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SWEET CHILD O' MINE ; CHAPTER FOUR
[ season one, episode two ]

"What do you mean your dad is opening a karate dojo?"

Josie and Lainey shifted down the lunch queue. It was the first day back at school, and it'd been a week since Johnny opened Cobra Kai. As procedure went with best friends, Josie had told Lainey everything ── including the karate fight at the mini-mart and Miguel from 109 and staying at Sid's while her father was in jail and the little run in with her half-brother's mother. They spent all morning talking about it.

Lainey had spent her summer in Louisiana, and apart from having a minor fling with a guy, she hadn't done anything that interesting. She found herself very invested in Josie's summer story.

"Like, he's actually going to teach people karate?" Lainey quizzed, flicking her sheet of jet-black hair over her shoulder.

"Well, that's usually what happens when someone opens a dojo ── yeah," Josie said, a hint of sarcasm teeming in her voice.

"And Kyler?" Lainey blurted, lowering her voice warily and gazing around the cafeteria in search of the bully, "What was your dad thinking? He's indirectly sentenced me to a year of hell by association. I can't wait to have spitballs flying in my face or kick me signs pinned to my back."

Josie rolled her eyes and slid her plastic tray down the metal line. The people in front of her were handed their food by the grumpy-looking dinner-ladies behind the window, and then she and Lainey were next. Mounds of mash potato and rice were dumped onto their trays, accompanied by vivid green peas and a few mini sausages. Josie opted for the chocolate milkshake rather than the bottled water, as did Lainey. It was the first day back at school ── she could make healthier choices tomorrow.

Unfortunately, most of the tables were full. The only empty table had just been claimed by Moon and her companions, who certainly didn't fit Josie's criteria in terms of friendship.

Lainey drove out a vehement scoff from the back of her throat, "Don't tell me we're gonna have to sit in the toilets again."

"I already told you that was the first and last time," Josie said adamantly.

She grimaced at the memory from last year when someone uprooted their breakfast into the stall next door to her own as she and Lainey tried to eat their lunch. The putrid smell of vomit was the most memorable part. Josie couldn't eat cheese sandwiches anymore since they served as reminders of that grotesque moment.

With a sudden gasp, Lainey pointed out the partly desolate table near the front of the cafeteria, "Hey! Let's sit with Demetri."

Josie internally groaned. Not Demetri. If there were awards for talking nonstop about the most nonsensical of things, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt. He didn't know the meaning of silence. His friend, Eli, was the absolute opposite. He didn't talk. Josie wasn't even sure what his voice sounded like. Maybe that would even it out.

"Fine," she grumbled irritably.

Lainey beamed. She'd been friends with the Binary Brothers since middle school. Demetri was her neighbour, and their Moms were close, resulting in their inevitable acquaintanceship.

They weaved through the crowd of students flocking to find tables and plonked themselves down on the seats opposite Demetri and Eli.

Demetri blinked incredulously at them, momentarily pausing his intense yoghurt-scooping, "Uh, can we help?"

"Demetri," Lainey whined in anguish, "It's me, Lainey ── your neighbour. And Josie."

"Yes, I'm keenly aware of that fact, which is why I feel obligated to ask . . . can we help?"

Josie placed her tray on the table. She shot Eli a tender smile, which was hesitantly reciprocated on his part. She didn't know him very well other than the fact he was inhumanly intelligent when it came to Math. She sat beside him in it, and she spent a majority of the lessons secretly peering over Eli's shoulder to copy his answers ── although she was pretty sure he knew of the fact and let her copy regardless.

"We just want to sit with you," Lainey said, pressing her mouth into a firm smile, "It's not everyday you get to talk to the opposite sex, Demetri, so count your lucky stars."

"I've counted them," Demetri muttered bitterly, gazing into his yoghurt, "Besides, what's in it for you? Sitting with us is a one-way ticket to rejection and depression."

Josie poked a hole in her chocolate-milk carton with the jagged edge of a plastic fork, "We had no where to sit, so . . . I think I'll take rejection over eating my lunch in the grimy toilets any day." 

Lainey immediately whipped her head around, pinning Josie with a wide-eyed glare. Josie had pretty much admitted to the fact they were temporarily using the boys for someplace to sit.

"What?" Josie demanded vexingly, "You want me to sugar-coat it?"

Lainey sighed through her nose, "What she's trying to say is──"

"Josie with the karate-dad?"

Ah. She would recognise that extended nickname anywhere. Josie peered over her shoulder.

