One week later…
It had been a week since Miguel told me about the dojo. That day, we finally decided to go. The place was in an old, half-abandoned strip mall, with more closed shops than open ones. As we pulled into the parking lot, we saw the sign: Cobra Kai, bold red letters and a coiled cobra in a threatening pose. Classic.
As soon as we entered the place, the first thing we noticed was what was written on the wall, huge and in black:
Strike First. Strike Hard. No Mercy.
—That's a good motto —I told Miguel, pointing at the wall.
—Alright, ladies! Both of you to the front! —Johnny shouted from the center of the dojo.
We lined up in front of him. As we did, I looked around. The place needed upgrades, yeah. Flickering lights, poor ventilation, and a bathroom that didn't even have a door. But the first steps had already been taken.
Johnny saw me distracted and, without warning, tried to take me down.
But I reacted on instinct. I spun quickly and, without thinking, threw a punch straight at his face.
Smack!
I hit him right on the nose.
—Ah, shit! Sorry, man... you caught me off guard —I said while watching him rub his nose. Miguel tried not to laugh but couldn't hold in a chuckle.
Johnny, now pissed, turned and knocked Miguel down out of nowhere, knocking the air out of him.
—Good. Now I have a general idea of what level you're at —Johnny said, returning to the center.
—Oof… he knocked the wind out of me, sensei —Miguel said from the floor, pulling out his inhaler.
Johnny looked at him, confused.
—What the hell is that? You smoking now?
He snatched the inhaler and threw it against the wall.
—I have asthma! It's life or death for me! —Miguel replied, half-desperate.
—Not anymore! Leave all that weakness outside. I don't want any childish stuff in here, got it?
—Yes, sensei! —we shouted in unison.
—Good. Miguel, 100 pushups. Río, 200 squats. Now!
Miguel dropped to the floor, ready to start, but on his first try his arms gave out and he collapsed.
I was on number ten when we heard the door open.
—What do you want, fatty? Lose some gut and throw a few kicks? —Johnny said without even looking, while punching the stomach of the person who had just walked in.
—No thanks… I'm the health inspector. I'm here to see if you're ready to open your business —the guy replied seriously, looking around with a clipboard.
—Inspector of what?
—Health. You need my approval if you want to open legally. I'm leaving this sheet with the codes you have to follow —he said, handing over the list before leaving.
Johnny watched him go and then looked down at the paper.
—Damn it… looks like if I don't fix the bathroom, I can't open —he grumbled.
I stepped closer and took a look.
—Let's see… new lights, protected outlets, better ventilation… this is two or three days' work if we're lucky.
—You know anything about this? —Johnny asked, with a hopeful look.
—I can help with the electrical stuff, but don't ask me to clean bathrooms or pick up crap. I just need money to buy what we need.
—How much you want?
He didn't even think about it.
—Wow… I thought you'd cry about the money —I said—. Give me a thousand. That covers the essentials and maybe a little extra.
—A thousand!? —Miguel exclaimed from the floor, sweating like he'd just run a marathon.
Johnny looked at him and changed the plan in a second.
—Change of strategy: Miguel, time to clean. Here's a rag, clean the windows. Río, go buy what we need. He handed me the bills without hesitation.
The magic of the universe
A trip to Home Depot later…
New lights, a wall-mounted air conditioner, some decent speakers for class ambiance, wiring, basic tools, and even a fire extinguisher in case the inspector came back. Nothing fancy, just functional. Everything ready to install the next day.
On the way back, I picked up dinner while Miguel and Johnny kept cleaning the dojo. I grabbed fried chicken, a Coke for Miguel, and a couple of cold beers for the sensei.
When I arrived, the dojo already looked different. The windows were clean, the floor shined, and it even smelled less like a dungeon.
—Sensei, Miguel! I brought dinner. Let's eat —I shouted as I walked in.
—Finally! I was starving —Miguel said, coming out of the bathroom, hair soaked.
Johnny appeared from the office with a "what'd you bring?" look.
—Fried chicken and some beers —I replied, tossing him a can—. To celebrate your dojo.
—Alright, kid… I'm starting to like you more —Johnny said, cracking it open and taking a big sip.
