliment Johnny more, but it honestly might be getting Johnny to admit he likes it.

Moving on. They’re starting with a different technique first. Maybe with the playlist they can soften him up a bit.

*

“Hey”, Robby says to LaRusso about ten point five seconds after the last student files out. “I had an idea.”

LaRusso raises his eyebrows. “Does the idea involve leaving the country in the next five minutes or can I get changed first?”

“Course. Sorry.”

He waits until LaRusso comes back outside with two cups of tea and sits down on a lawn chair beside him. “So? Let’s hear it.”

“Why don’t you make a playlist?”

“What?”

“For my Dad. I mean, he always looks so sad that Miguel’s the only person showing up. If you just made him a playlist, like, on a CD… I think that’s a small thing to do that would really cheer him up. And he’s going to bring music sooner or later, you know he will. This way you have control over what’s playing.”

LaRusso takes a sip of tea, pondering. “That’s not a bad idea. Why am I making the playlist?”

“Cause I don’t know what music he’s into and you do.” 

He sighs. “Cause we’re both dinosaurs. Got it.”

Robby points at the mind map. “And because I have homework! Oh, also. I was thinking maybe we can have a dojo barbecue sometime, once Eagle Fang has more students. Miguel says my dad’s really good at barbecue. Could be, you know... Something nice to do together. Team-building.”

LaRusso studies his face for a moment. “You’re all aboard the reconciliation train, aren’t you?”

Robby shrugs. “So what do you think?”

LaRusso looks out towards the pond and pensively tilts his head. “Well, we definitely have the space. And I think one last barbecue before the winter is a nice idea. Next week could work. Or the week after, maybe.” He drinks another sip of tea. “Long as I don’t have to invite John fucking Kreese.”

Robby raises his eyebrows. “I thought we don’t swear at Miyagi-Do.”

LaRusso scowls at the tree like it has deeply wronged him.

“That man is lucky that swearing is all I’m doing to him.”

Honestly, playlists and compliments aside – If LaRusso went over to beat up Kreese to get revenge for Johnny, that might be the single most erotic thing anyone’s ever done for his dad. It’s also going to be a fucking disaster for everyone in the Valley. So. Bad plan. Obviously. Just saying.

Robby finishes his tea and squints at the leaves at the bottom of the cup, trying to make out a pattern. The biggest blob looks a bit like a skull. He wonders if that’s a good omen. 

*

The next morning, there’s a CD on the counter that says ‘Johnny’s Dojo Playlist :)’. Robby nearly jumps out of his skin. He absent-mindedly starts on his own history homework, but the second that LaRusso is out the door, he grabs the cover and flips it over. 

There’s a tracklist. Handwritten . Fucking bullseye.

It’s not written in glitter gel pen with hearts over the i’s or anything, but it’s still effort. It’s still a lot to do for a guy you were in a literal fistfight with a week ago. He skims the list and finds a few songs he recognizes and a few that he doesn’t. Then he snaps a picture with his new phone and carefully places the CD back in its original position. 

A dozen song lyric tabs later, it turns out that none of the songs are all that romantic, which was to be expected. Robby nevertheless sends the picture of the CD to Miguel, including no less than twenty exclamation marks.

ROBBY: handwritten! tracklist! are you kidding me!

ROBBY: do you think my dad will like the songs?

MIGUEL: perfect. this is a subtle “i like you” but nothing too crazy that would scare him off.

MIGUEL: we need to look at how he reacts when he takes it. like is it a polite we’re-being-nice-for-the-kids thanks or is at an awkward thanks or is it a “…thanks”

ROBBY: what’s the last one?

MIGUEL: like… a thanks where you can hear the dot-dot-dot

MIGUEL: trust me, you’ll see what i mean

Robby reluctantly goes back to his math homework. It’s not too complex, but the workload is exhausting. Becoming a better person with a Decent Future™ and a Stable Family™ involves a lot more algebra than he expected. No wonder people have such trouble with it.

The rest of the day flies by and before he knows it, Mr LaRusso comes home from work. He’s bought new matcha and is really excited about the quality. Robby isn’t entirely sure if he’ll like it – it looks almost too green – but when he takes his first sip, his eyes go wide. 

“I’ve had this before.”

“Yes.” LaRusso puts his own cup down, looking surprised.

Robby hasn’t had a new memory come to him in days. He takes another sip, a forest taking shape before his eyes. Glittering water. His knee hurts, his forearm is scraped. A gigantic fallen tree.

“We’ve had this before,” he corrects himself. “By the lake, in the forest with the big tree. You brought this in a thermos. Matcha.” 

More pictures from that day come back. Standing on the tree. Praticing kicks on the tree. Mr LaRusso talking about hockey results. And, finally, his first memory of Sam. ‘Good luck with the tree,’ she says and grins, standing in a nice backyard with a pool. Robby remembers finding her pretty. He also remembers not dating her at that point yet.

Another sip, and another facet of the memory unfolds. “I asked if we could make a matcha latte next time,” Robby says. “And you looked at me like I’d committed a murder or something.”

“I just couldn’t believe you liked it but wanted to…”

“... ruin it with milk,” Robby finishes with a grin. “Yeah.”

The relief in the room is palpable. The well hasn’t completely dried up. Almost a whole day came back. With details. With quotes!

This is exactly the mood he needs Mr LaRusso to be in for the playlist later. He should probably also tell his Dad. Actually, this might be a genius move. Robby’s finally starting to see connections. Both Johnny and LaRusso were so excited during his Friday appointment when the doctor said his progress was coming along nicely. If Robby’s doing well, then they’re both in a good mood, and that means whatever Robby and Miguel throw at them next has a much better chance of actually working.

His well-being is the key to them getting along, which means his memories are the key to this plan. Whenever he remembers something, he’ll have to hold it back and drop the information right before the next matchmaking attempt so they lower their emotional defenses. Finally this plan is starting to have some actual strategy! Robby finishes the rest of his matcha latte on the deck, writing in his amnesia notebook. His mood is so fantastic it should honestly be illegal.

Not even the early arrival of three Miyagi-Do students can bring him down. Robby awkwardly nods at them, hoping his busyness will keep them from coming over and expecting him to do smalltalk. The guy from yesterday lifts his hand in greeting. Demetri.

As if the universe has conspired in his favor today, Johnny shows up early, too.

(Only two minutes early, which is borderline late if you're the teacher, but Robby will take what he can get.)

“Hey Dad, I remembered something,” Robby blurts out instantly, getting out of his chair. “Mr LaRusso took me to a lake last year. For meditation and some other exercises. I think I have almost the whole day back!”

“Nice.” Johnny grins at him. “That’s really cool.”

“Oh, hey Johnny!” 

As if on command, LaRusso slides the door open, CD in hand. He still looks happy. Matcha memory happy. Oh fuck, this works well. 

“Before I forget,” he says. “I made you something. I was thinking, you can have an hour on the CD player for the warmups and quicker exercising. And the second hour we’ll just do some peace and quiet to wind down.”

Johnny shoots a brief look to Robby, then over to Miguel. Finally, he reaches out for the case and flips it over. Like he knows there’s going to be a tracklist. Robby raises his eyebrows.

“This is good stuff”, Johnny finally says halfway down the list.

LaRusso shrugs and grins. “Of course it is. I’ve never made a bad mixtape in my life. You have no business sounding that surprised.”

Did he just call it a mixtape? After Robby tried very hard to say 'playlist' or 'CD' so it wouldn't sound too romantic?

Damn, Mr LaRusso is pulling no punches today.

This is where his Dad makes a sarcastic remark, Robby thinks. Right now. But the crease between his eyebrows hasn’t returned since Robby told him about the day he remembered, and when Johnny finally looks up, he still looks mellow and soft.

Johnny clears his throat. “Yeah… Thanks.”

Miguel raises his eyebrows behind Johnny’s back, as if to say ‘see?’

Robby understands exactly what he meant. That pause was louder than the thanks itself. Jackpot.

LaRusso’s still grinning. “Come on, I’ll show you the CD player.”

The two adults vanish inside the house and Miguel immediately hurries towards Robby, joy bursting out of every step.

“Are you kidding me?” Miguel whispers. “Did you see that?”

"More like did you hear that? He said mixtape!"

"He definitely did. Oh my God."

“We’re so good at this!”

“Fuck yeah!”

They high-five quietly. Demetri looks over at them, frowning.

*

Ten minutes later, LaRusso angrily stomps across the yard, Springsteen playing three times as loud as Robby had expected the CD player to even be capable of.

"Oh, so this is how it is?" LaRusso snaps, furiously turning the volume control down. "I do you a favor and you make sure all my neighbors call the cops on me? Real nice, Johnny."

"Don't know what your problem is."

"The music's way too loud!"

Johnny grins. "Oh, I didn't bring the music. You gotta take it up with my business partner. If he's not too busy with his little yoga class."

LaRusso looks like he's going to personally throw Johnny over the fence. "My little yoga class lost you the All Valley in '84, if I remember correctly!"

"Yeah. Illegally! You probably bought the ref a car or something."

They're both shouting louder than the music right now. Robby is trying so hard not to laugh, and it's getting harder to hold on by the minute. Finally, LaRusso ends the dispute by storming back over to his side.

As soon as the next song starts, Johnny dials the volume up again.

"Great mixtape, LaRusso!" he shouts over towards the Miyagi side of the garden.

Robby can see LaRusso grinding his teeth all the way from the deck.

Chapter Text

On Wednesday before class, his dad and LaRusso agree that they can share their dojo for a little longer. Good news on that front, at least. Buys them more time. The bad news is even on the third day, Miguel remains the only Cobra Kai student training with Johnny – and during the water break, Miguel comes over with even more unfortunate details.

Apparently Robby’s dad spent last night getting drunk at home and writing emails to all Cobra Kai students who once made the mistake of giving him their contact details. He commanded them to turn away from Kreese and join his new dojo instead, making up for his lack in coherence with lots of insults and keysmashes. God, this is painful.

Robby appreciates that his dad is trying, but this might actually be the worst way to go about saving his students from Kreese – short of kidnapping them.

“Did he get any responses?”, Robby asks.

“No idea. I feel like no response at all is the best case scenario here, right? The alternative is probably Kreese showing up here and threatening beatings and lawsuits.”

"True."

Robby sighs.

Barely ten seconds later, Demetri and some of the other Miyagi-Dos come over to make karate smalltalk with Miguel. It's honestly great that they're attempting some cautious reconciliation here, but that doesn’t mean it’s not painfully awkward.

Apparently Johnny notices Robby’s tortured facial expressions, because he bursts into their little circle with a concerning intensity.

“BREAK’S OVER!” he yells. “Get a move on, pussies!”

Demetri sighs. “Why do you show up here every day looking like you’re ready to fight God?”

LaRusso grins, leaning against the doorframe of the house. “Cause he’s here to fight me, and that’s pretty much the same thing.”

“I’m gonna kill you in your sleep, LaRusso,” Johnny groans.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Johnny doesn't comment. Instead, he turns around and makes Miguel do some push-ups to “get warmed up again”, as if two minutes of chugging water is somehow equivalent to a spa vacation.

Robby shakes his head and looks over to LaRusso’s side. He’s apparently decided to also cut his break short and is now handing out softballs to pairs of students.

“Since neither Robby nor Sam can demonstrate the wheel technique for you right now, I thought we’d do a little warmup exercise before I put you all on the pond platform. Stretch out one hand to the ball and keep it in between you. Adjust your distance and your tempo without dropping the ball. Give it a try.”

And this is why Robby really loves watching the training. Not because he misses it (although he honestly really does), or because he wants to supervise the progress between Mr LaRusso and his Dad (which is honestly just as frustrating as it is funny). Because every once in a while, one of them makes their students do some off-the-wall exercise and it’s better entertainment than most of what’s on TV. Since the first hour is done, that means the music is off, and Robby gets to hear everyone complain.

The Miyagi-Do pairs are falling over each other trying to keep their ball between them. Some of them actually try to fight each other while holding it, which Mr LaRusso loudly and desperately insists is “not what the exercise is about”. Demetri and his partner noisily run into each other while trying to switch directions, and Mr LaRusso buries his face in his palms.

“This is harder than it looks!”, one of the younger kids complains.

“It’s really not that complicated,” LaRusso promises. “Robby, could you come over and help me for a second?”

An idea takes shape in Robby’s head, and he yeets it out of his mouth before he can think twice about it. “I’m not cleared for karate,” he says innocently. “Ask my dad, he’s not busy.”

Johnny turns around with an incredulous expression. “I’m literally teaching a class over here.”

If his involvement in the Eagle Fang ‘class’ at the moment didn’t consist of watching Miguel do push-ups while drinking orange soda, that would be a much more convincing argument.

“It’s not karate,” LaRusso explains, ignoring Johnny completely. “It’s just a quick demonstration.”

Robby shrugs and does his best puppy eyes. “If I pass out and die, it’s your funeral.”

LaRusso sighs. “Fine. Johnny?”

Johnny narrows his eyes at him. LaRusso is wearing a new zip-up hoodie today and Robby wonders if Johnny has noticed. Surprisingly, it doesn't look too bad. For once LaRusso doesn't look like he's going on a retirement home hike. (Robby has rather negative opinions about his stepdad's workout clothes. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.) 

Finally, Johnny rolls his eyes and chugs his soda. Then he walks over to the Miyagi side of the garden.

“LaRusso, what the fuck kind of nerd class are you teaching where you need a magician’s assistant?”

Instead of answering, LaRusso picks up one of the remaining softballs and grabs Johnny’s wrist.

“Palm against the ball. Bring the other hand up like it’s in fighting position.”

“Bossy,” Johnny mutters, and Christ, that does not sound like an insult.

“This is a warmup for the wheel technique,” LaRusso explains while he puts his palm against the softball’s other side. “I’ll start to lead, and we try to switch throughout. Don’t drop the ball. If I circle, you go opposite, if I go forward, you go back, and so on and so–”

He takes a step backwards and Johnny follows without hesitation. “Exactly! Yeah. Good.” 

Of course, Johnny interprets ‘switch throughout’ as ‘take charge immediately’ and begins circling LaRusso, slowly, then quickly, then slowing back down. Without Robby being able to tell when the switch occurred, LaRusso is suddenly in charge again, and they move across the grass, eyes trained on each other’s legs, moving, responding, mirroring, yielding. Then Johnny’s pushing forward, faster this time, and LaRusso laughs at the challenge, matching his pace with both visible effort and visible enjoyment. The ball stays in the air the whole time, their fingers only inches apart at the sides. It’s honestly mesmerizing to watch.

“You see?” LaRusso beams, still in motion. “Not that hard. And if the two of us can figure it out—“

“You’ve been fighting each other for thirty years,” the kid from earlier protests. “Of course you know how to read each other. That’s hardly fair.”

They did more than just fight each other, Robby almost says. It’s as if his Dad heard him, because he abruptly brings his second hand forward and grabs the ball out from in between them, clearing his throat.

“Okay. That’s enough.”

He hands the ball back to Mr LaRusso, who nods appreciatively. 

“Thanks, Johnny. That was really good.”

Robby’s watched his Dad react to enough casual positive comments from LaRusso by now to know that this is a silent-panic level compliment.

“Yeah, I had fun,” LaRusso doubles down, and the worst thing is that he doesn’t even sound a little bit ironic. “Good job!”

And that’s just a bit too far, apparently, because Johnny swallows and blurts out, “Wish I could say the same.”

LaRusso sighs, and Robby grinds his teeth. It really is unfortunate that his Dad likes compliments so much that he doesn’t even want to give LaRusso the satisfaction of knowing that about him. 

The ultimate circle of progress and self-sabotage. 

"Stupid fucking jacket," Johnny mutters under his breath as he stalks back to Miguel. "Don't know who the fuck he's trying to impress."

*

On Thursday morning, Robby finds a Cobra Kai flyer in the mail. 

There’s the familiar snake logo on the front, and an address on the back. Right below the class schedule, there’s a small picture of Sensei Kreese.

Robby doesn’t know if this is an actual attempt at recruitment or just a way to mess with him. Maybe this is Kreese’s way of getting back at his dad. You try to steal my students, I try to steal your son. Or maybe Cobra Kai has been flyering all over town and everyone on their street got one of these, making this a total overreaction. Either way, neither his Dad or Mr LaRusso are going to see that. Robby tears the flyer into tiny pieces and shoves them down the garbage disposal.

Mr LaRusso has taken the day off work to spend with Sam. She’s still not set foot in the dojo even once, and Robby’s relief at not having to face the awkwardness of that situation is slowly but surely turning into concern.

He gets a few memories back each day, but they’re fragmented enough to not be all that helpful. Most of them are karate-related. Practicing a handstand at the skatepark. Kata in Mr LaRusso’s home dojo. A few impressions from the All Valley tournament. The one standout memory is of Robby and his Dad fighting about Robby dropping out of school.

Nothing about Sam, or his mom going to rehab, or his Dad and LaRusso’s relationship and divorce. The bigger emotional things seem to be deeply buried in the backyard of Robby’s head. Robby wonders what it will take to bring those things back. More taste and smell associations? Meditation? A mental breakdown?

He spends the day trying various foods from the fridge, hoping they’ll bring back more memories, but it’s futile. While karate practice is going on in his backyard, Robby goes through his room, holding all sorts of different objects. Clothes. Books. 

Nothing.

Miguel comes in to say hi after training is done.

“You still the only one?” Robby asks, and Miguel sighs and nods.

This week, their Friday appointment at the doctor’s is actually a Thursday appointment since Mr LaRusso has important meetings at the dealership on Friday evening. Once Miguel has said goodbye to Johnny and all the other students are gone, the three of them drive to the hospital. 

It’s mostly the same as last week. Good progress. No karate. No skateboard. See you next Friday. The only difference is that from Monday on, Robby will be able to go back to school. Fantastic.

“Are you nuts?” he asks the doctor. “I don’t remember any karate and you want me to go back to Karate War High School?”

“This will surprise you, Robby, but my medical decisions are not usually made based on what the patient considers convenient.” She looks at him over the edge of her glasses. “You’re ready for math. You’re not ready for sports. That’s the usual order in which that happens after a brain injury. I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said, if things go particularly well, I might be able to clear you for sports next Friday.”

“That’s still really good news, Robby,” Mr LaRusso says. “You hear that? Next Friday!”

“Maybe next Friday,” the doctor corrects, exasperated. “And Mr Lawrence, could you please stop sticking my Q-Tips in your ears? First of all, they’re for my patients, and second of all, that’s not what they’re for.”

Johnny sulks the whole walk back to the car. “Why the fuck would they be ear-shaped, then? You’re right, Robby. That woman is nuts.”

Robby doesn’t reply. Even though the doctor clearly doesn’t understand what kind of position she’s putting Robby in, he honestly likes her just fine. She doesn’t discuss his memories with his Dad and LaRusso, she just silently reads them and judges them on coherence and completeness.

LaRusso drives them to the Chinese restaurant Robby picked, and Robby tries to take a deep breath. They’re both still in a good mood. A ‘Robby is going to be fine’ mood. He’d have to be an idiot not to use that to his advantage. Time for the next stage.

When the three of them have settled in their booth at the Imperial Dragon and Johnny announces that he doesn’t know how to use chopsticks (Robby sends Miguel an invisible high five), Robby innocently suggests that LaRusso could teach him. 

“He once caught a fly with those things.”

His dad rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he did.”

LaRusso laughs in embarrassment. “We can just ask for a fork, Robby, I don’t have to...”

“Sounds like someone’s shit at explaining,” Johnny says.

Two seconds of challenging eye contact, and LaRusso slides out of Robby’s side of the booth and moves next to Johnny without another word.

It’s a lot of hand-slapping and scuffling, and Robby feels sort of dirty watching them. Mr LaRusso puts his hand over Johnny’s to correct the position of his fingers. Robby decides to distract himself with his phone, because it’s just too much weird eye contact for his taste.

ROBBY: LaRusso teaching Dad how to use chopsticks . I’m a fucking G.

MIGUEL: ROMANTIC . Also, my intel. I get half the credit

LaRusso is holding Johnny’s tense hand in both of his. “No, a bit further down. And then your index finger goes… no, it goes here.”

“But then I can’t hold it.”

“Yes, you can. It needs to be hovering.”

“What the hell does that mean, hovering?”

“You’d know if you just let me help you for a second!”, LaRusso laughs. “Jesus, Johnny. Relax your fingers.”

The chopsticks clatter to the table, and Johnny groans.

“This is so stupid.”

“No, you were halfway there. You just relaxed a bit too much. Here. Imagine this chopstick is a bird. You don’t want to kill it, but you don’t want it to fly away either. Does that help?”

Johnny looks from the single chopstick in his fingers to LaRusso’s face.

“What is it with you and your stupid metaphors?”

LaRusso grins wide. “I’m surprised you know what a metaphor is.”

“Go fuck yourself, LaRusso,” Johnny says, but he too is all smiles. “If you’re so smart, how am I supposed to pick up the second chopstick?”

“You hold still…” LaRusso picks it up from the table. “... and you let me… slowly…”

With mounting horror, Robby watches LaRusso slide the second chopstick into Johnny’s hand while holding it in place. 

Fucking hell.

ROBBY: okay I already regret this mission. There’s some chopstick themed foreplay going on here and I don’t care for that shit at all.

MIGUEL: what do you mean?

ROBBY: please do not ask me to elaborate.

Robby cautiously looks up again. His Dad is in the middle of some speech about how ‘forks don’t require a fucking college degree’, but he looks really happy. Maybe there’s something to what LaRusso said. Robby’s been hanging out with his dad often enough now to be able to tell annoyed complaining from playful complaining.

Maybe the constant arguing isn’t necessarily a bad sign. It could just be how they flirt.

“Look at this shit,” Johnny laughs and threateningly clacks his chopsticks together in LaRusso’s direction. “Ha! You see that?”

The food comes out as if on cue, and Johnny promptly tries to grab one of the dumplings. Naturally, it falls out of his chopsticks’ grasp. “Why the fuck are these things so slippery?”

“Hold on,” LaRusso says. “Let me just–”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Robby announces loudly.

“But the food just got here,” LaRusso protests.

Robby leaves without further comment. He needs to be somewhere else and give them some privacy. Preferably for a while.

When he comes back to the table ten minutes later, they’re no longer flirting through chopstick lessons. Unfortunately, they have transitioned into arguing over who will be paying the bill later. Actually arguing, not flirt-arguing. Robby sighs. Apparently, light-hearted fun is not enough to smooth over the deeper conflicts between them. 

“...can’t believe you’re picking a fight over fifty dollars!”, LaRusso hisses. “Why do you assume that everything I do is part of some devious agenda to embarrass you?”

“Because it usually is!” Johnny barks. “Look at what you’ve done in the past year and then tell me you wouldn’t be a bit suspicious if you were me.”

“Oh, so you can give Kreese the benefit of the doubt, but not me?”

“I don’t need to listen to this.” Johnny huffs, but Robby can tell he’s hurt. Damn. That was below the belt for sure. 

Robby, passive-aggressively ignoring both of them, turns over a new page in his amnesia notebook and writes.

The Big Issues:

• my relationship with my Dad (kind of better?)

• money (long way to go)

• KREESE !!!

Apparently, he has to solve every fucking problem around here.

Fight’s back on , he texts Miguel. I think our team could use an upgrade.

*

Sam looks nothing short of terrified to see Robby and Miguel waving her over at lunch the next day. She returns their “hi” with visible confusion and then quickly turns away.

Robby jumps to his feet. “Hey, wait up.”

Sam turns around and looks at him like she’s not sure if he’s here to make conversation or to steal her chocolate milk. Her scrunched up face says maybe she’d prefer the latter.

It’s Friday, and Robby doesn't actually have to be back here until next Monday, but he’s already bumped into two well-meaning teachers who told him how glad they are to see him and Miguel getting along so well after their big fight. Somehow, it’s still more embarrassing seeing an ex he barely remembers.

“Look," Robby says, “this is awkward no matter when and where we do it. We might as well get it over with. Right?”

She nods carefully, and then brushes by him and puts her tray on their table. “So you’re talking to me now?” she says, and her voice is distant.

Robby frowns.

“What?”

“You keep ignoring my texts. Why now?”

He doesn’t remember getting any texts from— 

Shit.

“I can’t open my old phone,” he blurts out. “It has a passcode.”

“Oh,” she says, her face suddenly blooming open with compassion. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think of that. I’m so sorry, Robby. I thought you were mad because of–”

She looks down at her tray and sticks her fork into the mashed potatoes without making eye contact. “Listen, I’m kind of taking a break from–”

Karate. Dating.

“... everything. So.”

“That’s fine,” Robby says softly. “I’m still getting used to… everything. So that works, right? If we both kind of need a break. Or something more permanent than a break.”

She looks up, biting her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital. I just… When you found out about the kiss, I didn’t think you’d want to see me again. And I didn’t really want to… even get out of bed at the time. But I still should have come by and not just texted.”

“It’s okay.”

“And I’m sorry about the kiss. I don’t… yeah. I really don’t know what to say to that. It was a really shitty thing to do to you.”

Miguel looks at his tray and says nothing.

Robby still honestly feels like this betrayal happened to somebody else. It doesn’t feel right to steal somebody else’s anger just so he has the proper, appropriate feelings about all this. 

He tries for a good-natured shrug. “Let’s just move on for a moment, okay? That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Miguel shoots him a warning look. 

Robby nods. He’s right. They don’t have to tell her everything. The more people know about this, the higher the chance that someone will slip up and ruin it. And they should especially not tell Sam. We’re trying to get your dad laid is really not that good of a good sales pitch. But for the other part of the plan, they need all the help they can get.

“Kreese needs to go down.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That’s problem number one. Problem number two is…”

Miguel kicks him under the table.

“Kind of top secret.” Robby kicks him back. “We’re trying to set some people up. My Dad. With somebody else.”

Sam frowns. “This is why you’re getting along all of a sudden?”

“Miguel is helping me.”

“You wish," Miguel grins. “You’d be nowhere without my intel.”

“And you’re sure that you two meddling in his business is going to help?”

“Yeah," Miguel says. “Duh. The only problem is we’re not getting anywhere with Sensei Lawrence. The better it’s going between them, the more he sabotages it. So if you have ideas for how to set people up...”

She seems to think about it for a second before a half-grin appears on her face. “Whenever Moon wanted to set two people up, she used to make plans with them and then bail at the last minute.”

“Oooh. That’s good.” Miguel actually bends down and takes notes in Robby’s memory notebook. “Maybe at a restaurant. We should pick a fancy restaurant.”

“New idea.” Sam pensively taps the top of her chocolate milk with her knife. She’s being surprisingly helpful considering how completely weird this conversation is. “You could buy their favorite things, say it’s from the other person?”

Robby remembers the beer in the fridge on their first Friday dinner. Yesterday, his dad brought onigiri for Robby and Mr LaRusso because ‘your weird fish triangles were on sale’. 

“Well, they’re already kind of doing that.”

Sam’s blue eyes shine with skepticism. “Again, are you sure they need your help?”

“Definitely.”

“My dad is hopeless.”

A short silence. This has to be so strange for Sam. Both her exes are at one lunch table playing Cupid for their shared Dad and some sort of mystery person, like they weren’t in the fight of their lives a month ago. Like Sam wasn’t the person they were fighting over.

“I have another idea," she says cautiously. “But it’s really silly and kind of immature. Probably not how you set up adults. More of a high school thing.”

Robby leans forward. “Perfect. We’ll take it. Now for the Kreese thing. According to everyone and their mom, he’s some kind of master manipulator. We can’t just tell the rest of the Cobra Kai students that he’s an asshole, he’ll flip it back on us somehow. Play the victim. We need to get rid of him for good. Hopefully without anyone else getting choked.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He tried to kill my dad. Long story.”

Sam stares. “He tried to kill your dad? And your dad decided to let him–”

“Like I said. Long story. My dad doesn’t have the highest sense of self-worth.”

“Anyway, we’re kind of clueless on the romance front, but we already have a plan to, pun intended, de-Kreese this issue.”

Miguel folds open what used to be a page from Robby’s amnesia notebook, once upon a time, and reveals a mind map that looks like it’s been run over by several trucks. The small doodles of skulls, crosses and knives probably don’t help either.

“Okay," Sam says cautiously. “How many articles of the Geneva Convention does your plan violate?”

“No more than twelve," Miguel guesses.

“I’ve forgotten what that is," Robby deadpans.

Sam sighs. “We need Demetri. Meet me at the library after the last period.”

*

“So," Demetri dramatically folds his hands. “Even though this was back in nineteen-eighty-whatever…”

“Eighty-four," Robby and Sam say at the same time. Years of stories from the glory days.

“My point is, California has no statute of limitations on attempted murder. If we can convince your dad to accuse him and get Mr LaRusso as an eyewitness, we could theoretically put him away for life for trying to kill your dad.”

“Damn," Robby says. “Okay. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“We can’t prove intent, though.” Miguel bends over the textbook Demetri brought. “That’s one of the three things you need for attempted murder, right? You need failure to actually kill, you need actions towards that goal, and you need intent. Kreese won’t admit intent, so they’ll let him go. In dubio pro reo.”

“That’s why I said theoretically , not let’s go on a road trip to the District Attorney’s office .”

“What if we record him?” Sam suggests. “I mean, he probably only wanted to hurt him, not kill him. But if he says something that sort of sounds like admitting an attempted murder, and we record it, we’d have proof.”

“Damn," Miguel says. “You’re really into this plan.”

“Well, his student sort of sliced me open," Sam says coolly. “I’m pretty aware of how shitty a teacher he is. What about recording, Demetri?”

Demetri shakes his head. “Illegal in California if we don’t have his consent. Also I doubt he'll pour his heart out to you over this.”

Robby kicks a library shelf in frustration. The money issues and Robby-centric dojo rivalry suddenly look like third grade math problems next to Kreese.

*

Sam drives him home, and they’re silent the whole way. She lets him out a bit up the road. “See you next week,” she says and drives off.

Right. School. He’ll be in school next week. With all the Cobra Kais who hate him. Jesus Christ, this is going to be a disaster.

When he walks in the door, Mr LaRusso is already home, and he can immediately tell that Robby is antsy. 

“Come on,” he says, putting down the book he’s been reading. “You need something to do. You can help me wax the cars if you want.”

Robby doesn’t really know if that’s the cure for an acute case of what-the-fuck-have-I-gotten-myself-into , but he gives in nevertheless.

Turns out Mr LaRusso is very particular about how he wants his cars waxed, but Robby falls into the routine so quickly it’s almost scary. It actually is helpful to have something physical to concentrate on. Suddenly he remembers doing this to a different car. A Mercedes. A new one. In a whole line of semi-identical ones.

“I’ve done this before,” he says slowly.

