His body stood motionless, seemingly lost to void. The only sign that assured Miguel was still alive was his rapidly beating heart

It can't be real, can it? Could my dad really be feet away from where I'm standing?

Every nerve in his body seemed to shake with anticipation. He had pictured this moment for so many times in his mind. He and his dad's eyes meeting as they smiled at one another before embracing in a hug. And now was THAT MOMENT. The moment he'd find out who his dad really was.

But what if he doesn't love me?

He'd always believed (or at least, hoped) that his dad would love him. But he had thought the same thing about Johnny.

No matter what happens, at least, I'll know.

He took one last deep breath and turned around to face the person who'd opened the door.

The man that stood before them bore a muscular look. His arms bulged beneath his dirtied black t-shirt and gray bathrobe. His legs were long, but sturdy. His short brunette hair pointed in all angles, though Miguel mostly attributed that to bedhead. In one hand, he was grasping a rolled newspaper and in the other hand, a half-drunk coffee cup.

"You better not have pranked me again, Harley!" shouted the man angrily as he looked around the yard, agitatedly.

His eyes landed on Miguel who was standing a few feet away, Snake resting his arm carelessly on his shoulder. It was as if time froze for several seconds as their eyes met.

Okay, you have to say something!

"Um, hi, I'm Miguel," said Miguel, nervously extending his hand.

"Snake! What are you doing here!" exclaimed the man, smiling widely.

He pushed past Miguel and pulled his friend into a tight hug before slapping him on the back.

"Well, you didn't think I'd never visit ya Mike, did ya?" smirked Snake, flailing his arms outward drunkenly.

"It's, it's okay, maybe he's just really happy to see his friend," though, nothing of what Miguel was feeling deep down felt okay.

"You look like you've sure been having some fun," nudged Mike, playfully.

"Might be fifty, but I'm still the same me," stated Snake, proudly.

"And who are you?" asked Mike, suddenly noticing that there was another person standing next to them.

"I'm-"

"He said he came here to see you," scoffed Snake.

Maybe they'd know if they didn't just keep cutting me off.

"Oh, I understand," smiled Mike, sympathetically before he walked into the house to grab something.

Hope slowly started to replace the anxiety filling Miguel's chest.

Maybe he's getting something from his and my mom's past?

He quickly jumped right as Snake bent over and threw up what was most likely the night prior's "adventures."

"Here you go," said Mike as he handed a piece of paper to Miguel.

It felt smooth against his fingers. When he looked down at it, he saw a shiny laminated version of Mike's face accompanied by his autograph.

You have got to be kidding me.

"Whoa, that wrecks," coughed Mike, gagging as he saw Snake hunched over.

Miguel was used to having to deal with drunks after spending so much time with his Sensei.

"This wasn't why I came here," said Miguel, trying to mask the annoyance in his voice.

"Why else would some random kid show up at my doorstep unless he wanted an autograph?" shrugged Mike.

Some random kid.

Even though he knew there was no way he'd know what he looked like considering they'd never met, there was still a part of him that dad hoped that there'd be this mutual feeling of certainty.

"Maybe drinking the sixth beer was a bad call," muttered Snake, hoarsely as he leaned back on the ground, dazed.

"We should take him inside and get him lying down," suggested Miguel as he gently grabbed Snake's arm, his muscles screaming as he lifted him up.

"I don't even know you, why would I let you in my house?" questioned Mike as he walked alongside them, taking a swig of his coffee after every few steps.

"Because I can take care of him while you finish getting ready for the day," explained Miguel, sighing.

It seemed that the realization that he wasn't dressed yet hit Mike.

"Fine, but keep him off the good pillows," warned Mike, pointing at Miguel accusingly.

The lights flickered as they entered the old house. The paint on the walls was mostly worn off, but the color was most likely purple. Photos hung on the walls of Mike being awarded trophies. In some, he was dressed in a karate gi and in others, he wore a wrestler's costume. Engraved in the frame of each photo was the name Mike Barnes.

So my dad's last name is Barnes. Also, that would explain why he thought I wanted an autograph.

Miguel noticed that a crack in the ceiling cast an ugly shadow upon the scrapped up kitchen table in the room to his right.

It seemed so nice from the outside...

He spotted a couch in the living room and laid Snake down on it. Immediately, dust flew in his face, making him splutter.

How is this place so dirty if he's been living here for years?

"It's great, isn't it?" smiled Mike, proudly as he sat lazily in a green armchair, now sporting a red t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Yeah, it's nice."

You have to tell him!

"Um, there's something I need to tell you," started Miguel, hesitantly.

If this conversation didn't go well then, his whole trip might have been for nothing.

"What?"

"I'm, I'm your son," finished Miguel.

The words hung in the air like poison, never person able to speak.

"I don't have a son," responded Mik,e plainly before gulping down the last of his coffee.

"You do, at least I think you do. I'm Carmen Diaz's son," continued Miguel slowly, his voice low.

At the mention of Carmen's name, Mike's expression went blank.

It must mean something to him.

"That's impossible. We never had a kid," insisted Mike, pushing himself out of his chair in disbelief.

He doesn't know?

"Here, my mom gave me this picture that she said you took in front of the house," offered Miguel.

He pulled a tattered old photograph out of a pouch inside his backpack and handed it to Mike. He'd brought it as a reminder of the place he was looking for. Despite its poor condition, life still seemed to burst from its image. The house stood tall and was painted a magnificent shade of turquoise. A young, lively, Carmen stood with her arms spread out happily as she posed in front of the house.

A single tear slid down Mike's face as he looked at the photo.

"You are my son," smiled Mike, widely before he pulled Miguel into a tight hug.