Chapter One: Not the Sensei he Was
…
"Fear does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!" the class roared in unison.
"Pain does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!"
"Defeat does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!"
John Kreese stumbled along the streets of North Hollywood, California, a broken, unshaven, and tired man.
The most painful part of the memories from just a year prior was that they still seemed so long ago.
The trophies. The glory.
The fighters, the Cobra Kais, the boys. The boys.
The crowd was cheering at the top of their lungs. Hundreds of people roaring as Daniel sparred Johnny for the title of All Valley Under 18 Champion.
With a tremendous crash Daniel clattered to the ground from a sneaky and rule violating jab to his jaw. Johnny Lawrence kiai'd like a lion and struck with the speed and power of a Cobra Kai.
They were killers. Kreese could still hear his class roar with every strike like it was yesterday.
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
Every karate tournament in Southern California feared Cobra Kai with a terror unlike any other.
Cobra Kai karate taught young men between the ages of twelve and seventeen how to be ferocious, tough, and merciless.
Unfortunately for John Kreese, bad news and disappointment on an answering machine, and overduebills, awaited him inside his dilapidated karate dojo.
But at least it was still a dojo.
…
June 2018
…
Now Lankershim's Cobra Kai dojo was a candle shop that also sold flowers. A flower shop run by a smiling woman wearing Pride Month t-shirts.
Decades later, John Kreese was largely the same man.
But he was older, much older.
Kreese sighed.
A flower shop employee spoke to Kreese.
"Hey! We've got a four for one special ending just next week."
If only John Kreese had the money or use for flowers these days.
Kreese merely walked past him, and slipped away into the passing crowd, just another homeless man in Los Angeles.
Moments later, a big rock, almost as large as a well sized brick, was thrown quickly through the windows of the flower shop that replaced Lankershim Boulevard's old premier Cobra Kai karate dojo from the 1980s.
A smirking John Kreese walked away, others shocked, not knowing where the rock came from, at least he'd have one happy memory from a very terrible month.
…
John Kreese found a park bench to sleep on that night.
"Hey."
A police officer tapped his nightstick on Kreese's chest.
"You gonna move or do I have to book you tonight? The station's holding cell is even less fun than this bench I promise you bud."
Kreese quietly shook his head and even nodded in respect to the officer. He merely tipped his cap and watched Kreese trudge off into the night. He could try to apply for a room at his old homeless center. But he'd picked one fight too many.
He walked around a bit aimlessly, and remembered what tiny Johnny Lawrence was like as a child.
A crying and sniveling boy when he was a blue belt. He wasn't a champion yet, he wasn't tough.
And now?
Kreese sat quietly on a small trash can, watching a tram pass through downtown Los Angeles aimlessly.
How could he have loved karate so dearly? To have the sport pass by him so quickly?
Kreese took out his wallet, still holding an expired driver's license from 1988, and checked all the money he had.
Forty two dollars in cash. A client of his, the last and only real one he'd had in years, had hired him for a few hundreds bucks a month. And now he was gone. After freelance construction work, he had actually had to beat his old boss to bits just to collect his wages, and what little they were combined with what he could scrounge and save up amounted to a total of two hundred and sixty four dollars and fifty four cents.
His entire life, he barely had enough in cash to afford a night or two at a local motel and a couple meals.
He went to a nearby train station and found that all his money would only get him as far as Indiana. The Chicago bus ride specifically, it was the first thing in the morning, was the cheapest and fastest option, and was offered to seniors at around two hundred and twenty three dollars.
Just enough.
Kreese shrugged. Anywhere but Los Angeles.
He had no reason to stay in the city anymore. No reason but very painful memories, estranged friends, and one very unhappy client, the last person to possibly ever pay John Kreese a semi-decent wage in cash.
Kreese was escorted out of the train station though, he didn't have the nicest look to him and it was closing quickly.
At one A'M, Kreese was able to find a quiet, and luckily empty dumpster to sleep behind in an alleyway where no one was around, Kreese had gotten adept after years of this to avoid ones that smelled too badly. And then he rested.
The next day, he'd go out east and try to find work or something.
Cars drove past as he closed his eyes.
He wanted to go anywhere, do anything, but stay in the Valley.
…
Daniel LaRusso however, did not live a miserable life without any food, money, or shelter of any kind.