Wax on. Wax off.

LaRusso smiles, nods, and continues.

Chapter Text

The weekend flies by. 

Since Mr LaRusso has been working shorter shifts to take care of Robby, Amanda’s been super busy at the car dealership, so she’s decided to treat herself to a spa weekend. LaRusso promptly invites his kids to spend the weekend at the beach with him. Encino Oaks Country Club. Hard pass. Robby protests, but this time it’s futile.

“You’re part of the family,” LaRusso declares, throwing towels into a bag (Robby’s pretty sure they have towels at the country club, but okay). “You’re going, end of discussion. You can’t sit at home all week.”

In a moment of either genius or complete insanity, he asks Mr LaRusso if he can at least invite Miguel. He remembers much too late that while Miguel being there usually makes it less weird to hang out one on one with his Dad, the effect might not necessarily be the same with their mutual ex.

Sam, to her credit, only does a two-second facepalm when Miguel climbs into the car behind Robby, completely beach ready with sunglasses and a giant bag of sour candy. Once they arrive at the pool and choose some beach chairs, she plops down next to them without further discussion.

LaRusso goes to the other side of the pool with Anthony. Robby wonders if he should have asked to invite Johnny. That might have actually been fun.

For twenty minutes, Sam, Miguel and Robby quietly discuss ideas on getting rid of Kreese that become more and more idiotic as time goes by.

Miguel suggests voodoo. Sam volunteers to lure him into the ocean on a day with strong currents. Robby jokingly suggests that they should turn him in as the Zodiac Killer.

“This is stupid,” Sam finally says and reaches into her bag for a glossy magazine. “We’ve let him ruin enough already. I’m not letting him ruin my whole weekend. Who wants to hear their horoscope?”

Robby laughs. “Anyone know Kreese’s star sign? We could see if there are any strong ocean currents in his future.”

“Prepare to be swept away ,” Miguel adds. 

“Nature is breathtaking this time of year,” Sam grins. “Seriously though. Shut up about Kreese. I’m a Libra, so it says my ruling planets lead to surprising developments .” She throws a glance at Miguel and Robby sitting next to each other by the pool. “Understatement of the century.”

Miguel laughs.

Sam lets her finger trail down the page of horoscopes. “Robby….”

“Aquarius,” Robby says, and Sam looks up in confusion. Of course. She remembers. Oh man.

“Brainstorm with others for more success at work ”, she reads. “Oh no. I think we’ve done enough of that. Please pick a new star sign.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“Miguel,” she continues. “Gemini. It says you have a chance to settle old conflicts and move forward. That’s... scarily accurate.” She frowns, then turns a few pages and breaks into a smile. “Oh, they still do their crossword puzzles! I used to do those with Aisha all the time. They have lots of puns in there. Do you want to help?”

And that’s how Robby ends up eating sour candy at a country club pool while doing a nerdy crossword puzzle with his ex and his ex’s ex.

This is by far the weirdest group hang ever, Robby decides. At least this isn’t what his life will be like forever. This is like one of those heist movies where lots of people with different skills come together, and then they steal the gold or swap the paintings or whatever the hell, and five years later they see each other at the beach and they nod at each other, but they don’t talk again.

(Yes, he is setting up his Dad with Sam’s Dad, and his Dad also happens to practically be Miguel’s Dad, which makes this entire respectful-silent-nod a bit unrealistic, but hey. A man can dream.)

*

Robby’s been to the school twice since the accident, but it still feels different when Mr LaRusso drops him off on Monday morning. He has classes. He has a backpack. Before, he’s only been to the cafeteria. Now he’ll have to walk the stairs and the corridors where everything went down. He might remember everything, or he might remember nothing. He’s not sure which option scares him more.

“I have meetings in the afternoon.” Mr LaRusso says as Robby unfastens his seatbelt. “If I can’t make it until four, your father will pick you up. Okay? He’s fixing a hot tub in West Covina this morning but he told me he’d be done by lunch.”

“He called you? Why?”

“Dojo… organisation.” LaRusso looks ahead at the road with an expression so neutral it borders on a grimace. “You know how it is. Doesn’t matter. Have fun at school, okay?”

Robby sighs and gets out of the car. His first class is Spanish. That’s gonna be anything but fun. He still waves bye to Mr LaRusso, even though that’s pretty embarrassing at seventeen. But embarrassed is what normal teenagers feel when they get dropped off at school. So it’s miles better than insecure and lowkey terrified.

Spanish class actually ends up going sort of okay. The teacher seems to sense Robby isn’t very confident in his linguistic abilities and doesn’t call on him that much. At the front of the class are two of the Miyagi-Dos whose names he can’t remember. He thinks one of them might be Chris. They say hi and leave him alone. Perfect.

He doesn't remember anything specific about the school or the fight, which he's actually kind of grateful about.

After he's done with Spanish, it turns out his second period is canceled because the chemistry teacher is sick. Robby has barely sat down in study hall when the loudspeaker crackles to life.

“Robby Keene to Principal Lopez’ Office, please.”

It’s okay, Robby tries to calm himself down on the way there. They probably saw that he has amnesia and a free period and now they want to say ‘hi, welcome back, please don’t participate in any more karate gang fights’.

He’s not in trouble. It’s his first day. Why would he be in trouble?

He finds the principal’s office, which is dominated by a big desk covered in folders. Principal Lopez sits opposite the door. Two chairs are on the other side of the desk, one empty – presumably for Robby – and one occupied by a Cobra Kai with a very distinct haircut.

Fuck. This doesn’t look like a routine welcome committee.

Robby pushes open the door and looks at Hawk, then at Principal Lopez. “Hi. I’m Robby Keene. I was supposed to come by.”

“Robby Keene.” Principal Lopez fixes his gaze on him and points at the empty chair. “Please sit.”

He looks like the kind of man who doesn’t like to waste time, Robby thinks. And he’s right. He’s barely put his backpack down when Lopez reaches into his desk drawer.

“We received an anonymous tip and found this in your locker.”

He puts a small baggy of white powder on the desk in front of him.

Robby’s scalp runs hot.

“That’s not– That’s not mine,” he stammers. “I don’t know how that got in there. I swear!”

“You do realize this doesn’t look good considering your past record? At North Hills High, there was an incident with… ecstasy, I believe?”

“I know. But I promise I have nothing to do with this. I promise!”

Principal Lopez cuts him off with a lifted hand, then turns to Hawk.

“Do you have anything to tell me, Mr Moscovitz?”

“Um. No? Why am I even here?”

“Well, first of all, this is clearly powdered sugar. And secondly, we reviewed the security cameras we added after the unfortunate karate incident. Mr Keene wasn’t at his locker this morning. But you were, and you pressed something small through the slits.”

Robby’s mouth falls open. 

Oh, that bitch .

“I’ll ask again. Do you have anything to tell me?”

Robby’s hands are sweating. He should shut up. He really should. This dude’s clearly an asshole and deserves anything that’s coming to him. But if Hawk’s expelled or suspended or whatever, that will only make this whole dojo war even worse. Cobra Kai is going to come after him with full force. And Robby can’t fight. If this gets physical, he’s fucked. 

The only thing they've been able to agree on the Kreese plan is to lay low until it's the right time to strike. Don't drive by the dojo. Throw the flyers away. If he calls, don't pick up. Don't engage at all. Act like the Cobras don't even exist. Let them build a false sense of security.

He can’t… Fuck. He shouldn’t.

Robby, shut up.

“I dared him to,” Robby says without looking up.

He can feel Hawk’s confused gaze on him.

“I’m sorry, I knew it was dumb, we just… I told the guys about my old school, and how I was messing around with things I shouldn’t have. And Hawk made a joke and said ‘oh, wonder what would happen if I put a little powdered sugar in your locker’ and I said… I said I wasn’t worried about that because he was too much of a pussy to go through with it.”

Principal Lopez stares them both down for a good twenty seconds, then sighs, reaches for the phone and starts dialing. No response. He tries again, unsuccessfully, then flips a page in Robby’s file and types a different number.

“Good morning, Mr LaRusso. This is Principal Lopez at West Valley High. I couldn’t reach your husband, so I–” 

An abrupt pause. 

“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry. Robby wrote your number into the field for stepfather / foster father / guardian , so I wasn’t sure… Right. Of course. Family friend.”

Hawk chuckles next to him.

“Something funny?”, Robby hisses.

“Dude,” Hawk scoffs. “I don’t know how mashed your avocado is, but he just called LaRusso your dad’s husband.”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Just a weird picture, is all.”

“Nobody asked you to picture them, asshole.”

Principal Lopez shoots them a stern look.

“We had a talk with Robby and another student involved in a very distasteful prank. They will both receive detention for the week. No, he’s not suspended.” He nods. “I’ll tell him. Goodbye.”

He hangs up the phone, already reaching for Hawk’s file.

“Mr LaRusso says he expected better of you.”

Robby shrugs. “He and everyone else.”

*

Apparently, news travels fast. When Lopez releases him from his judgement-laden office, they both have someone waiting for them. Hawk’s curly-haired buddy from the cafeteria is leaning against one of the lockers. Demetri stands by the window, shaking his head.

Hawk catches up to him at the end of the corridor. “Keene!”

Robby turns back.

“What?”

“So your dad’s fucking LaRusso now, is that what’s happening?”

Not a word of thanks. Dickhead.

Robby shrugs. “I’m sorry, you only get the newsletter update if you’re actually in our dojo. So. Bye.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Robby steps into Hawk’s space. “I just saved your fucking ass in there. You're welcome, by the way. Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“If my sensei decides to abandon his dojo so he has more time to suck off his sugar daddy, guess what, that is my fucking business!”

“Oh, is that what’s going on over at Cobra Kai?” Demetri sneers. “Are you churning out an army of little baby homophobes? Does your sensei know you had a breakdown when Johnlock didn’t go canon in season four?”

Hawk looks about ready to commit homicide. “If you don’t learn to shut your fucking mouth—“

Robby zones out. Ideally, when they’re back together, everyone will find out anyway. But if Hawk finds out they used to be together – not only together, but married – he might run and tell Kreese. And if Kreese finds out, they have a big fucking problem. No fucking way is Robby going to let Saboteur Number One mess with his mastermind plan.

Robby snarkily tilts his head. “You know what, Hawk? Gonna put it all out there. They’re celebrating their silver wedding anniversary next summer and it’s gonna be a huge party. Freddie Mercury’s coming back from the dead just to sing. We’re gonna burn a straw puppet that looks like Kreese. It’s gonna be epic. Now, how about I go back to my class and you go find a dictionary and look up sarcasm? Does that work for you?”

Hawk throws him a resentful look, then takes off with Curly without another word.

*

That afternoon, three new people show up at Miyagi-Do. Two ex-Cobras, one of which has brought his sister. Judging by build and age, they're probably not the heaviest losses for Kreese, but Johnny’s beaming and handing out Eagle Fang shirts like he just recruited the next Olympic team. “So you’re Bert’s twin, hm? We’re gonna call you Lady Bert.”

“Her name’s Anna”, the boy twin says.

“Shut up or you’re gonna be Lady Bert.”

Bert and the other kid, who can’t be older than fifteen, line up next to Miguel and Anna, rolling their eyes with an annoyance that can only mean they really, really missed Johnny. Robby flinches. Does he look at his Dad like that?

No, right? He doesn’t look like some loser who secretly really cares and does an awful job of hiding it.

“Finally realized that our shirts are much cooler, huh?”, Johnny finally says.

“Um,” Bert says slowly. “It was more the fact that Kreese tried to make me feed a hamster to a random snake and kicked me out when I didn’t want to. But yeah. We love anatomically incorrect bird shirts.”

Johnny sighs. “Man, that guy’s an asshole. Hope you didn’t forget your technique in between all that ‘win or die trying’ bullshit.”

The CD player roars to life with a vengeance.

Mr LaRusso says nothing today. He’s probably still upset about Robby getting detention and barely showing up on time for karate practice (along with Johnny, who drove him). Robby hasn’t told him the real story. Adults can’t help with this sort of thing. It’s not like LaRusso will be his personal bodyguard for the next weeks until the Cobras finally find someone new to hate. So he’ll do his one week of detention and hope the next thing they come up with is just as stupid.

Or maybe Mr LaRusso is distracted because Sam is back. She’s keeping to herself in the back row, focused entirely on the exercises, but LaRusso looks over every ten seconds like she’ll fold up into an origami crane and fly away if he doesn’t check often enough.

Johnny waits for about ten minutes for LaRusso to come over and complain about the volume, then he turns it lower by himself. God, this is pathetic. This man could just learn how to flirt like an adult. But no, he insists on pissing LaRusso off to get his attention.

For the remainder of the first hour, Johnny is focused on his new students. He lets Miguel show them the exercises they did last week and corrects form and attitude with loud, but joyful commands. Robby grins. Maybe once he’s cleared for sports again, he can switch classes sometimes. He likes Mr LaRusso’s teaching style better, for the most part, but he’s not above admitting that while it does sometimes look like a lawsuit waiting to happen, Eagle Fang also looks pretty fun.

The five minute water break (and soda break, much to Mr LaRusso’s dismay) soon becomes an unofficial meeting spot for what Demetri is covertly calling the “John Kreese Must Die Club”, named after some movie Robby’s pretty sure nobody besides him has ever seen. Sam and Miguel are still fuming over Kreese trying to make Bert feed a hamster to a snake, and Robby knows any plotting will be fruitless until they’ve both calmed down. 

It’s okay anyways. It’s not like they had any useful Kreese-related ideas over the weekend. This also definitely doesn’t seem like the right moment to tell them about the drama with Hawk.

He’s just decided to let them tire themselves out when he hears a car pulling in the driveway. A big one, too, by the sound of it. He exchanges a nervous glance with Miguel and Sam. They’re probably thinking the same thing he is. Kreese?

But the man walking around the corner half a minute later is wearing a UPS uniform and holding a small brown carton. “I need a signature from… Daniel LaRusso?”, he reads, looking around in the garden.

“One minute.” Mr LaRusso lifts his hand on the other side of the garden, where he’s speaking to one of his students, a small Asian kid who’s staring daggers towards the new Eagle Fang recruits. 

“Hey, I remember you,” the UPS guy shouts back, smiling. “From last week, right? Quite the impressive package.”

LaRusso chuckles half-heartedly at the Dad joke and goes back to talking to his student.

“Hey, asshole!” Johnny cuts in, voice sharp and mean, fixing the UPS guy in an icy glare. “There’s kids here. Watch it.”

Robby almost laughs out loud – since when does his dad care about that? – but a moment later, the penny drops. Oh my God. Are they about to witness a Jealous Ex Freakout?

The UPS man is young, tall, athletic and – as Robby has to admit – pretty good looking, in an ‘instagram model with lucky genetics’ way. It takes Robby one look back towards his Dad (hackles raised, teeth bared) for the ‘oh no’ atmosphere to flood the entire garden. That silly package joke from earlier is no longer a joke. It’s a threat.

Robby looks over at Miguel and Sam, who seem similarly concerned, and then to Demetri, who looks like he’s about to watch the finale of his favorite show.

The poor UPS guy mostly looks confused. “What?”

Wrong answer.

Johnny throws his own water bottle on the ground and stomps over to his new rival. He looks like he’s about to eat the guy. “Do they pay you extra for being a creep? Get the fuck out of here.”

“Hey, I’m sorry, man–” He lifts his hands defensively.

“No, you’re not. But you will be if you don’t piss off. I can promise you that.”

“I was just kidding.”

“Yeah? You see anyone laughing?”

“Him?” The UPS guy looks over at Daniel as if to remind Johnny of his chuckle earlier – and oh God, that is entirely the wrong answer. 

Miguel sucks in air through his teeth.

Does this guy have a death wish?

Johnny looks like he would commit actual murder right now if there weren’t so many witnesses. Yup. This has officially gone too far. Robby is about to stand up and get LaRusso to deescalate the situation, but when he looks up, LaRusso is already on his way over.

“Piece of advice,” Johnny hisses. “Get back in your stupid brown bitchmobile before I make you.”

“Johnny!” LaRusso is close enough to have heard that last sentence, and he’s outraged. “What the hell is the matter with you?” 

He takes the pen from UPS Guy and finally puts him out of his misery by signing for the delivery. Then he grabs a banknote from his jeans and puts it into the breast pocket of the UPS uniform.

“Holy guacamole,” Demetri whispers.

Robby whimpers.

He did not seriously just stripper-tip that poor postal worker right in front of Johnny!

“I apologize,” LaRusso sighs. “My partner here can be a bit deranged sometimes—”

Sam nearly chokes on her gatorade.

PARTNER?

Johnny has gone from angry red to ‘partner?’ red within three seconds flat, but that’s not the worst thing. The worst thing is that LaRusso has clearly not even realized what he just said. He’s just complaining about his business partner; meanwhile Robby can practically watch UPS Guy’s impression of Johnny shift from ‘actual crazy person’ to ‘jealous idiot boyfriend’.

“It’s okay,” UPS Guy says weakly.

“I can assure you it isn’t,” LaRusso says with an exasperated look to Johnny. “Seriously, what's gotten into you?”

“Just… uh,” Johnny finally manages. LaRusso’s Freudian slip has clearly destabilized him beyond all coherence. “The heat?”

LaRusso shakes his head and stomps off into the house with the package.

“Sorry, man,” UPS Guy says to Johnny. “Just a silly UPS joke. Most people love it. I wasn’t trying to steal your boyfriend or anything.”

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” Johnny snaps. “We just have two dojos in the same yard, you numbskull. Piss off.”

When UPS Guy has fled back to his truck, he turns around towards the house, looking right at Robby, Sam, Demetri and Miguel. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Good question.” Demetri raises his eyebrows and audibly slurps his orange soda. “What am I looking at?”

Chapter Text

> Robby has added Miguel, Sam and Demetri to the group chat.

> Demetri changed the group name to “John Kreese Must Die Club”

ROBBY: are you insane? we can’t have that show up in our notifications.

SAM: yeah, hard pass. my parents might see

> Miguel changed the group name to “Bye Bye Snake”

DEMETRI: subtle.

ROBBY: better than your idea.

MIGUEL: speaking of ideas, did anyone come up with something?

ROBBY: what about putting laxatives in kreese’s drink so he shits himself in front of all his students? that would make class sizes dwindle rather quickly.

DEMETRI: did you finally watch john tucker must die?

ROBBY: … maybe

DEMETRI: as you should. it’s required reading.

SAM: the sad thing is that even though this is a very bad idea, it’s definitely in the top three of all our ideas so far.

SAM: also we need a code name for him.

MIGUEL: how about steve? robby and i watched the italian job with sensei lawrence last night. their villain’s called steve.

SAM: I love the Italian Job but Steve is a terrible villain name.

DEMETRI: no but honestly, I’m into this! steve is so lame nobody will suspect who we really mean.

MIGUEL: let’s all do code names! sam could be stella

SAM: why, cause I’m the girl? 

DEMETRI: yeah, maybe I want to be Stella! 

MIGUEL: She definitely has the best car.

ROBBY: we can’t all be stella. also demetri is the only one of us who has hacker skills, so he has to be Lyle.

DEMETRI: true. then robby has to be charlie because it’s his plan.

ROBBY: what? No. I’m Handsome Rob. My name is literally Robby.

DEMETRI: but you don’t have a British accent.

ROBBY: none of us have a british accent!

SAM: I’m gonna be Handsome Rob.

DEMETRI: good call. you’re the only one here who can pull that title off. no offense, everybody.

MIGUEL: okay, if Handsome Rob is taken, I want to be Left Ear. He gets to do explosions AND he gets a villa in spain with a gigantic library. and a room just for his shoes. Like come on!

ROBBY: But I don’t want to be Charlie!

SAM: Wait. We’re doing this to get revenge for your Dad, right? You know who else is getting revenge for her Dad? Stella! AND she gets the final punch.

ROBBY: true! okay I'll be Stella :)

ROBBY: but I am NOT going on dates for this mission! fucking forget it!

*

On Tuesday afternoon, when Miguel shows up to the front yard with a white envelope and hands it to Robby with a gigantic grin, Robby doesn’t expect much. An old love note, maybe. He puts down his towel on the hood of the car and opens the envelope. They’re pictures of his dad, from his twenties. Shirtless beach pictures that are so sensual that Robby immediately slams the envelope shut again and dry-heaves.

“Ew. Why would you show me these?”

“I didn’t bring them for you, I just wanted you to know what kind of ammo we have.”

Miguel really took that ‘No Mercy’ thing to heart. Robby takes a look back towards the garden to make sure LaRusso is still out there, then scoffs incredulously. 

“Dude, he’s definitely seen them. He’s definitely seen more.”

“Okay.” Miguel shrugs. “Let’s remind him what he’s missing.”

Before Robby knows it, they’re both nearly on the floor with laughter. This is so stupid, but also exactly what they need right now. For LaRusso to be reminded of his dad’s ‘good qualities’. Where would Robby be if he hadn’t asked Miguel for help? He definitely wouldn’t have found anything that good.

It’s only when LaRusso steps outside, drawn by their laughter, that Robby realizes their mistake. They won’t have much time now to come up with a good plan.

“Oh! Hi, Miguel. What are you two up to?”

Robby knows all it takes is a too-quick “Nothing!” for LaRusso to come over and make sure it’s not drugs, porn or worse – Cobra Kai flyers. There's been one in the mail every single day, and they're starting to show up in Robby's locker, too. Robby hasn't been able to make all of them disappear before LaRusso could notice. Luckily, Robby managed to convince him that it was the first time. No contact with Kreese until the plan is done.

But for these pictures of Johnny, maybe they won’t even need a plan. Maybe they speak for themselves.

LaRusso takes one look at Johnny, flexing and positively glistening in the sun, and chokes out something that wants to be an apology but definitely isn’t. “Oh. Oh, I didn’t– Uh. Wow. Okay. Where–”

“Hilarious , right?” Robby grins. “Miguel found those.”

“Found?” Miguel interjects. “I told him he needed pictures for his dating profile and he showed me those!”

“Christ," LaRusso mutters, turning away.

“Wait, you haven’t even seen the best one yet, look at how –”

“No, thank you!” LaRusso wheezes with entirely more formality than necessary. “I’ll… I’ll pass. Do you want something to drink, Miguel? Water. I’ll get you some water.”

He practically flees into the house, and Robby gives Miguel an enthusiastic shove. 

“Holy shit, best idea ever! He looked like was gonna pass out.”

“Honestly, I get it. Thought I was going to pass out the first time I saw them.”

“That combo was fucking brutal, though. Showing him those pictures and telling him he’s dating three seconds later? That’s cold, Miguel.”

“Well, that was Sam’s plan!” Miguel says defensively. “Pretend that the other person might be off the market soon and wait for the jealousy to do its work!”

“I know, but I didn’t know you’d pair it with…” Robby sucks in a sharp breath. “Wait. I actually might have an idea for a triple combo.”

*

Once training has started, Robby makes sure to pick the most sugary, sticky drink from the fridge – Chupa Chups Sparkling Strawberry and Cream, Sam’s current favorite – before he ‘accidentally’ stumbles into his dad on the porch and spills it all over his gi.

“ROBBY!”

“I’m so sorry!” Robby says, dropping the can and touching his forehead. “I got dizzy all of a sudden. Must be from the… brain thing.”

All the fight goes out of his father. 

“It’s fine. Sit down for a bit. I’ll just…” 

Johnny pats down his clothes. With any luck, some of it went underneath as well. In that case, it’ll be so sticky that he’ll get rid of it immediately.

One of the Miyagi-Dos whistles ironically as Johnny shrugs off his jacket.

“Yeah, yeah, can it, asshole!” 

He throws the garment at the boy’s face. 

“Hey!”

LaRusso turns around, probably to admonish Johnny either for cursing at his students or for throwing things at them. The rebuke never comes. Robby’s dad definitely no longer looks like he did in those pictures, but he also doesn’t look entirely terrible, judging by LaRusso’s expression. His eyes are big and round, and he swallows almost reflexively.

Jackpot.

“I bet Sensei LaRusso can lend you a T-Shirt," Miguel calls over innocently.

He doesn’t even react.

This is going fantastically.

“Sensei LaRusso?” Miguel repeats with a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I can… Come in.”

They vanish inside the house together, LaRusso awkwardly leading the way.

Miguel and Robby exchange subtle finger guns – or at least, Robby thinks they’re subtle, until someone steps in between him and the sun.

“You’re setting up your dad and my dad?”

Sam is standing over him, arms crossed.

“Uh," Robby says. “No?”

The other Miyagi-Dos and Eagle Fangs are too far away to hear, but Miguel jogs over with a panicked expression. “Nope. Nope. Definitely not.”

“Please! That was the worst fake fall I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Miguel pleads. 

“I won’t, but you know this is kind of creepy, right? He needs to see him half-naked and then I’m sure they’ll immediately fall in love?”

“I mean…”

“It’s really no wonder you’re not getting anywhere.”

“We’re not getting anywhere? My Dad is literally half-naked in your Dad’s bedroom right now, but okay.” Robby grins as he chugs the rest of the sugary abomination, then stands up and goes inside to throw the empty can away. He’s so fucking good at this. People should be paying him. 

On second thought, maybe not. From further inside the house, he can hear the two senseis bickering.

“... don’t even have any good band shirts!”

“You can hold the class without a shirt if mine aren’t good enough for you.”

“So your whole class can make fun of my… dad bod, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Johnny, I don’t think you know what a dad bod is.”

“Course I do. Miguel tells me about all that new stuff. Emojos and all of that. The peach means butt sex.”

Robby feels a sudden urge to gouge his eyes out. He can’t keep overhearing this stuff.

LaRusso wheezes in the other room. Apparently, he’s just as traumatized.

“I’m pretty sure it just means butt.”

“You’re just jealous because I know more emojos than you.”

“It’s emojis, and you should really put something on before our students drown each other in the pond. Pick a T-Shirt. Any T-Shirt.”

“ROBBY," his dad shouts so loud they can probably hear him in San Francisco. “WHAT DOES THE PEACH EMOJO MEAN?”

Any time he thinks these two can’t get any worse, they surprise him with their childish antics. Robby sighs and walks over to the bathroom where his Dad is toweling off his torso while a very tired-looking Mr LaRusso is holding up three different T-Shirts.

Robby grabs one at random and throws it at his father.

“Dad, put this on and stop talking about emojis. Whatever Miguel explained to you, he clearly did it wrong.”

“Sometimes all my letters come out big, and he says it looks like I’m yelling. So I put more emonjis.”

He puts on LaRusso’s shirt, which is just a half-size too tight. LaRusso looks unhappy and turned on at the same time. Oh, they’re good at this. Project Jealousy is working so well it’s embarrassing. Time to dial up the heat.

“You should see the texts he sends me," Robby says to LaRusso. “I don’t even want to know what he’s sending to his dates.”

“I’m not even going on dates!” Johnny says in such a deliciously guilty tone that Robby couldn’t have planned it better if he tried.

“Look at this," Robby says and shows LaRusso one of his dad’s texts from last week that made him wish for even more amnesia. The worst part is that this isn’t even staged.

NEED  🍆🍆  

LaRusso looks like he’s had another aneurysm. 

“Yeah. I know. Wait for his explanation.”

Johnny grabs the phone and points at it. “Clear as day. Bring groceries before you come over. I was out of vegetables. Kids need vegetables.”

“I’m seventeen.” Robby snatches his phone back. “And that’s a dick, not a vegetable.”

How the fuck is he the only adult in this house?

Chapter Text

Wednesday classes are actually bearable. The Cobras leave him alone. At lunch, Robby splits a vending machine Milky Way with Sam and a Sprite with Miguel. He feels like the whole cafeteria is staring at him.

This is so fucking weird.

Detention flies by, too.

After school, Johnny picks him up, offers him a can of off-brand Pringles and calls him a delinquent with a grin that’s borderline proud. They listen to Johnny’s dojo CD on the way to Miyagi-Do, as if he’s not going to play it again in half an hour.

Jesus Christ. He’s got it bad.

“So when are you going to tell him?” Robby teases when they drive by the first one of the LaRusso Auto billboards.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Johnny groans. “Also, I will leave you on the side of the road. Don’t think I won’t.”

“So you’re just going to be a coward?”

“Okay,” Johnny says. “What do you want me to do, smart-ass? Show up to his house with a boombox and be like ‘Yeah, I can barely make rent and you think I’m a total moron, whatever, let’s fuck’? Hell no. I do have some dignity.”

Robby snorts. “Since when?”

Johnny laughs so loudly that Robby entirely forgets how annoyed he is with this whole closeted repression bullshit. This is fun, honestly. His dad picking him up from detention. Laughing when Robby is ironically mean to him. Buying him snacks that LaRusso finds unhealthy.

Robby does think his Dad is being ridiculous, but he sees his point. They don’t exactly have the easiest past, and Johnny has put LaRusso through a rather brutal breakup. He can’t exactly waltz in and sing ABBA’s Take A Chance On Me and expect to be taken seriously. They both have enormous amounts of pride, and it’s going to take some major effort to get them to set it aside and give each other a second chance.

“Besides, it doesn’t even mean anything,” Johnny finally says, eyes fixed on the road in front of him instead of the gigantic LaRusso Auto billboard passing by. “Fighting gets your testosterone high, right? It’s normal for your body to get confused about what that means. There’s no reason to run around and blow your life up just because maybe, once or twice, your dick decides to–”

“Please stop talking,” Robby begs.

“I mean, I’m just saying. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything. I'm not like that, you know. I’ll be back to normal in like a month.”

Johnny turns the mixtape louder, and Robby quietly watches the road, the embarrassment having gone up in flames as quickly as it came, replaced by a vague sense of sadness.

This is a problem he hasn’t considered so far: Johnny dumping LaRusso because he was having some sort of gay crisis. Robby pictures how he’d feel if he eloped with somebody only to then be dumped because ‘I’ll be back to normal in a month and this didn’t even mean anything’. Yikes. Holy shit.

Also, how the hell did Johnny ever make it down the aisle? He can see how Johnny and LaRusso might have accidentally ended up in bed at some point, after a drunken night out or after a fight, maybe, but marriage? You have to sign multiple things. People ask you if you’re sure. You have to be semi-sober for it to count. Eloping or not, secrecy or not, actually going through with the ceremony is a whole other level than just hooking up with someone. 

He should be entirely on LaRusso’s side right now. But honestly, Robby also feels bad for his father.

How much self-hate do you have to carry with you to stand in front of an officiant swearing to love and care for somebody and still break their heart like this once reality comes crashing down?

Robby turns the volume down again. “Honestly?” he snaps. “Fuck normal. Our ‘normal’ used to be not talking to each other, and this is better, right? I mean, I didn’t have to hear about your dick before, so that was clearly an upside. But I also didn’t get picked up from school with Pringles. So… who cares? You’ve never given a shit about normal.”