We sat on the floor, ate in silence for a bit, relaxed. Afterward, we worked a little more, adjusting details, tuning lights, and connecting the new equipment.
That night, the dojo wasn't just a renovated old spot. It felt like the start of something.
One week later…
We had finished the dojo days ago, but hadn't been able to train again. And to make things worse, it was Monday. Classes started again.
Monday – 8:00 AM – Outside the apartments
—Come on, Miguel, we're gonna be late! —I shouted from my bike, helmet in hand.
—I'm coming, I'm coming! —Miguel replied from above, rushing down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder.
I handed him the helmet and he clumsily climbed on the back.
—I'm warning you again, man —I said starting the bike—: don't cling to me or hug me. If you do, I'll drop you right here and you'll walk the rest of the way.
—Relax, I'm not like that —he said, smiling while adjusting his helmet.
—You better not be. Let's go —I said as I twisted the throttle and the bike roared off toward school.
We got there in fifteen minutes. The place was packed. Too much noise for my taste. As soon as I got off the bike, I put in my earbuds, started a random playlist from my phone, and braced myself to survive the day.
—Ready, Miguel?
—Ready, Río —he said, giving me a high five.
The morning went by calmly. The classes weren't as hard as I imagined. The worst part was the long readings, the ones where you had to underline or write entire paragraphs. The rest went by fast.
When lunchtime came… well, if you ask me, total crap. The only redeeming part: the chocolate milk.
I walked into the cafeteria, grabbed my tray and scanned for Miguel. I saw him standing, turning his head like he was looking for a map of free tables. I walked over.
—What's up, man? All full?
—Looks like it… —he said, glancing around. Suddenly, he pointed—. Look at that table, only two people. Let's go.
We approached.
—Hi, can we sit here? —Miguel asked politely.
—I don't think so, buddy —one of the guys sitting said—. This table's for the populars and hot girls only. You know… jungle rules.
Miguel almost turned around.
—You serious, Miguel? Sit down —I said without hesitation, setting my tray on the table.
—I'm Río —I said, sitting down and looking him straight in the eye.
—And I'm Miguel —he said, a bit more confidently, sitting beside me.
The other guy looked at us, somewhere between confused and nervous.
—I'm Dimitri. And the guy next to me is Eli… he doesn't talk much —he added, pointing to his buddy, who just looked down and kept eating.
—So? How's the hierarchy around here? —I asked, looking at Dimitri while sipping my chocolate milk.
—Well… over in that corner are the athletes. The populars. Over there, the wannabe celebs just because they have lots of followers —Dimitri began explaining, pointing discreetly—. And over there…
He suddenly went quiet. A group of girls walked past us. They floated when they walked, laughing among themselves. Dimitri immediately looked down.
—What happened there, man? —I asked, confused by his reaction.
—They… they're the rich girls group. Their dads give them everything. They're like the queens of the school —he said quietly, while Eli looked up and stared at them for a second.
I leaned toward him, smiling.
—I saw that, Eli. Which one do you like?
Eli froze, confused, like he didn't know whether to deny it or run away. He said nothing.
—And you don't talk to them? —Miguel asked, also curious.
—Oh, sure… once everyone leaves the cafeteria, they come over, kiss us, invite us to their yachts, and give us piano lessons —Dimitri said sarcastically.
I burst out laughing.
—Oh no, they're looking at us! —Eli said, quickly lowering his gaze like he was scared.
—Relax, man. They're not gonna do anything —I told him calmly, turning my head to see what he meant.
—They're probably talking about my lip —he murmured, covering his mouth with his hand.
—I'm going to talk to them —Miguel said suddenly, determined.
—That's it, Miguel! Remember what sensei said: Strike First —I told him with a smile, turning my chair to get a better view of the show.
Miguel walked confidently toward the girls' table. He was just about to reach them when suddenly two guys came out of nowhere and cut him off. One fat, the other Asian. I recognized them instantly.
—The bastards from the store… —I muttered.
Miguel froze, turned around, and came back defeated. I couldn't help but let out the loudest laugh I'd had in days.
—Oh my god! You almost had it, Miguel —I said, patting his back as he sat down, frustrated.