He woke up in a luxurious home in Encino, with a beautiful wife sleeping next to his side in his king size bed, two children, and an entire award winning car dealership to his name.
His karate trophies were tucked away in his home dojo, which was oddly not in storage anymore.
Daniel woke up, made some coffee listening to the morning news on his iPhone, and then went to work.
His wife, Amanda, was helping him in the office, typing on the computer while Daniel quietly watched his morning customers enter the dealership.
"Well, would you look at that."
Daniel turned around and gazed at his wife.
"Lucas reapplied to be an intern." Amanda clicked her mouse.
Daniel shrugged. "I'll deal with it later."
Amanda looked at Daniel somewhat reproachfully. "You're gonna reject a 15 year old over a karate tournament?" she asked, half believing her own words.
"There's." Daniel sighed. "A lot more to it than that."
"I don't think there is." Amanda shrugged. "So he picked a different karate teacher than you. He still won last week."
"I promise you, if it was that simple, I'd have Luke back here working again."
"Honey." Amanda cleared her throat. "He was one of the best employees we had here in a while. He was diligent, proactive, smart, great customer service, always kind. I wish some of the adult employees were as mature as him sometimes."
Daniel's cousin Louie and a fellow LaRusso auto employee Anoush both were laughing at a bawdy internet meme on Louie's screen.
Amanda grimaced for a second. "I miss him more and more by the day."
"It's not just a karate tournament."
"Then what is it?" asked Amanda. "Honestly you never told me nor the kids why suddenly we couldn't talk to him."
Daniel opened his mouth but Amanda interrupted calmly.
"The full details."
"It's honestly not something I'd be able to forgive."
"He's fifteen," Amanda repeated. "What did he do?"
"He um." Daniel sighed.
Daniel grumbled before he left the office. "I'll take care of it later I promise, just, don't accept the application."
"Sure thing honey," Amanda muttered quietly.
The rest of the day, Daniel LaRusso mostly used karate as a gimmick to sell more cars.
Louie told mostly fake stories about Daniel using karate to get him out of sticky situations at bars, and how he even went to the All Valley Karate tournament just the month prior.
It was starting to be a very hot summer day, and the floor was looking very dirty.
Daniel noted how the lobby floor of LaRusso auto wasn't as shiny as he wanted it to.
The employee on duty was looking at his phone more often than he should've been. Even absurdly wealthy teenagers worked harder.
Daniel sighed and continued with his day.
He needed to visit an old friend.
…
Mr. Miyagi was buried in a very large cemetery near Orange County.
Daniel LaRusso refreshed the flowers near Mr. Miyagi's grave.
"Hey there."
Daniel did not receive a response. Not even from the wind.
"You always told me once about forgiveness. But you also told me something else, about."
Daniel sighed.
"About John Kreese."
"Eeeeyaaughh!"
John Kreese was trying to punch Mr. Miyagi through the mouth. He instead shattered his fist against the glass pane of a car window.
Instead of even knocking Kreese out for trying to hurt him, Mr. Miyagi instead honked him on the nose, and tossed him over while he was on his knees. Then he winked at Daniel.
His All Valley trophy still in his hand, Daniel limped while speaking to Miyagi.
"You could've killed him couldn't you?"
"Hai." Miyagi responded calmly.
"Well why didn't you then?"
"Because Daniel-san, for person with no forgiveness in heart, living even worse punishment than death." Miyagi said with a nod.
Daniel frowned.
"I had my first karate student in years. Someone who seemed to really enjoy and appreciate your lessons."
Daniel sighed.
"And he betrayed my trust. He knew John Kreese was a terrible person, among the worst around. And he wanted me to forgive him, to trust he was doing the right thing."
Daniel sighed, rubbing his eye.
"And I just feel lost. What am I gonna do with this kid?"
He shook his head.
"I know, I wasn't the easiest growing up. But how could someone seek my forgiveness after they knew who Kreese was and then lied to me about it?"
Daniel bowed his head from his kneeling position in front of Miyagi's grave.
When he returned to his car. He felt something strange looking back at his tombstone.
Daniel remembered when Miyagi had rehealed his bonsai, Miyagi told Daniel to do karate.
"His own way."
…
Cobra Kai OST: Bonsai Lessons
…
Daniel remembered his mother coming to this exact same home decades prior.
His mom had a car so beat up that he and she had to push it to take him and Ali Mills on a date to Golf 'N Stuff back in the 1980s.