Standing rather awkwardly behind them was Miguel, her father's short-standing karate student and timid neighbour, carrying a plastic tray swathed in food. His backpack was almost the same size as him, giving off the impression of a turtle. He looked very out of place in comparison to half the teenagers in their grade ── he actually looked like a teenager and not an adult pretending to be one.

"Hey, Miguel," Josie greeted warmly. She scooted along the bench a little, knocking shoulders with Eli to create a space for her neighbour to sit.

Lainey's brow creased in confusion, "You two know each other?"

Josie gave a nod, "This is Miguel. He's my neighbour."

"Oh," Lainey breathed in recognition, briefly recalling the stories Josie had told her earlier and digging up the part where she mentioned Miguel, "The karate protégé. I see."

"Karate protégé? What, are you the next Jackie Chan in the making or something?" Demetri inquired less-than-admirably.

At that, Josie clicked her tongue, "Jackie Chan specialises in Kung Fu, not karate."

"Same thing," Demetri said, waving her off.

"Well, it's not, actually──"

"So, Miguel, what are you doing in the Valley?" Lainey interrupted, resting her chin in the palm of her cupped hand.

Miguel shrugged, "My Mom got a job here. It's better pay, and the apartments are cheaper than they are in Riverside so . . ."

"Riverside? I have family there. Did you know any Tenns?"

"Uh, no," said Miguel, scratching his forehead pensively, "But I did know some Tanners."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Lainey's mouth, "Not quite."

An awkward silence ensued. Sensing an aura of uncomfortableness, Josie quickly launched into action to shatter it and she stuck her hand out toward Demetri, who physically flinched away, "Miguel, this is Demetri. And that is Eli."

"He's a man of few words," Demetri added, gesturing to his best friend ── clad in a knitted sweater and looking rather pink in the face.

"Yeah, and he's a man of many," Josie said vehemently, jerking her chin in Demetri's direction.

At those words, Miguel fought to keep a smirk from his face.

"No, I have opinions, which I have a habit of expressing. I apologise if my intelligence offends you, Josie," Demetria snarled.

"Ah, is that what we're calling smart-asses these days? Intelligent."

Discreetly, Lainey kicked Josie's shin under the table; a wordless warning to stop. Josie winced, reaching down to rub the sore spot. She levelled Lainey with a menacing glare and then aimed a kick at her in retaliation ── but completely missed. Instead of the intended target, the tip of Josie's shoe collided with Eli's knee.

He yelped in surprise.

"Oh, my God," Josie exclaimed abashedly, "I'm so sorry, Eli. I didn't mean to do that."

"It's fine," he gritted out, his cheeks flaming red, "It ── it didn't hurt."

"Are you sure? There was some intended force behind it," Josie murmured, biting her lip apprehensively, "Not for you, obviously."

Eli bobbed his head, looking anywhere but Josie's probing eyes, "It's fine. Honestly."

Unsure of what else to say, Josie opted to squeeze his shoulder sympathetically. The rosy hue in his cheeks deepened drastically, and soon enough Eli's entire face had flushed the colour of a tomato. Josie pretended not to notice ── there was nothing worse than having your embarrassment pointed out.

She returned her attention to the rest of the table, who were currently divulging in a conversation about Yasmine and her brattish counterparts.

"Just because they're hot doesn't mean they're mean," Miguel stated adamantly.

Lainey snorted, "Good one."

"What?" Miguel retorted, seeming to be genuinely puzzled by her sarcasm, "Hot people aren't destined to be evil. It's just a stereotype."

"A stereotype that has been proven abundantly true, based on statistics within our particular demographic," Lainey analysed astutely. Her coffee-coloured eyes flitted to Yasmine's table, and the mere sight of them alone made her lip curl in contempt, "Yasmine is Satan reincarnated. She threw gum in my hair once and it wouldn't come out, so I had to get it all cut off. It was like losing a limb. Her parents refused to pay, too. Asshole-ry is in her blood, dude."

Demetri rolled his eyes, "I don't care if Yasmine is the meanest girl at school. I'd kill all of you just to get her to spit in my face."

With that analogy, Josie retracted the spoon of mashed potatoes from her mouth and placed it back down on the tray, "That is disgusting."

"Yet so morbidly true," added Demetri, gazing longingly across the cafeteria at Yasmine.

"Well, if you don't make a move, you'll never have a shot with her," Miguel said ── which oddly sounded like the kind of nonsensical advise Josie's father would give.

