Author's note: If you'd told me, a couple of years ago, that I would develop such intense feeling for characters from a heartfelt little karate film from the 80s and a little karate soap opera, I would have been very surprised. But here am I, writing and publishing a story on the Fanfiction Dot Net about the karate soap opera, because I've loved this show to pieces since 2020 but season 5 made my heart shatter and knit itself back again.
Also, all my found family feels :o)
In the Light of Tea and Sake
Winnetka, San Fernando Valley, 1999
"Well, I think that's it."
"That's it? Really?"
"Yep. Everything on the list."
Daniel took a sip from his espresso. How he could keep downing coffee at 6PM and still sleep like a log afterward had always baffled Amanda. Especially since he wasn't exactly short on energy to begin with.
"Wow."
Amanda took the paper, sliding it closer on the table. The 'list' in question was a little chaotic and largely symbolic anyway, but it was something, seeing all those checked boxes in front of various items like Pick up dress from the dry cleaner, Send RSVPs, or Order extra Lambrusco. They weren't even in the correct chronological order, but every single one was crossed out.
For some reason her heartbeat was very loud in her chest, and she wasn't sure all of it could be chalked up to excitement.
"We're getting married," she said softly, almost to herself.
Daniel flashed her a grin.
"Well yeah, that was the idea."
"No, I mean… married."
"That's… a thing that can happen when two people decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. You're not going Runaway Bride on me now, are ya?"
A smile slipped past the tension in Amanda's chest.
"And miss on the buffet afterward? Are you kidding?"
She was rewarded by a laugh and a cheeky grin, followed by an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows which Daniel was bound to know looked both ridiculous and charming.
Some of the weird tension inside her eased.
God, she loved that man so much.
At least that had never been in question.
"You're so much prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway," he said loyally, before adding, "Besides, you know the only thing that'll be different tomorrow night is that we're gonna be wearing a ring, right here." He pointed at his left ring finger. "The ceremony's just an excuse to get everyone we love together for once. Once that's out of the way we'll all stuff ourselves with great food, and dance, and we'll have a great time. Oh, that reminds me – give me the list, I just thought of something –"
Food, dance, and all their loved ones in one place. Amanda couldn't help but smile at the mental picture. Sure, when you put it that way, it all sounded so simple. Daniel had a gift for making complicated things sound simple, or at least straightforward.
But this shouldn't be complicated, should it?
Except… Maybe it should. It was one of the biggest decisions of her life, after all, right up there with deciding to swap Ohio State for UCLA almost at the last minute and move halfway across the country. Talk about a leap of faith. At least she'd had Aunt Pat, and Jessica on holidays sometimes.
So. Maybe a few jitters were only natural.
She put her chin in her hand, letting her shoulders sag, and gazed at the man seated near her at their kitchen table. He was scribbling his last-minute entry on their list with the earnestness he usually reserved for tasks like writing letters or trimming bonsais. Things he loved doing.
Amanda smiled softly into her palm, almost despite herself.
"What are you adding?"
"Nothin' important, just a couple of ideas for the music. You know, in case the DJ goes through his entire playlist and decides to take requests."
"It's our wedding, babe," she pointed out. "I'm pretty sure we'll be allowed a few requests. You know, besides the first song." She paused. "Although I might have to bribe the guy with cake to get him to play 'Always' at some point. Preferably around 11PM when we're all a little wasted on champagne and I can get you to myself for a slow dance."
Daniel's grin came back full force. "Way ahead of you."
It was the second of the songs he'd added to their Things To Do Before The Wedding list, the first being 'Desperado', because he loved the 70s and 80s soft rock he'd grown up with. Besides the Eagles and Bon Jovi, the rest of the songs was pretty eclectic. Amanda was fairly sure he'd thrown in 'Tutti Frutti' specifically for his mom to lindy hop to.
With him, probably.
Daniel LaRusso was something of a momma's boy (the logical result of having been a family of two for so long), a trait which against all odds Amanda found charming. If only Lucille's attitude toward her didn't set her future daughter-in-law's teeth on edge…
Good thing Daniel's close family didn't stop at his mother.
Sometimes it felt just a little odd that he and the closest thing he had to another parent essentially called each other "Mister" all the time, like a teacher and his student, but over the years Amanda had learned to hear the terms of endearment behind the honorifics.
When she looked up from the list she met Daniel's eyes, warm and a little bit wistful.
"Still set for your girls' night, then?"
"It's more of a games night, really," she pointed out. "Besides, my uncle Brian will be there too, so I don't know if you can really call it a girls' night. But yes, I'd better get going. Aunt Pat likes everybody to be punctual for big dinners and I'll be glad to see Jessie again. And mom," she added as an afterthought, feeling vaguely guilty that it had to be a late addition.