He knocked on the door of the Mills Manor, the same house he used to pick up Ali from when he just moved to LA from New Jersey. Daniel even remember what Ali was like, and the day at the country club when he spilled spaghetti all over himself.
A much older father of Ali Mills answered the door, fixing his glasses.
"Oh hey Daniel." the two men shook hands. "Good to see you again. It's been a while, how can I help you?"
"I was hoping to talk to Lucas?"
"Oh sure. He's up in his room!" he turned. "Luke!"
He called up again.
"Luuuuke!"
Lucas was not the spitting image of his mother, Ali Mills at all, but rather a fair skinned, dark haired teenager with light blue eyes and a very deep voice.
"Yeah?" he leaned on the doorway, his grandfather standing just behind him.
"Can we talk?" Daniel asked with a small smile.
Lucas clearly didn't want to, but his grandfather nodded.
"Yeah." he sighed.
Lucas and Daniel sat in the large backyard of the Mills' home, watching a golden retriever running around.
They sat largely in silence for a moment, just looking at Lucas' pool.
"I have to admit. I thought you'd be happier after winning the forty ninth All Valley."
"You sure weren't happy for me."
Daniel was going to respond but then he paused.
Lucas shook his head, fixing a grey t-shirt. "How could you shut me out like that?"
"You knew what John Kreese was."
"You never told me everything about him."
"Because you weren't supposed to know," Daniel muttered. "Mr. Miyagi could forgive just about anyone. But John Kreese was one person he never let out of his sight."
Lucas scoffed. "But none of that was my fault."
"I know," Daniel said. "Which is why it pained me more than anything to have to give you the cold shoulder."
Lucas rolled his eyes.
"I know you're not a cruel person. I've only known you for a year, but you never gave me the impression you genuinely wanted to harm someone else."
Daniel fixed his spot on the lawn chair next to Lucas.
"You've got Ali's heart. That's for sure."
Lucas nodded a bit.
"You're just a very competitive person, and there's nothing wrong with that."
"Sure felt there was something wrong with it when I trained with you. It's like nothing made sense, I understood the karate techniques. But there was always some hidden meaning, some metaphor." Lucas' face twisted into a bit of anger. "Like I was messed up for wanting to compete."
"Mr. Miyagi always was against competing for sport." Daniel raised a finger. "But what he was truly against. Was karate being taught the wrong way, John Kreese, taught karate the wrong way."
Lucas merely listened in silence.
"Someone used to bully me pretty hard in highschool. But he was never that bad of a person all said and done. But his Sensei? Was the worst there is."
Daniel explained. "Unpredictable."
John Kreese swept a student off his legs in class for not paying attention, faking a massive punch to the nose.
"Violent."
John Kreese taught a teenage Bobby Brown to finish his opponent by striking his shoulder blade.
"And, yes. Genuinely cruel."
He choked a teenage Johnny Lawrence in the parking lot next to the All Valley arena for losing to Daniel minutes prior.
Daniel looked at Lucas. "What I mean to say is that I'm sure he was a fine Sensei to you. But he was dangerous."
"He could've changed."
"People like him don't change Lucas. Mr. Miyagi would've wanted me to never let you near that man."
Daniel stood up. "I'm sorry for everything that happened between us. But I promise you I'll forgive you entirely, as soon as you promise to never go near him again."
Lucas frowned, thinking to himself for a second.
"I know you don't like Miyagi-Do's philosophy. I know you barely had the patience for anything but the actual karate. But until I have that promise, I can't begin to trust you again. Even if you're just a kid."
Daniel and Lucas exchanged a small nod, and then he left his house.
…
I had to hide how badly I wanted to see Mr. LaRusso.
I had come to conclusion that Kreese was evil, he made bad people worse, or he allowed them to use their karate for whatever they wanted. Be it bullying, harassment, or just regular law breaking.
People like Kyler and for a long time, Tory, were enabled to create violence against people they didn't like. To hurt them, to attack them or mess with them just because. Johnny Lawrence was guilty of this in 1980s, and it showed with Tory's behavior during the second and third seasons of the show.
That was Kreese at his most Kreese-ness. I had seen a man tormented by war, who unlike Mr. Miyagi, didn't just forgive himself and others for what happened:
He blamed them.