Johnny sighs. “You don’t get it.”

“No. I don’t,” Robby says, doing his best to keep his anger down and doing a rather miserable job. “You’re over here like ‘come join my dojo, don’t let Kreese run your life ’, blah blah. You’re still letting him run your life! Or where else do you think this bullshit is coming from?”

Johnny chews on his lip.

“Rethinking what he taught you shouldn’t stop at karate. But I guess that’s none of my fucking business.”

“Robby–”

“Just drive.”

Johnny sighs, but he doesn’t say another word.

*

When they drive into the Miyagi-Do front yard, a girl is standing in front of the house. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. She’s wearing glasses and a long black braid. Robby thinks he might have seen her at the cafeteria before.

“Hi,” she says when Johnny gets out of the car. “I’m Maya. I was wondering if I could try out for… um.” She looks down at a scrap of paper she’s holding. “Miyago-Do? That’s here, right?”

Johnny walks her around the corner into the garden and points out LaRusso. “Miyagi-Do. That’s him.”

“Actually, Johnny, my class is pretty full at the moment,” LaRusso says, nodding over to his students who are currently being warmed up by Sam. “Why don’t you take her for Eagle Fang?”

Thankfully Johnny doesn’t complain about handouts in front of the new girl. She seems confused enough as is.

“What’s Eagle Fang?”

“It’s like football,” Robby supplies while he sinks into his lawn chair. “We have an offense team and a defense team, but you need both to win, right? That’s why we’re in one dojo together.”

The complete bullshit that just came out of his mouth actually seems to make sense to Maya. Daniel gives Robby a smile and leans against one of the support beams on the house, watching the other Eagle Fangs line up next to Maya.

“Um. Coach?” she says while Johnny bends down to get his music going.

“It’s sensei.”

“Okay. Sensei. I was wondering, if Miyagi-Do is full, could I maybe switch with somebody? Or… is there a list, do we rotate?”

Johnny doesn’t turn on the music and instead stands up again.

“Why do you want Miyagi-Do?”

He doesn’t say it with a frown, or a snarky undertone. To Robby’s surprise, he sounds like he really wants to know. Probably just so he can adjust his sales pitch, but hey.

Maya takes a deep breath. “Cause my ex is a loser who doesn’t understand what the word breakup means. So I think defense might be a little more-”

“QUIET!”

The whole Eagle Fang class tenses, and LaRusso sighs next to Robby.

Johnny begins to pace back and forth in front of them. “As someone who used to be in your ex’s position, there’s only one thing that guy needs.”

He stops expectantly in front of Maya.

“Communication?” she guesses.

“No!” Johnny says disgustedly. “A kick in the nuts, obviously.”

Robby grins.

“Well, I can’t just walk up to him and kick him,” Maya says, doubtfully pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I don’t wanna be an asshole.”

“Why not? You know how much bullshit we could all avoid every day if we weren’t so afraid to be assholes for ten seconds?”

Robby’s pretty sure that ‘being an asshole’ creates more problems than it solves, but he understands what his Dad is getting at. There’s steps in between being an asshole and a pushover. You can’t set good boundaries for yourself if you’re afraid they’ll hurt other people’s feelings.

“Okay. Here’s your first lesson. The more you respect somebody, the more you need to learn how to punch them in the face. Your boyfriend, your Dad, your stepdad – I don’t care. Otherwise you’re always gonna be a little scared of them, even when they’re not there. And if you’re scared of me , you don’t stand a chance against all the assholes out there, so that’s where we’ll start. Mr Diaz!”

“Yes, sensei,” Miguel says with visible confusion.

“Punch me in the face.” 

Miguel lines up and lets one fly. A practice punch. Nice straight line, explosive speed, perfect control. He stops an inch short of Johnny’s face.

“No!” Johnny sounds exasperated. “Like you mean it. Come on.”

And Miguel, after a brief hesitation, does exactly that. He strikes Johnny on the jaw. It's not a mean hit by any stretch of the imagination, but it looks like it might still sting. Johnny stumbles back, whooping like he’s just watched his team score a goal. “Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” 

Miguel steps back in line, cautiously grinning, and Johnny keeps walking until he’s standing in front of Maya again. 

“The people that have power over you, over your body, your money, your life; they need to know that you can take it back. And if they mess with you, you’re gonna fuck them up. Is that understood?”

Robby suddenly realizes that while this might be about making Maya feel comfortable, it’s just as much about what he and his Dad talked about earlier. Johnny never learned to punch Kreese in the face. He might not know how to deal with that, but he’s not going to let that problem bleed into the next generation. Robby bites his lip, unexpectedly touched.

He shouldn’t have yelled at him. It’s not his Dad’s fault he was pretty much exclusively raised by homophobic douchebags.

Over on the lawn, Miguel lifts his hand. “Oh! You mean like Hegel’s lord and bondsman dialectic?”

“No. Nothing like that lame shit. Come on, new girl. Let me see you set some boundaries.”

Maya blinks. “Um. I haven’t learned anything yet.”

“Tough shit. Hit me.”

She raises her fists cautiously, like she’s trying to imitate Miguel. Then she looks Johnny up and down a few times, as if trying to find the perfect spot.

Come on, Robby silently says. Get his ass.

Maya lunges forward and hooks her foot around Johnny’s leg. She doesn’t have the balance to stay on her feet, but neither does Johnny.

He lands right on his face, and Maya scrambles to her feet, her eyes gigantic with shock. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Legsweep? Seriously?” Johnny sits up, rubbing his forehead.

“I didn’t think that would actually work, I—”

“Your first instinct is a legsweep and you wanna go on defense? Over my dead body. That was killer. Not in a tournament, obviously, but… Next time you see your wimp of an ex, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.” 

Maya smiles with relief. “Yes, sensei.”

“Just… don’t do it on hard surfaces,” Miguel adds hastily. “Right, sensei? Maybe grass. Do it on grass.”

But Johnny’s already moved on.

“Okay, who’s next? Bert. Let’s go.”

Robby looks up to see if Mr LaRusso is amused or impressed. Personally, Robby thinks this is a really cool lesson (partly because ‘let me see you set some boundaries’ is a surprisingly insightful lesson coming from his Dad, but mostly because it’s very funny to watch his Dad get kicked around by a bunch of fourteen-year-olds).

But LaRusso is walking away, going into the house so demonstratively unhurried that it’s clear something’s wrong. What? Shit. Something’s going a bit off the rails here. 

Robby gets to his feet.

“Sam, can you continue the warm-up a bit?” he calls. “I need to talk to your dad for a second.”

Sam gives him a thumbs up from across the yard, and Robby follows his sensei inside with a growing sense of dread.

“Mr LaRusso?”

LaRusso turns around from over by the running sink, face wet and pale like he’s just splashed himself with water in an attempt to regain his composure. It doesn’t look like it’s working very well.

“Robby,” he says weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be back in a second, alright?”

“Are you okay, Mr LaRusso?”

“Yes. Caught me a bit off guard, what Johnny did out there. In a good way. Don’t worry about it.”

Robby crosses his arms.

“Yeah, now I’m officially worried. Should I get Sam? You look–”

“No. Don’t get Sam involved in this. Please. I just… I needed a moment. I'm fine.”

He wets his hand again and runs it over his face, then takes a breath and shuts the tap off with shaking hands. Okay. Something is definitely very wrong here.

And Robby thinks, stupidly, of the Italian Job. The heist movie he saw with his Dad on Monday night. You know what ‘fine’ stands for, right? Freaked out, insecure–

“You're not fine. You look like you’re about to pass out.” Robby steps closer, trying to make his voice sound firm and determined. He’s never seen Mr LaRusso like this. He’s watched his mom go through withdrawal once, but the only thing these two situations have in common is that Robby feels entirely overwhelmed. Should training be canceled? Probably, right?

Way too late, it occurs to Robby that he doesn’t have to solve things by himself this time. There is another adult here. “I’m getting my Dad.”

“No!”

Robby stops dead in his tracks. There is genuine fear in LaRusso’s voice now, as if Johnny seeing him like this is ten times worse than whatever else is currently going on. 

“Then tell me what else to do!” Robby snaps.

“Just… stay with me until I feel a bit better, okay?”

Robby walks back towards the kitchen and takes out a clean towel from a drawer. LaRusso slowly pats his own face dry. His breathing begins to relax.

When Robby is just about to ask what the hell happened, LaRusso sighs as if he heard Robby thinking out loud, and says, “I had another sensei once. Besides Mr Miyagi.” 

He lays the towel on the counter and begins folding it, not meeting Robby’s eyes. “His whole thing was ‘making me do things I didn’t want to do’.”

The air goes numb around Robby’s face. “You mean…”

His voice gives out.

LaRusso doesn’t confirm Robby’s worst assumptions. But he doesn’t deny them either, and that feels almost as awful. “I got out before things really escalated”, he says, not looking up from the towel. “I was lucky. But I know first-hand that fostering an environment where students can’t say no to their teachers is dangerous for reasons that have nothing to do with karate at all. So that lesson out there just… brought some things back for me that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Like I said. Nothing happened and I barely think about it. So it’s fine.”

When LaRusso opens the drawer and grabs the towel to lay it back inside, Robby gently takes it from him. 

“We can’t just put it back like that. It’s wet. We have to let it dry first.”

“Right,” LaRusso says absent-mindedly. “Let it dry. Of course.”

Robby doesn’t know what to say.

What he wishes he could say is, ‘You’re allowed to be a little fucked up about things that almost happened. Even if it could have been much worse. Sometimes the really bad shit just passes you by because you’re lucky. And you know you might not be next time. That’s kind of messed up in and of itself, right?’ But he doesn’t know if that is an appropriate thing to say to his mentor. His stepfather. The way Robby knows him, LaRusso will soon regret saying anything at all, because he’s the adult, and adults aren’t supposed to bother kids with their problems or something like that.

Mr LaRusso looks up at him quietly. For a moment, he looks really young. Robby bites his lip. He hates it when adults do that. Let the kid in them peek out. It’s scary to think that when Robby’s fifty, he’s still going to be that same kid inside his body, puppeteering it around and hoping nobody catches on to the fact that he has nothing figured out.

“I’m sorry to put this on you,” LaRusso says. “That was wrong of me.”

“You didn’t,” Robby says, feeling an all-too familiar flush of shame creeping up his neck. “I kept pushing until you answered. I’m really sorry. I should have just fucked off when you told me to.” 

LaRusso looks over to the picture of Mr Miyagi on the walls.

“You’re the first person I’ve told that in over thirty years.”

And the weight of that hits Robby ten seconds too late. 

LaRusso never told Johnny. He loved him, and he married him, he kissed him good night and good morning, but he never let him close enough to see the most vulnerable parts of him, the soft center that all the atoms of pain orbit around. And he didn’t tell Amanda either. Nobody since Mr Miyagi. It’s over, it’s fine, nothing happened, the show must go on.

Robby wonders what it’s like to bury something for more than half your life only for it to bubble up when you see how you could have been treated. For a brief, stupid moment, he pictures teenage Daniel LaRusso in his Dad’s class, grinning as he learns how to punch an authority figure in the face; and all the messed up shit with his other sensei never happened and never will. He knows that’s exactly what LaRusso must have been picturing, too.

Then Robby thinks of their first dinner together, LaRusso in front of the house — „I didn’t know things were that complicated with Kreese“ – and Johnny telling him it’s none of his business. Neither of them opened up.

My problems are none of your business.

How is Robby supposed to deal with feelings that are older than his own existence? 

“Well,” he finally says for a lack of other intelligent options, “just make sure you never tell me the name of that piece of shit, or you might actually have to pick me up from jail.”

“Not funny,” LaRusso says mildly, and Robby shrugs.

“Not joking.”

LaRusso sighs. Sometimes, the way he looks at Robby and his dad is so similar it hurts. Like they could have been a real family in a different timeline, if they weren’t all so terrible at talking to each other.

As if on command, Johnny steps into the house. “Do you have any ice?” he says. “Man, that legsweep got me good.”

“Sure.” LaRusso dives into the fridge, jumping at the distraction as eagerly as a drowning man climbs into a life raft. Finally, he reemerges with a pack of frozen peas. “Here you go.”

“Fucking hell, LaRusso.” Johnny frowns as he accepts the makeshift ice pack and slaps it onto his forehead. “You look like someone microwaved you too long. Are you coming down with something?”

LaRusso smiles weakly. “I’m okay.”

“Seriously. I can take over if you’re sick. If you’re alright with me corrupting your students with my evil Eagle Fang agenda.” He grins. 

LaRusso says nothing, and for once it’s Robby who’s picking up every last bit of static on the telepathy channel. Your dorky lesson just now was exactly what I needed to hear thirty years ago, you giant idiot.

Johnny frowns, clearly unsettled by the lack of snarky comeback. “Wouldn’t kill your kids if they got a decent workout for a change,” he tries again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Robby cuts in. “Why don’t you do your lesson for the Miyagi-Dos, too, and we watch you get beaten up by Sam and Demetri? That’ll cheer you up, hm, Mr LaRusso? And after that you can take back over.”

LaRusso gives his first genuine smile since Robby’s followed him inside the dojo. “Okay. Sure. Yes. I’d love to watch my daughter beat you up.”

Johnny grins back. “The shit I do for you, LaRusso.”

And he slaps the peas back on the counter and goes outside.

*

Miguel stays after training. They set up camp in Robby’s room, doodling on the back of a worksheet from Spanish class and plotting their next matchmaking moves.

Robby hasn’t told Miguel what happened earlier. He’s clearly concerned, and Robby doesn’t think he’d actually do anything with the information. But ultimately, it’s not Robby’s story to tell. And it’s not their problem to solve.

They should focus on getting him back together with Johnny. Hopefully the second time around they can be a bit more honest and help each other through all their issues. God knows they have enough of them.

The barbecue is happening sometime next week. Miguel is going to make cocktails for both of the adults, so they can get a little tipsy and flirty. Robby and LaRusso are going shopping beforehand so they can get good quality meat. Sam said she can bring fairy lights to decorate the yard.

(Robby still feels a bit guilty that he hasn’t told her about the divorce. There is a 99% chance that she knows already, considering that she has a good relationship with her Dad, but that last percent is bothering him a bit. On the other hand, this really isn’t his bullet to take. Daniel and Johnny are the ones who are making this unnecessarily complicated. If Sam really didn't know that they eloped, they can explain that to her once they're actually back together. Robby doesn’t have to do everything around here.)

Miguel puts a checkmark behind ‘barbecue planning’ .

“How are we on the compliments front?” Robby whispers.

“Hard to say,” Miguel says, chewing on his pencil. “Also just… so hard to control, honestly. Depends on what kind of mood Sensei is in. And we can’t just tell LaRusso–”

Robby grabs one of his pillows and whacks him with it. “Shhhhh! I’m telling you, this house is like one big room. Do you want him to hear you?”

Miguel laughs. “Sorry.”

He gets off the floor and joins Robby on the bed, showing him the list. “After one of your Friday appointments,” he whispers, “you have to bail on them during dinner. We need to pick something good but not too fancy. Like an expensive steakhouse. Where they’ll have something they both eat.”

“Couple days ago, we drove by a steakhouse named Aurelio’s. Mr LaRusso said he hasn’t been there in forever. I could make a reservation.”

“Perfect.”

Miguel writes ‘Aurelio’s!’ behind ‘Romantic Dinner Trick’ .

He writes his capital Rs very strangely, Robby notices. He’s never really looked at Miguel’s handwriting before. It’s very odd how well they know each other now. Miguel likes that weird cinnamon chewing gum. His favorite movie is Deadpool, which is really funny considering he acts like he only watches Disney Channel. And he writes weird Rs.

Robby wonders what strange details Miguel might have noticed about him. It used to just be Robby and his mom, and she was barely around. Then he hung out with Trey and Cruz who didn’t really care enough to pay attention to him as a person beyond what he could do for them as an accomplice. It’s strange to now have an entire handful of people who know his routines, who know him well enough to know what snacks to pick up for him at the gas station. LaRusso. Miguel. And strangest of all, his father.

Robby slides closer. 

“Your pen is in the way,” he whispers. “Let me see the rest of the list.”

“Sorry,” Miguel whispers back, putting the pen down. “We only have two things left. First is jealousy. I mean, Mr LaRusso handled it semi-okay when we implied Sensei might start dating. But remember the UPS guy? Sensei was all like ‘fuck off, he’s mine’. We have to use that. We could tell him Mr LaRusso went on a date. Then he might actually make a move.”

“No way. Dad would tease him about it to see if it’s serious, and Mr LaRusso would be like ‘what date’. That would totally blow our cover.”

“True. We can’t risk them finding out.”

“Okay. What’s the other–”

The door unexpectedly slides open, and they jump apart.

Mr LaRusso looks at the both of them with a rather skeptical expression. „What’s going on here?“

„Homework,“ Robby says lamely, even though one crumpled sheet from a legal pad would barely pass for homework in Johnny’s eyes, let alone hold up under the scrutiny of LaRusso’s gaze.

„Homework?“ LaRusso repeats with raised eyebrows.

„Spanish,“ Robby says at the same time that Miguel blurts out „History.“

Fantastic.

Mr LaRusso looks back and forth between them, then does one of his famous ‘ I guess I’m having that conversation ’ sighs. It’s honestly offensive. Normally those happen when Johnny is being ridiculous. Robby’s excuse wasn’t that bad.

„Robby, can I talk to you for a minute?“

„Can it wait? We’re kind of busy right now.“

But clearly, this was a rhetorical question. Mr LaRusso leaves the room and leaves the door slightly ajar. Robby frowns, gets up and closes it. Not like it would even make a difference with the setup of this house –

The door flies open again before he can even sit back down.

„Robby. Now!“

Robby rolls his eyes. “Sorry. Be right back.”

He signals Miguel to hide the evidence and then stomps out into the kitchen. LaRusso only briefly stops to turn on the kitchen radio before continuing out onto the deck. He doesn’t want to be overheard. Smart move, honestly. Robby should have thought of that.

He catches up to LaRusso halfway through the garden. “What’s up?”

LaRusso takes a deep breath. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. „I know it might not make much of a practical difference in a house like this, and I’m under no illusion that you can’t go out and do… whatever you want wherever you want to. But when I open a door in my house, I’d like it to remain open.“

Where the hell is this coming from all of a sudden? Robby crosses his arms in front of his chest.

„What about my privacy?“

„Privacy is important,” LaRusso concedes. “But it has its limits. I know I’m not your actual father, but I still need to look out for you.“

„Look out for me?“

„Yes. I know Johnny trusts Miguel, and he seems like a good kid…“

„I can’t believe this.“

„All I’m saying is there’s no need to rush into anything when you’ve barely known him for a month.“

„I’m not rushing into… We’re trying to get past our issues, okay? I thought you’d be glad that I’m making friends.”

„Robby.“

„What?“

„It’s great that you’re friends, but these things can… change, and… well. I’d just prefer if we went about this a little more safely. Just because you’re friends now doesn’t mean—“

„Doesn’t mean what?“

„All I’m asking is for you to be… responsible. And maybe the responsible thing is keeping the door open.“

Robby feels like he’s in the twilight zone. LaRusso’s never had a problem with Miguel before. Yeah, they were clearly not actually doing homework, but considering both their grades, it’s clear Robby’s much more of a bad influence than Miguel could ever dream of being. And this whole overprotective bullshit… as if Miguel is going to strangle him once the door is shut! This is fucking unbelievable. He can’t believe he’s putting up with this shit. 

„So you can be within face kicking distance in case he tries anything?“

„That’s not what I’m saying.“

„Well, then figure out what it is you’re saying. Because all you’re doing right now is treating Miguel like a criminal because he used to be in Cobra Kai. And if that’s the standard we’re going by, I can’t be left alone with half the people I know.“

LaRusso is starting to look as confused as Robby feels. „What?“

Robby is this close to saying something really childish and embarrassing like ‘you’re not even my real father’ or ‘don’t think you can boss me around just because you fucked my Dad; ask my mom’s boyfriends how that worked out for them’ .

„Whatever,” Robby finally snaps. “I’m going to my Dad’s house. At least he doesn’t make up bullshit rules to bully my friends.“

He stomps back into the house to collect Miguel. 

“Robby!” LaRusso calls after him.

But Robby’s already on the phone. “Hey Dad. Can you pick up Miguel and I at the McDonald’s down the road from Miyagi-Do? Yeah, now. Thanks.”

*

Johnny’s apartment is a two-bedroom apartment. Not just in the technical sense of there being a spare room besides Johnny’s bedroom, the bathroom and the kitchen/living room combo. Between all the clutter that didn’t fit elsewhere in the apartment, there’s apparently also a bed in there. No duvet and a really worn-out fitted sheet, but still. For a moment, Robby wonders if Johnny ever got banished here after fights with LaRusso or if he was more the crash-on-the-sofa type. Maybe LaRusso used to leave and sleep at Miyagi-Do or something. Yeah. Probably more likely.

Just as Robby curses himself for not having any helpful memories, he recalls a conversation with his mom, soon after he dropped out of school.

‘He said something about you moving in with him.’

Maybe this was supposed to be Robby’s room, but it never worked out. He doesn’t remember sleeping in here at all, only in the dojo at Mr LaRusso’s old house. And then Miyagi-Do.

“I’ll take the couch,” Johnny says, front door slamming shut behind him. He doesn’t seem mad that Robby decided to have a look around while he was on the phone. “You can have my bed. The one in there doesn’t even have a blanket.”

“That was supposed to be mine,” Robby says, and it’s supposed to sound like a question, but it doesn’t.

Johnny says nothing. 

“I just got off the phone with LaRusso,” he finally announces. “He says you can stay over if I take you to school tomorrow, but don’t storm off again in the future because that’s bad communication. Or some bullshit like that.”

Robby smiles. “Okay.”

He and Miguel managed to actually finish the rest of their plotting at the McDonald’s before Johnny came to pick them up, so now he has to cope without the neutralizing element of Miguel in the middle of this awkward father-son evening.

“You want dinner?” Johnny says. “Miguel’s yaya made it, don’t worry. She brings me leftovers sometimes.”

They eat in front of the TV. The food is some kind of soup or stew – Robby isn’t entirely sure what the difference is – and it’s fantastic. Honestly, he could live in this. Maybe he should stay friends with Miguel after their mission is done. For the food, of course.

After they’ve watched the final twenty minutes of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and Johnny has confidently declared raisins are dried blueberries – has this man ever eaten a fruit? Ever? – and that the first US president was Albert Einstein – looks like Miguel gets his nonexistent history skills from Johnny – they decide to turn in. Johnny lingers around a bit after he’s shown Robby where the outlets and the lightswitches in his bedroom are. Robby is just about to make a joke like “do you need a bedtime story?” when Johnny leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“So you and Miguel are banging?”

“Dad!” Robby bursts out, horrified – even more so in the moment after the initial shock when he finally figures out why Mr LaRusso was causing such a commotion earlier. Leave the door open. Be responsible. Don’t rush into anything. Jesus Christ! What the fuck?

And not only that, he immediately tattled to Johnny!

He can’t believe they’re talking about him behind his back. Sure, that’s what parents do, but come on!

Johnny lifts his hands defensively. “I don’t know! You’re always hanging out and sneaking around and LaRusso said you don’t want the door open–“

Robby buries his face in his hands. “Miguel and I are not banging.”

“I can be cool. I’m not gonna… disown you or… I mean, not that I actually own anything, you’d be inheriting debts, mostly, so–” He helplessly shrugs. “I can buy you condoms and stuff?”

“No thank you!”

Please make it stop.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’ll do Robby the favor of ending this conversation. He stares at the floor, fiddling with the beer can he’s still holding. “Robby, the stuff I said this afternoon, about normal, and… If someone said even half the stuff I think about myself to you, I’d kill them, probably. So… I don’t know. Maybe you had a point with… you know. About Kreese.”

“That’s great,” Robby says feebly, “but you won’t need to kill anybody. Because we’re not… We just aren’t. Okay? Like, I get that it’s weird we’re friends now. But we’re just friends.”

Johnny nods a couple times, and a weird little part of Robby honestly respects him a bit more for his direct approach. At least with this conversation, Robby feels like he knows what’s happening. His father leaves the room for a few seconds, then sticks his head back in the door.

“Do you need condoms… like in general? Bet you can’t steal any from LaRusso. Dude looks like hasn’t had any action in ages.”

“Yeah?”, Robby says snarkily. “And whose fault is that?”

Johnny clears his throat. “Probably LaRusso’s?” he says after a while. “Bet he cries in bed.”

“Wow”, Robby says. “Wow, Dad.”

But thankfully, that finally screws his head on straight. In bed. Oh my God. He can’t sleep in this bed. They have definitely fucked in here. And Robby has no idea how often his dad actually changes the sheets.

“Actually,” he jumps up, nearly falling over in the process. “Can I take the couch instead?”

On second thought, they probably also fucked on the couch. Statistically less used than the bed, though. Probably. They kind of seem like a couple that would do it on any available surface, to be honest.

“Are you sure?” Johnny says.

“Very.”

“Okay. Probably time I buy some new bedding and get all that garbage cleaned out.” 

He nods towards the second bedroom, and Robby pauses. That wasn’t the point at all. But honestly? 

“Yeah,” Robby says. “Might be.”

He’s going to have a bedroom at his Dad’s house. And suddenly, the rest of this messy day is stupidly small next to the hope he feels.

Chapter Text

Robby calls his mom during his lunch break the next day, and she sounds happy to hear from him. Obviously he doesn't tell her about the matchmaking. Just that things are going surprisingly okay with his Dad, who is also making an effort to get along with LaRusso, and that Robby’s doing okay in school and getting some help from his friends. Mom news, you know. Just the highlight reel.

Hawk sits next to him in detention, flicking paper balls in Robby’s direction when the teacher isn’t looking. Other than that, the Cobra Kai kids have been suspiciously quiet. 

Robby decides that since he doesn’t know what they’re up to anyways, he’ll use this quiet-before-the-storm time to his advantage. With both Kreese and the matchmaking still taking up so much of his attention, he has enough to do. And a mountain of homework on top of it all.

When he and his Dad walk into the dojo that afternoon, LaRusso pulls him aside. Kitchen radio on, so that Johnny and the other kids outside can’t hear them. He gives Robby a water bottle from the fridge and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Robby says, opening the bottle cap. “Getting the sex talk from one of you would have been bad enough. I could have done without the double attack.”

“So Johnny talked to you, too?”

“Yeah, and unlike you, he was actually very direct,” Robby grins. “He also said he’d buy me condoms.”

LaRusso makes a scandalized face. “What? That’s the opposite of what I told him to say!”

Robby frowns. “You told him to tell me to have sex without condoms?”

“No! I–”

“Cause my mom went to a school that taught abstinence only. Wait until marriage, blah blah. We know how that turned out.”

LaRusso rubs his forehead a bit and then dives into the drawer to search for his own water bottle. Finally, he finds it and stands up again. “Maybe I can be a bit… overprotective sometimes,” he sighs. “Might not have been the best way to go about it.”

“It’s okay. Like… it was awkward as hell, please don’t do that again. But you meant well, I guess. And my Dad… He was surprisingly supportive.”

LaRusso scoffs as he fills his water bottle at the tap. “I guess that’s better than I expected from the guy who thinks it’s gay for a man to own an umbrella.”

More like, better than he expected from the guy who dumped him and ran straight back into the closet. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll be back to normal in a month. 

But Robby can’t think of that conversation without also thinking of what Johnny said later that night. If someone said half the stuff I think about myself to you, I’d kill them. However embarrassing last night was for Robby, maybe it was for a good cause. The half hour in which his Dad thought Miguel and Robby might be hooking up definitely seems to have helped Johnny face some of the issues he has with internalized homophobia. Hopefully he will now actually work on those.

Robby sighs. “I know he can be an asshole sometimes. But he’s really trying. He’s not a bad person.”

LaRusso shuts off the tap again and turns around with an odd expression. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear that from you,” he says softly. “But I’m glad you think so, Robby.”

*

After training, Mr LaRusso and Robby drive to the hardware store to get a new lightbulb for the bathroom. The old one’s been flickering for a few days.

The memories have become a steady trickle by now. Arguing with Miguel on the beach. Stealing a laptop with Trey and Cruz. Most unwelcome, going over to his father’s dojo to talk to him and seeing him in the parking lot with Miguel. That’s the moment. Robby just knows it. That’s the moment he got the fuck-you job at LaRusso Auto, which led to the fuck-you karate lessons. That moment right there in the parking lot, seeing his Dad hugging Miguel like he hasn’t hugged Robby in the whole sixteen years he’s been alive.

Robby couldn’t look at Miguel for half a day, then chose to take that memory as a good sign. If the painful things are beginning to bubble up, that means he’ll soon remember more helpful things about the marriage and the divorce.

And Robby’s never been so unhappy to be proven right. 

They get to the hardware store without further incident, but then they walk by an area with screws and bolts and Robby stops dead in his tracks. This memory doesn’t feel like most of the other ones, like a jammed drawer suddenly sliding open. This one forces its way in just like the parking lot memory did. It feels like when he got his blood drawn at the hospital. The sharp pressure of a needle, and then a dull, lingering ache.

The images flash like in a movie.

Johnny standing by the other shelf. LaRusso next to Robby, holding a piece of wood. They see each other. Uncomfortable small talk about ‘projects’ and whatever. Finally, Mr LaRusso leaves them alone, and Robby says a bunch of angry things to his Dad, and his Dad calls LaRusso a dick and accuses Robby of only training with him to get revenge. As with any normal memory, Robby doesn’t fully remember the exact wording. But he remembers the eye contact, razor sharp and full of heaviness and heartbreak.

This is a post-breakup memory, clear as day.

LaRusso has stopped further down the shelf and starts walking back towards Robby. “You remembered,” he says quietly.

Instead of replying, Robby walks over to the small boxes of metal screws until he finds the right one. He carefully picks one up, then looks up at the shelf where he saw his dad, as if touching the toggle bolt can somehow conjure that day back up so Robby can reach in and fix it.

“That was after the tournament,” he says. 

“Yes. Two or three days after.”

Things must have still been fresh by then. He wonders how close to the tournament they broke up. Can’t have been more than a week.

“We had a big argument in the dojo,” LaRusso says, once again doing that freaky ‘I know exactly what’s on your mind’ thing that Robby equally hates and appreciates. “The day before the tournament, at my house. Well. Amanda’s house now. You were there, too. Do you remember it?”

Robby slowly shakes his head. “Do I want to?”