A week. It had been a week, and Johnny Lawrence was already worming his way into Miguel's innocent brain. At this rate, in just under a month's time, Miguel would be Johnny 2.0; a raging alcoholic with an obsession for 80s movies and a knack for spouting obscenities and offensive things.

Maybe this karate-teaching business was something that ought to be reconsidered. Her father wasn't the best role model after all.

"True," said Demetri, "But I'll also never suffer a humiliating rejection. I'm at peace with my depression. The last thing I need to be is suicidal."

"Yasmine makes everyone depressed," Lainey mumbled, poking her peas miserably, "She is a beacon of depression──"

"What are you doing?" Demetri's nervous query interrupted.

Josie had noticed it, too ── Miguel standing up from the table with intent. He was eyeballing Yasmine's table, particularly the doe-eyed brunette perched beside Moon.

"I'm striking first," was his response.

Without heeding Demetri's advice of making peace with his depression, Miguel started to walk toward the Regina George reincarnation, alongside her loyal Gretchen Weiners and Cady Heron inspired-followers. They even had matching personalities ── Moon was Karen, Yasmine was obviously Regina, and Sam was Cady, the blatant misfit who successfully managed to wriggle herself into the clan. Poor Miguel didn't stand a chance.

Josie pinched the bridge of her nose and averted her gaze; her father was likely to fault for the boy's sudden burst of confidence. The Miguel she met a week ago had been far too shy and timid to attempt something like this.

What had her dad been saying to him? Striking first? What kind of bullshit was that?

But miracles did happen ── unfortunately in the shape of Kyler and his goons.

They swooped in before Miguel could reach the table, throwing themselves into the seats next to the Mean Girls. Kyler slung his arm around Sam's shoulders, tugging her into his side, and Brucks straddled the chair beside Moon, giving her a coy smile which went ignored.

When Kyler eventually spotted Miguel ── standing in the middle of the cafeteria like an imbecile ── he raised his hand and wriggled his fingers in a sarcastic wave. Around him, the others chortled, and Miguel immediately span around on the heel of his shoe, practically sprinting back to safety.

The only note of enjoyment Josie sapped from that encounter was spotting the enormous bruise splashed across Kyler's cheekbone. It was healing, a fading smudge of green, though still very noticeable. A mark on his face, a crater on his ego: a win-win for the outcasts.

Thanks, Dad.

"So, how'd it go?" Demetri drawled sardonically.

Miguel's mouth tightened, and he shrugged, sipping on his chocolate milk with a bout of internalised frustration seeping through. It looked like he was going to inhale the straw.

Josie sighed, "I take it the whole striking first thing came from my dad?"

"I thought it would work," Miguel mumbled grumpily. He pushed his tray away, appetite suppressed by his rising anger.

"Listen, take everything he says with a pinch of salt." With further analysis, Josie quickly came to reconsider that, "Maybe a handful."

"Why? Sensei knows what he's talking about."

"Sensei?" Josie repeated incredulously. She puffed out a breath, "Well, Sensei definitely doesn't know what he's talking about. Striking first is for karate only ── it shouldn't bleed out into real life. You'll think you can strike first whenever it pleases you, and that's where the real fights happen. Trust me, I know how my dad's brain works. He doesn't understand boundaries. He thinks about himself before anyone else."

Miguel looked taken aback by her words. He blinked a few times, slightly dazed, and then shrugged, "Maybe you should come to the dojo tonight. You'll see. I think Sensei has a good thing going."

"I mean . . ." Reluctantly, she admitted the truth she'd been putting off since the agreement was first forged, "I did say I'd help him refurbish the place, so I might have to take you up on that offer."

A genuine smile cracked Miguel's frown in half.

If only she could read the future. Maybe then, with knowledge of what it'd become, Josie's shoes would never have breached the shiny entrance to Cobra Kai.

The dojo was, admittedly, very impressive. Other than the holes in the walls with wires dangling precariously from them ── or the gym mats peppered with stains ── it looked pretty good.

Her father had his own office. He was sitting in it, clad in his black karate gi with a matching bandana-strip, filling in some 'very important documents.' In the meantime, he'd given Miguel and Josie an abundance of cleaning tasks to complete before the next dojo inspection, including polishing the string of mirrors lining both walls of the room, and the windows, and then clear out the storage room at the back.

Had she known there was so much to do, Josie probably would have faked another sickness bug and stayed at home.