—What's so funny? —I heard behind me.
I turned around. It was the Asian kid. Not a happy face. I recognized him immediately.
—I'm laughing because here you act like a tough guy —I said, calmly standing up—, but out there… out there a bum kicked your ass.
I started walking toward his table, unhurried. The girls were watching him. He tried to hold my gaze.
—Or doesn't that black eye remind you of the beating you and your buddies got?
Silence.
—What's he talking about, Kyler? —asked one of the girls, the one with curly hair.
—Yeah, Kyler, tell them —I jumped in—. Tell them how you used to beat up a kid half your size with your little friends. And how some guy who didn't even know your name wrecked you in front of the whole store.
I stopped right in front of him. Kyler tried to stand, but I placed a firm hand on his shoulder and forced him back down.
—Stay there. You're not my fight… you're not worth breaking my hand over —I said, lowering my tone.
I turned, walked back to my table, and sat with the guys like nothing had happened. I couldn't stop laughing.
—And this is your first day? —Dimitri asked, stunned.
—Yeah —I replied, taking another sip of chocolate milk—. Pretty entertaining.
—Gotta make a good first impression, right? —I said with a smile.
Luckily, the school day finally came to an end. In the last period, history, the four of us were together. The class dragged on, but our minds were already elsewhere. When the bell rang, we walked toward the school's main entrance.
—Want me to take you to the dojo? —I asked Miguel as we got closer to the doors.
—Go ahead. I have to stop by the bookstore, but I'll be there in an hour —he replied.
—Alright. See you there then —I told him.
I turned to the others.
—Well, guys, I gotta go. Catch you later.
I opened my backpack, pulled out a black leather jacket and put it on.
—What, do you have a motorcycle or what? —asked Dimitri when he saw how I was getting dressed.
—Of course. My baby is out there —I said, pointing toward the parking lot, where my Ducati shone under the sun.
I said goodbye with a gesture and crossed the campus calmly, knowing they were watching me.
—He looks like a rockstar —said Eli, without taking his eyes off me.
—You're right —Dimitri nodded.
Cobra Kai Dojo – 4:05 PM
The roar of the motorcycle echoed in the empty parking lot. I turned off the engine and calmly took off my helmet. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, bathing the dojo entrance in golden light. No one was in sight. Total silence. Only the distant hum of the city and the creaking of my boots as I stepped down.
I pushed the metal door open and walked in.
The interior was clean, organized. The new lights shone, speakers hung in the corners. The air conditioning barely murmured. The place didn't feel like before — now it really felt like a place to train.
Johnny was facing away, sweeping near the mirrors at the back. He hadn't heard me come in.
—What's up, sensei? —I said, hanging my helmet on a hook.
Johnny turned and nodded.
—You're early.
—Miguel went to the bookstore, he said he'd get here later —I replied, walking toward the center of the tatami.
Johnny put the broom aside and crossed his arms.
—How was your first day?
—Not bad. Made some friends, made a couple of idiots nervous, and laughed a lot at lunch. Pretty productive, I'd say.
Johnny let out a small chuckle, more nasal than anything.
—You kind of remind me of myself in high school —he said, walking to the wooden bench where there was a towel and a water bottle—. Or I think so… with less chest hair.
I laughed lightly.
—And you look more like that bum who beat the crap out of some cowards in a store.
Johnny gave me a half-smile.
—Yeah? You liked that?
—Best thing I've seen in months. A direct kick to the ego of each of those idiots.
—Well —Johnny said, taking a drink of water—, get ready. Because today you're going to sweat twice as much. I've got something prepared.
—Great. Just what I needed —I said as I started warming up.
Johnny brought out a plastic dummy, the human-shaped kind, to train hits. While he placed it in the center of the dojo, I kept stretching my legs and loosening up my shoulders.
About thirty minutes later, a voice came from the entrance.
—I'm here, sensei! —Miguel shouted, breathless.
—Good, up front —Johnny ordered without wasting time.
We immediately lined up in front of the dummy.
—From now on, this is your number one enemy —Johnny said, hugging the dummy—. I don't want soft punches, no girly taps. I want you to hit it like you actually want to smash the face of someone you hate. Picture them —he said, delivering a sharp punch to the dummy's chest—. Think of the person who pissed you off the most. Who made you feel like crap. And get that out of you.