“Well.” LaRusso sighs again, deeply this time. “We should have had this conversation earlier. The doctor said you need to let memories come to you, so I won’t give you a play-by-play. But after what you said out on the lake, with you blaming yourself for my divorce… God knows what else goes on in that head of yours. So. What happened was much more mine and your father’s fault than yours. Ten times as much. Okay? Yes, you trained with me to get back at your Dad. But you’re a kid, and kids make mistakes. I handled it wrong back then. We both handled it wrong, Johnny and I.”

“No,” Robby says.

“Well, that’s nice of you, but you’ll agree with me once you remember.”

Robby stares down at his green shoes, the ones that fit now but didn’t fit last year. “No, I mean, I applied for the job to get back at my Dad,” he said quietly. “I trained with you because it was fun. And I kept training with you cause you’re important to me.”

Finally, he looks up.

LaRusso looks back at him. Gigantic brown eyes. And then he gives Robby a big hug right in the middle of the hardware store.

“You're important to me, too,” LaRusso says once they’re apart again. “And to your Dad. I hope you know that.”

Robby nods. And he does know. On some level, he does know. 

“Okay. Let’s find that stupid light bulb.”

*

On Friday, their Kreese conspiracy water break is almost over by the time Demetri looks at Robby and says “So did you also want help with the matchmaking or is that above our paygrade?”

Miguel throws a scandalized look at Sam. “You told Demetri?”

“Nobody told me anything,” Demetri protests. “You’re just very bad at being sneaky. You watched Sensei LaRusso give your Dad a mixtape and then high fived Miguel in front of everybody. Doesn’t take Miss Marple to crack that one.”

“We have it handled,” Miguel says casually. “If we need backup or a distraction or some… espionage, we’ll let you know. So far, it’s going great.”

“Yeah, the playlist clearly worked since he’s obsessed with it,” Robby summarizes. “And we do have the dojo barbecue planned. My Dad’s gonna do all the grilling so he can cook for Mr LaRusso without burning down someone’s kitchen. Also we’re thinking about doing something with Golf & Stuff, but we’re not sure about the details. And I couldn’t get a reservation at Aurelio’s for tonight. Too short term. So I made one for next week, and I’m gonna walk out on them so they can have a romantic date. Now all we need is to wait for my Dad to get it together and actually do something.”

“Hm,” Demetri says. “I feel like if we’re waiting for your Dad to come out of the closet, we might be waiting a long time. Maybe it’s better if you focus on LaRusso making the first step. He seems like he has it together.”

Sam snickers. “Yesterday at the mall, I asked my Dad ‘hey, do you have a crush on Johnny Lawrence’ and he panicked and bought me a new laptop. So… Do what you must; they clearly need the help.” 

“Do you think that experiment is replicable?” Demetri cuts in. “I could use a new laptop.”

Sam ignores him and looks at Robby. Her face is more serious now. “Look. I think your Dad’s kind of a weirdo, no offense –”

“None taken,” Robby says. “I’m with you.”

“– and I definitely think his karate style is questionable. But my Dad deserves to be happy, and if that’s what he wants, I mean… I don’t know. You have my blessing, I guess?”

Robby and Miguel both murmur a sincere thank you.

“But I’m not going through my Dad’s stuff,” she says sternly.

Robby throws a look at Mr LaRusso and Johnny, who are standing together during their water break, chatting and laughing. Like fucking business partners. 

“You won’t have to if they just get their shit together,” Robby mutters.

LaRusso says something to Johnny and Johnny laughs again, in a way that makes everybody around them forget that things between them have always been and will always be complicated.

Robby wonders what it will take for them to actively chase that feeling instead of passively happening upon it over and over again, acting like it’s the biggest fucking surprise ever how well they can get along if they want to.

“Okay, everybody!” LaRusso unexpectedly claps his hand. “Shhh. Johnny. I have an announcement. Before I forget later and you all run off into the weekend, I’d like to invite everybody to a barbecue next Wednesday after training. Sadly, with the Santa Ana winds, that’s the only day next week that we can have a nice evening outside.”

“Oh, and this is a co-dojo barbecue,” Robby adds loudly over the excited murmuring of all the dojo kids. “Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do are invited.”

“Sensei Lawrence promised me he’d man the grill,” Miguel cuts in innocently. “And he’s, like, a barbecue champion!”

But before Robby can get entirely lost in the ecstasy of a good plan, Johnny shakes his head. “Wait. Shit. Next Wednesday? Like in five days? I thought it was the week after. I have plans already on Wednesday.”

“No, you don’t," Robby protests. “You never have plans.”

His father shoots him a stern look. “Yes, I do.” 

“Really?” Robby crosses his arms. “Where are you going, then?”

It takes so long for Johnny to reply that the whole group is looking at him by the time he opens his mouth. “Bobby set me up on a date. With his friend.”

“Bobby the priest?"

“Yup.”

Demetri laughs. “Who’d he set you up with, the Virgin Mary?” 

“Yeah," Robby falls in. “Are you sure he isn’t just trying to lure you in so he can exorcize you?”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “If I come back Catholic, you’re allowed to shoot me. Happy now?”

No, Robby wants to say. All that talk about dating profiles was supposed to be to make LaRusso jealous. You’re not actually supposed to be going on dates with new people, you idiot. You’re supposed to apologize for dumping him, tell him you still love him and ask if I want to try whisky at your second wedding.

“Yeah," Robby says bitterly. “Have a good time.”

“We can have the barbecue next week instead?” LaRusso suggests. “We’ll just reschedule it. No big deal.”

“No, no!” Johnny protests. “You guys have fun. I mean, the kids have been bugging me about this barbecue like it’s fucking homecoming or something. They clearly wanna do it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” LaRusso murmurs.

Because it’s supposed to be a prime matchmaking opportunity! Robby almost yells. We can’t matchmake if one of you isn’t there!

But it’s hopeless. Johnny makes one or two jokes about how he’ll probably get stood up anyways, and LaRusso decides they’ll just do a second barbecue in two or three weeks so Johnny can prove his grilling skills.

And that’s it. The barbecue plan is on ice again.

Great, Robby thinks. Just my luck.

*

Robby spends the hour in between training and the hospital appointment in his room finishing up his homework. He thinks this might give Mr LaRusso and Johnny some more time to talk, but he can’t hear much except LaRusso typing on his computer and Johnny plundering the fridge.

Finally, it’s time for the appointment, so they start putting on their shoes.

Hopefully they’ll clear him for karate this time. Robby really needs a win today. The barbecue idea is half-dead – okay, it’s technically just rescheduled, but if the date goes well, then it might not matter anyways. Whatever friend Bobby set Johnny up with, she’s probably hideously perfect for him. 

Responsible enough to ground him a bit but funny enough to challenge him, with just the right taste in music and so chill that she won’t mind that Johnny sometimes washes dishes with his 3-in-1 shampoo when he runs out of dish soap.

Bobby wouldn’t just randomly start setting Johnny up with people if he didn’t think this could actually work. He’s a good friend like that.

If they don’t pull it off this weekend, this mission is dead.

LaRusso locks the house behind them before walking over to the Challenger. Johnny’s driving today. 

“By the way, Johnny, did you see a lightbulb anywhere? I could have sworn I put it on the counter earlier.”

“The one for the bathroom? Yeah. I installed it like ten minutes ago.”

LaRusso’s face twists into an understated smile. “How did you know that it was–”

“Because I changed in there a couple days ago,” Johnny says, as if anyone needs to be reminded of that. “After Robby had that freak fainting spell. Was like a fucking disco in there.”

They stand by the car, neither of them getting in, sizing each other up as if a simple favor like that is the scariest thing in the world.

“Well. Thank you,” LaRusso finally says, finally letting his smile off the reins.

“No worries.” Johnny lightly nudges LaRusso in the shoulder. “Wouldn’t want you to break your weak little noodle arms.”

LaRusso shakes his head, laughing. “You’re such an idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

*

Robby doesn’t get cleared for karate, fucking obviously, because clearly everyone’s out to get him. (More likely because Johnny just HAD to mention that Robby got dizzy and fell down like a fucking Jane Austen character, and there’s really no way to explain to your doctor that that was actually a super fake act to get your Dad to take his shirt off in front of your other Dad.)

Johnny messes up Robby’s hair in the parking lot. “I know just the thing to cheer you up. We’ll go to Wingman’s. It’s a shithole, but the food’s the best you’ll ever have. I promise.”

The bar is only a few streets over, so it’s a short drive. Robby expects an X to be sharpied onto his hand so he doesn’t get served alcohol, but the bouncer is all but asleep on his barstool and doesn’t seem to give a shit either way. The furniture and the clientele look equally sad and dirty. 

Damn. His dad really wasn’t exaggerating. This place is a dump.

To Johnny’s boundless joy, LaRusso complains about how he should have brought hand sanitizer from the hospital – right until he takes his first bite of chicken wings.

“Nothing to say now, huh?” Dad gloats. “Yeah, I fucking thought so.”

LaRusso throws him a spiteful smirk and keeps chewing.

The barbecue sauce is possibly the best one Robby’s ever had, and the chicken falls apart in his mouth, only held together by the impossibly crispy skin. Damn, this food is good.

“Remind me to get a rabies shot after this,” LaRusso murmurs. 

“Sure thing,” Johnny drawls, stealing the rest of LaRusso’s wing. “Remind me to get you a bonus card, princess.”

LaRusso is still busy with his sarcastic rebuttal of “yes, Johnny, the food is great – do you want that notarized? Do you want me to get it tattooed? How do I get you to shut up, hm?” when some guy from the bar staggers to his feet and decides to take a detour by their table.

“Bunch of fairies in my favorite bar,” he mumbles as he passes by. “Fucking hell.“

Robby freezes with his food halfway to his mouth.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. „Piss off,“ he shouts, flicking his beer cap right at the back of the guy’s head. “Nobody asked for your opinion.”

The drunk turns around. He looks like he slept here. Smells like it, too. After a moment, his eyes land on Robby, and his face splits into a mean grimace. „Hey kiddo, who’s your real daddy? Huh?“

Suddenly, Dad’s on his feet, between Robby and the swaying man, and he grabs him by the collar. „You talk to him again, I’ll punch you into next Friday, got it, Frank?“

„Johnny, sit down,“ LaRusso hisses.

Frank squints and lets out a rattling laugh. „Johnny! Fuck, it is you. Haven’t seen you in months.“

“Didn’t miss you,” Johnny snarls, letting go of Frank so he stumbles back towards the bar, wheezing and coughing.

LaRusso is on his feet too, now, putting a hand on Johnny’s arm. “Come on. We can just get our food to go. Don’t bother with this asshole.”

„So that’s what you’ve been up to?” Frank slurs, pointing at LaRusso. “Scrooge McDuck the Auto King? Really? You used to be at that bar bragging about how much pussy you got.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. This is gonna be bad. Not now Frank, Robby almost yells. He's busy unlearning shit, we don't need you messing with his progress right now!

But Johnny only shrugs defiantly and raises his chin. “Not my fault you’re such a gullible little bastard.”

“Johnny. Come on. He’s not even worth it.”

Frank stares into space for a bit, processing. Then he smirks, pounding a fist on the barstool next to him. “Come on, man! At least tell me you’re the one doing the fucking.“

Johnny takes a threatening step towards him. “Speaking of, is your wife still fucking your brother?“

Frank sneers. „’s your kid still hate you?“

“I mean…” Johnny shrugs and looks over at Robby, as if he’s passing on an academic question to his colleague.

„Can you leave?“ Robby says a lot more confidently than he feels.

Frank stumbles back and forth a few times, then finally mumbles, „Have fun with your girlfriend“ and takes off out the front door.

Robby exhales loudly. What the hell. 

“Linda, you gotta clean this fucking bar up,” Johnny says to the bartender, pointing after the asshole. “Your food would make a killing if you didn’t have those rats hanging around.”

“You used to hang around here all the time last year,” Linda scoffs.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “My point! That’s not a good sign.”

Robby watches LaRusso and Johnny sliding back into their seats.

„Fucking Frank,“ Johnny murmurs as he settles in the booth. „That guy’s always been a piece of shit. At least I gave him a piece of my mind.“

LaRusso sighs while he hands Johnny a napkin. „Yes, and you had barbecue sauce on your face the whole time. Also, this conversation would have lasted ten minutes less if you had just told him we’re not together.“

Johnny wipes his mouth off and throws the napkin on the table. „Not like that’s the fucking point.“

„You realize he’s going to tell all his buddies you’re gay, right?“

Johnny snorts. „What, the raccoons in the back alley? Yeah, I’m real worried what they think of me.“

He bites into another wing.

LaRusso looks like he’s opening an expensive gift that he only ironically put on his wishlist and didn’t expect anyone to actually buy for him.

Robby pretends he doesn’t notice. He’s getting better and better at this.

When he checks his phone, more for an excuse to have something to look at than out of real curiosity, he notices he has four missed calls from Demetri. Damn.

He opens the group chat.

DEMETRI: robby

DEMETRI: robby

DEMETRI: STELLA

DEMETRI: okay idk what else to call you. if you get this bring your dads to golf & stuff! chris works there and he told us about this special tonight

SAM: okay we’re all here now, just catch up when you get this okay?

MIGUEL: ROBBY ANSWER YOUR PHONE

DEMETRI: i swear to god you better be in the morgue or something. this is the PERFECT matchmaking opportunity and you’re missing it!

This better be good. He starts typing.

ROBBY: i’m here. jesus. what’s the special.

MIGUEL: FINALLY

DEMETRI: lottery night. you play in teams of two and the team that ends up with the most tickets by midnight wins the entire pot. aka everyone else’s tickets! and i know two hyper-competitive people who could really bond over that! get your ass over here.

A grin spreads across Robby’s face.

Oh, this is going to be good.

*

Miguel’s been patiently collecting tickets by himself so Robby can join his team. Johnny is all the way on board with that until he realizes that only leaves him with one possible teammate. 

“Absolutely not,” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Come on, Miguel. Let’s just switch. I’ll be on your team and Robby can try to mitigate the damage of Noodle Arms over here.”

“Excuse me? I could win this whole thing by myself if I wanted to,” LaRusso claims, dramatically extending his arms.

Chris shrugs behind the counter. “You can try alone, Sensei LaRusso, but you’re never going to make top ten. Realistically speaking.”

LaRusso scowls. “Fine. But if we win, I get to pick the prize. I want the Game of Thrones Monopoly.”

“No way are you spending my tickets on that. We’re getting a lava lamp.” Johnny points at one of the boxes on the uppermost shelf.

“You can’t seriously want to take that home! That’s probably been here since the nineties!”

Johnny frowns. “You’ve been here since the sixties. What’s the problem?”

“You know that you can get both if you win, right?” Chris says, frowning. “Those aren’t big ticket items at all. The expensive stuff is over there. Gaming keyboards, speakers...”

“Just put us on the list,” Johnny says. “And if my lava lamp isn't here by midnight, I’ll kick your ass, got it?”

“That’s… not how arcades work,” Chris says weakly, but Johnny’s already dragged LaRusso away towards the table football corner. 

The two of them tear through the arcade like a hurricane, scattering tickets and curse words and laughter wherever they go, and Robby watches with a big smile on his face as he lazily shoots hoops with Miguel, Sam and Demetri.

Now that the would-be-winners are actually here, they need to dial it back a bit so they don’t accidentally beat them.

“Who’s still in the running?” he asks.

“Anna and Bert had to go home, and Maya’s out, too,” Sam says. “So pretty much just the four of us and a bunch of couples we don’t know. Most of them are too busy flirting to actually win that much, though. If Dad and Johnny keep that speed up, they’ll take it home.”

“Nice.”

Robby takes another shot, then wanders over to the bathroom. When he turns a corner past one of the pin-ball machines, he nearly runs into a girl. It takes a moment for her to slot into place inside the skeleton of last year he’s building in his head. Miguel’s ex-girlfriend. The last corner of their weird little love square.

“Tory. What are you doing here?” He looks back towards his friends, then at her again. “Wait, were you spying on us?”

„No,” she bites out. “I’m here for a job interview. Not that it’s any of your business.“ But she looks over his shoulder towards the rest of the Bye Bye Snake Gang. The John Kreese Must Die Club. 

Robby crosses his arms. 

„Miguel and Sam aren’t back together, if that’s what you want to know.“

Tory scoffs. „Yeah, like they’d tell you .“

She’s wearing red lipstick and a leather jacket with a Cobra Kai patch on it. It might be an old jacket, or an old patch. But somehow, Robby knows it’s not. He nods towards it. „Miguel said that you quit karate.“

„Well. I un-quit.“

Robby knows exactly what that means. „Kreese helped you.“

„What, and that’s a bad thing?“, she says, eyes narrowing.

Robby shrugs. „Not yet.“

„You Miyagi-Dos are such hypocrites. Your sensei can all but adopt you, but my sensei can’t take care of my rent?“

This is a useless conversation. First of all, Robby’s not the right person to have it. He barely knows her. And she’s not in a place where she even wants to be having it at all. He knows that with a certainty as firm as the floor beneath him. That’s how he acted last year. That’s how he felt last year. Everyone’s out to get me, get the fuck out of my way. She's not ready to be convinced of anything.

He shrugs and walks past her to get to the bathrooms, then doubles back. “Wait.”

She turns around, hesitant.

„Do you know how to get out of a headlock?“ Robby says.

She scoffs. „Are you trying to threaten me?“

And yeah, sure, without the context that Robby has, that is an absolutely wild thing to say. But it's not like telling her the whole story will actually help.

"Look," he says. “If you wanna get out okay on the other side of whatever you’re doing, that’s my advice. Take it or leave it.”

When he comes out of the bathroom, she’s gone.

*

When midnight rolls around, the tickets get counted. Despite their best efforts to slack off, it’s a tie. Demetri and Sam versus Johnny and Daniel. Chris takes them over to the basketball hoops again and flips a coin for the starting fighters.

“First tiebreaker round, Sam versus Sensei LaRusso. If there’s two points or two misses, we move on to Demetri and Sensei Lawrence, rinse and repeat. The first round with only one point decides who wins the pot.”

Robby looks at his heist team. If Sam misses and LaRusso makes it, they’re gonna win in the first round. The only problem is that Sam, even though far from a champion, is a lot better at basketball than her Dad, and there’s not a single person in here who doesn’t know that. She has to lose, but it can’t be obvious.

“You know what to do,” Robby says as he hands the basketball over.

And Sam does the impossible: She throws so close to the hoop that it actually looks like she’s trying to make it – right before the ball bounces off the rim. No tickets. Absolute perfection.

“Holy shit!” Johnny whoops. “We’re still in! We’re gonna make it first round!”

“Yeah, no.” LaRusso chuckles, accepting the ball from Sam. “This is up to you in the next round. I’m not a basketball guy, Johnny.”

Johnny steps in between him and the basket. “Not with that attitude. Look at me. Focus.” He grabs LaRusso by the shoulders, looking way too serious for what the occasion requires. Hyper-competitive doesn’t begin to describe it. “We’re already in the lead, all you need to do is maintain, right? You won the All-Valley twice. I’m objectively the most badass opponent you could wish for, and you wiped the floor with me. Okay? You’re gonna win us that lottery, no discussion!”

LaRusso nods slowly, staring Johnny down. “Johnny Lawrence, I’m gonna win you that tacky old lava lamp if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Hell yeah, you are!”

“Why are they acting like they’re about to bleed out on the battlefield?” Chris whispers. “They know second place doesn’t get killed, right?”

“Don’t even ask,” Robby whispers back.

Mr LaRusso gets into position in front of the basketball hoop, taking deep breaths and lining up his shot.

“Bring your elbow in”, Johnny says quietly.

“Hey, no helping–” Chris starts before being angrily shushed by four people.

The ball arches through the air and slides onto the side of the rim, dropping downwards in a perfect, breathless spiral. 

The machine whirs as it spits out the tickets, but the winners couldn’t care less. They’re too busy hugging and screaming and shaking each other in the middle of the arcade like the overgrown teenagers they are.

“DID YOU SEE THAT?”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

“FIRST TRY!”

“I KNOW!”

They drive home with five mini Bluetooth speakers, no less than three lava lamps, Mr LaRusso’s monopoly game and a bunch of stuffed animals because “can we get the rest in cash” is, as Chris spent seven minutes explaining to Johnny, “not how arcades work.”

The car stereo is as loud as it’ll go, and LaRusso is complaining at the top of his lungs, and Johnny’s yowling along to the music, and they look deliriously happy.

Chapter Text

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Mr LaRusso has invited Sam and Anthony over. He’s currently helping Anthony with some sort of science project out in the yard, and Robby – because he can learn from his mistakes – turned the kitchen radio on before skyping Demetri and Miguel for a debrief session. That’s as bug-proof as this house gets.

The first ten minutes are all about Kreese, because they have their priorities straight, thank you very much. Sam’s been talking to Aisha on the phone to see if she’s down to help, and they actually now have a very amorphous blob of a plan. It still requires a lot of specific details and – as Demetri claims – a lot of coding, but it’s something at least. They distribute tasks and talk about available dates, and Robby decides to be cautiously optimistic.

Then it’s matchmaking time, and Miguel immediately takes charge. “Robby had the idea of spilling the drink, Sam said we should do the dinner walkout, Demetri gave us Golf and Stuff. So I’ve been thinking. What we need now is the ultimate Miguel idea.”

“I thought the beach pics were the ultimate Miguel idea,” Robby says. “I still maintain that was one of our biggest successes.”

“That wasn’t even the beginning,” Miguel boasts.

Demetri raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know if I’m excited or concerned.”

Miguel is grinning so wide by now that it’s honestly concerning. “Seriously. This is my best plan yet. We’re gonna buy two tickets for the hockey game and send Sensei Lawrence an email that he won them.”

“Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all,” Sam laughs.

Miguel gives her a look. “Do you have any idea how many viruses I’ve had to delete off his computer because he clicked on another ad that said ‘hot babes in your area want to talk to you’? No, he won’t suspect anything.”

“Good point,” Robby says.

“Also I’m going to write that he needs to bring a guest that’s over 18 so he doesn’t invite me. It’s a Sunday game, so Bobby won’t be able to make it, because he’s a priest, and Mr LaRusso is like… the only other adult he hangs out with. And then, hear me out. Kiss cam. We bribe the kiss cam guy to put the camera on them.”

“You think they’ll kiss in front of a thousand people?” Robby says skeptically. “Mr I’m Not Even Gay It’s The Testosterone ?”

“We will boo them from the last row and call Sensei Lawrence a pussy. Then he’ll do it for sure.”

“Or he’ll stand up to kick your ass and find out that it’s you.”

"I mean..." Miguel shrugs. "If they're not ready, they're not ready. No biggie. I don't think either of them will make a move if the other one doesn't seem into it. But if they are ready, this could be the push they need!"

“But if we need tickets for us, too, that’ll be way too expensive,” Demetri objects. “What does one ticket cost? Thirty dollars? Fifty? And we need bribe money for the kiss cam guy? Forget it. That’s like three hundred dollars.”

“Okay,” Sam says. “I have an idea. I’ll put you to the side for now, don’t say a word. DAD?”

It takes a few moments until Mr LaRusso walks in from the yard. “Hey. What’s up?”

Sam gives him her sweetest smile. “I was just talking to Robby about hockey and he said he’s never been to a game before. Can you believe that? There’s one tomorrow, right? Maybe we could go.”

“Oh,” LaRusso said. “I mean, sure. If you like. But didn’t you want to go to your Dad’s place tomorrow, Robby?”

“We should bring him,” Robby suggests innocently. “I heard people fully beat each other up on the ice. He’s gonna have a blast.”

LaRusso hesitates and looks at Sam. “You’d be okay with it if we brought Johnny along?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Okay. Then I guess I’ll call and ask him.”

Sam grins triumphantly at Robby as LaRusso takes out his phone and starts scrolling through his contacts. He has that smile on his face that he always gets these days - the slight hesitant note can't quite drown out how stupidly happy he is to be seeing Johnny tomorrow. Even though Johnny is being impossible most of the time. (Even though he still hasn't cancelled his damn date. Side eye!) 

LaRusso is not obvious in the way Johnny is obvious, in a way where anybody could see that he's acting weird. But once you've been around him for a while, like Robby has, his body language is as predictable as six am kata exercises. LaRusso's physical responses are automatic, his limbs practically tied to Johnny's, two magnets floating in and out of each other's orbit - drawing nearer, drifting apart, easy chemistry, soft release.

Robby looks over at the laptop where Miguel and Demetri are keeping quiet rather well, and suddenly realizes –

Wait. This was Miguel’s plan. They need to bring him along. It’s only fair.

“Can Miguel come, too?”, he bursts out.

“Yeah, Dad,” Sam immediately backs him up. “We need to bring Miguel.”

LaRusso’s gaze wanders from his phone to Robby to Sam and then back to Robby, confusion painted over his whole face. Then he shakes his head and lifts his hands in surrender. “You know what? I learned my lesson. I’m not even going to ask. Sure.”

*

On Sunday, LaRusso drives by Amanda’s house to pick up Sam and Anthony for the hockey game. Johnny and Miguel are going to meet them at the stadium.

Robby’s seen their house from the outside a couple times now. But when LaRusso climbs out of the car to ring the doorbell, it’s as if some strange force compels Robby to unfasten his seatbelt and walk over to the side of the house. The home dojo that he slept in. Trained in.

The door is ajar, and looks just like he remembers it when he steps inside. The walls, the floor, the light particles floating in through the windows like time moves more slowly in here.

There’s a broken trophy on a shelf.

Robby looks at it, biting his lip.

He remembers exactly how it broke.

This memory should feel like being hit in the chest by a baseball. But Robby’s been waiting for this too long. He’s ready to catch it. This is it, then. The innermost corner of the labyrinth. The last button on the elevator.

He cradles the moment in his hands, dipping his whole consciousness into it. Somehow he’s always known he was there for the breakup. 

It begins with Robby alone. It begins with a car pulling into the driveway.

The unmistakable voices of his father and Daniel LaRusso. Laughing. Teasing. Flirting. Talking about getting onto the mat together. 

Yeah. He doesn’t need to think that metaphor through to its logical conclusion. They had a nice night out, they were reasonably buzzed and they’d come back here to have some undisturbed fun together. Just once, LaRusso laughs. His father sounds thrilled at the thought.

Robby stares at his younger self who’s standing there like a stupid Hitchcock bomb under the table. He desperately wills himself not to go off. But this is a memory. That’s not how they work. His sight goes blurry at the edges as he watches LaRusso walk in. Watches him turn back to Johnny who’s following him inside, all stumbly and excited. 

There’s a mess of exclamations and accusations hurrying through Robby’s brain as if they know they’re not welcome. Johnny shoves Mr LaRusso into the wall. The trophy breaks. Robby’s in between them, protecting Mr LaRusso, and Johnny stares at them both.

And Johnny leaves.

This is the moment he found out Robby was being taught by LaRusso. And it was the moment Robby chose LaRusso over his father.

The memory’s frozen around him. Two Robbys and one LaRusso. 

It’s just as bad as he feared. But it doesn’t hurt as much as Robby thought it would. He’s a factor in all this, that can’t be denied. But he’s far from the only factor, and far from the worst. And honestly – he can live with that.

“There you are.” LaRusso says. Robby turns around to see him standing in the door. Two Robbys and two LaRussos.

He looks at them side by side. LaRusso ten seconds after being dumped. LaRusso about to go to a hockey game with his ex. He looks softer now, Robby thinks. Less on guard. Robby has remembered the heart of this breakup, but it's flattened out under the weight of everything that happened since. He doesn't need to inspect every molecule of sand in the great hourglass. It'll keep pouring either way.

“Everyone’s ready," LaRusso says. "Are you coming?”

Robby nods. He passes through his former self as if through water.

*

Sam slides into her seat right before the game starts, arms crossed and fuming. “She wouldn’t take my money.”

“What?”, Miguel whispers.

“She wouldn’t take my money!” she complains. “I offered that girl fifty dollars to get them on the kiss cam and she’s all like ‘we don’t take orders, this isn’t McDonalds’. Thanks for nothing, Emilia. I’m really sorry, guys. What do we do now?”

Robby shrugs.  “Guess we’re watching a hockey game.”

Their seats are in the second row. Anthony, then LaRusso, Johnny, Miguel, Robby and finally Sam by the aisle. He looks over at his Dad, who’s tossing popcorn into Anthony’s mouth over LaRusso’s head. Robby’s pretty sure Anthony only agreed to this because every once in a while, the popcorn lands on LaRusso instead and he absolutely hates it.

The game starts with immediate action, slashes of color flying across the ice, people smashing into each other.

Sam had told him to expect a lot of physical contact, but Robby is still surprised how often people collide. There’s brawls breaking out left and right; people swarming to the fight like there’s free snacks. Every other minute, the whistle goes off. Some of the attacks actually seem to be allowed, because the ref doesn’t even blink, let alone deal out punishments. 

One guy grabs his opponent and flips them over the side straight into the bench. Johnny cheers, spilling beer on his pants. 

“Hell yeah! Did you see that? Imagine how fast our match would have been over if I’d been allowed to just throw you off the mat!”

Mr LaRusso laughs. “Since when do you care if you’re allowed?”

Johnny grabs a handful of popcorn and throws it at him.

“Come on, Johnny. That’s a waste of good popcorn!”

“Who cares? I’m not paying. Catch.”

A piece of popcorn bounces off LaRusso’s nose, and Johnny suggestively wiggles his eyebrows as LaRusso rips the bag towards him. 

“Christ. I can’t take you anywhere!”

And honestly, Robby thinks, this is decent progress from ‘how dare you pay for my coffee, now listen to my ten minute rant’. 

Johnny loudly boos when the guests get the first goal. With how much stupid popcorn flirting he’s doing, Robby’s surprised Johnny has even noticed which team he’s supposed to be cheering for.

With how fast everything’s moving, Robby can barely tell what’s even going on on the field. Where the hell is the puck? Why is that guy mad all of a sudden? He doesn’t know what he’d do without the scoreboard.

“We’re putting more pucks to the net, but they’re not going through,” LaRusso explains. “They’ve only done two shots on goal and one ended up going in. Not a good sign if we don’t improve our aim.”

“Improve this aim,” Johnny says, throwing another piece of popcorn. This time, LaRusso actually opens his mouth and catches it.

“Point, LaRusso,” he says smugly.

“I’m sorry?” Johnny protests. “That was my throw.”

“I had to move to catch it. If I have to move to catch it, that means you fucked up the throw and it’s my point.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Robby leaves them to their discussion and leans back to enjoy the game. Both teams get another goal before the whistle finally ends the first third, and the ads start playing on the Jumbotron.

Robby is almost out of Sprite. He’s still debating whether he should get more snacks when the ads are suddenly over and the kiss cam comes on.

He crosses his arms and falls back in his seat to get ready for some hate-watching. Some people had things riding on this kiss cam, Emilia!

