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"So am i going to get the karate pajamas too?"

"Quiet!"

Miguel stood in from of Johnny, the two males being in the dojo Johnny just recently bought.

The night before, the Lawrence man stopped at the store after getting fired from his job. Miguel also happened to be there buying medicine for his grandmother.

Johnny had no intentions of interacting with the boy, fully
planning to eat his stale pizza and go home to break the news to August that he had gotten fired. Instead, he ended up breaking up a fight between Miguel and bunch of high school kids that were picking on him.

Unfortunately, Johnny didn't realize that he couldn't put his hands on teenagers that looked like grown men without facing the consequences and ended up spending the night in jail.

Luckily, his mother's ex husband, Sid, bailed him out and offered him a large sum of money to keep him and August afloat until Johnny found a new job, knowing they couldn't live off of the saved money August's mother kept for him after she died. And after all of this, August still wasn't aware of anything that happened over the course of a few hours.

Miguel had the bright idea to mention to Johnny that he should open up a karate dojo. Johnny fell for it but knew he didn't have the money to afford that as he had ripped up Sid's check and tossed it in the trash.

That left him with one last resort.

August would blow a fuse if he knew his dad threatened to sell his truck just to buy a karate dojo he wasn't even invited to.

"The student only speaks when spoke to. Is that understood?"

"Uh, yes." Miguel stuttered at the look on the older man's face, "Yes, sir?"

"You will always address me as 'sensei', is that understood?"

The Diaz nodded, "Yes, sensei."

"These are pajamas. This is a gi. And you'll get one when you've earned it."

"Does August have one?" Miguel couldn't help but ask.

Johnny stared blankly.

"Sorry..."

"All right, are you ready to begin your training?"

Now more confident, Miguel straightened his back, "Yes, sensei."

The movement was so quick that Miguel wasn't even given the chance to defend himself before Johnny flipped him on his back.

"Lesson one. Strike first." He stared down at the groaning boy, "Never wait for the enemy to attack."

"You could have given me, like, a warning—"

"Quiet!" Johnny shouted, "We do not train to be merciful here. Mercy is for the weak. Here on the street, in competition, a man confronts you, he is the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy. What is the problem, Mr. Diaz?"

Johnny paused his monologue to stare at the teen who took a pump from his inhaler.

Miguel's voice was strained, "There's no problem, sensei. You-You punched me, and I have asthma, so—"

He was, again, cut off by Johnny interrupting him, only this time it was to snatch the inhaler from him and throw it across the room.

"Not anymore." Miguel's brows creased, "We do not allow weakness in this dojo. So, you can leave your asthma and your peanut allergies and all that other made-up bullshit outside, understood?"

"Yes, but those are real medical problems. I was..." Miguel trails off, "Yes, sensei, understood."

Johnny knew this wasn't true as his own son was allergic to pollen.

But Johnny didn't see August as weak, so a little sniffle here and there during the summer time could pass.

How was he supposed to teach Miguel to stand up for himself if he was stopping mid fight to take a pump of air from a tube when there was free oxygen surrounding him?

"Cobra kai isn't just about karate. It's about a way of life." He pointed to the words on the wall, "Take that first lesson. Striking first if the initial step towards victory. Okay? Like, when you're at a party, you see a hot babe."

"Yeah..."

"You don't wait for some other guy to go talk to her first, do you?"

Miguel took an awkward glance around, "I mean, i've never been to a party, so..."

"Big surprise. All right, look. When August came home one night talking about this girl he met at school, I immediately took action and taught him the basics: Strike first. And now he's had a girlfriend since he was in ninth grade, okay? You do the math."

Miguel looked up in thought, not getting far in his equation before the man spoke again, "Striking first is about being aggressive, all right?"

Unknown to Johnny, August did the exact opposite of the advice he had given. But what the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"If you're not aggressive, then you're being a pussy, and you don't want to be a pussy. You wanna have balls."

"Don't you think you're doing a lot of genderizing?"

"...What?"

"Oh, sorry. Don't you think you're doing a lot of genderizing, sensei?"

"No, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, uh, my guidance counselor says that certain words can perpetuate the sexist world view that can trigger—"

"Quiet!"

"From now on, you won't listen to your guidance counselor."

"He's right, you know?" A voice broke up their conversation. Miguel's eyes widen at the sight of August standing near the door way.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"I didn't." He scoffed, "Val and her dad drove by and she called and said she saw you through the window flipping some lanky boy she's never seen before."

Miguel looked down at his arms with pursed lips. He wasn't that lanky.

"And apparently Sid bailed you out of jail last night because you got fired from your job and beat up a bunch of kids."

"I thought you were asleep when he came over."

"Is that why you came home so late?"

"Yeah, no. That's only partially right." Johnny shrugged as if it wasn't that big of a deal, "Why don't you get on the mat and show Miguel what I've taught you."

August's facial expression didn't change, instead, he stared at his dad with a grimace.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Teaching karate?"

Miguel cleared his throat, "Sensei—"

"Sensei?" August could have laughed.

"Come on, you could be like my assistant. Go home and get your old gi and we'll get work."

"Dad, I haven't worn that gi since I was eleven, it's not gonna fit."

"You're my most advance student."

"When I was eleven." He could express it in any bigger way.

"Is this why you wanted to sell my truck?"

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