John Kreese made it clear that at much as his philosophy could make me incredible strong, mentally, physically, and agility wise, in a fight or elsewhere in life. He had no forgiveness in him, mercy and forgiveness was as alien to him as anything else. I wouldn't be his student, someone to cultivate and respect until they could be better than you one day.
Since the day I met him, Kreese had made it clear I was just his instrument of revenge against LaRusso, to serve as a fix for the mistakes he himself made.
It was evident, with the lies I told myself and Daniel LaRusso, the pain I was hiding from the bruises and blood striking bricks and old boards, doing knuckle pushups on concrete, and learning the Way of the Fist.
Luckily I had realized sooner rather than later that the lines Johnny gave to his old class in Season 3 were real.
"Wanna stick with Kreese? Go ahead." said Johnny to a class who believed they'd failed him in the hallways of his old highschool. "Don't say I didn't warn you when your life ends up in the shitter."
Until now, my knowledge of the show had only served for my own personal gain. For my own power, for taking advantage of others, even those like John Kreese. I was done with that.
I was ready to embrace my flaws, and let go of my hatred. Mostly towards myself, towards a perfectionist, the person who flew in from Denver last year to make the Valley my kingdom. Well no more.
Johnny's assessment of Kreese was more than fair. Eli's hatred towards Demetri, his best friend since middle school was manipulated by Kreese, he was using his anger to turn him into someone he wasn't deep down. Towards someone who had no forgiveness in his heart, not even a little.
Someone like Kreese himself.
I was done with Cobra Kai, I felt so much shame that I think the only way I could forgive myself, was by studying the martial art that focused on harmony with everything around you:
Miyagi-Do karate.
...
John Kreese was more than ready to leave LA.
But he had one last thing to do.
He used the last bit of money he had to buy a train ticket, but before that he'd use the tiny fraction of cash he had left over to smoke a nice cigar, and reminisce.
Kreese walked into a small strip mall in Reseda that night just a mere couple of hours before he boarded his train to depart LA for good.
He paid a tubby Latino man working at a liquor store the last few dollars Lucas Schwarber had given to him to buy a cigar, and a lighter.
When he walked out, he began to smoke it looking over the parking lot.
He remembered Johnny Lawrence losing decades prior.
"What did you say?" a young middle aged John Kreese asked.
"I said I did my best!" roared Johnny, waving his second place trophy upwards.
"You're nothing, you lost, you're a loser!" Kreese countered, yelling back at him.
Johnny shook his head. "No, you're the loser man!"
"Oh I'm the loser huh?"
"Yeah."
Kreese swiped and broke Johnny's trophy in the blink of an eye, wood and bronze and all with his bare hands, throwing it aside. "Now who's the loser?" he challenged.
"You know you're really sick man!" A seventeen year old Johnny Lawrence said loudly, having no idea how his Sensei could treat him this way.
After several protests, the boys from Cobra Kai couldn't stop their Sensei.
He was choking Johnny Lawrence out like he was some Vietcong in a jungle who tried to kill him, not a teenager who just lost a karate tournament.
"How does second place feel now huh?"
"You're gonna kill him!" Bobby Brown's desperate pleas repeated themselves in Kreese's mind decades later. "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
Kreese kept smoking his cigar in silence.
The memory didn't remotely shake him. He barely even seemed to regret it when a group of highschool boys walked past.
He had no idea Johnny was enjoying a nice meal at home at his apartment with his son instead of eating his dinner from a strip mall liquor store.
One of them blew their vape in Kreese's direction before they walked into the liquor store. The old man just found it amusing, almost nodding as he chuckled quietly.
The leader of the group of boys was trying to buy beer from the man Kreese had just bought a cigar from.
He was a Korean teen followed by a redhead, a frizzy fat boy, and another pal of his.
"Lemme get a packet or Marlboros too bro." the frizzy fat boy put a pack of beers on the counter.
"Damn Brucks, feeling confident today are we?" asked his redheaded friend.
"You know it."
The man at the register could tell how fake his ID was.
"Are you sure about this," he asked. "Kyler?"
"Yeah my dude, I'm sure." he smiled widely.
A skinny Latino boy walked over, speaking in Spanish to get help buying something for his grandmother.
"Me puedes ayudar con algo? Necesito un poco de Pepto Bismol para mi abuela."