An older couple is up first, and Robby’s immediately mollified. Okay, this is kind of cute. The whole stadium goes ‘aw’ when the old man gives his wife a kiss. The next couple is a ginger woman with bright red lipstick and her Rasputin beard boyfriend. He comes away with half her lipstick on him. Robby chuckles. Okay, maybe Emilia knows what she’s doing. Then the camera cuts again, and Robby nearly drops his cup.

It’s LaRusso and his Dad.

Emilia! That absolute legend really turned down their money only to put them on screen for free. Miguel screams so enthusiastically it could pass for an exorcism, and Sam and Robby cheer and clap as loud as they can. (Anthony doesn't even look up from his tablet, but honestly, the kid's barely twelve. It's not like they're desperate for his support.)

Johnny, who’s been quietly talking to LaRusso, the two of them affectionately leaning into each other, turns around to them.

“What’s the matter with you? Jesus!”

“LOOK!”

Miguel points upwards. He’s half visible on the screen next to Johnny.

Johnny looks up at the screen and dissolves into nervous laughter. Christ, that man’s a mess.

LaRusso follows his gaze and laughs - and then briefly looks over to Johnny as if to check if he's up for it! Wow. Johnny only briefly makes eye contact and immediately looks away again, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“We’re not together,” LaRusso shouts, making a half-hearted "cut" gesture to the camera, but it dies amidst the laughter and cheering from everyone around them.

“That’s the karate guy!” someone shouts from behind them.

LaRusso chuckles as he brings a hand up to his face. “Of course this would happen! Of course!” 

The camera cuts away again. Welp. Okay. Worth a try.

It was a long shot, to be honest. Robby toasts to Sam and Miguel and knocks back the rest of his drink. 

The kiss cam continues. A blonde mom who gives her toddler daughter a kiss on the head. A Black family with matching T-Shirts – the two young sons jump with joy when they see themselves on screen and the dad kisses his wife so enthusiastically he knocks her baseball cap off. An Asian girl who chooses to chug her beer instead of kissing the guy next to her. Another older couple, who wave enthusiastically after their kiss is over. A young lesbian couple with matching undercuts.

And then – Emilia needs a fucking Oscar, to be honest – a second chance for LaRusso and Johnny. LaRusso gives the camera an amused ‘I can’t believe you’ headshake and Johnny barks out another laugh and then looks at LaRusso, biting his lip. Neither of them is very convincing in their denial, especially since LaRusso is also starting to go a little red and Johnny's arm has at some point wandered onto the backrest of LaRusso's seat. Honestly, it's like they're not trying at all.

While the kiss cam moves on to new victims and Miguel swears he’s going to get Emilia’s name tattooed once he turns 18, LaRusso leans over and says something inaudible in Johnny’s ear. Johnny gifts him an easy, bright laugh – an actual one, not one of the nervous ones – and leans in as well so he can reply. They’re nearly cheek to cheek now. LaRusso reaches into the popcorn bag and eats a few pieces before leaning back in and making another comment. Johnny nods and replies with a flirty grin and LaRusso laughs, and suddenly it doesn’t even matter how the rest of this evening goes.

For that brief moment alone it was totally worth it.

And the kiss cam finds them again. Third time’s the charm.

LaRusso, who’s been talking into Johnny’s ear up until half a second ago, is in the process of slowly pulling away from the conversation. But at the angle they’re being filmed, especially with his hand still in Johnny’s lap where the popcorn bag is hidden by the seats in front of them, it looks like he’s pulling away from a stolen kiss.

Naturally, the stadium goes nuts. 

LaRusso looks up at the screen. His mouth falls open. Johnny sticks his tongue out and wiggles it around suggestively, to the great amusement of the entire audience.

By the time the camera cuts away again, LaRusso is shaking with delight. “What’s wrong with you, Johnny?”

Robby’s not even looking at the screen anymore. It’s a tough act to follow.

*

The home team loses rather brutally, but Robby is way too hyped to care. 

LaRusso is going to drop Sam and Anthony off at home, so they’re already going ahead to his car. Miguel climbs into Johnny’s car alongside Robby. Once they’ve shut the doors, Miguel opens the window just a crack. 

They both have their phones open so that from the outside, it looks like they’re busy and distracted. LaRusso and Johnny stand by the trunk of Johnny’s car, not suspecting a thing, semi-visible in the side mirrors. Perfect.

They have to talk about the kiss cam thing now, right? They can’t just not talk about it. But LaRusso’s already turning to leave.

“Okay, say hi to Carmen for me on Wednesday, all right?”

“I’m not going out with Carmen,” Johnny says quietly.

“Oh.” LaRusso steps back into view, sounding confused. “I’m sorry, I just assumed. I figured you didn’t want to say so in front of Miguel.”

“Like I said; apparently I’m not a second date kind of guy.”

But as much as Johnny tries to make this a self-deprecating-jokes kind of conversation, LaRusso doesn’t take the bait.

“Well,” he says. “I haven’t been on any date since the divorce, so…”

Miguel grabs Robby’s arm, hard, and shakes it. Honestly, big fucking mood. Holy shit. What an admission. I haven't been with anyone since you. How the hell do you answer that?

Evidently Johnny isn’t really sure either, because he’s quiet for a bit, and then says “When I saw you at the restaurant with Amanda, I thought maybe you were getting back together.”

LaRusso chuckles. “No, it’s just… You know. We have kids together, and the dealership… and sometimes conversations need to be had and it’s better to not have them on an empty stomach.”

“Right.” Johnny clears his throat.

“Besides, I don’t want to bring anyone back home right now. Not while things with Robby are still so touch and go. I was looking for a real apartment before the accident, but I had to put that on the back burner. Obviously.”

A brief silence.

So they’re not going to talk about the kiss cam at all?

“So you didn’t fuck the UPS guy?” Johnny says, like that’s a completely normal thing adults say to each other in parking lots.

“What?” LaRusso blurts out.

“That idiot who was going on about big packages.”

Indulgent laughter. “No, Johnny, I am not sleeping with the UPS guy. I had some bo staffs delivered. They’re solid wood and seven feet long. He would have remembered that delivery.”

“So he wasn’t talking about your dick,” Johnny clarifies.

Jesus Christ, Dad. Get it together.

“No,” LaRusso says, and the smile in his voice is audible. “But I appreciate you defending me against the terrible allegations of having an impressive package. Truly don’t know what I‘d do without you.”

Johnny takes a deep breath. “But would you go for it if you had a real apartment? Cause he clearly wanted you to… like… I don’t know. Put your fingers in his butt or something.”

LaRusso does his ‘Johnny Motherfucking Lawrence, I swear to God’ sigh. “I think that's my cue to go home. See you tomorrow, okay?”

And he starts walking off.

“I have an apartment,” Johnny calls after him, like it’s just occurred to him.

Robby and Miguel are holding their breath in the backseat. Miguel squeezes his arm so hard that Robby just knows it’s going to bruise, but he doesn’t even care. It’s happening.

Oh my God. This is actually happening.

I have an apartment. Come over to mine. I’m not dating Carmen, you’re not dating Amanda. Why don’t you come to my apartment? I’ll cancel my date. Let’s try again.

“I mean, I’m just…” Johnny says, gesturing clumsily. “I’m just saying, I could take Robby sometimes. If you wanna bring someone home.”

What?

Robby almost flings the car door open and yells This is not the right moment to learn how to be the bigger person, Dad! Cancel your fucking date!

I mean, it’s really sweet and all, the whole ‘I want you to be happy’ thing. Better than threatening to beat up some poor delivery guy who had the gall to look in LaRusso’s direction half a second too long.

But come on!

“Good luck on your date,” LaRusso finally says, and he somehow makes that sentence sound like a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Johnny.”

Johnny takes about ten seconds to breathe after LaRusso is gone. Then he gets in the car. While he pulls out of his parking spot, he mutters something like "Who does he think he is with his... stupid tan and his stupid shoes."

For the rest of the drive, Robby and Miguel can barely get a coherent sentence out of him.

Chapter Text

Miguel puts down a tray with four fancy-looking cocktails with a flourish. “Ta-da. Miyagi-Do Mai Tais and Eagle Fang Espresso Martinis.”

LaRusso raises his eyebrows and Miguel shrugs.

“There’s not a lot of drinks that start with E. Sorry.”

“Miguel, you’re not giving Espresso Martinis to a bunch of sophomores.”

“I know, I know. Those are for the adults only.”

“You know I’m the only adult at this party, right?”

“Well, Sensei Lawrence might still show up later, right? And I made cocktails for us, too.” He proudly points at the second tray full of orange drinks. “Virgin Sex on the Beach. I don’t know if that has a real name.”

“Sex in the dojo?” Demetri suggests.

“No! No sex in the–” LaRusso takes a deep breath. “You know what? I’m not having this conversation. I’m going to go and deal with the grill.” He stomps away, then immediately doubles back and grabs one of the Espresso Martinis. “And I’m taking this with me.”

Sam has draped her fairy lights over the fence. Folding chairs are set up in groups, and there’s even a buffet table in the kitchen with potato salad, mac and cheese, watermelon slices, and cake from Miguel’s yaya’s. All in all, the Miyagi-Dos and Eagle Fangs are mingling surprisingly well, and the music isn’t bad either. It’s exactly what Robby hoped it’d be, except for the fact that his Dad left for his stupid date half an hour ago. 

Both he and Miguel independently tried to get more information out of him, but Johnny just shrugged them both off.

“It’s a blind date,” he claimed. “I don’t know either.”

Thanks. Really helpful.

Now instead of being seduced by Johnny’s grilling skills, LaRusso is fiddling with the grill all by himself, phone cradled in between his ear and shoulder. “No, Amanda, I do not know what you just saw on Youtube. And I most certainly do not want to talk about it.”

Robby knows exactly what Amanda saw on Youtube, and despite LaRusso’s nervous denial, he probably knows, too. The hockey stadium Kiss Cam, featuring the kiss that didn’t even really happen. It was posted two hours ago, and Demetri has already commented about five hundred party emojis.

“What do you mean, it’s tagged LaRusso Auto? Well… un-tag it! I can’t deal with this right now. I gotta go.” LaRusso hangs up and sighs.

“Now how much of the charcoal…” he murmurs.

Robby and Sam are sitting by the side of the pond and letting their feet dangle in the water while slurping their mocktails and watching LaRusso mess around with the grill. 

“I don’t get why my Dad didn’t cancel his date,” Robby says, frustratedly kicking his legs. “It went so well at the hockey game. They’re having fun. They’re getting along. They’re flirting all the time. I don’t get it.”

“Well, I mean… first steps are always hard,” Sam says. “In any situation, but I think especially if you’re two middle aged men who used to hate each other.”

Which would make sense if this was an actual first step. Considering they already did all the first steps once before – are you into guys, are you into me, are you sure, okay let’s go – that explanation kind of doesn’t apply here.

“Sam,” Robby says after a brief battle with his conscience. “There’s something you don’t know. About your Dad and my Dad.”

Sam squints into the sun. “You know what? Don’t even tell me. I already know enough details I never wanted to know. ”

“It’s just, this thing has been going on for… um…”

“Robby. Seriously. I’m on board with this,” she assures him. “You don’t need to tell me if you heard them hooking up or something. I know there was no overlap with my mom, because he wouldn’t do that to her. And that’s all I need to know. Okay?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

Just like he told himself last week. Not like Mr LaRusso can’t take that bullet once things are actually sorted out.

“And besides, even if this is the… I don’t know, the fifth step instead of the first, I think it’s still hard. My Dad has his pride and your Dad…” She sighs. “I’m not even going to attempt to understand what your Dad has going on, but it’s clearly a lot.”

Yeah. Clearly. Robby just hopes that this date isn’t a further attempt by Johnny to fully maneuver himself back into the closet.

Finally, Sam steals the strawberry from his glass rim and eats it. “Anyways. I heard you got the sex talk from my Dad?”

Robby groans. “Oh God, don’t mention it.”

„Well, one time I was alone with my ex in a classroom during a school dance, nothing going on at all, and my dad nearly axed him in half. So. Take it as a compliment. If he’s out here giving everyone who looks at you the third degree, that’s as good as adoption papers.“

Robby almost says, You know there’s nothing going on with me and Miguel, right? but that sounds suspiciously like something that his Dad might say about LaRusso, so he says nothing instead and looks away.

Mr LaRusso is frustratedly snacking from his watermelon plate and his espresso martini is already half empty.

What a fucking mood.

*

Half an hour later, most people are happily dancing and snacking while LaRusso is still trying to start a fire that the wind doesn’t blow out again after five seconds. The Bye Bye Snake club is assembled in their usual corner, relaxing and vibing to the music while Miguel is playing bartender and whipping up another round of Sex in the Dojo mocktails. 

Demetri stares over to the folding table next to the grill, where a second nearly-empty espresso martini glass has joined its fallen brother. “Sam, why is your father getting hammered at eight pm?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Apparently that’s what emotionally repressed men do when the karate teacher they have a crush on is going out with another girl.”

Miguel pensively sips his Sex in the Dojo and points at Robby. “Wait. Why don’t you just text your Dad and say there’s an emergency?”

“Because he’ll get really pissed when he finds out I lied, and then the evening’s ruined.”

Demetri shrugs. “Rage is an aphrodisiac.”

“Yeah, when they’re pissed at each other, not when they’re pissed at me!”

“Just try anyways,” Sam pleads. “Look how sad he looks! I can’t watch this.”

Robby hesitantly opens up his chat with his Dad.

ROBBY: Dad, please come by the dojo! There’s an emergency.

JOHNNY: SURE AND IF I call larusso right now, he’ll confrim tht?

Robby groans. “Mr LaRusso is such a bad influence. My Dad is starting to develop logical thinking skills. I hate this.”

ROBBY: okay you caught me. just trying to save you from your boring date

ROBBY: it is really boring, right?

JOHNNY: do me a faVOR AND TELL LARUSSO THAT U R GROUNDED 👮🏽🚨🚓

ROBBY: come here and tell him yourself

When Robby dejectedly shows the conversation around in the group, Sam only looks at the screen for a moment before focusing back on her father, who’s leaning against the table at a rather odd angle. “Quick question, Miguel. How much alcohol did you put in the espresso martinis?”

Miguel shrugs. “The recipe said 50 milliliters of vodka but I didn’t know what that was in ounces so I just winged it. My yaya says the only thing worse than a weak man is a weak drink.”

Oh no. This could be bad. Like very, very bad. Actual emergency bad.

“Miguel, how many ounces per drink?” Robby asks carefully.

“I don’t know… Three or four? Is that bad?”

“Four ounces plus coffee liquor? Miguel! Seriously?”

Demetri raises his eyebrows. “That means he drank like... five cocktails in an hour.”

“Oh no,” Miguel says, looking crestfallen. “Shit, I’m so sorry! Should we call an ambulance?”

“Might be the best idea,” Sam nods. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

The three of them exchange unsure glances that all finally land on Robby.

“We don’t need an ambulance,” Robby sighs. “He’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that!” 

“Yeah, my mom’s in rehab,” Robby replies coolly, wincing at everyone’s reaction. “Unfortunately, I do know. He doesn’t drink that much throughout the week, but he’s not a total lightweight, so I’d say he’ll go up to 0.2 percent blood alcohol. Maximum. We just need to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t drink anything else. He’ll feel dead tomorrow, but he’ll be fine. Sam, you take the first shift, okay?” 

She nods. Nobody will make eye contact. And Robby thought his collection of late night documentary facts were a sad life skill to have. Yeah. Turns out nothing beats 'my mom's an alcoholic so now I can breathalyse adults from across the room'.

Robby clears his throat. “Just kind of… hover and keep him away from open fire and the Miyagi Mai Tais.” He nods towards the two remaining glasses in the kitchen.

Well. Scratch that.

Glass, singular.

“Guys. Where’s the second mai tai glass?”

It takes three seconds of searching the garden with mounting panic until Demetri spots LaRusso and slaps Robby’s arm. “There. On the way back to the grill. Do your thing, Keene. Now.”

Robby sighs. He knows exactly what Demetri means. He’s going to have to fall again.

One minute later, the murderous mai tai has safely seeped into the grass, Demetri has graciously offered to wash out the glass, and Sam has engaged her dad in a conversation about how they really need to clean up the backyard paths, so many giant cobblestones around here, no wonder Robby tripped.

Miguel’s still furiously googling how much grown adults have to drink until they die of alcohol poisoning.

Christ, what an evening. And on top of all this, the grill is still cold.

*

He hears his father before he sees him.

“Jesus, LaRusso. This is a party. You in quarantine or something?”

Robby’s dad stalks across the yard in a blue plaid shirt, right past the groups of kids and towards the lone figure of Mr LaRusso next to the grill. Wait, where did Demetri go? Did he seriously abandon his shift?

“Johnny?” LaRusso lifts a hand against the sun with a tipsy smile. “Hey! You’re back already? How’d the date go?”

“Fantastic, clearly,” Johnny says bitterly. “Wanna ask me twelve more stupid questions about it or do you want to get the meat?”

“I’m not sure ‘f that’s a good idea. The grill is bein’... very uncooperative.”

“You let me handle the grill. Sit down.”

Johnny's been gone an hour and a half, two hours at most. With the drive there and back, that’s barely an hour of actual date time. Damn, that must have been a disaster. But Robby honestly doesn't even try to feel bad. This is what this evening should have looked like all along.

Well. Maybe without the Shit Did Miguel Just Kill Sam’s Dad freakout, but hey. You win some, you lose some. And now they actually have another adult here to make sure that LaRusso doesn’t set himself on fire. Johnny’s going to keep an eye on him.

Mr LaRusso is slurring his words and walking like Mr Bean on speed, but hey. At least he can still form full sentences. And he can't do too much damage sitting down.

This could still be cute, right?

Demetri slides into the seat next to Robby. “I fucked off when I saw Sensei Lawrence coming. Perfect timing. No need to thank me.”

He silently high fives the rest of the gang.

Johnny has the fire going after the first try, and he’s serving the first round of burgers after fifteen minutes. With a beer in hand and LaRusso vaguely smiling up to him from his lawn chair, he’s starting to flip the second round of burger patties. Robby can practically watch his shoulders relax in time lapse.

He didn’t quite catch how their conversation started, but Johnny seems to be in the middle of a speech about how he can tell new money from old money by a guy’s suit. „Sid’s secretaries used to drag me around every store in town so I’d look presentable at the country club. Your suits are the right length, but they’re too wide in your shoulders. Cause you’re in between sizes, but you don’t get them tailored.“

„No,” LaRusso says, the sunset painting his astonishment golden orange. “I don’t. You’re right.“

This isn’t even a romantic topic of conversation in the slightest! Robby’s pretty sure that Johnny could tell LaRusso that he ran over a squirrel on his way here and LaRusso would giggle and bat his lashes at him.

Miguel’s cocktails must have really fucked him up.

„Might sell a couple more cars if your suits actually fit,” Johnny teases. “Although you must be doing okay if you’re just giving them away, huh?“

He flips another patty.

LaRusso crosses his legs and shoots a scrutinizing look at Johnny. „That really bothers you. The cars. You keep bringin’ it up.“

“You know I don’t want to be in anyone’s pocket.”

“And you know I don’t pay for things to get favors.”

“No, you just do it to feel superior. Much better.”

LaRusso chuckles, sipping the mocktail that Sam got him. “That’s… maybe a little bit true. Sometimes.”

Johnny does a double take, then smiles down at him, obviously caught off guard by the honest answer. “You know, I like you a whole lot better when you’re drunk, LaRusso.”

“Not always, though,” LaRusso says, lost in thought, eyes on the sunset. “‘s not always why I do it. Sometimes it’s just… why not. You know?”

Johnny looks down at him for a moment, then yells out, “Round two for the burgers! Next round is sausages, so if you want a burger, get one now!”

Robby stands up and walks the three steps over to the grill so that his father can balance a patty onto this plate.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thank God you texted me,” Johnny says with a nudge to Robby’s shoulder and a nod in LaRusso’s direction. “His barbecue skills really are an emergency. Never should have doubted you.”

“Be nice!” Robby warns him before he steps away, but Johnny unceremoniously hands the barbecue tongs off to Miguel, who's next in line, and pulls Robby to the side until they're out of earshot.

"How much has he had?", he says under his breath, nodding towards LaRusso who is very closely examining a blade of grass he's plucked from the ground.

Robby winces.

"It was an accident."

"That's not what I asked."

"Seven ounces, we think. We're not sure. Plus coffee liquor."

"Ouch." Johnny sighs. "Okay, we'll make sure he survives tonight and then we'll decide how much trouble you guys are in tomorrow."

"It wasn't on purpose," Robby tries to explain, but Johnny cuts him off with a look.

"Next time you guys wanna secretly get drunk, don't be this dumb about it."

And before Robby can correct him, Johnny has walked off towards the grill and stolen the tongs back from Miguel.

"Okay, I got five more!" he announces. "Any takers?"

Miguel, Sam and Robby decide to wait around by the grill until Demetri has finally made it to the front of the line.

“Thanks,” Demetri says when the patty lands on his burger bun. “Have you seen the forks, Sensei LaRusso?”

“Why would you need a fork?” Johnny complains. “What the hell is wrong with kids these days? You gotta eat a burger like you eat pussy.”

Miguel closes his eyes in defeat.

Robby nearly chokes on air. He meets Sam’s incredulous gaze, which seems to say something like, “That’s the guy you want to set up with my Dad? Really?”

Honestly, Robby can’t even blame her.

LaRusso looks like he’s in actual physical pain.

Demetri is the only person who doesn’t stare like he’s just been doused with cold water. “Not going to lie”, he says, accepting his plate from Johnny, “that is much better sex advice than I expected from you.”

“Shut the hell up,” Johnny protests. “I’m an unforgettable lay.”

“Definitely an unforgettable conversationalist,” LaRusso snorts. “Anyways, I think all the… present thirteen year olds would appreciate it if we could… change the topic.”

Robby and his friends settle back into their seats to eat their food. Demetri has put a watermelon slice on his burger and refuses to listen to everyone else’s concern about how disgusting of a combination that is. Robby receives similar comments when he reveals he loves putting peanut butter on his burgers, which is very different, thank you very much.

Uncultured idiots.

In the meantime, Johnny has shoveled a whole package of hot dogs onto the grill. 

“So if we put all that stuff aside,” LaRusso babbles, still looking up at Johnny like he’s trying to eat him for dessert, like there’s not a dozen curious teenagers around them who can see, “and if you weren’t worried about me holdin’ things over your head. Or showin’ off or whatever. What would you get?”

“I’m not answering that,” Johnny grins. “Hell no.”

“Just in theory!” LaRusso slides further down in his seat. He looks absolutely blissed out. He looks like the hangover’s going to be worth it. “I promise ’m not armed, okay? My credit card’s in the house.”

A brief silence. “Okay. Fine. Right now? I want a new paint job for the Challenger. Can’t expect my students to leave Cobra Kai behind while I’m driving around in their colors.”

LaRusso looks him right in the eyes, finger tracing the rim of his empty mocktail glass. “That’s actually very thoughtful. I’ll pay for that if you want.”

Johnny incredulously shakes his head and laughs. “What happened to ‘just in theory’?”

“I can also buy you a new car if you’d like that better,” LaRusso counters shamelessly.

The Bye Bye Snake club members are all in various stages of eating, grinning, silently fist-bumping and regretting all their life decisions. Robby’s firmly in the latter camp. How much longer will he have to listen to them flirting until one of them finally does something? The grill hisses loudly, but Johnny doesn’t look down to check. 

“You know people don’t usually spend that much money on people they hate,” Johnny says lightly.

“Two weeks ago you spent four precious dollars on onigiri.”

“And?”

“The Johnny Lawrence I know would say four dollars spent on fish is four too many.”

“And he’d be right.”

LaRusso tilts his head back with curiosity.

“So what happened at the store?”

Johnny scoffs. “Fuck me if I know.”

Demetri raises his eyebrows.

And there it is, Robby thinks. Johnny Lawrence’s worst pickup line ever.

“I mean, not…” Johnny flushes a bit and looks down at the grill like it’s going to help him out. “I mean… You want a sausage?”

Johnny Lawrence’s worst pickup line ever, dethroned after only seven seconds.

Chapter Text

Sam, Demetri and Miguel are the last people to leave, and Robby walks them out to Sam’s car.

“That actually went great,” Sam says optimistically. 

“Yeah, except for the part where I poisoned Mr LaRusso!”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Miguel,” Robby says impatiently. “He’s fine. He just fell over a couple times.”

“He was singing Country Roads for like ten minutes!”

“Yeah, that was bad,” Robby admits. “But he’s okay now. Get in the car, okay? Nobody’s mad at you. See you guys at school tomorrow.” 

“Let us know if one of them proposes,” Demetri jokes, and then he shuts the door and Sam drives off.

When Robby walks back into the yard, his Dad and LaRusso sit with their backs to the tree nearest to the house.

“Everythin’s spinning,” LaRusso mutters.

Johnny chuckles, then looks up at Robby. “He got super dizzy when he got up from the table. I’ll get him to sleep in a bit, okay? And then I’ll clean up around here. Go to bed.”

“‘kay,” Robby says. “Good night.”

He leaves the door to the main room open, then goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. From back here, it’s actually hard to hear what they’re talking about, but once he’s in his room, the window slightly cracked, the voices drift over to him almost effortlessly.

“...always knew you were a lightweight, LaRusso.”

“Hey, that’s no fair. Those were the stronges’ martinis… I’ve ever…”

He trails off, and Johnny chuckles.

“Said Eagle Fang on the label, right? I don’t know why you were expecting pussy martinis.”

“God, I feel sick. ‘m such an idiot.”

“Yeah. You accepted alcohol from a kid who doesn’t know how alcohol works,” Johnny says, but his tone is gentler than expected. “I mean, don’t worry, I’ll make him do a bunch of pushups, but you did this to yourself.”

LaRusso laughs lazily. “Honestly, you’re not wrong.”

“Hold on, say that again. I wanna film that.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna use your phone… without Miguel’s help? I should be the one filmin’.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a stretch of quiet, and Robby wonders how close they’re sitting together now. Are they looking at each other? Are they touching each other? Are they now finally uninhibited enough to talk about all the things they’ve been wanting to talk about?

“Can I as’ you somethin’?” LaRusso finally says. “You don’ have to answer.”

Johnny says nothing, so he continues.

“You mentioned… dementia in the hospital. Like you had… experience?”

That wasn’t what Robby expected at all. Evidently, it wasn’t what Johnny expected either. Normally, this is where he’d tell LaRusso that this is none of his business. But he just takes a very loud breath.

“Yeah,” Johnny says slowly. “My mom. Not dementia, but her meds made her kinda confused towards the end.”

LaRusso says nothing. Robby pictures him slumped against that tree, blinking up at Johnny, feather soft silence in his throat.

Johnny continues, voice low. “Sometimes, she went so far back in her head that she forgot we had money. She’d ask me to turn off the AC. Got mad when I put sugar in her tea. Used to make me so happy that she forgot Sid before she forgot me. I felt really disgusting about that, after she…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Robby lies in the dark, goosebumps on his arms. Johnny never talks about Robby’s grandma. He knows that she died before Robby was born. He knows that she was married to some rich asshole that Johnny hates.

Robby’s mother told him that Johnny really loved his mom, and that she was always nice to Shannon, and how messed up it is that cancer always takes the best people first. But Robby has never been close enough with his Dad to ask him about all this. He should have known better than thinking it wasn’t that important to Johnny anymore. Robby has missed his own dad for too long to assume that it ever really stops hurting.

“She asked about you sometimes,” Johnny says after a long silence. “You still keep in touch with everyone from Karate? Bobby, Jimmy, Daniel… I think after she saw me give you that trophy at the All Valley she thought we were friends. And I wasn’t supposed to disagree with her, right? So I told her you were doing okay. Busy. She always asked me to tell you hi. So. Yeah.” He breathes out. “My mom says hi, I guess?”

LaRusso makes a quiet sound, like he’s been shot but doesn’t want anybody to know. Then he murmurs “Never knew your mom came to the All Valley. ‘d she see what happened in the… you know. In the parkin’ lot?”

Johnny snorts. “Oh no. She would have torn Kreese a new asshole. And she would’ve gotten away with it too. Sid had great lawyers.”

And Robby is torn because this is kind of a heartbreaking conversation – like maybe he’s about to cry, whatever – but it’s also so magical that they’re talking to each other. Being vulnerable and giving each other that ammunition. Neither of them is sober, so it doesn’t count a hundred percent, but this is a good sign. They’re getting closer again. They’re starting to tell each other about what hurts them.

„How long’s it been?“ LaRusso finally says.

“Seventeen years. How long for you?”

„Se’en… seven years in… November.“ 

The picture of Mr Miyagi is visible through the open dojo doors from where they’re sitting, and Robby knows they’re both looking at it.

„He looks the same as when I last saw him,“ Johnny finally says.

“At the All Valley?”

“No, at… Nevermind.”

LaRusso nearly gasps. “You saw him… after?”

Johnny laughs nervously. „It’s not a good story. You don’t want to hear it.“

“Yeah, I do!“

„No, you don’t.“

“Tell me story or I’ll put ya face on the grill.“

Another laugh. „The grill’s been cold for an hour. How drunk are you?“

“Very. Very, very, very…” LaRusso trails off, and Johnny sighs. 

“You know, when I said I liked you better drunk, I meant a bit juiced, not… brain dead and colorblind.”

“Please tell me.”

Robby is seriously scared of what kind of story this might be. Did Johnny come by Miyagi’s place drunk or something? Did he do something really bad?

„Okay,” Johnny starts. “Robby was still a baby. Shannon was pissed at me but she couldn’t drive cause she’d gotten a DUI, so she made me take her to the store. And at the register, she went back because she forgot something, and she gave Robby to me for a second. And Mr Miyagi was in line at the other register.“

Shit. Why is Robby part of this story all of a sudden? I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative.

„He didn’t say anything, but he just… he looked at me, and at Robby screaming his head off, I was probably holding him way wrong, but he was wiggly, you know… And he gave me this nod, like ‘look at you, all normal and stable, good job Johnny’. But, like, I wasn’t, you know? That was the first time I’d even held Robby. Ever. In line at fucking CVS. I felt so shitty, I acted like I didn’t even recognize Miyagi. And I didn’t call Shannon back for half a year.“

The entirety of the house feels frozen in time. Outside, Johnny clears his throat like that will undo the spell. „Told you it’s not a good story.“

But LaRusso doesn’t sound the slightest bit disappointed when he speaks. He sounds absolutely mesmerized. „Mr Miyagi met Robby?“

„Well,” Johnny stammers. “More like… saw him from across the room while Robby was screaming his lungs out. If that counts as meeting, I’ve met Van Halen.“

„He never told me that,“ LaRusso whispers. 

