Disclaimer:

I do not own any of the Karate Kid franchise. Neither goes for the characters of Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence, or any of the mentioned Cobra Kai members, or any other mentioned characters. This fanfiction plot is all mine.

Chapter Thirteen: The Disastrous Soccer Game

DANIEL LARUSSO POV

As I woke up on Sunday, I gleefully took off my ankle brace and tentatively tried my ankle. I grinned broadly. I was able to flex it and kicked out and nothing felt sore! I rushed to the phone, called Johnny, and told him his favourite striker was able to play for the game today!

After breakfast, I worked on homework, (naturally I struggled with the odious subject of geometry) then bolted down lunch. I quickly changed into my kit and threw a change of clothes into my beaten sports bag, zipped it, bent down to put on my shin pads and cleats. I went into the kitchen, opened the freezer for my frozen water bottle and was about to call out to Mom to tell her that I was ready, but before I could, there was a knock at the door. Confused, I went over to answer it, only to my surprise and pleasure, it was Johnny, dressed in his kit behind the door.

Johnny tersely asked me "Want a lift?" I opened my mouth to refuse, but the look in Johnny's eyes made me worried, so I did not refuse him. I yelled out to Mom "Ma! John's here and he'll give me a lift to the game, so you can come later!" Then I slammed the door behind me and followed Johnny down the stairs and over to the red Avanti. Once we were buckled up and trundling down the road, I noticed Johnny's mood seemed not to change as if my presence did not improve his mood. We parked at the high school's soccer field, where the game against the opposing team was going to take place today. As I went to help Johnny pull out the bag of soccer balls for our warm ups, and before he would stride off, I put a hand on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't brush me off and said quietly "Are you okay?"

Johnny looked up from fidgeting with the bags to stare into my eyes, then gave me a grim smile and said, "I'll tell you later. Promise." He grabbed my shirt with one hand and dragged me in for a brief kiss. A hot, but brief kiss. One that ended too soon. I sighed as I dropped back to subtly follow Johnny to the changing room, bumping into Freddy on the way. Freddy launched into a loud, gesturing tale of his weekend so far. I let the boy next to me try to distract me from my gloomy thoughts about Johnny.

As the whistle blew for half-time, I dragged myself off the field tiredly, then made my way over to my stuff, grabbing my water bottle and drained most of it, quenching my thirst.

Johnny whistled, calling for the other players' attention and me. He waved us over and said, "Look guys, this is what we have to do..." he gave us some strategies to improve the game since we were lagging behind a bit score-wise. As we walked back on the field for the second half of the game, I accidentally bumped into Dutch, who shoved me. I ignored the peroxide blonde Cobra and took my position, which unfortunately was near the sneering Dutch.

In the midst of the game, I had incepted a pass from the opposition, and was preparing to pass to Freddy, but stumbled and tripped over the ball. "Crap!" I shouted as the ball spun towards the opposition, who grabbed on the opportune moment to claim the ball back again.

"Idiot!" Dutch shouted angrily at me, kicking out and hitting my kneecap hard in a deliberate manoeuvre. I let out a yell of pain and collapsed, groaning and holding my knee. The soccer medics immediately were at my side, asking me insistent questions, while I saw the referee giving Dutch and a red card and pointing to the bench, where I saw an oblivious Johnny was, talking to the coach.

Before I was carried off on the sketcher, I saw Johnny in front of an angry Dutch, with Johnny pointing in my direction and yelling something indistinct, then Dutch probably saying something smart-ass about me, then Johnny punched him, starting a repeat of the last memorable Dutch-Johnny fight. Before the doors of the ambulance shut on me, I saw the referee pull a resisting Johnny off Dutch.

I was now bored, sitting on a free bed in the Emergency Room, waiting for Mom or the doctor to come back to give me a report of what my injury was.

I straightened as Johnny came in the room, looked around then made a beeline for me. I frowned as I saw his black eye. I gingerly reach out to touch it in concern, but he grabbed my hand and ducked before my fingers would make contact and muttered, "I'm fine." He turned to the window next to me, shoulders tense. I watched him in concern.

Finally, he said, "I quit."

Confused, I asked him "Quit what, Johnny?"

He turned back to me, raised his eyes and maintained eye contact with me as he said calmly "I went to see Kreese yesterday afternoon and told him that I lost my passion for the sport and that he was teaching karate wrong. I mean, look at me, I learned karate and I used it to bully you." He finished bitterly; as he flashed back to the time he was a bully to me, using fists and anger to solve all his problems.

I was shocked. "But you love karate." I insisted, my memory picturing the Joe Lewis poster on his door and the many photos of the Cobras in their karate gi decorating his corkboard. Johnny shook his head and said quietly "Not anymore. Not if I was taught to misuse karate as a torture method."

I silently reached out for his hand. To my utter surprise, Johnny grabbed hold of it halfway. We sat in silence, holding hands and smiling at eachother. The door opened, and hearing Mom's voice, we both jerked apart, a guilty expression upon Johnny's face and probably mine as well. Mom, being the inattentive mother she had been lately, did not notice, so I let out a relived sigh. After exchanging polite greetings between Mom and Johnny, Mom turned to me and said, "Well it's a good thing we didn't give the crutches back yet. According to the doctor, and the x-rays, the bone is not broken but you have dislocated your kneecap and you are not playing for the rest of the season. You're going to have to wear a knee brace, and when the swelling goes down, you have to see an orthopaedist to check if it needs surgery."

I groaned and lay down, immediately hating Dutch for what he has done to me. Dimly I heard Johnny who was in the soccer captain's role ask Mom for more details, and offering to pay for the hospital bill and any other necessary options, while Mom was refusing, pride shading her tone. I shut my eyes, shutting out both Mom and Johnny's voices, struggling not to be upset.