Alas, she was there now ── unfortunately. She dunked her sponge in the bowl of soapy water and smeared the liquid across the stained front windows. It took a fair amount of scrubbing, but she managed to remove most of the grime. Keeping up appearances was vital for customer intake. If the front windows were grotty, it didn't give off a very good first impression.

"Hey, Sensei, is there any particular way you want me to wash these windows?" Miguel inquired, using a cloth to wipe the soapy sudd residue from the office windows.

Josie heard her father's nonchalant voice echoing from his little room, "Nah, I don't give a shit. Whatever's easiest."

"You could use your forehead," Josie suggested, smirking, "It has a big enough diameter."

"Ha. Ha," Miguel droned, shooting her a disgruntled look over his shoulder, "Have you ever thought about taking up comedy?"

"Can't say I have."

Miguel gave a sharp nod, "Good. Don't."

In the office, Johnny snorted in amusement. Then, his voice sounded again, "Instead of bickering like whiny kids, you two can decide between you whose gonna clean the toilet."

"Not me!" Josie bellowed, throwing down her cleaning rag in protest.

Miguel heaved a sigh, "Rock, paper, scissors?"

"Fine, but I'll win," Josie declared adamantly.

She walked toward him and stuck out her scrunched fist. Miguel's eyes narrowed. He quickly mirrored her stance, balling his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles blanched, and then rolled his shoulders back to make himself appear far taller than he actually was ── it was like a cowboy showdown. Josie could imagine The Good, The Bad and The Ugly playing as she threw her fist down and levelled Miguel with a determined glare.

On three, Josie unfurled her fingers and revealed scissors. Miguel, on the other hand, kept his fist tight to form a rock. Rock easily smashed through scissors. He'd won.

"Dammit," Josie hissed. "First to three?"

"No, I'm good," Miguel said infuriatingly, shutting down her attempts at a re attempt.

With that, Josie grabbed her cleaning rag off the ground and angrily stormed off to the unisex toilet cubicle, not feeling particularly inclined to wait around and see the smug look that was likely dominating Miguel's expression. Cleaning toilets after her father had used them was a one-way ticket to needing necessary sinus fumigation. She'd lived with him for twelve years; she'd already witnessed it first hand. Miguel was lucky.

Hesitantly, she grabbed the bushy toilet brush and plunged it in the dish, swirling it around the pallid puddle of water. The smell wasn't as bad she imagined. It was . . . tolerable. Gross, but manageable.

In need of a distraction, Josie plugged her headphones in her ears and scrolled through her playlist until her current favourite song ( You Know How We Do It by Ice Cube ) popped up. She clicked play. The song was barely playing for a minute when she heard, faintly in the distance, the bell to the dojo's front door jingling.

Fearing her father and Miguel might have abandoned her, Josie shot up from the floor and ran to the front room. Miguel had disappeared somewhere, though thankfully, her father was still present ── but so was someone else.

Daniel LaRusso.

Josie recognised his face from the LaRusso Auto signs. He was a year older than her father, but he looked much younger ── scarily younger, in fact. He'd been blessed with good genetics. And money. She could vaguely recall a video-clip that her mother had showed her of Johnny and Daniel's fight in '84. It had been a grainy copy, the gi-clad figures hardly decipherable through the pixels, but she remembered it well. She remembered LaRusso's kick, and her father collapsing to the ground in a heap of limbs.

Their rivalry was ripe back then and, contrary to popular belief, time had not changed it. They still hated each other. This was a true cowboy showdown. Johnny looked so angry that Josie seriously feared his reddening head was going to explode at any minor provocation.

LaRusso, however, was a little more reserved in his fury. He glared menacingly at her father, "I guess some things never change."

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Johnny asked thinly.

"I heard you beat up a bunch of teenagers in that parking lot out there," Daniel informed, gesturing beyond the dojo windows.

Kyler. Of course, Sam must have told Daniel; she was Kyler's newest conquest. He was bound to have twisted the truth somewhere, making her father out to be a raving lunatic who liked to assault minors. Josie wrung her fingers together nervously.

"Oh, that," Johnny said. His voice rose ever so slightly, almost indiscernibly so, but enough to make it clear to LaRusso that he wasn't welcome, "No. I didn't beat up any teenagers. I kicked the shit out of a bunch of assholes who deserved it."

A nugatory puff of laughter slipped past Daniel's lips, "Wow. Johnny Lawrence calling someone else an asshole. That's rich, man."

"Oh, how the pot calls the kettle black," Josie murmured. She was determined to defend her father from his childhood karate rival.