And isn’t that the most stupid, heartbreaking thing of all time? LaRusso focuses on the idea of Mr Miyagi smiling at the baby that will one day become his student’s student, while all Johnny can remember is himself struggling to hold his son, ashamed, tense, about to abandon Robby all over again.

What the hell do you say to that?

“Johnny,” LaRusso says, his voice soft and fond. “Do the wheel technique with me.”

“What?”

“We go on the… um, on the platform. And we balance… with each other.”

Johnny stifles his laughter. „I’m not getting on that thing! You’re gonna break both our necks.“

“Come on. Please. We did so well on the warm-up!”

“No!”

“Well,” LaRusso says decisively. “I’m gonna… I’m just gonna go. And ‘f you don’t want me to fall off, you have to get on, too. Cause… the balance.”

And then there’s shuffling and heavy footsteps, and Johnny hissing “Hey! Come back!”

But it’s too late. The water splashes as LaRusso throws himself into the pond, and Johnny groans in defeat. “You can’t be serious.”

“Now you get in…” LaRusso splutters loudly. “and we… we get on from the side, okay?”

“Forget it. Come out of the pond.”

“The water is so nice.”

“Yeah, you know what’s not nice? Drowning. Come here. You can’t run away, you’re in the fucking water! LaRusso. Hey! LaRusso! Daniel.”

The splashing stops.

“You never call me that.” LaRusso’s voice has such a bright innocence to it that Robby can almost physically feel it two rooms over. Fuck.

“Come outta the goddamn pond, LaRusso.”

“Why don’t you come into the pond?”

“Because it’s the middle of the night and you’re off your tits, man. Someone’s gotta put you to bed.”

“Ooh”, LaRusso purrs. “And who’s that gonna be?”

“I’m not playing this game.”

More splashing, and Robby knows LaRusso’s being wrestled out of the pond. But then there’s cursing, and louder splashing, and then Johnny’s booming voice in the middle of it all.

“Jesus Christ! I could have died! What’s wrong with you?”

LaRusso cackles.

“What was that? What the fuck just touched me? Was that a fish? Do you have fish in your pond?”

“Yeah. That’s what ponds are for.”

“You’re a lunatic, LaRusso.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

Silence, and splashing. Robby’s going to go insane.

“Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“You know”, LaRusso says cockily. “I’m not gonna come unless you say it.”

That sounds twenty kinds of wrong. Robby bites his lip. His dad is going to get him out of there eventually. It’s wrong to intervene when they actually, for once, might be getting somewhere. 

But that doesn’t mean this is any less uncomfortable to listen to.

“And if I do,” Johnny says, “are you coming out of the pond?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Daniel. Get a fucking move on.”

“Not like that. Say it like you’re not pissed off.”

“I can’t believe you,” Johnny groans. “It’s like they made you in a lab specifically to get on my nerves.”

The water is a gentle background noise now, and Robby almost doesn’t catch the next few words.

“Please, Daniel.” Johnny sounds half amused, half heartbroken, and of all the tones of voice that Robby has heard from the two of them tonight, this might be the worst. “Please. Okay?“

“‘kay.”

But Robby can hear they’re not moving. What the fuck are they doing out there? Finally, he can hear splashing again.

“Okay, there we go.”

LaRusso curses under his breath. “Why’s it so cold out here?”

“Cause you’re soaking wet, genius. Can you walk?”

“Can I walk? I could kick your ass right now if I wanted to, and you’re askin’ me if–”

A muffled thud. Robby assumes that Mr LaRusso has fallen to the ground.

“Well, that’s a no,” Johnny mutters. “Okay. I got you. Up you get. Nope, we’re going left. There’s the house. Good job.”

He can hear them slowly padding up the deck towards the house.

“Careful,” Johnny sighs. “Stairs.”

And LaRusso, very softly, replies, “I want you.”

Robby’s entire body goes cold. Oh God. Oh God. Oh no. Such a small, gentle sentence in the middle of this train wreck of an evening.

Now? he wants to scream. Really? Now?

“Sure you do.” Johnny sounds entirely unimpressed. “Right foot. There you go.”

“I want you”, LaRusso says again. He sounds a little more awake this time. More insistent. “I want you; I know it’s not just me.”

“You have to speak quietly. We don’t want to wake Robby up, because he has school tomorrow. Okay?”

“I like you,” LaRusso whispers, and somehow that’s worse.

“No, Daniel, you don’t.” Johnny’s voice is unrecognizably soft. “You’re completely shitfaced. Get it together.”

There’s a pause, then a retching noise. Then something splatters all over the wooden deck. Someone’s throwing up. 

Robby can hazard a guess who it might be.

Johnny sighs quietly.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. That’s what you think of me when you’re sober. Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Johnny somehow gets LaRusso down the corridor into the bathroom without being hit on again. He closes the door behind them – but then again, the door is mostly paper. Robby is still caught up on the image of LaRusso out on the deck; drunk, wet, about to be sick, telling Johnny that he wants him. Three times. Three.

“Okay”, Johnny whispers. “Take off your pants and put them… I don’t know. In the bathtub or something. Put on the sweatpants over there.”

“Why?”

“Cause you puked all over yourself, that’s why! No, wait– ” At least five plastic bottles rumble to the floor, and Johnny curses quietly. “Jesus! You can’t even stand up. Just hold onto my arm, alright? Fuck, how much have you had to drink?”

LaRusso laughs. “Idunno.”

Robby squeezes his eyes shut as forcefully as he can. It can’t lock out the sound of wet clothes landing on the bathroom floor. Robby tries very hard not to think about how much help LaRusso must have needed with taking his pants off, considering he can barely stand up and all.

“Hey,” LaRusso says, voice warm and bright. “Hey. Johnny.”

“What?”

“I like your shirt.”

“Thank you.”

Robby doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. LaRusso sounds like he’s on his honeymoon, Johnny sounds like he’s taking care of an especially stupid cat. 

“You can take it off if you want”, LaRusso teases. 

Robby is begging all available gods to make this conversation pass as fast as possible. Johnny, clearly having similar feelings, is taking such a deep breath next door that it sounds like it might honestly never end. 

“Just… dry yourself off and get your sweatpants, okay?”

Footsteps. Towels rustling.

“Here,” Johnny says. “That’s better. Now put your clothes on.”

“You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me”, LaRusso murmurs, but it sounds like I love you. Everything that’s coming out of his mouth tonight sounds like I love you.

Johnny laughs gently, and it almost physically hurts Robby. Right under his ribcage, at the end of windpipe. Right where his lungs split in two. 

“Man, if I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, then nothing’s ever happened to you.”

Robby can hear Johnny throwing the towel down and then leading LaRusso to the bedroom. Not a word from either of them. A duvet rustles. This is so stupid, and so heartbreaking, and Robby wishes he could just go over there right now and tell them to get their shit together.

Silence. Then LaRusso says, so quiet it’s almost inaudible. “Your eyes are way too blue, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Good to know. I’ll take ‘em back to the store first thing in the morning. Good night.”

“No, wait.”

“What? You need water?”

“Okay”, LaRusso whispers.

“What do you mean, okay? You asked me to wait, what do you want?”

Mercifully, LaRusso doesn’t answer the question.

“I’m getting you some water.”

The tap runs for a bit. A glass lands on what is presumably a nightstand, and then there’s some plastic clattering. 

“I got you a bucket. In case you have to throw up again.”

“You’re drunk, too.”

“Not as bad as you.”

“You can’t drive.”

Johnny only had one beer tonight, and that was hours ago. He could definitely drive home if he wanted to. But Robby knows that he won't.

“I know," Johnny says. "I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What’s wrong with my bed?”

Robby seriously, fervently, wants to die.

Johnny sighs. “Daniel. You’re so fucking out of it, you don’t even know who you’re hitting on right now. I could be a bonsai tree for all you know.”

“You can just say no”, LaRusso slurs. “You don’t have to be mean.”

Silence, then he can hear his dad getting to his feet. “Wake me up if you need anything.” 

A door slides shut.

“Good night, Daniel.”

Chapter Text

Mr LaRusso looks like absolute shit the next morning. 

He’s hanging over his coffee cup looking like a really sad animal that’s been at the shelter for ten years.

“Are you okay?”, Robby says carefully as he sits down opposite him.

“Fantastic”, LaRusso croaks.

Robby spent half the night lying awake, so he’s not doing too hot himself, and by the fact that the shower’s been running for half an hour, he guesses his Dad is in the same boat. Someone should probably check if he’s trying to drown himself. As if on cue, the shower falls silent. 

After a bit of shuffling, the washing machine quietly hums to life and the bathroom door slides open.

“Robby, are you making coffee?”, Dad whisper-yells down the corridor. “Save some for me, okay?”

Uh-oh.

Johnny walks around the corner, towel around his waist, and LaRusso looks up, too tired to even react to his half-naked ex standing in his kitchen. “Hey Johnny.”

Johnny instinctively pulls the towel tighter. On the bright side, he looks just as clueless as Robby when it comes to how to deal with this insane night.

“Hey”, he says with studied casualness. “You’re awake. What’s up?”

“I think I need a ride to the graveyard, that’s what’s up.” LaRusso laughs meekly and takes another sip of coffee. "My head is killing me."

Johnny promptly walks over and steals his cup. 

“Well, your couch is garbage, so you’re not the only one who slept like shit. Stop hogging the coffee.” He drinks, then gives LaRusso a disgustingly platonic nudge in the shoulder. “So. You stand by what you said last night, LaRusso?”

What the actual fuck is wrong with his father? Why would he do this now? This is not a group setting type of conversation! 

Barely a moment later, it occurs to Robby what Johnny is actually trying to do. He's taking the burden of 'obviously it wasn't serious' off of LaRusso. In case he's ashamed and wants to backpedal, Johnny has already given him an out.

LaRusso’s eyes narrow playfully. “You mean when I offered to pay to have that atrocious logo painted over? Yes. I meant that."

Johnny looks confused. “What?”

“I mean, just if you want!” LaRusso says mildly, lifting his hands. “I know I can be a bit much sometimes. But if you’re okay with it, I can –”

“No, I meant when-”

He looks over at Robby, as if asking for help. And Robby can’t fucking help, because he was supposed to have been asleep the whole time. He’s supposed to have no idea what Johnny’s even talking about.

“Mr LaRusso,” he says cautiously. “I’m not gonna do all the hospital tests, but what’s the last thing you remember from yesterday? You were pretty out of it. And you had a lot to drink. Like… a lot.”

“Johnny traumatized a bunch of freshmen with his burger comment. He told me about Mr Miyagi at... CVS, and, uh... I don't really remember much else.” He looks back up at Johnny, way too happy for somebody who just told his ex he wants him back and was brutally turned down, and Robby can immediately tell he’s telling the truth. That man does not remember a goddamn thing. Full-on blackout. “Why, what’d I say? Nothing bad, right?”

Johnny grins like nothing’s wrong at all. “Apparently I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“I said that?”

“Right after I stopped you from drowning in your stupid fish pond.”

“Well. How does the saying go?” LaRusso teases. “Drunks and fools always tell the truth?”

Johnny smirks back, but he slams the coffee mug onto the table a little too hard. “Bullshit.” 

And with that, he vanishes back in the bathroom.

*

Robby’s still in the living room packing up his school supplies when Johnny walks back in, fully dressed and ready to leave. 

“See you, kid.”

“Bye, Dad.”

LaRusso, who’s doing the dishes in slow-motion, hastily towels his hands off and opens the fridge. “Hey, Johnny, wait up.” He comes over with a big blue lunchbox, smiling wide. “I packed leftovers. Thanks so much for taking over last night. I’m not used to the old grill, I always had a gas grill at the house, and… Well. Anyways. The food was fantastic.”

“Thanks.”

Johnny gets this little smile on his face, like someone’s switched a light on inside of him, and honestly, yeah, Robby sees it now. Just like Ali said. Cloud nine for a whole week. They’ve finally managed to make Johnny accept a compliment without deflecting.

“I had a really good time,” LaRusso tries.

Johnny scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, uh. Me too.”

“I promise not to fall in the pond again during the next barbecue.”

Robby looks back and forth between them. The only way that LaRusso could make it more obvious that he’s flirting is if he said it out loud. And Johnny looks really taken aback. Like he didn't expect that LaRusso wanting him back might extend into sobriety. Like he hasn't even considered it.

“Good,” Johnny says slowly. “Maybe I’ll do that wheel technique with you sometime. When you’re actually sober enough to not kill us both.”

LaRusso beams at him. “Yeah?”

“Maybe.”

“I’d like that.”

“I should… um.” Johnny looks over at Robby, like it’s only just occurred to him that they’re not alone. “I should go.”

Are you kidding me?

“I'm gonna call off work today," LaRusso says, yawning. "Could you take Robby to school? I don’t think I should get behind the wheel right now."

"Yeah, sure. No problem.“

"Thank you. Bye, Johnny.”

“Bye, Daniel.”

The instant regret passes over Johnny’s face like a shiver. He practically jumps down the stairs towards the car. Yup. Real mature.

Mr LaRusso frowns at the sudden departure, clearly confused they're on a first-name basis now. Robby sighs, then says goodbye to Mr LaRusso and follows his Dad down the steps. He waits until the car doors are closed until he turns towards the driver’s seat. 

“Daniel?”

“Shut up,” Johnny murmurs. But for the whole drive to West Valley High, he’s trying not to smile.

*

Robby arrives at school a bit late, which means everybody’s already in class. He texts the group chat on his way to Spanish.

ROBBY: holy shit gigantic update guys

ROBBY: mr larusso came on to my dad last night. like hardcore.

MIGUEL: wait WHAT

MIGUEL: they hooked up???

ROBBY: no, my dad was all like ‘you’re way too drunk’

ROBBY: and he helped him to bed

SAM: okay that's super sweet. and super sad.

ROBBY: well, larusso blacked out and doesn’t remember. way too much amnesia for one household tbh. but now my dad is so much more… idk? flirty? smiley? it’s obnoxious and also really cute. honestly i think we’re most of the way there!

SAM: okay but... did my dad drop the L bomb?

ROBBY: no but he said "i like you"!!! and my dad was like "no you don't, you're just drunk".

MIGUEL: losing my entire mind

SAM: ouch. poor dad, oh my god...

ROBBY: but then this morning i think my dad got it. mr larusso gave him leftovers and said thanks for cooking and he was blushing SO HARD.

MIGUEL: progress!!!

DEMETRI: my sincere condolences for having to listen to your dad try to bang your other dad

ROBBY: THANK YOU. rip me

DEMETRI: now shut up, I’m trying to do some physics here.

First period flies by.

Afterwards, he finds out his chemistry teacher is no longer sick, which means Robby has to actually come to class now during second period instead of going to study hall.

Mrs Turner doesn’t ask Robby to come to the front and introduce himself, so that immediately earns her brownie points. Instead, she approaches his desk and hands him a chemistry textbook.

“You must be Robby, then. Welcome to West Valley High. Since we already started without you a few weeks ago, Eli volunteered to help you catch up.”

“Cool,” Robby says. “Thank you.”

But when he turns around to see his lab partner, there’s none other than Hawk walking towards him. Shit. Figures that Hawk isn’t his government name.

Robby tenses up. There’s nobody else in this class that he knows. No Demetri. No Miguel. No Sam. No Cobra Kais, either, but that seems like poor consolation.

It doesn’t matter, he says to himself. You’re fucking lab partners. Who cares? He definitely volunteered so he could piss you off, but that doesn’t mean you have to let him piss you off. Today is such a good day. Things are going great. Just keep calm.

Hawk sits down and nods at Robby before sliding a folder of photocopied notes over to him. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said last week.”

“Great,” Robby says warily. “One Nobel Peace Prize coming right up.”

“I was just surprised when Principal Lopez said that thing about husbands, and I didn’t get that you were kidding.”

“Kay. Sure. So where are we supposed to be in this project?”

Hawk taps the folder. “Page seven.”

Robby grabs the folder and turns to page seven. 

There’s a crude drawing in the middle of the page. It looks like it took all of twenty seconds to draw, but it’s very obvious what’s supposed to be happening. Robby slams the folder shut again. His face runs hot.

“Although I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t kidding”, Hawk says, innocently copying instructions from the blackboard without a second look to Robby. “Kreese says that LaRusso’s always had a taste for Cobra Kai dick.”

“What the actual fuck is that supposed to mean?”, Robby hisses, fingers tightening around his pencil until it hurts. He can’t pick a fight now without telling the teacher why. And that means she’ll see the drawing of LaRusso and his dad. And everyone else will, too. Slowly, very gently, he rips the caricature out of the folder and balls it up in his pocket.

“Why don’t you ask him who coached him for his second All-Valley? Kreese wasn’t the only Cobra Kai sensei, you know.”

Robby’s heart damn near stops.

He can’t mean the guy LaRusso talked about. There’s no possible way Hawk knows about this. But Kreese might. Shit. If that asshole who messed with Mr LaRusso was also a Cobra Kai sensei, then Kreese knows for sure.

Robby opens and closes his hands and tries to flood his mind with the cool watery feeling of kata. Hawk doesn’t know what he’s saying right now. He’s being manipulated. Kreese wouldn’t tell him a story where LaRusso is obviously a victim and expect Hawk to still be on his side. He probably made it sound consensual. Like LaRusso was into it at the time.

He doesn’t know. Keep it together.

Hawk sees Robby’s jaw working and leans in with a shit-eating grin.

“So, does your Dad know he’s getting sloppy seconds? Although I heard your Mom had to go to rehab for sucking too much dick. Maybe your Dad’s just really into sluts, huh?”

Hawk is on the ground before Robby even registers what’s happening. A backpack goes flying, and then a textbook, and then a chair, and it’s all happening completely without Robby’s input, like somebody’s cut off his hands from the rest of his body.

And then he’s being held back by smaller hands. The chemistry teacher can’t be more than five feet tall, but she’s dragging Robby away from Hawk, away from his table, and she’s saying something to him, stern and outraged, but Robby can barely hear her.

Hawk is getting back to his feet and he’s looking so unbearably content, like he’s won something, like he didn’t just let Kreese say the worst possible thing through him without even knowing.

“Hey, Eli,” Robby spits out. “You ever talk about them that way again, I’ll set your fucking life on fire!”

*

The first minute after Robby gets into the car, his dad says nothing at all.

Then he turns around and says “You know, this is not the second chance this school has given you.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Not even the third one.”

“I know.”

“You know they’re trying to get you expelled, right? This is exactly what Kreese wants. For the school to kick you out like they kicked Tory out so he can swoop in and be the hero!”

He hadn’t thought about that. But now that his Dad’s put it like that, it’s clear as day why Kreese told Hawk all that stuff about Mr LaRusso. And the worst thing is - if Robby didn't know the real story, he would have flipped out at the mention of his mom, but not like this. Not physically. If Robby didn't know, he would have been confused at the mention of LaRusso and his sensei, but he wouldn't have gotten this overprotective.

Which means Kreese now knows that Robby knows. Shit.

He's such an idiot.

“And in class?” Johnny snaps. “You’re not even cleared for sports yet.” 

“I didn’t do sports. I just kinda… threw a chair at him.”

“What the hell am I gonna tell your doctor?”

“That I’m a lost cause?” Robby says, staring straight ahead at the glove compartment. The balled-up caricature is burning a hole into his pocket.

“Can you take this seriously?”

“I am taking it seriously.”

“You know, when I said I’m glad you’re getting along with Miguel, I didn’t mean pick another archenemy. What happened with Hawk?”

“Forget it.”

“Robby, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. What happened?”

Robby’s jaw hurts from how firmly he’s pressing his teeth together. “I said forget it!”, he snaps.

There’s silence for another minute and Robby can tell his Dad is really pulling himself together to not yell at him right now. Instead, he starts the car and pulls onto the road.

“I called LaRusso,” he finally says, “and we agreed that you’re grounded until Tuesday unless you can tell us a legitimate reason why you shouldn’t be grounded. He's at the store now, but you’re turning in your phone once he gets home.”

A vague recollection surfaces, of Sam’s mom holding her phone hostage. For once, he’s not at all happy to be measured by LaRusso family standards. “That was his idea.”

“Yup, and if that’s what it takes, I’m going along with it.”

Robby grinds his teeth.

“So,” Johnny says. “Do you have a legitimate reason? Or are you just throwing around chairs to piss me off?”

Hawk’s stupid “your mom’s a hoe” comment alone would not have ticked Robby off to this extreme extent. Johnny and LaRusso know him well enough to realize that. Robby can’t tell them half the truth and expect them to believe it. They’ll keep pushing until it all comes out.

Robby imagines sitting them both down at the kitchen table and telling them what Hawk said about Mr LaRusso and his creepy sensei. He thinks about LaRusso still hurting over things that only almost happened thirty years ago. Johnny carrying him inside the night of the barbecue, saying ‘Man, if I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, then nothing’s ever happened to you’. That sweet, quiet voice. 

He doesn’t even know what would be worse, watching his father find out – do you need water, I got you, hold onto my arm – or watching LaRusso watch his father find out – I want you, I want you, I like you.

Robby imagines their faces falling apart. He bites his lip.

He can’t. There’s no fucking way he’s going to do that to either of them. This is his mess to deal with.

“Can I at least tell my friends why I’m not going to be on my phone?”

Johnny shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”

The Bye Bye Snake Groupchat on his phone is already blowing up when he opens it.

SAM: you got suspended for three days? 

SAM: what happened? 

MIGUEL: was it hawk again? did he say something to you?

ROBBY: trust me it’s better i don’t tell you

MIGUEL: why

ROBBY: cause if i do, you’ll also get suspended

SAM: was it about my dad?

SAM: tell me what it was. i’m too smart to get caught

ROBBY: just back off

ROBBY: also FYI I’m grounded and i have to turn in my phone later

DEMETRI: great job

DEMETRI: you know i can’t come to training today because i need to finish up the coding, right? 

DEMETRI: when are we going to discuss the timeline on the kreese plan?

Robby grinds his teeth.

ROBBY: you know what? fuck your timeline.

He doesn’t say a word for the whole rest of the drive.

At Miyagi-Do, his Dad lets him out of the car.

“You know, I thought we were past this,” Johnny shouts after him when he slams the door. “Acting like an asshole and throwing your future in the toilet out of spite.”

“I’m not!”

“Then what the fuck is this about? Why is this the second call in two weeks that we’ve gotten from the school?”

Robby’s so mad he could cry.

“You know what?” he says, approaching the car again. “I think I liked it better when I only had to see you once a year.”

Johnny’s jaw tightens, and for a moment Robby thinks he’s going to speed off and disappear for a year, but then he nods. “Tough shit. Tomorrow’s Friday and that means you’re gonna see me at the hospital. And dinner’s at eight. And my dojo’s here, and my son lives here. So… yeah. I’m not going anywhere, and if you don’t like that… Grow up.”

And he pulls out of the front yard and drives away.

Robby throws his school bag to the side and pulls up the Cobra Kai website on his phone.

With Kreese knowing what he knows, there's no way Robby can wait any longer. This is too delicate to risk it bleeding through onto everything else. If he's already told Hawk, this bomb could go off any time; so someone needs to throw themselves on top of it. It's now or never.

Kreese’s number is the only one listed under contact information. He picks up on the first ring.

“Sensei Kreese at Cobra Kai.”

“This is Robby Keene”, he says. “Meet me at Miyagi-Do tomorrow at 8:30. I have questions.”

And he hangs up the phone. His hands are still trembling. With rage or despair, he can’t quite say.

Chapter Text

The call comes at 8:02, just like they agreed a week ago, because according to Miguel, eight o’clock sharp would make it look ‘staged’.

LaRusso takes out Robby’s phone, unlocks it and slides it across the table. “Keep it short. We’re eating.”

He was so relieved that Robby’s cleared for sports again that it seems like he’s forgotten Robby’s technically grounded. Dad hasn’t forgotten, but he’s remained mercifully quiet on the way here, and the food seems to have put him in a mood that almost smells like reconciliation.

Robby reluctantly swallows the piece of steak and answers the phone. “Miguel?”

“Hey. Hope the food’s terrible, because you need to leave now.”

Robby tries very hard not to roll his eyes as he gets up from the table and rattles off the script they practiced. “Wait, what? Slow down.”

“‘Tis I. Your alibi. This is a scheduled call to remind you to get the fuck out of that restaurant, so your dads can have a Hot Date in a Romantic Environment .”

Dude’s actually doing a robot voice for those last few words. Is he aware it could jeopardize the entire mission if he makes Robby laugh? He puts his entire annoyance in the sigh that’s supposed to come now. Like he doesn’t really want to leave (and he doesn’t, the food’s fantastic and he’s barely had two bites of it) but he has to.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll help you. See you in twenty.”

Both adults are looking at him with concern when he turns around.

“Miguel’s having an emergency.”

Dad looks even more worried. Shit. They really didn’t think this excuse through. Of course they’d want to come. Bad plan. Under no circumstances can they leave the restaurant. 

Robby makes a show of rolling his eyes. “Not like that. Not an adult emergency, a cool person emergency. Can I get someone’s car keys, please?”

“Hell no!” Johnny protests. “First of all, you’re still grounded, and second of all, you’re not going anywhere until you– Hey!”

LaRusso is already holding out his keys, but holds on to the keychain as Robby grabs it and raises his eyebrows. “This better not have anything to do with Sam.”

“Oh my God! It’s homework, okay? Miguel has an essay due tonight and he forgot, so now he’s fucked unless I help him. Just… eat your steak! Nobody’s pregnant. Jesus.” 

LaRusso releases the keys and holds out his other hand for Robby’s phone. He cradles it to his chest almost instinctively.

“Can I bring my phone? Please.”

“Only if you’re studying at Miyagi-Do.”

“That was the plan anyway”, Robby says, relieved. “What code did you put in? In case I need to call you.”

“1014. Sam’s birthday.”

Robby grabs his denim jacket and storms to the car before they can protest any further. In the car, he grabs his old phone out of his pocket and tries one more code. 1014. Nothing. Well, it was worth a try.

He looks up through the restaurant windows. Johnny's fork is reaching out for a potato from Mr LaRusso's plate, and LaRusso is pulling his plate back with a scandalized expression and shaking his head. They both grin at each other. Johnny reaches for LaRusso's wine glass instead, takes a sip and then shrugs appreciatively.

The glass slowly slides back across the table. Their fingers don't meet at the stem of the wine glass when LaRusso takes it back, but considering Johnny's restrained blush, they might as well have.

The sight is oddly motivating. Yeah. This is why Robby is doing this. This is what he's protecting. Whatever happens with Kreese, it's worth it.

Robby connects his new phone to the car speakers, turns the ignition on and calls Miguel back.

“In the car now. You can talk.”

“Nice," Miguel says on the other end.

“Handsome Rob taking over," Sam interrupts. “Left Ear is opening the chips. Status update, please.”

Robby laughs. Look who wants a piece of the secret agent action!

“My dad has a button-down on and your dad ordered a bottle of wine, so I think we’re on a good path. They seemed relaxed. Well. Before I told them Miguel was having an emergency and your dad had to visibly restrain himself from asking me if you were pregnant.”

Sam laughs. “Wow. Thanks for that. What kind of wine did he order?”

“Uh. Red.”

“Obviously. It’s a steakhouse. What kind of red wine? If he’s pissed, he orders Tempranillo, if he’s chill and happy he gets Merlot.”

“Something with an M, but it wasn’t Merlot.”

“Malbec?”

“That was it.”

Sam gasps. “That’s date wine!”

Miguel whoops in the background. “Did I tell you or did I tell you?”

“And I have more good news," Robby says, suddenly not sure if they’ll even care. He can hear the expectant breathing on the other side, but that’s because they think it’s about their mission. He tells them anyways.

“Before dinner today, at my appointment… they cleared me for karate!”

“Hell yeah!” Miguel shouts.

“Robby, that’s great!”

“Yeah, yeah," Robby says, feeling himself flush with unexpected joy. “You’re just happy you have an easy target. I’ve probably forgotten everything.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure," Sam says cryptically. “My dad has his methods to really make the moves sink in, you know.”

Robby knows what she’s talking about. He remembers how the chores he’s been doing around the house correspond to defensive moves. That doesn’t mean he’s any more confident about actually using them.

“Cool. Can’t wait.” Robby takes a deep breath. He’s fifteen minutes away from Miyagi-Do, and he can’t be late. If Kreese is early, he might start poking around in the dojo and that can't happen. “I’m gonna hang up now, okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, you know what fine stands for—“

“I said I’m fine!” Robby snaps.

He hears rustling, and apparently Miguel has stolen the phone back because the sound of his chewing fills the entire car. “Let’s do this, Stella. Miyagi-Fang for life.”

Robby hangs up on him.

//

When he pulls into the driveway at Miyagi-Do, Kreese is already there. He stands next to one of the vintage cars, curiously drawing his finger along the sleek chrome of the fender.

Robby has barely stepped out of the car when Kreese crowds into his space, all teeth and glee, and shakes his hand. “Robby Keene. I was wondering when we’d meet.”

Robby shrugs. “Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.”

Kreese laughs. “Can’t blame you. Your dad probably told you I eat puppies and kittens for breakfast. We didn’t part on good terms, unfortunately. I wish I’d handled it better, but I guess with some people, you just bring out the worst in each other, right?”

Robby nods slowly and locks the car. “My dad and I are like that sometimes.”

His heart’s beating so fast, he can’t get any of his questions out. Let alone intelligent questions. Kreese seems to catch onto that.

“So… what’s going on with you, Robby?” he says, and somehow manages to make it sound casual. 

Robby doesn’t really remember what he planned to say at this stage, but it definitely wasn’t “My doctor said I can do karate again.”

But that’s what comes out of his mouth, and Kreese reacts with a polite nod.

No evil sparkle in his eye, or anything. He just nods at Robby. Like his doctors nod when he tells them the new things he remembered.

“Ah. I was sorry to hear about your injuries. It’s good to hear you’re doing better. Maybe you can come by my dojo sometime.” 

Robby bites his lip. He didn’t expect this. His dad told him Kreese wanted to recruit him in the hospital, but that didn’t sound like a serious offer. More like a way to get a rise out of his dad. 

He thinks of the conversation that happened on the deck of this very house. Pizza. LaRusso calling Kreese an abuser. His dad fidgeting and defending him. It seems like it happened a million years ago. Robby barely remembers what kind of pizza he had.

It’s still so warm for October, but his hands are cold. He’s in way over his head. This was such a bad idea.

“Hey, no pressure.” Kreese laughs. “No need to get a snake tattoo. Just to see if you like it. The logo looks scary, but I promise we don’t bite.”