Johnny pointed at Miguel.
—You first.
Just before Miguel could start, Johnny's phone rang.
—Hold on a second. You guys keep going —he said as he walked away to answer it.
I turned to Miguel.
—Come on, man. Hit it —I said.
Miguel threw a couple of punches… weak ones. Like he was afraid of breaking a nail.
—Not like that. With guts —I said, stepping closer—. First, plant your feet. Now adjust your thumbs, like this. If you keep hitting like that, you'll break them.
I adjusted his arms.
—Good. Now I want you to imagine the face of someone you hate. Tell me. Who is it?
—The stupid guy from the cafeteria —Miguel said, with restrained anger.
—Ahhh… Kyler. You don't like Kyler. But hey, you two could still be best friends, right? —I said sarcastically.
Miguel clenched his teeth and started hitting harder.
—But you know, Miguel… I know why you went to that table. You liked that girl, didn't you? Sam.
Miguel glanced at me, uncomfortable. Then he focused back on the dummy and punched it harder.
—Look at Kyler. He's going after her, did you know that? He's got more ground. So tell me, what are you going to do about it?
I walked away, leaving him there, hitting harder, channeling everything. Meanwhile, I headed to an old punching bag hanging in a corner and started working my kicks. It had its years, but it still did the job.
A few minutes passed. Johnny came back, putting his phone in his pocket.
—He looks pretty motivated… What did you say to him?
—The usual. You know the power a woman can have over a man —I replied, without stopping my kicks.
Johnny let out a dry laugh and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Miguel hit the dummy with all his rage.
After a few more hours of training, rotating between the dummy and the bags, we called it a day. We started wiping the sweat off the tatami, organizing everything. We were exhausted, but satisfied.
It was just after nine when the dojo door opened.
—We're closed. Come back tomorrow morning —I said without turning around, while wiping the floor.
When I didn't hear a response, I turned toward the entrance. And there he was.
Daniel LaRusso.
—Ah, you're the guy from the commercials —I said, half-joking—. What can we do for you?
Daniel didn't reply right away. He looked around the place attentively, until he finally asked:
—Who's in charge of the dojo?
—Sensei, someone's looking for you —I shouted from where I was.
—Ryo! What did I say about yelling? —Johnny called from the other side.
—That I should only yell when I'm on the tatami… or when I'm dying —I replied, without missing a beat.
—Good —Johnny said, now approaching—. And you, what do you want here?
Daniel crossed his arms.
—Bringing Cobra Kai back again, Johnny?
—Yeah. Got a problem with that? —Johnny replied, not blinking.
—It'll be a problem if you keep up your old habits of hitting kids smaller than you —Daniel said, now with a firm tone.
—What are you talking about, LaRusso? —Johnny asked, frowning.
—Don't pretend. I know you hit some students. They're friends of my daughter.
—Those brats? Of course I did. They deserved it —Johnny said, not a hint of regret.
Daniel took a step closer.
—Listen, Johnny. Stay away from those kids. They're Sam's friends. And you better not go near her.
Johnny raised his eyebrows.
—Ah, I see… your daughter's like them, huh?
—What are you talking about? They're good kids —Daniel said, clearly offended.
—Not that good —I said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.
Daniel looked straight at me.
—What do you mean?
I stood up slowly.
—Your "good kids" were bullying someone. Picking on a kid younger than them. And the worst part? They attack in a group. And that, to me, is just cowardly.
I stared at him.
—I don't know what your problem with Johnny is, but don't come here yelling at the sensei about problems where you weren't told the truth and you don't even know what really happened.
Daniel took a deep breath, like holding himself back.
—Listen, kid. This place shouldn't exist. Leave when you get the chance. There are better places for you.
—Hey! Don't talk crap about my dojo —Johnny shouted, stepping forward.
—I don't have time for this —Daniel said, ignoring everything, before turning and walking away, typing something on his phone as he went down the sidewalk.
Silence lingered for a few seconds.
Johnny shook his head.
—Same old LaRusso…
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English not my first language I'm using help with the traduction