Daniel's tapered gaze immediately darted to her, as if he'd only just noticed she was standing there. Something flashed in his eyes ── something resembling recognition. But . . . how? He didn't know who she was. He didn't even know her name, and probably didn't have the smallest clue she was his arch nemesis' daughter. Other than having the same blonde hair and toothy grin as Johnny, people always said she looked more like her Mom than her father. So why did LaRusso look so plagued by familiarity?

He pointed at her, brows furrowed, "Who's this?"

"None of your business," Johnny snapped. He stepped on the mat, growing significantly closer to his sworn enemy, "What do you want, LaRusso?"

Daniel chewed his bottom lip impatiently, turning his gaze back to Johnny, "Look, I'm not here to rehash the past. Just stay away from my daughter's friends."

"Your daughter's friends?" Johnny echoed. He gave a satirical laugh, "Yeah, that makes sense. Nice company she keeps."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Josie stepped in line beside her father, looking more like him than ever before, "Samantha's friends were picking on a kid half their size. Are you proud of that ── defending bullies?"

Daniel's expression changed. He looked ashamed, but it quickly vanished, replaced by a dumbfounded frown, "How do you know Sam?"

"Maybe you don't know your daughter as well as you thought," Johnny interjected sharply, "Get your house in order, LaRusso."

"By the looks of it, maybe I should be saying the same thing to you," Daniel remarked, shooting a pointed look at Josie.

So Daniel didn't know she was Johnny's daughter ── though now he seemed to be catching on. It was difficult to spot at first; they didn't look too alike. But they shared similar attitudes, the same passion for enacting chaos. Seeing them stand side by side was enough to recognise the unembellished similarities. Maybe he did know who her mother was. They all went to the same school after all: Johnny, Daniel and Erin. Was LaRusso smart enough to recognise that too?

Maybe he already had.

"Get the hell out of my dojo," Johnny barked viciously, his fists clenching at his sides.

Hackles bared, Daniel jolted forward, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Back room's clean!"

Miguel ran into the front room, blissfully unaware of the altercation unfolding between the two ancient rivals. He seemed to sense the tension in the air, because he swiftly removed his headphones and carefully treaded on the mat, tossing Daniel a wary look as he approached Johnny, "Uh, is there anything else you need me to do, Sensei?

"Sensei?" Daniel repeated incredulously. He frowned, shaking his head in disbelief, "Really?"

Johnny scowled.

"Oh my God, kid, I don't know what he's told you, but you shouldn't believe a word he says or you're gonna end up exactly like him," Daniel told a befuddled Miguel. His gaze then zoned in on Josie like the crosshairs of a sniper rifle, "But it might be too late. Trust me, he is not the kind of person you want to consider a role model."

Josie crossed her arms, "Don't talk about my Dad that way. We aren't going to listen to your advice, Mr LaRusso, so I think it's best if you leave."

"Dad?" Daniel puffed air into his cheeks, pointing accusingly at Johnny, "I knew it, man. That explains a lot."

Johnny ran his tongue over his teeth, teetering closer to the edge of exploding with rage, "I don't want to have to say it again, LaRusso. Get out of my dojo. Now."

"You and I . . ." Daniel's eyes flicked distastefully around the Cobra Kai dojo, "This. We aren't done."

He left the dojo without another word.

There was a collective exhale of breath.

Utterly perplexed, Miguel blinked at the place LaRusso once stood. Josie ran a hand over her face, trying to convince her heart to slow its incessant thrumming. Johnny shook his head and paced across the mat ── but none of them said a word.

It was Josie who eventually broke the silence, "He didn't know you had a daughter. Had me."

"Yeah, he didn't need to know. Nothing in my life concerns that jerk-off," Johnny ranted, running a hand through his fading blonde hair.

Josie chewed on her thumb-nail, "Does he know my Mom?"

"No," Johnny said quickly, "He doesn't."

"Who was that?" Miguel asked, looking between the father-daughter duo curiously.

"My Dad's lifelong karate enemy," Josie replied, "Total ass if you ask me. I understand your visceral hatred for him now, dad."

Johnny nodded, but he didn't say anything, still rattled from the altercation. He wasn't at all worried ── the look of anger on his face was unmistakable. Daniel LaRusso was playing with fire. He had no idea what he was walking into.

Cobra Kai never dies was the motto, right? He was going to have a very hard time trying to take it down.

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AUTHORS NOTE !

i miss johnny's cobra
kai :(