“Okay," Robby says and licks his lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

“So," Kreese says, effortlessly circling back to the beginning of the conversation. “You said you had questions for me.”

“What kind of… differences did you and my dad have?” At least Robby gets the question out, but he absolutely hates how small his voice sounds. “I mean, they must have been pretty big if you ended up kicking him out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I kicked him out. It came down to lots of small things. Teaching style. Organization. And at the end of the day, I’m the one who established the dojo. It’s hard for a former teacher and student to work eye-to-eye."

That is such a non-answer that Robby almost loses his thread entirely.

“You mean because you tried to kill him?”

And that question finally, blessedly, grounds him. Picturing his dad behind him, eighteen and terrified and Robby the only thing in between them, makes him grow enough backbone to stare back at Kreese without shaking.

Kreese’s smile finally slips a little. “I never tried to kill your father.”

“You only wanted to hurt him.”

“No, I…”

“Humiliate him, then.”

Kreese licks his lips, clearly searching for an answer that’ll end this line of questioning. Robby doesn’t give him the time. He strikes first.

“I’ve never choked anybody," Robby says. “I don’t know why someone would do that if not for pain or humiliation. Explain it to me. I don’t get it.”

“Robby, when you’re at war–”

“You weren’t at war," Robby cuts him off. “You were in a parking lot after a kids’ karate tournament. You told my dad he was a failure, but the truth is you felt like a failure, didn’t you? And if having a teenager in a headlock could make you feel powerful again for five fucking minutes, you were going to do it. Am I right?”

“Robby, you and I are a lot alike. You have a lot of anger…”

Robby breezes right past him.

“Do you feel sorry at all? Did you ever look back and feel ashamed of yourself?”

This wasn’t exactly how the question was worded in his head, but that’s what it’s all about, right? The question at the center of all this. Robby’s ashamed of shit he doesn’t even remember. How could this guy not be ashamed of himself?

How is this not the easiest question he’s ever been asked in his life?

Kreese laughs quietly, like Robby’s some four year old refusing to put his shoes on before kindergarten. It’s infuriating. But he needs to keep a clear head now. So he clenches his fist, waits for the counterattack. Block. Block. Block.

No matter what Kreese throws at him, verbal or physical.

“Maybe it’s better you don’t come by the dojo," Kreese finally says, his grin firmly back in place. “You’re not quite the boy I thought you were. I don’t know where all these questions are coming from, but this place has clearly turned you into some sort of pansy who believes people earn trophies through coddling and compliments. Too bad.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about this place," Robby says coolly. “And I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for your students. Do they know what happens if they don’t win?”

Kreese actually laughs out loud at the question. He looks so at peace with himself Robby almost throws up. “My students know my methods, and they clearly approve. I’m not locking anybody up, am I?”

“You don’t have to. I bet you showed them the bare minimum of kindness just long enough to earn their loyalty forever. Waived membership fees. Made house calls. Told people their stepdads are assholes. Told people they’re the future of this dojo, and together, you’ll show them all. Am I right?” 

The sundown quiet in the trees around them is louder than a concert. Robby’s heart is both beating in his throat and dropping out of his asshole, which shouldn’t be physically possible, but it’s happening regardless. It’s two-two and Robby needs to bring it the fuck home. All the way. Roundhouse. No pressure.

“Why not?” Kreese says. 

“Because it’s fucked up! Your students right now – do you seriously think they’ll look back in thirty years and be happy they met you? Oh man, remember Kreese? What a guy! He treated me like he really cared about me, and then he told me I’d never be enough and almost killed me. What part do you think my dad remembers?” 

Kreese steps closer, eyes wild now. 

“Both," Robby spits. “And that’s what’s so fucked up about it, caring about someone who treats you like shit. You always remember both parts.”

They’re so close now that Robby can smell Kreese’s breath, but he doesn’t yield. 

“I choked your dad because he deserved it," Kreese bites back, sharp and loud. “And if he’s still not over it after all these years, it’s because he knows he deserved it. Simple as that. You think I give a shit where my under-eighteens end up after their last season, you self-righteous little freak? You really think I’ll sit down in three years to write Hawk’s funeral speech? Visit Tory at the strip club? Get a grip!”

The door behind them flies open.

Tory storms out, heavy steps and fired up eyes. She looks like she’s about to bodycheck her shoulder into Kreese’s, and for a moment Robby thinks she really might, but then she just walks past without a word. 

The rest of Cobra Kai is hot on her heels. The curly-haired one from the cafeteria. Some kid who looks barely fourteen. A few people Robby’s never seen before. Hawk comes out dead last, holding a half-empty beer he probably stole from the dojo fridge. He walks past his sensei, then doubles back and empties the can over Kreese’s jacket.

Point, Keene. Fucking home run.

At the other side of the parking lot, too many Cobra Kais are piling into the backseat of Tory’s cheap car. The motor won’t start, but it doesn’t matter.

Kreese is still looking at Robby – and then at Miguel and Sam, who step out of the garden and take their position on Robby’s right and left side. 

Fighting stance.

Kreese bares his teeth at Robby. “You. You little–”

“Like I said," Robby sneers. “Lots of things you don’t know about this place. How thin the walls are, for example. You really have to watch what you say.”

The rest of the Miyagi-Dos and Eagle Fangs have formed a wall in the now-open door, but they part briefly to let one last person through. Kreese blinks.

“Robinson?  What are you doing here?”

Aisha casually strolls over to them, hands in her pockets like it’s all just reality TV to her. 

“Keeping them quiet long enough for you to shoot yourself in the balls in front of everybody,” she says. “Apparently I’m neutral now! Crazy what a new school does to you.”

They are honestly so lucky she could make it on such short notice. Things were really last minute after Robby moved the timeline up, and there's no way they could have gotten the Cobra Kais over here without her. 

“You think you’re smart or something?” Kreese hisses at Robby.

“Oh, I am," Robby shoots back. “I’ve got the killer instinct, remember?”

“You don’t know what you have, little boy. You’ve forgotten everything. You’re picking fights you can’t win, and for who? Your daddy who doesn’t love you and his little boytoy? If I told you all the shit they pulled in the last year…”

“Who cares? Last year is last year and now is now. Yesterday you had students and today they hate you. Go figure.”

Kreese grabs out towards Robby‘s throat before Sam or Miguel even have a chance to intervene. The whole dojo freezes around them.

Robby backsteps and brings his right hand up, circling outward, both ulna and radius slamming into Kreese’s wrist at the exact same time. Wax on. 

The human wrist has eight bones. Robby swears he hears every single one of them sing. He stares at his own fist, and something in his lungs sighs, There you are. There we go. About fucking time.

The counterattack lands right on Kreese’s sternum, and he recoils like he’s been burned.

“Uh-oh," Aisha smirks. “We’ve got a flincher.”

“Easy," Sam says. “Not yet.”

The implied threat keeps Kreese still long enough for Robby to get his breath back. Turns out, with Kreese no longer untouchable, he can finally remember his lines.

“Two stories we can tell here. First version is that you tried to kill me for poaching students for my dad’s dojo, and Sam knocked you out to defend me.”

Miguel nods. “We all saw it. I’ll go on the stand.”

“Same," Sam says casually, looking at her fingernails. “I get all As and I can cry on command. I’m gonna be the jury’s favorite defendant ever.”

“And you’ve done it before," Robby adds innocently. “To my dad. I mean, Mr LaRusso saw you almost kill him. And all of my dad’s friends saw, too. I bet they’d go on the stand, too, if we asked. What reason would they have to lie? Especially Bobby. He’s a priest now, did you know that? With that history, it's not looking too good for you.”

Hawk laughs out loud from the other side of the parking lot. “Oh, they got you good!”

Kreese opens his mouth, but Miguel cuts him off. “Not to mention the fruit of the poisonous tree doctrine means even if you were stupid enough to come here with a recording device, it’s gonna be more useful shoving it up your ass than submitting it to court.”

“Or," Sam says cheerfully, “We’re telling the second version. We poached your students, so you came to confront us. You were drunk, and you cursed us all out before taking off. We felt really sorry for you, but hey. You’re just some old guy who decided he’s better off moving to the countryside. That’s nothing worth bothering the cops with, right?”

A baseball cap with an embroidered Cobra Kai logo lands at Kreese’s feet.

“It has GPS," Demetri calls out of the dojo, pointing at his open laptop. “And a camera with twelve hours of battery life. You ditch the hat before the battery runs out, version one goes live. You break any of my equipment, version one goes live. And you will post a video of yourself within the next hour saying you’re closing Cobra Kai and retiring from karate for ‘personal reasons’. If you don’t… You get the picture. Version one. They explained it pretty exhaustively.”

He puts the laptop down and steps out into the open doorway.

“Oh yeah, and remember when you punched me in the face when I tried to join your dojo? Yeah. My mom remembers, too. Made me take pictures. In case I ever wanted to press charges, I have the medical records to prove it.”

“And he called me," Hawk shouts. Demetri's face lights up as Hawk jogs over and takes his place next to him. “I was too caught up in your bullshit, but Demetri called me. I saw video proof, man. I’ll go on the… the thing!”

“The stand," Demetri supplies.

“Exactly!”

The rest of the Cobra Kais are still squeezed in the back of Tory’s car, but none of them look up at Kreese when he whirls around in their direction. Finally, he locks eyes with Tory, who has given up on the ignition and stands in her open car door, chewing on her lip.

“Nichols. Come on. You wouldn’t lie for her. You hate the LaRusso girl.”

Tory slams the car door shut and starts walking over. “I do," she says slowly. “Kissed my boyfriend. Accused me of stealing. Such a spoiled bitch. I wouldn’t lie for her in a million years.”

She stops right in front of Kreese, and he starts nodding softly, searchingly, as if waiting for her to join. Finally, she smiles. 

"Thing is, by the time this goes to trial, I'm probably gonna be super busy at the strip club. So... I wouldn't count on me as a witness."

"Nichols-"

He’s not fast enough to block her.

Chapter Text

Thirty minutes after The Punch To End All Punches, Robby gets a call from Mr LaRusso. 

“Where are you? Are you with Miguel?”

“Yeah," Robby says casually. “We’re done with homework, so we went to party down at the beach. Aisha’s here for the weekend. Why, what’s up?”

Sam, who’s caught on to the fact that The Call is happening, shushes everybody and Robby puts LaRusso on speaker.

“I just got a call from Amanda in the middle of dessert–" He sounds twice as distraught as Robby expected. He doesn't even remind Robby that he's technically still grounded and should be nowhere near the beach. “Kreese posted a video that he’s quitting Cobra Kai. The rest of the homepage is gone. Completely gone. He’s up to something.”

“He came by the dojo, actually," Robby says. “While Miguel and I were doing the essay.”

“He did what?”  

“I don’t know what was going on with him. He smelled like beer…” 

Technically true, after Hawk threw it on him…

“...said he was done with Cobra Kai for good...” 

Not even a little bit true. It’s really concerning how fantastic of a liar Robby can be if he wants to.

”Then he told us we’re all losers who would never amount to anything and we were idiots for not appreciating that he wanted to turn us into winners, and just kinda… took off.” 

Absolutely and pathetically true.

“Oh, sometime in between that, he grabbed me by the throat; that was fun.”

He nods at Miguel, who gives him a thumbs up. Paper trail for Version One successfully established. Hopefully they won’t have to pull that trigger, but now they could. Anytime.

“WHAT?” his dad yells through the phone. 

According to Demetri, Kreese is still packing up his things at the office. He better get out of town in the next five minutes. Robby doesn’t think his dad owns a gun, but he wouldn’t put it past him to construct a functioning bomb out of his car radio.

Tory leans in from over Robby’s shoulders. “It’s fine. I punched him real good, don’t worry.”

“TORY ," Sam hisses. “You’re not supposed to–”

“Who was that?” On the other line, LaRusso is clearly struggling to wrestle the phone back. “Is Sam with you? Is she– Okay, settle down , Johnny! No-one’s killing anybody!”

“Remember when you said you’re not going to jail for him, Dad?” Robby says patiently. 

“I remember telling him I’ll cut his dick off–”

“Okay," Robby interrupts with a concerned look toward the fourteen year olds on the other side of the bonfire. “Let’s not do that, okay? He’s leaving town anyways. It was like half a second before I showed him what Miyagi-Do defense is made of. Please, Dad. Just… drop it, okay?”

There’s a long silence, then Johnny chokes out something that sounds vaguely affirmative.

“Are you sure?” Mr LaRusso is back on the phone.

“Yeah.” Robby grins at Demetri. “I mean, I can always change my mind, right? No statute of limitations on attempted murder.”

“ATTEMPTED WHAT?” his dad shouts in the background, and if they’re still at the restaurant, they’re definitely about to be kicked out.

“Just kidding.” Robby rolls his eyes. “Wow. Someone can’t take a joke. Why don’t you two come down to the beach and check how dead I really am? I promise we’ll get rid of all the evidence of underage drinking till you get there.”

“Very funny," LaRusso says, but his voice is still shaky. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and leave an absolutely unreasonable tip so I don’t get banned from my favorite restaurant.”

*

When Robby’s dad arrives at the beach, he gives him such a big hug Robby really almost passes out this time. Mr LaRusso‘s hug is shakier, but tight regardless. 

“You did karate?”

“I mean, the doctor said it was fine…”

LaRusso’s eyes narrow. “I’m not even going to address the fact that you got cleared for karate and immediately fought one of the most dangerous people in town. And by the way… You want to tell me what Hawk and Tory are doing here?”

Robby shrugs. “Apparently Kreese said some really nasty stuff about them, so Aisha said we should bring them and she’d vouch for them. It was kind of a pity invite.”

It takes about two minutes of hovering before they’re convinced Robby’s alright and finally buzz off. Dad goes to welcome Aisha, LaRusso goes to make sure Sam’s okay. Robby sits back down and gets himself a coke. He really needs some sugar.

Finally, his dad remembers they brought Robby his steak leftovers, which he eats in front of the fire with his bare hands. He sort of ends up sharing with Tory, because if any punch deserves a bite of perfect steak, it’s the one he saw her deliver earlier.

It’s a clear, beautiful night, and the sand is soft as clouds. Robby floats back and forth, dancing and drinking and laughing and hugging people. 

Suddenly, Hawk is in front of him, looking pale and guarded.

“I just wanted to say… um… I'm sorry about what I--”

“Yeah,” Robby says, stepping close enough so people can't hear. “I don’t want another one of your fake-ass apologies. If you ever bring this up to anybody ever again, especially Sensei LaRusso, I’ll stick your balls in a food processor. He can never find out what you said. Got it?”

A flicker of understanding sparks in Hawk’s eyes.

“Oh no”, he mutters.

“Yeah." Say something dumb, Robby thinks. I fucking dare you.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yup.”

“I didn’t– Kreese said—“

Robby sighs. “Yeah, I know. I figured.”

Kreese's knowlegde of what really happened was the only reason Robby wanted to do this so soon, but it only occurs to him now how big of a big risk this was. If Robby had pushed the wrong buttons, Kreese might have brought up Mr LaRusso’s past to get under Robby’s skin, and everyone would have heard. Sam would have heard. 

Hawk shakes his head in astonishment. “I swear I had no idea, man. I wouldn’t– I mean… Fuck. I would have killed me if I were you.”

Robby takes a deep breath. Cool water. Level-headedness.

“What for? You didn’t say anything, right? Nothing happened.”

It comes out sounding more like a threat than a peace offering, but after a brief hesitation, Hawk solemnly nods at Robby.

“Yeah. Okay. Nothing happened.”

And yeah, Robby still kind of wants to kick his teeth in a little bit.

But whatever deal they just made - he can live with that.

*

Half an hour later, Robby ends up standing around at the shore with his dad, shoes off, toes in the water.

“So how was the rest of your dinner?” Robby prompts.

“How was Miguel’s imaginary essay?”

Robby laughs before he can help it.

“You’re a menace, Robby Keene.” 

His dad ruffles his hair, and Robby almost tears up. 

“You know you don’t have to trick us into hanging out, right?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could just grow up and ask him yourself.”

His dad takes a sip of beer. Eyes on the horizon. 

“You want to hear something fucked up?”, he says.

“Uh…”

“When I found out you didn’t remember last year, I was a bit… relieved? Thought it could be a do-over for us. Second chance. But I don’t really know if I’m doing a good job with it. Or with this conversation. I kind of chugged the rest of the wine before we left.”

Robby laughs. “You’re doing okay. How am I doing?”

His dad finally makes eye contact. “Pretty okay, too.”

And somehow, it feels like now or never. Robby wants to tell his dad everything. About their mission to set him and LaRusso back up, about the fight he overheard in the hospital, about all the other conversations he overheard – and thank God he did, because his dad yelling about “emojos” gave him the idea for the Kreese trap. 

But maybe it’s not really about memories anymore. Maybe it’s all about feelings.

“I'm sorry about the fight at Mr LaRusso’s home dojo.” It comes out as a whisper. “I remembered it. Well, parts of it. You two looked really happy, and you were having fun and then you… you got really mad when you found out he was teaching me.”

Robby’s father bites his lip and looks at the ground. “Not my best moment.”

“If I hadn’t messed it up, maybe…”

“Hey. Hey. Don’t say that, Robby. You know what we’re like. If it hadn’t been about you, it would have been something else.”

“But it was about me.”

His dad takes a deep breath. “No. It was about me. Someone else was picking up the slack, and it made me feel like shit.”

Robby swallows. “I saw you in the parking lot. With Miguel. Giving him your old gi. That’s why I went to LaRusso, cause I felt…”

Robby’s dad barks out a laugh. “We’re just fucking champions at this.”

He puts his arm over Robby’s shoulder and they stare up at the stars. Robby thinks of his Big Issues list. Not so big you can’t solve them in two weeks, apparently. Kreese is leaving. The money fights have gotten shorter and fewer. And Robby and his dad are actually talking to each other. About their feelings !

Robby spends a good half minute brainstorming what they should do next before he stops himself. Maybe this is a sign. Big issues solved means everything else is up to them. 

If LaRusso and his Dad still love each other, they’ll figure it out somehow. And if not, Robby’s just going to have to deal with it.

It’s a weird feeling, relinquishing control. Letting go of the mission that’s kept him going for the last weeks, treading water in this new and confusing life. A few days ago, he was on a five-way skype call planning to blackmail a violent senior citizen into leaving town. 

Now he’ll have to focus on normal things again. Karate. Homework. Dating.

It’ll be an adjustment for sure.

Suddenly, Miguel is next to them.

“Hey Sensei, can I borrow Robby? We need someone for volleyball.”

“Sure thing," his dad says as he awkwardly clears his throat. Then he points at the bonfire. “I’m going to see if there’s marshmallows left.”

He walks off towards the dancing teenagers by the fire. LaRusso is over there, too, chatting with Aisha and Chris. He and Miguel turn the other way, to the volleyball field where Sam and Demetri are waiting.

The sand is cool under Robby’s bare feet. 

“Hey," Robby says once his dad is out of earshot, and stops walking. It’s a really awkward thing to bring up. Kind of feels like a breakup. “I was thinking, now that Kreese is gone and my dad and I actually manage to have conversations without shouting… maybe we should… you know. Bury our Two Dojos Both Alike In Dignity project.”

“Oh," Miguel says, and yup, this feels like the politest, weirdest breakup ever. “Yeah. No, I… I mean, sure. Let’s lay low for a bit. See if Romeo and Juliet figure it out on their own.”

“Cool.” Robby scratches his neck. “So should I… get someone else for your game? Now that we don’t have to make a new game plan with…” he gestures towards the volleyball field, “... with Handsome Rob and Lyle?”

They stare at each other for a few seconds. If Miguel was more like Robby, he’d probably agree. But Miguel is Miguel. And while he might have a lot of things in common with Robby’s dad, he’s not completely emotionally repressed.

“Robby. We don’t have to stop being friends just cause our father figures aren’t boning.”

Robby laughs out loud. “Yeah, I guess. True.”

“Unless you’re still mad about the school fight.”

“I don’t know. Not really, I think. Are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Silence.

“I got The Hobbit for our next Monday movie night, so…” Miguel finally announces. “If you want to miss your dad’s rants, that’s on you.”

“How did they make a three hour movie out of two poems glued together with weird dwarf names?” Robby complains in his best Johnny impression. “What do you mean, there’s three movies? How much crack are they smoking in New Zealand?”

“Oh, man. Best entertainment in the Valley. Imagine if you hadn’t gotten amnesia, you never would have gotten to hear that.”

“Yeah," Robby grins. “Imagine if they didn’t get divorced, we might still hate each other.”

Something in Miguel’s face changes. “What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“What do you mean divorced? You didn’t say they got divorced!” Miguel shoves him, and he looks genuinely pissed off now. Like they weren’t just laughing together five seconds ago. 

“Yes, I did! That’s literally why we were doing all this!”

“You said they broke up!”

“What the fuck is your deal, Miguel?”

Miguel takes off. By the time Robby catches up to him at the bonfire, he’s already shoved Johnny a few steps back. 

Robby tries to hold him back, but Miguel shakes him off like a madman. His eyes are full of tears. “You didn’t even tell me! I thought we were close!”

“What?” Dad takes a few steps back. “Miguel, what the fuck?”

“You didn’t invite me or anything! I thought you cared about me! You got married to Mr LaRusso and you didn’t even tell me?”

Dad exchanges a glance with Mr LaRusso. Neither of them looks uncomfortable or guilty, they just look confused. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!” Robby cuts in. “Why are you lying?”

The whole beach has fallen silent now and the crackling of the fire riles him up.

“You never shut up about him! Every single dinner, it’s two hours of you either making fun of him or flirting with him. You can’t seriously have the balls right now to stand here and still pretend there was nothing going on between you two!”

He feels like a first day law student arguing before the Supreme Court. Everything he and Miguel deduced together suddenly feels fucking ridiculous. He doesn’t really have anything. No rings. No pictures. No proof. But that’s not going to stop him.

He has to be right, because otherwise, none of this makes any sense.

“I get it, there were a lot of reasons you broke up, and I was part of it. Because I made things complicated with… with Sam, and with karate. I kept choosing my stepdad over my actual dad…” He swallows, tears in his eyes all of a sudden, and his voice is all the harder for it. “Like, I fucked it up, okay, I get it! But I was going to fix it! Miguel and I were going to fix it! I don’t need… fucking… family breakfast and waterparks and all of that, just be honest with each other and maybe give it another go – but no, you can’t get your shit together for five fucking minutes!”

Mr LaRusso steps forward and puts a gentle hand on Robby’s shoulder. “I think you might have misunderstood—“

“Misunderstood?” Robby explodes. “You need to shut your entire fucking mouth! I heard you! All three times. I heard what you said the night of the barbecue, loud and clear!”

“Well, then you heard that nothing happened!” Johnny barks. “He had way too much to drink! I’m not a complete piece of shit!”

“What are you talking about?” LaRusso seems deeply confused. “What do you mean, three times?”

Robby pushes his Dad backwards. “Do you want to tell him or should I? Hm? You wanna tell your precious Daniel what happened?”

“Johnny, what is he talking about?”

Johnny completely ignores LaRusso. He walks up to Robby and calmly grabs him by his shoulders, and to his absolute horror, Robby realizes that he has fully started crying now.

 “He loves you, you asshole,” he shouts, trying to shove his father’s arms away. “You’re a closeted alcoholic who broke his heart and he still wants you back! What is wrong with you?”

Johnny just holds on, and this is wrong, this is all wrong; Robby isn’t supposed to be crying in his Dad’s arms right now, he’s not supposed to be breaking down in front of everyone he knows. 

This is supposed to be his night of victory.

“Robby,” Johnny says quietly. “Robby. Listen to me. Why do you think we were married to each other?”

Fuck this. Fuck this stupid puzzle piece garbage.

“Because you said so! At the hospital! You said ‘if you hadn’t been so distracted by’…”

He swallows. Did his dad say ‘our divorce’? Did he say ‘the divorce’?

And it hits him all of a sudden. It’s like he’s been staring at an optical illusion all month and can finally see the second animal he was supposed to be seeing the whole time.

Amanda. Mr LaRusso was getting divorced from Amanda. Amanda, who he actually has pictures with, and kids with, and who comes over and drops off paperwork. Amanda, who Mr LaRusso refers to as his ex-wife. Co-parents. Business partners. Better off platonic.

He stumbles back a few steps, away from the bonfire, away from his friends. Demetri's mouth hangs open. Hawk takes an absent-minded bite from his marshmallow, looking back and forth between Robby, Johnny and Mr LaRusso. Tory is whispering something into Aisha's ear.

Miguel and Sam are closest to him, and they're staring at Robby wide-eyed, like they’re trying to help him from falling apart but aren’t sure where to hold onto him.

Help me, he wants to scream. Come on! You all backed me up! One of you has to know something!

Robby just spent an entire month trying to save a relationship that never really existed. But the worst part is: He knows they’re wrong. He knows it like his body knows to get out of bed at six in the morning, he knows it like his feet know to take off his shoes, his hands know how to block a punch – wax on, wax off. This is deeper than knowledge. It feels like muscle memory.

There’s no arguing. No amnesia can beat it out of him. Up at six. Wax on, wax off.

“Screw this," Robby chokes out, and takes off towards the cars.

Chapter Text

Robby leaves the car somewhere in a fast food parking lot and walks the rest of the way to Miyagi-Do. No to way in hell is he gonna get caught by having the car in front of the house. 

He doesn’t really know where he’ll go after he's gotten his stuff. Definitely not Sam’s house. She’d call her dad for sure. Miguel, too, probably. And he has no idea where Demetri lives. Some friends he’s made. Also, all of them probably think Robby is a total nutcase now. Fucking great.

He called Sam in the car, ignoring her pleas to turn around, to tell her where he’s going, and he asked her over and over again until she told him the date.

The PIN wasn’t her birthday. It was their anniversary. 1308. 

But Robby knew it before he opened his chats. His camera roll. He knew he wouldn’t find any proof to back up his version.

When he finally opens the front door of Miyagi-Do, he doesn't even bother taking his shoes off. He goes straight into LaRusso’s room. Robby opens drawers and folders without knowing what he’s looking for. Something impartial. Something true. And he finds it in the upper right drawer, among a mountain of stupid paperwork.

It’s an invoice from a lawyer with an introduction that says ‘pertaining to the divorce of Amanda LaRusso and Daniel LaRusso, filed on Monday–-’.

The date is barely two and a half months ago. 

Months after the All Valley.

Mr LaRusso was still married to Amanda months after when Robby thought the divorce between him and Johnny happened.

He throws the letter back into the drawer and slams it shut, then turns around and leans against the desk, grinding his teeth in despair. 

Don’t fucking cry again.

The room is rather bare. That bed is where they were sitting the night of the barbecue. And apparently while Robby was living through fifty shades of second hand heartbreak, LaRusso was just drunk out of his mind and Johnny was just being a good pal? Nothing makes sense anymore.

Did he hallucinate all these conversations? If Daniel and Johnny weren’t talking about the divorce, what in the actual fuck were they talking about? 

Why is everything so confusing? He has amnesia, for God’s sake. Can’t everyone just stop doing things that’ll lead him to blurt out wrong assumptions in front of everyone he knows? Is that really too much to ask?

Suddenly, the door to the dojo bangs open and he hears two voices he definitely does not want to hear right now. He throws a quick glance around the room. If he tries to escape through the window, they’ll be able to see him from the corridor. His only hiding option is the wardrobe. 

He slips in soundlessly.

“We could have just gone to the hospital," Mr LaRusso says, “it’s right around the–”

“Hospital takes too much time. I’ll do it.”

Hospital? Great. Robby can only hope that there wasn’t another group fight.

“I can check myself in. You go look for Robby.”

“I’m not going without you.”

LaRusso sighs in resignation. “Fine.”

“Sit down in the kitchen, I’ll go check if Robby’s around. ROBBY!”

His dad slides the paper doors open with anticipatory horror movie bangs , getting closer and closer. Kitchen. Bathroom. Robby’s room. Finally, LaRusso’s room. Robby holds his breath. He can’t see his dad from here – the wardrobe is right next to the door. His dad would have to step into the room to see him. Is he going to…?

“Not here," his dad sighs, leaving the door open as he steps back outside. “Didn’t I tell you to sit down?”

“I had to get the first aid kit.”

He doesn’t hear much for a while except for a spray and then Mr LaRusso is hissing. “Have you done this before?”

“Yeah. Bunch of times.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

Mr LaRusso sighs, and then winces again.

“I should put on a new shirt while we’re here. Look at the sleeves.”

Robby shoots up like a meerkat. Fuck. If he needs a new shirt, someone’s gonna come look for it right here. And catch him. 

He has his phone out before he can even think twice about it. It doesn’t matter anyway. They don’t deserve privacy while they talk about how confused and stupid he is.

Gonna meet you at Miyagi-Do in twenty minutes. Both of you better be there.

If they’re not leaving, nobody has to get changed, right? And eventually, they’ll move outside or something, and that will give him an opportunity to sneak out. He hasn't gathered any of his stuff, but that doesn't matter. He'll just grab one of Mr LaRusso's sweaters, and that'll have to do for now.

“Nah, keep it on," his dad grumbles from the kitchen. “Makes us look more badass, with your bloody shirt. We’ll get quicker answers that way.”

LaRusso laughs, but it sounds hollow.

Outside, the notification arrives with a loud pling. Boomers, man. He doesn’t know anyone his age who still has loud text alerts on. “Johnny, it’s him! It’s Robby. He’s coming here.”

His father breathes out, long and hard. “Call the others.”

“No, we should wait until he gets here.”

“Yeah, no. We did that long enough. Oh, you’re gonna be there? I’ll believe it when I see it. Look where that shit got us. No. He says he’s coming, I believe him.”

Robby’s mouth is dry. Shit.

He blinked and missed a whole year of his dad working on himself. He thought he knew why. Because of Mr LaRusso. But now he’ll have to learn everything all over again. How many memory building blocks rested on the foundation that just crumbled? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Someone types, keys clicking softly, and then a phone lands on the kitchen counter. “Okay. I’ve sent everyone home. They know he’s on his way. And I told Robby we’re waiting.”

Right on time, Robby’s phone screen silently flashes up at him.

We’re here. We’ll get this all sorted out, I promise. 

Yeah, right.

They’ll probably get him committed or something.

Dad lets out a long sigh. “That kid’s gonna kill me one day.”

Plastic rustles - they're probably unpacking a part of the first aid kit - and then it’s quiet again for a while. Then –

“Can you believe Miguel pushed me?”

“You’re basically his hero, Johnny. He thought you eloped without telling him.”

“I was doing okay. With Miguel and Robby. Them getting along and everything. Now they’re both pissed at me again. Someone needs to take my dad license away for good.”