"Claro hermano. Este torpe no entiende como comparse un ID propio. Pija chiquita." he glanced between Kyler and the boy he was chuckling with, putting a bottle of Pepto Bismol a smiling Miguel quickly paid for on the counter.
Kyler didn't seem to appreciate this at all, and started shoving him outside of the store. The man behind the register didn't blink an eye. Seeing how the man behind the counter didn't question Miguel's order for even half a second, and even appeared to be making fun of him for, he took out that frustration on Miguel in seconds.
A commotion started, one that resulted in Kyler dumping Pepto Bismol all over him outside the liquor store.
Kreese didn't care at all, he kept smoking his cigar as if he was watching some daytime TV boredly.
The boys laughed and kept shoving him around, until eventually he was punched right in the gut.
"That's brute Ky!" the fat one said.
Kreese kept watching the scene calmly, continuing to smoke his cigar in silence.
The Latino boy caught his breath. "Man what the hell?"
"Freaking idiot!" Kyler picked him up by his shoulders. "You blow up my spot. You get taught!"
"Nice Ky! Show him who's boss!" another one of his friends said.
Kreese found it entertaining, he didn't even feel bad for him for a second, and then watched him get to his feet.
Out of desperation or rage, he tried tackling Kyler to the ground. It failed completely and the beating that ensued was equally one sided, but it greatly amused Kreese. He even seemed to remember fighting bullies behind the old diner he used to work at, fighting with just his wits and a trash can lid.
Except unlike Kreese, Miguel wasn't winning.
Kreese sighed, having seen enough. If he'd go home, he'd at least try to dish out No Mercy one last time.
"Alright alright alright. That's more than enough."
Everyone froze, Kyler's redheaded friend looked around. "Man what?" he said stupidly.
Kreese picked up the kid quietly. "Way to show some guts. What's your name?"
"Miguel." he coughed, Pepto Bismol still in his hair. "Just trying to get some medicine for my grandma."
Appreciating how he treated the elderly, being an older man himself, Kreese didn't feel pity for Miguel. Rather respected the lengths he was willing to go just to help her. If anything, it at least showed courage to fight when completely outmatched.
"Yo man this ain't none of your business." Kyler raised his eyebrows.
"Word." the fat kid 'Brucks' took a hit off the redhead's vape.
Kreese raised his eyebrows, turning slightly. "Look I enjoy dishing out a beating as much as the next guy. It's getting late, I've got a bus to catch. Why don't you all leave?"
"Or what?" asked Kyler.
He had no idea what sort of tree he was barking up, Kreese had held his temper before with grown adults. Why not do the same with a pack of teenage boys?
The retired Special Forces captain chuckled to himself.
No Mercy, that's why.
Kreese just realized what he was doing.
He wanted to properly beat someone down before he could leave the Valley all but consequence free in just a couple of hours. He'd be on a bus across the entire country by this time tomorrow.
"Or else."
Kyler and his friends acted scared, laughing at him.
"Come on." Kyler laughed. "Hit me with your best shot old man."
"Knock him over with your walker gramps!" taunted another one of Kyler's friends.
Kreese nodded slowly, looking away.
…
Cobra Kai OST: Strike First
…
Without warning or mercy, Kreese put Kyler into a wrist lock.
He gasped in pain, and then Kreese loudly cracked every bone in Kyler's wrist with a POP.
"There's my best shot. Never start a fight you can't finish," he growled with a grin.
Then Kreese put out his still lit cigar right on the skin of Kyler's cheek right beneath his eye, he roared in pain.
Kreese tossed Kyler aside and his three friends didn't know how to react.
Kyler was all but crying in pain from the snapped wrist he had, and Kyler roared orders wincing.
"Get 'im Brucks please!" he screamed.
"I got you man!"
Brucks was kicked right in the knee, Miguel could not believe his eyes.
A senior citizen was moving like some sort of ninja.
Kreese had no flexibility and far less physical strength than all three boys he was fighting.
But he had lived on the streets for decades, and served in Special Forces in Vietnam.
He could back kick, back fist, punch, pull. He was merciless, cold, and always struck first.
The redhead in Kyler's group took a knee directly to the groin as soon as he tried grabbing Kreese, the last one was headbutted to the ground.
Brucks attempted to punch Kreese with his back turned only to receive a back kick to the sternum for his troubles.
The boys couldn't touch him, Kreese could win the fight with his eyes closed.