"Okay. Well, enjoy your last night as a bachelorette."
"Aren't you gonna tell me to not do anything you wouldn't do?"
Daniel snorted.
"I think we both know the chances of that are pretty slim."
"Oh, please. I know you're a bit impulsive, but surely you couldn't be that reckless as a kid, right?"
"That depends on where you rank 'Blowing all my savings on a last-minute passport and round trip to Okinawa' on your scale of reckless things people can do."
"Pretty damn reckless, yeah. But in context it was also incredibly sweet, so as far as I'm concerned it doesn't make the scale." She leaned in to kiss him, lingering just a bit, hoping he wouldn't feel just how fast her heart thumped an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. "I'll see you at the church tomorrow, then."
"Can't wait," said Daniel softly, all shining eyes and earnestness, with no trace of the nerves she realised with a flash of guilt she'd been trying to squash for a while.
No doubt there, no uncertainty. He was one hundred percent committed to marrying her and, like he said, spending the rest of his life with her – like his parents probably would have if his father hadn't died way too soon.
Amanda had made her choice, wanted that, too, so… Why was she so goddamn nervous?
She turned up the volume on the radio in the car to drown out the question, and resolutely avoided glancing back at the cover bag that contained her dress for the entire drive to Aunt Pat's Chatsworth house.
The door opened on Aunt Pat's beaming smile.
"Heads up, folks, here comes the bride!"
Amanda barely had the time to smile back and say hi before she was engulfed in a warm hug and plied with questions about how she was keeping, and was she excited for tomorrow, and her well-being in general. Aunt Pat was a veritable whirlwind, her love as generous as it was relentless, and in the blink of an eye Amanda was whisked upstairs, hugged welcome several times, and seated on the couch between her mom and her Uncle Brian.
"So good to see you, honey."
"How are you doing, Mandy?"
God, she'd missed them. But she hadn't missed being the last guest who inevitably took the spotlight and got mobbed.
Amanda found herself calling on everything she and Daniel had had to learn when they'd started selling cars to and rubbing elbows with North Hollywood royalty in order to mask the anxiety churning dully in her stomach.
(Those people could smell impostor syndrome a mile away, like sharks with blood in the water. You needed the right smile, the right poise, and a self-confidence that could shatter a rock. She'd gotten surprisingly good at it. Daniel was still working out some kinks.)
"Oh, well I –"
"Don't crowd the poor girl," exclaimed Aunt Maggie from the staircase. Presumably she'd been the one to take Amanda's overnight bag and dress upstairs to what had been Jessica's room once. "Canapés, sweetie? Brian made them specially for you."
"I know you like 'em," Uncle Brian chimed in with fake bashfulness and real pride, handing her the plate.
Amanda picked one – a spinach and goat cheese pastry, nice – and grinned. "Thanks."
"He's not the fancy caterer you picked for the wedding reception, but nothing can beat your uncle's cooking, right?"
"Mom," said Jessica from the armchair she'd sat in after welcoming Amanda with a brief hug like everyone else, "please. You promised you wouldn't say anything more about the catering. I'm sure it'll be great," she added with a smile in Amanda's direction. The warmth of it eased a knot that had just started to tense in Amanda's shoulders.
Aunt Maggie sighed the heavy sigh of the put-upon, but thankfully didn't protest.
"So, Jessie," said Amanda swiftly, before more questions or remarks about her upcoming wedding, "how's Nick? And Holly and Paige?"
"They're fine," Jessica said, helping herself to more appetisers. "Nick's minding the girls tonight." She laughed. "They're all psyched up about tomorrow, but I don't know how much of that is getting to sleep in a hotel or the prospect of hurling flower petals at people tomorrow. We're gonna have a couple of excited little gremlins on our hands until they serve the cake," she added with transparent fondness.
Amanda shook her head with a snort. "Sorry about that. If I'd known asking them to be flower girls would create monsters…"
"Don't worry, they love you and Daniel to pieces. They'll keep their mischief down to tame levels for your sakes."
"I'll drink to that." Amanda raised the glass of white wine Aunt Pat had just put in her hand and toasted them both.
There was a scoff to her right.
"What, Mom?"
"Nothing, darling, just… I still don't understand why you'd want to put yourself through all this hassle. I understand wanting a big family reunion, but you don't need a wedding for that. Do you know just how many marriages end in a divorce these days?"
Amanda had to force herself to take a second to breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth, Mr. Miyagi's voice echoing in her head the way it did when she did her yoga while he and Daniel did katas – and attempted to smile. The result felt more strained than what she aimed at. She must really be off tonight; usually her diplomacy game was much better than that.
"Four point one for every thousand Americans, I know, Mom. You told me. Several times." At least she still knew the exact amount of warning needed in her tone to make her mother know she was toeing the limits. "But it was my choice. Our choice."