“They won’t be mad forever.”

“Can’t believe the best thing I ever did for the relationship with my son is marrying you, and that didn’t even happen. He just told me all this stuff, man, about the night I found out you were teaching him, how he thought he ruined things between us. And I still didn’t put it together! He just tried harder with me ‘cause he felt guilty.”

“No. He wanted to help you because he cares about you.”

“I don’t know. We’ve never been as close as you are. I didn’t expect the whole divorce thing, but I get why he thinks you’re his stepdad.”

“Johnny, I…”

„You said it yourself. ‘Our son’. To Kreese. If I find out that you know where our son is, you’re gonna wish… ” He trails off.

They went to see Kreese?  Shit, shit, shit.

Robby’s fucked everything up. So much planning, and then Robby ran away and fucked it up again. Of course that’s where they’d look for him, given what Robby had just told them. Kreese probably told them everything. Fuck!

“Heat of the moment, I guess," LaRusso says quietly. “Yeah, but that was… I overstepped. I know. I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s… uh. It's good. It’s good for him to… have you around.”

Robby knows how much it takes out of his father to admit that. It’s exactly what Robby’s been trying to say to Miguel. 

If he hadn’t been able to have an almost-father-son relationship with you, I don’t know if he’d have tried again with me.

And somehow, knowing that LaRusso accidentally called him his son doesn’t feel weird at all. A little confusing, now that he knows that the guy was never even his stepdad, that he just took him in because it was the right thing to do or something, but… He feels like they’re both his dads. Very different kinds of dads, but somehow exactly the right blend of stability and stupidity that makes sense for someone like Robby.

If only he hadn’t fucked it all up with his meddling!

“And… um…” Johnny murmurs. “Thank you. For…”

LaRusso sighs. “I shouldn’t have hit him that hard.”

“Yeah, how dare you save my life. None of your business if I get strangled to death two feet away from you.”

Oh my God. Holy shit.

Kreese did what?  And LaRusso intervened?

This is not exactly a scenario in which Robby can poke his head out of the closet and ask clarifying questions, but it seems pretty clear cut even without the background information. Robby’s blackmail riled Kreese up enough to take it out on the first unfortunate soul that he ran across. Which just happened to be Robby’s Dad – pissed off, worried out of his mind, all caution thrown to the wind. Fuck. That’s the opposite of what he wanted.

“Mr Miyagi barely had to put his hands on him back then,” LaRusso murmurs. “I just…”

“Can you stop talking about how much you regret preventing my murder?”

“Hey. No. That’s not what I mean. You know it isn’t. I just don’t like being the person that comes out of this with bloody knuckles. I look like I’ve been in a prison fight.”

“I know. It’s–”

His dad stops himself so abruptly that Robby just knows he was about to say something stupid. What the fuck is going on here? He licks his lips, dry from the heat, and his entire body stills, like he’s trying to be quiet enough to hear his dad’s thoughts.

But it’s LaRusso who speaks first.

“I didn’t… um… I didn’t cross any boundaries Wednesday night, did I?”

It seems to take a few seconds until the implication sinks in for Johnny, and then he’s almost tripping over himself trying to reassure LaRusso. “No! No, don’t worry. Nothing like that. You’re fine.”

“Okay. So what did I do, then?”

Chair legs screech over the floor. They’re standing up. It doesn't sound like they're moving away from the direct line of sight into Mr LaRusso's room, though.

Come on, Robby silently pleads with them. Just walk a few steps. Please.

But nobody seems to be moving at all.

When his dad starts talking again, his voice sounds guarded. “Look. At the beach, at first I thought Robby had lost it. Like something really came loose in his brain.”

Robby rolls his eyes. Now they’re gonna bond over how much of a dumbass he is. I knew it.

“Don’t change the topic, Johnny.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what happened after the barbecue? What did Robby overhear?”

“Just listen for a second. The thing is, when we were driving back from Cobra Kai, I realized… Robby defaulted to the only thing he could be sure of: that his dad’s an idiot. If I woke up with amnesia and there was some guy offering to pay all my hospital bills, and my son lives with him, and he calls me and invites me for meals, just the three of us, and I can’t talk to him for five minutes without getting pissed off, but it's also kinda fun to hang out with him. And he makes me playlists. And he hits on me when he gets too drunk... I mean, I can see myself thinking - That’s obviously my ex, and I’m an idiot who fucked it up.”

“Well," LaRusso says in that polite tone Robby recognizes as Lawrence-Keene-boys damage control, “and then at some point during that thought process it would probably occur to you that you’re straight.”

Utter silence.

Robby feels like throwing something.

What the fuck?

What the fuck is happening?

He hears his father clearing his throat. And then his voice, coarse and clueless and trying so fucking hard, saying “I went on a date with a guy. Bobby set us up.”

Robby almost drops his phone. Bobby’s blind date was a guy ? 

But all the stuff Robby said, all the hints he dropped that he’d be fine if Johnny was dating men, that he should work on his internalized homophobia… that was based on his deduction that him and Mr LaRusso–

Which they weren’t. So why would Bobby –

“Yeah, I was worried I’d freak out once things got real, like outside of my head, so he said I should do a dry run. See that it’s just as boring as a normal date. I mean… not ‘normal’ …” Johnny exhales audibly. “Fuck, I’m bad at this. I just wanted to say, uh… My date was a guy. So.”

“Okay.” LaRusso sounds honestly taken aback. “How did that go?”

“How’d you think? He was a complete idiot. Showed up in a suit like he was going to a job interview or something. Wouldn’t shut up for an hour.“

LaRusso laughs cautiously. „Thought that was your type. Smug and pretty?“

Another silence. Robby’s heart is beating in his ears. He remembers how this felt at the beach. Real. Real in his body. Up at six. Shoes off at the door. Oh my God.

He was right. He was fucking right. Maybe not about the marriage, but he was right about this. This isn’t some weird case of him getting his wires crossed. They actually like each other. In real life. Currently. Next door.

When Mr LaRusso speaks again, Robby can’t even process that it’s him for a second. It’s like the difference between grape juice and wine. Because his voice is warm and open like always, but there's something in it now that makes it sound absolutely fucking filthy. “He didn’t want to break your nose as foreplay or what was the problem?”

“Something like that, yeah," Johnny breathes. “Do you want to?”

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three heartbeats, and something collides heavily with the floor. 

Robby freezes. Wait. Are they fighting or making out?

Suddenly, his Dad’s amused voice rises above the breathing and shuffling. “Thank God you kiss better than you fight.”

LaRusso laughs out loud. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

He sounds unreasonably turned on. These two are fucking unhinged. Honestly, it’s a miracle Robby turned out so normal.

“Should have done this at the hockey game,” Johnny breathes.

“Yeah? You would have wanted me to do this in front of the kids?”

“Holy fucking–" Johnny says, and the rest of it drowns in a loud kiss, and then a moan that makes Robby want to crawl out of his skin.

Okay. This was the general idea, but Robby didn't really plan on being present for the… consummation. He needs to get out of here now. He can’t just keep standing here and listening to them… 

Fuck. Are they going to come in here at some point? Probably. Shit, shit, shit. He needs to be quick, before this escalates entirely. They're definitely distracted now, which gives him a window of opportunity. Literally. He needs to climb out of the window.

Robby bends down to pick up a random sweater, standing back up while already running toward the window– 

The world goes dark around him.

Chapter Text

He smells the hospital before noticing anything else – but the sound of quiet arguing isn’t far behind.

“...might be better if they had the full picture of what happened to him.”

“I’m not telling her that he caught us making out and hit his head on a fucking closet door. You gotta be kidding me. He hit his head, end of story." Johnny doesn't sound half as relaxed as he probably wants to. "It's only been like twenty minutes. The doctor said not to worry unless it takes him more than an hour to wake up, right? You wanna fight her on this? You got a secret medical degree I don't know about?”

Mr LaRusso takes a deep breath. "You're right; he'll be fine. Let's just wait."

Robby forces his eyes open just a little bit. They're sitting on two chairs by the window, barely any physical space between them. Johnny looks up, meets LaRusso's eyes, and immediately looks away again.

"Should have told me that an hour ago. Just wait. I have such shitty timing. Made everything worse again."

"I mean..." Mr LaRusso says. "Not everything, right?"

He lays a hand on Johnny's thigh, who puts his own on top almost absent-mindedly, before staring down and sighing again. But he doesn't let go of LaRusso's hand.

"You know what I mean. There's too much going on. With Robby, and with the dojos, and... And we can't stand each other half the time! I mean, I... you know. I'm into you. Or whatever. And I had fun earlier. But this was a bad idea. Right?"

"Well. For what it's worth, I think I'm the best bad idea you ever had."

Johnny chuckles.  “Easy, LaRusso. You’re not even gonna take me to dinner first?”

He doesn't sound like he's really talking about dinner - ew - but the heaviness has melted out of his voice. He gave LaRusso another out, and he didn't take it.

“I took you to dinner three hours ago,” Mr LaRusso protests, leaning in provocatively. "And I'm very glad to hear you had fun, because I'm into you too, or whatever, as you so eloquently put it--"

"Shut the fuck up," Johnny groans, and grabs his face to kiss him.

“Okay, okay, timeout," Robby croaks, still too groggy for his voice to come out right, but it feels loud enough to wake the whole hospital. “We get it, you’re horny. I’m not ready for round two of this shit.”

“No swearing," LaRusso exclains automatically, but he’s already on his feet. He’s got blood on his sleeve cuffs, and his right hand is wrapped in gauze. His face is flushed. "Thank God you're awake, Robby!"

“Welcome back," Dad adds.

They both look at him expectantly, but Dad is the one who finally asks.

“So do you remember…”

“Do I remember telling the entire West Coast you fucked, only for you to deny it and then immediately try to fuck the second you get home? Yeah.” He coughs. “Unfortunately, I still remember that. Where’s amnesia when you need it?”

The two adults sheepishly avoid each other’s gazes.

“Oh my God," Robby groans. “I just spent a month trying to get you two back together. It’s fine if you like each other. But if you’re gonna start boning, can we please move to a different apartment? Where the doors aren’t made of literal paper?”

They immediately devolve into a jumbled stammer of “We weren’t going to…” and “I mean, I was going to, but…” and “I’m so sorry you heard that”.

Yikes.

Finally, Mr LaRusso steps forward and sits down at Robby's bedside. "Robby, I'm so sorry about what happened on the beach. That must have felt awful. We just want you to know we don't blame you for any of this."

"It's okay," Robby says, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden. "Wasn't your fault, either. All of us just kind of... talked past each other the whole time."

"I guess we did, huh."

Mr LaRusso looks up at Johnny who has been looking at him, practically glued to his side, like this new Daniel who likes him back could disappear at any time - and Robby just can't resist teasing them.

"So... is stepdad back on the table yet?"

Johnny goes bright red. Mr LaRusso opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Wow, these two have got it bad.

Robby sighs. “Can someone get me a doctor? Maybe?”

He’s never seen an authority figure abandon him this fast. Johnny runs to get a doctor, LaRusso leaves to get some coffee for the three of them.

When they get back, Robby has prepared himself for the doctor’s amnesia questions. What he doesn’t expect is how easy it is this time. Now that he has the proper context and timeline, there don’t seem to be as many gaps as yesterday. The tetris board of confusing and contradictory facts has been slapped like an uncooperative printer, and finally the months slot together and disappear with a shower of sparkles and score points.

All the important things are there. His first kiss with Sam. Working at LaRusso Auto. A lot more details on the school fight than he’d care to remember. Fights with his dad he didn’t particularly need to recall.

"Just like I said yesterday," the doctor says approvingly. “Almost back to normal. What you don’t remember now should be there in the next few days. Let's do one more Friday appointment next week.”

“So I’m… fine?” Robby says incredulously.

“One second. Let’s see.” LaRusso squeezes in on the other side of the bed. “When did Amanda and I split up? Do you remember?”

Yeah, he can’t really blame him. That’s where things went wrong the first time.

“During summer, I think," Robby says slowly. “You moved your stuff into Miyagi-Do, and when you found out about my mom, you said I could stay there, too.”

“Do you know what happened at the All-Valley?”

Robby’s hand goes to his shoulder automatically. “I got hurt," he says. It’s surprising how effortless it is. “And then… Miguel beat me in the finals. But it was really close.”

“It sounds like you’re back online," LaRusso smiles. “Oh Robby, I’m really glad!”

“Are you sure? I don’t remember anything I did in school last year.”

“Do you remember what you did in school last week?” Johnny interrupts brashly. “Or were you too busy jumping to conclusions and… tindering us behind our backs?”

Robby grins. “I mean, good point.”

So, that’s it then. Back online.

The doctor collects her things while Johnny makes a joke about how they could have fast-tracked this by just hitting Robby over the head with a karate board. LaRusso does such a perfect face palm Robby laughs right in the doctor’s disapproving face.

He’ll probably have to do another interviews in the morning before he can leave. But for now, he’s supposed to rest. Robby reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and opens the Bye Bye Snake group chat. 

Around ten, right after Robby disappeared at the beach, Demetri has added Aisha, Hawk and Tory and renamed it “Search For Robby”. There have been no messages for about an hour, so presumably things didn’t go completely off the rails after Mr LaRusso called off the search. 

Then again, you never know.

ROBBY: how are things with Steve?

DEMETRI: Steve’s long out of town. 

DEMETRI: Sensei LaRusso sure knows how to help someone pack. lol

- Demetri has shared a video -

AISHA: holy fuck.

SAM: is my dad bleeding? wtf?

TORY: damn near knocked his lights out lmao

AISHA: “that’s the last time you ever put his hands on him” EXCUSE ME????

DEMETRI: if that doesn’t convince your dad to actually marry him, I don’t know what will

DEMETRI: sorry… too soon?

HAWK: wait how come larusso was allowed to punch him? also, how come tory was allowed to punch him? everyone got to get one in but me. 

TORY: i mean, you’re the only one who threw a drink on him

HAWK: good point! fuck yeah!

MIGUEL: ok everyone shut up

MIGUEL: robby are you alive?

ROBBY: i’m at the hospital but I'm good.

ROBBY: so good the amnesia’s pretty much gone

MIGUEL: NICE

ROBBY: just wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck things up

AISHA: Are you kidding? Tonight was EPIC

AISHA: I move away for one month, suddenly the senseis are married and then they’re not married and then there’s a city wide runaway search AND a hospital stay??? In under two hours? Insane. Also Tory set her shoe on fire.

AISHA: I miss valley drama

SAM: You weren’t the one who had to reassure Miguel he’d for sure be best man if his Sensei really got married. For 20 minutes.

MIGUEL: wow

MIGUEL: hearsay

TORY: Literally all of us were there

He looks up at his dad drinking vending machine coffee with LaRusso. They’re standing by the window, arguing quietly about something that doesn’t matter at all. Robby can tell from his face. This is playful complaining. Relief and jokes and affection. Now that it's clear Robby's going to be okay, he's got other things on his mind.

“Hey Dad," Robby says, and he looks up like he’ll never get tired of hearing it. “Have you asked him to be your boyfriend yet or are you too much of a pussy?”

His dad turns bright red. LaRusso laughs and slings an arm around Johnny’s shoulder. “Yeah, Johnny, do you have anything to ask me?”

“You can both go to hell," Johnny informs them. “An eagle moves at his own pace.”

LaRusso sighs. “I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

“You’re what?” Johnny grins.

“Yeah, I’m not saying it again.”

“Then I guess I don’t have anything to ask you.”

“Really? What happened to striking first?”

Is it bad that Robby immediately wants to break them up again? He would pay actual money to forget the thrilled expression on his father’s face. Hastily, he looks back down at the chat.

DEMETRI: I gotta say, Keene, I admire your commitment. 

DEMETRI: You say you’re not good at interpretative essays and then decide to make your baseless interpretation everyone else’s problem. Pretty weird, but also impressive.

ROBBY: Trust me, things are about to get much, much weirder.

“Wait, you still didn’t tell me what I said Wednesday night,” LaRusso suddenly protests.

Johnny swoops him up in a kiss that is entirely inappropriate considering it’s taking place in a hospital room with his injured child in it. “That about cover it?” 

“Johnny Lawrence, if you don’t get your hand off my ass–”

“Hello?” Robby says. “Seriously? If you don’t get the hell out of my room, I’m calling security. And I mean that.”

LaRusso takes a few steps toward the bed. “Are you sure you’re okay to be left alone overnight?”

Robby is holding up his phone in mock threat. “If the two of you don’t fuck off right now, Sam and Miguel are finding out about this through text. I made this relationship. I can break it.”

For once, LaRusso doesn’t seem to care about the swearing at all. He grins. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“See you in the morning," Johnny says, beaming like an idiot.

“Nope. I’m asking Sam to pick me up. I’m not dealing with… all of that. First thing in the morning. No.”

They shuffle towards the door. Johnny stops in the door and smiles back at Robby. “So–”

“I’m sorry,” Robby blurts out, because he’s just terminally incapable of not making things weird. “For what I said at the beach. I was upset and I just… I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey. Don’t worry about it. We’re even, man. I owe you. You know. For…” Johnny nods down the hall towards where Mr LaRusso has disappeared. “Thank you.”

He looks so happy that it’s hard to look at him directly. Robby feels almost like this is his most intrusive moment yet, just seeing his dad shamelessly pleased that he gets to be with Daniel LaRusso. What a dork.

Robby smiles. “You’re welcome.”

But Johnny doesn’t leave. He just sort of stands there like he’s not sure what to say next.

Robby rolls his eyes. “Love you too. Now get out of here!”

*

On Saturday afternoon, roughly eight hours after Sam has picked Robby up from the hospital, Johnny and Mr LaRusso assemble all their older students in the Miyagi-Do yard for "optional extra training, but you better show up if you know what's good for you". Robby stands in the front of the group, finally part of things again instead of just a garden chair observer. 

„So,” Johnny says, briefly looking over to Mr LaRusso. “Apparently you guys all think you're the FBI or something. And we're gonna talk about that later. But before shit goes completely off the rails again because of your dumbass plans, we thought we’d tell you early. LaRusso and I are going out.“

„Daniel and I,“ LaRusso corrects.

Next to Robby, Miguel gasps. „What? For real this time?“

„Yup, for real.“

Johnny looks really proud of himself, but he can barely sustain his Hell Yeah pose for two seconds before Miguel crashes into him and hugs him. „Holy shit! Congrats, sensei!“

It was honestly really hard for Robby not to text him immediately, but his Dad asked him to wait. And yeah, it was kind of worth it.

Miguel moves straight on to Daniel, who looks a little surprised to be hugged, but takes it in stride. “Congrats to you, too!”

“Thank you, Miguel.”

The rest of the students fall into an excited chorus of congratulations.

Johnny scowls at them. „Why is Miguel the only one of you little conspiracy bitches who’s acting surprised?“

„I just walked in on you making out when I went to the bathroom“, Demetri says incredulously. „Like ten minutes ago. And again on the way out of the bathroom! Are you serious? Didn’t you see me?“

“Sensei, you tweeted ‘guess who just got laid’ like fifty times in a row this morning.” Hawk is next to Demetri, decked out in Eagle Fang red. “I unfollowed you again, by the way.”

LaRusso doesn’t seem too concerned about Johnny’s tweets. He’s looking at his daughter. „Sam? You knew, too?“

She smiles awkwardly. „Sorry, Dad. You promised to make me Chocolate Bananarama pancakes tomorrow. That's an appeasement breakfast.“

„I can’t believe this!“

„Also, you’re wearing his hoodie“, Robby adds.

LaRusso looks down on himself. „Shit.“

„Swear jar,“ Robby sing-songs.

Sam smiles playfully. “Honestly, Dad, the wildest part isn’t even that Robby thought you were married, but that you were secretly married.”

“Well. Johnny’s tweets and my wardrobe malfunction aside, I know this is a big change… Okay, stop laughing, Robby!” LaRusso looks scandalized. “It is a big change to some people. And it’s okay if you guys have questions–”

Demetri raises his hand. “I got one.”

“Absolutely not,” LaRusso says. “Anyone else.”

Demetri lowers his hand again. “Good call.”

Hawk pipes up next. “So if you’re both senseis, then who says ‘yes sensei’ when you’re–”

“Shut the hell up, Hawk,” Johnny barks. “You’re on thin fucking ice as is.”

Hawk snickers. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t lie to my face. Thirty pushups on your knuckles.”

Hawk rolls his eyes and drops down to the ground.

“I have a question.”

The whole group turns to see who has spoken. Tory stands by the garden gate, a gym bag over her shoulder. She looks stiff. Like a little spiky cactus in the middle of a wildflower meadow.

She takes a deep breath. “If the dojos are now… merging or whatever, are the Miyagi-Do lessons still free?”

LaRusso looks to Sam, who looks conflicted and bites her lip.

Tory crosses her arms defensively. "Hawk said you're training today, right? Or is this just the... the wedding announcement or whatever?"

“You want to join Miyagi-Do?” Sam asks, arms crossed. "Do you know any defense?"

Tory’s eyes briefly flicker over to Robby. “I know... five different ways to get out of a headlock?”

And it looks like that was the push Sam needed. After what they heard Kreese say about her yesterday, it's kind of hard to say no to Tory right now. Honestly, they should send him a gift basket for what he's done for inter-dojo cooperation. A booby-trapped gift basket, of course.

Sam gives a slow nod. "Yeah. Okay."

“Okay, fall in,” Mr LaRusso says. “We can work with that.”

There’s a bit of tense silence as Tory takes her spot with the Miyagi-Dos, then Maya lifts her hand. She wasn't even part of the whole matchmaking plan, but she's gotten really passionate about karate. She probably saw "extra training" and didn't even read the rest of the message before lacing up her shoes.

“Do we already have a date for the next dojo barbecue? My mom said she can make couscous salad.”

“Couscous salad?” Johnny scoffs. “What kinda gay shit is that?”

Demetri raises his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure you spent last night doing much gayer things than eating salad, but okay.”

“Damn right. Which is why I can say that now.” Johnny grins over at LaRusso. “We should have done this way sooner!”

LaRusso looks like he’s one gentle wind gust away from a mental breakdown. “You wish we’d done this sooner so you could have... called your students gay for eating healthy food? Thank you very much. I’m glad that’s the takeaway here.”

The warmup is separate as always. Robby’s in the first row next to Sam and Demetri, and his body feels solid and alive as he breathes his way through the exercises. Johnny’s putting on his dojo playlist into the CD player on the other side of the yard, and Demetri groans. “Can we listen to something else?”

Johnny looks mortally offended. “No? Fuck’s wrong with your ears?”

“I got this,” Miguel cuts in. “Sensei LaRusso, can you make him a second playlist? We’d like to have some variety, if that’s okay.”

Mr LaRusso grins at Johnny. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Johnny grins back and turns the volume up.

“You wanna turn that down a bit?” LaRusso shouts.

“Nope.”

Something feverish lights up LaRusso’s face.

While they meet in the middle of the yard to passionately argue about the CD player volume, Miguel takes the opportunity to jog over to the Miyagi-Do side.

"Hey," he says, hands in his pockets, smiling expectantly, and Robby emerges from his kata like from a pool, strangely out of breath but in a good way.

"Hey."

They look over to Johnny and Mr LaRusso, who look like they're trying very hard to not rip each other's clothes off in front of a bunch of teenagers. Miguel chuckles.

"I don't even know what you did after you left yesterday, but... good job, man."

Robby laughs. "That's a fucking story and a half. Stay for matcha after training and I'll tell you."

Miguel's eyes are golden in the low October sun. "Yeah?"

"I mean..." Robby swallows. This shouldn't feel scary, but it kind of does. "If you still want to be friends even though our father figures are boning?"

Miguel grins. "Thought you'd never ask."

Chapter Text

TWO WEEKS LATER

When he steps into the new apartment, his dad and Mr LaRusso sit at the table, leaning into each other, and they’re both positively glowing. Robby makes a face. “Gross.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you not like the result of your little conspiracy?” his dad says. “Tough luck.”

“I said what I said. Gross and embarrassing. Where’s the coffee?”

LaRusso puts a mug on the table and pours coffee in, never taking his hand off Johnny's thigh. “Here you go. Where’s Miguel?” 

“Told me to go ahead and he’ll catch up.”

He thought it’d be weird, still hanging out with Miguel now that they don’t have a mission to accomplish anymore. But Robby’s mom still isn’t out of rehab, and he had to stay somewhere while these two were… christening the place.

And it ended up being surprisingly similar to before. If all else fails, it turns out, it’s always a good laugh to bring up ‘that time Sensei Lawrence proudly mentioned how smart of a password ‘password’ is.’

His dad sounds very non-casual when he asks “How was your sleepover?”

“How was your sleepover?” Robby counters.

Dad hides his face behind his coffee cup.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

LaRusso’s eyes narrow playfully. “Your dad’s right, you’re going to have to put up with us being embarrassing. God knows we had to put up with enough. I haven’t forgotten that stunt with the pictures.”

“Pictures?” Johnny says. “What pictures?”

“Your softcore beach porn," Robby grins.

His dad looks more flustered by the minute. “You showed him those?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you going to strike first ?” Robby says smugly. “Because all I remember is you doing nothing for weeks, then telling Mr LaRusso maybe you’re not as straight as everyone thinks and him tackling you to the wall zero point four seconds later. He’s got ten times more game than you, just saying.”

LaRusso laughs. “Point, Keene.”

“Shut up," Dad groans.

“I don’t think so. I like how this conversation is going. Darling.”

Father and son wince in unison. Thankfully, right at that moment, the door opens and the rest of the LaRussos file in. Sam looks cautious; Amanda is carrying a gigantic gift basket. Anthony comes in last and seems to be most interested in the new TV on the wall.

“Nice place," Amanda says, hugging LaRusso. “Good choice.”

The way she grins at Johnny over LaRusso’s shoulder makes it abundantly clear she’s not only talking about the apartment. Johnny grins back. 

Once they’ve let each other go again, she turns to Robby.

“Come here.” She hugs him tight. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I should have double-checked that you’d cleared up every last bit of misunderstanding. I should have triple-checked, damn it.”

“Kind of glad you didn’t,” Robby jokes. “It all worked out okay, right?”

She playfully smirks at him. “Honestly, how did anyone get anything done before you?” And she’s off to say hello to Johnny.

Robby looks back at Sam.

She’s taking a look around the apartment, taking in the pictures – Daniel with Sam and Anthony, a funny shot of Sam and Amanda holding mint chocolate chip ice cream and sticking out their bright green tongues, dojo group shots. Her eyes linger on Robby’s favorite picture. It’s recent, from the day they started moving things into the new place. Dad came over to help, insisting on carrying the heaviest boxes, which inevitably turned into a competition with LaRusso, which inevitably turned into stolen kisses and indignant laughter. Finally, they fell asleep on the couch together, LaRusso’s head on Johnny’s chest. Robby simply had to sneak a photo. 

Sam’s face softens as she looks at it. 

She still looks a little awkward when she takes her seat next to Robby, but she smiles at her dad as she asks for the orange juice, and Robby’s heart settles in his chest. He’s not ruined anything. He did his best, and his dad did his best, and now they’re all having stupid family breakfast together. Figures.

You can say a lot about Robby and his dad, but they don’t do anything by halves.

They’ve barely settled around the table when Miguel comes in, settling on Sam’s other side and putting a tinfoil-covered bowl on the table. “My yaya says hi.”

It’s a good five minutes of chatting about the new apartment, the nice view, how close it is to Miyagi-Do, if Johnny is thinking about moving in – “All three of his socks are here," LaRusso teases. “It’s a formality at this point.” Johnny makes an outraged face at him and LaRusso looks so fucking lovestruck it could be cute if it weren’t, you know, directed at Robby’s dad. Gross.

Then Miguel suddenly gasps and turns to Robby. “Shit. Oh my God! We totally forgot to update Ali!“

Johnny frowns. “What do you mean, update?”

„You did not!“ LaRusso says, face contorting in shock.

Robby grins and shrugs. “Oh yeah, we definitely did.“

Miguel tries for a particularly innocent expression. “She was really happy for you guys. And she had so many good ideas!”

“You’re both grounded for the next fifty years,” Johnny says, pointing his knife at Robby and Miguel. “Unbelievable.”

Robby and Miguel can’t stop randomly breaking out in laughter for the next ten minutes.

Once everyone’s finished their first croissant and Anthony has run off with the Switch and the Nutella jar, Amanda turns around to Robby. 

“Okay, Mister Matchmaker. I want to know everything.”

“It was a joint effort," Miguel says generously.

“Excuse me?” Robby bristles. “You were junior partner, if anything. At the beginning, you didn’t even know they were involved.”

“Which makes sense, considering they, you know… weren’t.”

Robby smacks him over Sam’s head and earns a slap back from Miguel and a “Hey!” from both his dad and Mr LaRusso.

“Well," Robby says smugly once he’s settled back into his chair. “You weren’t together at that time, but what you were for sure is embarrassingly obvious.” 

“I wasn’t…”

“Especially you, Dad! Come on! Once I asked you if you were going out with men, all it took was the wind to change direction and you’d launch into a speech about how ‘You know who thinks he’s fucking irresistible? LaRusso with his cocky grin and his stupid jacket’ –”

“Okay, okay, we’ve all heard enough!”

“One time, I had to listen to a speech about how fighting gets your testosterone high and it’s normal for your body to get ‘confused’ about what that means.”

“What?”  Sam interjects.

“The dark days," Miguel says sullenly. “I will never be the same.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Robby says. “You see what I had to deal with, Amanda?”

Mr LaRusso looks like he’s having the time of his life. He elbows Johnny next to him. “Did you actually believe that or…?”

Robby turns to him with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry, do you really think you were any better? You kept buying him cars and dinners, and then you pretty much begged him to sleep with you the night of the barbecue. I hope you have some money saved for all the therapy I’m gonna need.”

“Yeah,” Miguel adds. “And I probably don’t need to remind you of his shirtless thirst trap photos you almost had an aneurysm over?”

Amanda’s jaw falls open. “I need to see those.”

“Easy, Mandy," Johnny says, patting LaRusso’s shoulders. “I got my hands full with this one already. I don’t need more people falling in love with me.”

Sam throws a piece of croissant at him. "Come on!"

Mr LaRusso leans forward and puts on his best salesman voice. “So what I’m hearing is that I was very caring, generous and protective and your father kept holding twenty minute monologues about how he found me repulsive beyond belief.”

Miguel nods. “Very Pride and Prejudice.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Daniel," Johnny sneers.

“No details, please," Robby mutters into his mug.

LaRusso proceeds to spit coffee over the entirety of the kitchen floor. Amanda laughs so hard juice almost comes out of her nose, and Sam slaps Robby’s arm for good measure.

Stupid, mortifying, perfect family breakfast.