He used the environment to his advantage, dragged Brucks by his face across a cement wall with a knee directly to his liver to finish him off.
When Kyler, blind with rage at having his wrist broken and humiliated, ran at Kreese to punch or grab him. Anything. He was thrown over Kreese's knee.
Kreese employed a classic karate hip throw and slammed Kyler onto the pavement as hard as he could.
He used another throw to throw the last two boys so hard together their foreheads collided at full speed.
John Kreese fought dirty, but he was facing four younger and stronger opponents, he had to use his techniques, use his environment, and properly leave a last reminder to the Valley he was sick of it.
Kreese picked up his cigar, twisting his shoe on the snapped wrist of Kyler.
He yelled in pain at the top of his lungs and then Kreese spat in front of him.
"Let this be a lesson. For the rest of your life. You start a fight, make sure you finish it."
The other boys were all bruised and beaten, shocked, rolling around on the floor in agony or simply knocked clean out. There was No Mercy left in John Kreese, and he'd taught the Valley one last lesson because he could get away with it:
And because it pleased him to spread pain.
…
Kreese might as well have knocked Kyler out for good measure, but left the boys there groaning on the ground quietly.
He smiled at himself, not even acknowledging Miguel when he slipped away into the night. What shocked Miguel more than anything was just how much Kreese had seemed to teach Kyler a lesson.
Miguel was unsure if he was scared of the man, or actually impressed, not knowing what to think having never met someone like him his entire life. Miguel might as well have not even been there, it was clearly just an excuse to beat Kyler and his friends livid.
Kyler looked like he wouldn't be able to use his left hand for anything for a few solid weeks, and Kreese was probably at least seventy years old from the looks of him.
He had beaten four young men ruthlessly admittedly but Miguel was shocked.
How could his savior be so merciless? He only seemed to be interested in him to instigate the fight.
Miguel then rubbed the Pepto Bismol at the top of his head.
"Whoa." he muttered to himself.
He then ran off home too before he could stand around awkwardly amidst Kyler and his friends. Miguel still didn't know whether to be terrified or impressed when he bought another can of Pepto Bismol and ran back home.
…
The following morning at 9 AM sharp, before he could board his bus, Kreese was stopped by two police officers.
"What'd I do?"
"Assault and battery of four minors. Turn and around and put your hands behind your back please."
Looking like he already knew the drill, Kreese complied with his demands and was read his rights.
Within a few hours, he was put within a holding cell, and Kreese sighed.
He was sure he timed his attack better.
There was no way the kids he attacked had wealthy connections right?
Kreese looked around the holding cell. It almost looked like a second home to him, extremely familiar.
However, after a few more hours, an officer swung by holding a clipboard.
"John Kreese?"
He stood up off the bench next to others in the holding cell.
"Yes?"
"You made bail, congratulations. I'll be taking you out for some paperwork in about fifteen minutes."
"Who was it?"
"Someone who clearly doesn't value a whole lot of money." the officer eyed Kreese up and down with disgust.
…
Walking out into the early June Southern California sun with increasingly aged eyesight, Kreese chuckled.
"I see you lost the ponytail."
He looked a little closer, still squinting with his hand raised.
"Do I know you?"
"Ali took me to one of your karate classes back in the day. She was still with Johnny back then."
Oddly, Kreese recognized him.
"Frank Mills?"
They shook hands. "Pleasure."
"Why'd you. I mean why would you-"
They spoke calmly on the front steps of the police precinct.
Frank explained. "I can manage to bring this whole thing down to a misdemeanor and get you off with half a year of community service."
"Really?"
"You broke a sixteen year old kid's hand John, injured three others. The least you can do is say thank you."
"No I mean, I still don't get any of this."
"I honestly never liked any of this karate nonsense. In fact, I'd pay to see it out of the Valley for good."
Kreese and Frank made eye contact for almost four seconds.
"You'd hate your own grandson's passion that much?"
"Oh please. Don't act like you ever cared about what these kids wanted."
Kreese squinted again. "You don't know them."
"I knew my own daughter, and Ali never liked you."
Kreese opened his mouth to retort but Frank spoke. "Officer Lin Davis told me you were about to board a Greyhound due for the east coast or something before you were brought in. Is that correct?"
"Actually, it was Chicago, but how does Lucas feel about this?"
"You won't talk to him ever again."
Kreese turned his head slightly. "And LaRusso, will he get the same treatment?"
"Daniel LaRusso doesn't beat children in strip mall parking lots."
"No, he prefers to lie to them and cheat them instead."
"And you're better?"
Kreese bit his lip, balling his fists.
"I was a better grandfather or father to him than you were or Ali's husband Greg ever were. You don't want to admit that, so you bail me out. Want to make a deal, to save your pride, try to decide for myself how I get to go out."
Frank loomed over Kreese, strangely, the retired doctor was taller. While he wasn't physically intimidating to Kreese at all, the retired doctor was put in a financially and legally superior position in every single way.
"I don't know who else you can turn to for help. Either that, or you'll have to figure out a way to find a single job here in the Valley to pay off what you owe me. I want Lucas to become a respected doctor here in the Valley at some point, and the best way to do that, is to write you out of the picture for good."
"I'm confused I take out a loan?"
"No," Frank said. "But I'll talk to the county and a minute or two later, and you might. I'm doing this to make sure you never come back, or never bother me ever again."
Kreese understood perfectly again. "So I take it I can get on that bus now?"
"I suggest you do."
"Afraid I can't now, I owe you a whole lot of money first."
Frank turned to watch Kreese start to leave the precinct steps.
"Where are you going?"
Kreese answered calmly. "Like you said. To find a job so I can pay you back," he said bitterly.
No matter what it cost him or the Valley, he would pay back his debt to Frank Mills. No matter what it cost anyone, he'd show the Valley one last time:
Revenge would never stop Kreese until he was six feet under.
…
…
…
A/N:
Hey everyone, new fic here of course.
Like season 1 of the show, the focus was heavily and almost exclusively on the adult characters until the audience became comfortable with and cared about the teen characters.
Lucas Schwarber, like always, is portrayed by Dylan Minnette in my mind whenever I write him. I don't know why, but he seems to fit the role rather well whenever I'm writing him. I won't spoil the pairing for him for this fanfic.
As for Frank and Olivia Mills, Ali's parents from the first karate kid film, I don't have actors in mind when I'm writing them except Ed Begley Jr. for Frank, I suppose the same ones Cobra Kai and the karate kid series gave us work fine. Anyway, I'm going to post that review I said I'd post before:
"I don't get this version. The original had some issues, some conflict felt unnecessary but mostly was organic - one thing leading to another. The conflict here seems artificially manufactured. Forced.
Doesn't seem like Miyagi-do fits because of Daniel - the constant turning everything on Lucas and not really helping him… Freezing Lucas out makes less sense in this version, even worse for Robby to do so - still pretty Zen so out of character to shove everything onto Lucas and really talk to him, just blame him as if it's easier. The grandfather dictating Lucas life is also for the worse - though either version forcing him to be a doctor wasn't great but at least doing so to make ends meet before made sense. Lucas doesn't act like an SI anymore, nor do we see his POV/thoughts, all 3rd person.
Don't see the point where things are - he quits there's no story, and Daniel so far has been a terrible Sensei. He'd do better with Bobby but seeing seem like he'll be involved this time.
I'll stick with the cobra Kai version."
My aim is to improve the pacing a bit to explain these changes a bit better, even if I think the review is off base and wrong in regards to what I actually portrayed in the story. I still believe this review is wrong, but the claims it makes won't make much sense because around 100,000 words worth of story happen between now and the point where they can say this. Either way, I want to write the best story that would make sense within the Netflix Cobra Kai universe, which is why I tone down the SI ness of Lucas as time goes on, it becomes less relevant as the characters stray into territory that is generally different than canon.
The main issue the review overlooks is that "sticking with Cobra Kai version" as if its better and makes more sense is...wrong in my opinion. Original Luke Schwarber was basically an unstoppable chick magnet that embodied No Mercy, despite being a generally level headed guy. The review also claims Robby as OOC which I do not think I ever do so, this Robby is far different than canon is still acts like him in my opinion. Feel free to give me your thoughts below.
Canon only really had a few issues, the constant bickering with Johnny and Daniel for almost six seasons straight. The teen drama was pretty weak in most areas, and most of the karate chose style over substance, which during actual competition has issues as with combat sports like boxing and others. I aim to fix all of them, as well as my own mistakes from what this review said, still wrong in most areas but giving room for thoughts, and where I believe I went wrong with the 'cobra kai version.'
This is the Miyagi-Do version.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all soon.