For a second, Joanne appeared to have a ready argument on her tongue. Fortunately, it was the moment Aunt Pat chose to clap her hands and ask her to help her set the table.
"Oh, and Brian made buckeyes for dessert," she added with a wink at Amanda and Jessica.
The two cousins looked at each other.
"Okay, how many of those do you think can we eat before we realise we no longer fit into our dresses?"
Jessica laughed. "I don't know, but I like a challenge. Come on, let's find out."
Amanda popped one last canapé into her mouth and rose from the couch, taking Jessica's arm as they went.
The dinner was excellent.
It was also, at times, endless.
At her best, Amanda cultivated patience like a well-kept garden. Being patient helped when co-running a business. It also helped smooth things out in her personal life. Her couple was a partnership of equals, well balanced, but she'd known from the start her temper was more even than Daniel's. Each knew to take their turn at patience when the other needed some, though.
So it wasn't like a few derogatory comments on her life choices and management style were enough to rile her up – not usually, and especially when scattered among casual kindnesses and funny anecdotes. Mrs LaRusso could dish worse than that on a good day. But the timing sucked.
Why couldn't she seem to stop feeling so worried already?
"Joanne," said Aunt Pat in a warning tone while they were all helping themselves to dessert, "leave the girl alone. That's the second time she makes that face, and I don't like that face."
Amanda was tempted to point out that, as an almost twenty-nine-year-old with a thriving career, she was more of a woman than a girl, but at this point any kind of lifebuoy was welcome.
"I'm just saying," said Joanne in a voice Amanda was annoyed seemed to sound much more reasonable than her own, "Daniel's a good man and I'm sure you'll be very happy together. It's the shackling up I don't get. Everything you own, everything you earn, you'll have to share – you'll completely lose your independence. And what if it doesn't work out in the end?"
"Then you get to tell me 'I told you so'," Amanda retorted. The sarcasm came out sharper than she intended. She had to take a second to centre herself. "Look, Mom, can we drop the subject already? I just wanted a nice family dinner, not a re-enactment of the Salem trials."
Her mother rolled her eyes, but softened.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just want what's best for you."
Oh, for…
"So do I, and I've been old enough to know what I want for some time now." Amanda paused as the realisation hit her. "And right now, I think… I think I want to go home."
There was a shocked silence.
"Oh, sweetie," said Aunt Pat, startled, "you're not staying for game night?"
"Sorry, Aunt Pat, not tonight. I'm turning in early. If it's okay with you I'll be back here at 9 to get dressed, just after the hairdresser appointment. You know, if the dress still fits."
The quip fell slightly flat. Her mother looked crestfallen.
"Amanda, honey, I swear I won't say a single –"
Amanda waved a hand, already feeling calmer for her decision to not stay after all.
"I'm not storming off in a huff, Mom, don't worry. I just… need my own bed right now. I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"
To her relief, she was answered by murmurs of assent and sympathetic noises.
One of the perks of being a bride-to-be was that many people expected you to be nervous and irrational, and were more willing than usual to let it go. In hindsight, maybe she should've banked on that much earlier instead of doubling down on trying at all costs to come across as chill, efficient and cheerful to everyone but Daniel.
She bid everyone good night, kissed her mother on the cheek (getting an apology hug she'd probably appreciate better tomorrow), and picked up her handbag.
"Sorry about your mom," said Jessica softly when they were both at the door. "And mine. And Dad. Wow, this dinner was kinda terrible, huh."
"We've had better, yeah," Amanda conceded with a small smile. "I really would have enjoyed the sleepover, though. Sorry about that."
"Don't worry, we can always take a rain check. I'm sure Daniel won't mind if I borrow my cousin for a girls' night out one of these days." She paused, and rubbed her hand along Amanda's arm. "Sure you're gonna be okay?"
"I'll be fine, Jessie. Thanks. I'm just a little beat right now."
Jessica peered at her for a few seconds without saying anything, then pulled her into a hug Amanda returned gladly.
When they parted her heart was lighter, though it still beat uncomfortably loud in her throat.
"All right, go get some rest. I'll save you some buckeyes."
"And that is why you're my favourite cousin," said Amanda with a laugh. Jessica grinned.
"Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow morning, then."
"Bye, Jessie."
The lull had done Amanda good. By the time she was behind the wheel of her car, fishing her cell phone from her handbag to send Daniel a text, the tension that had kept building during the dinner was waning a bit. She still felt on edge though, like electricity running just under her skin.
She did want to go home, change into her most comfy pyjamas, and snuggle her boyfriend as if tomorrow weren't anything special. Maybe pop Ghostbusters into the VCR. They'd watched it so many times over the years the tape was starting to get creases in some places.
But the state she was in right now… Daniel was a perceptive guy. What if he picked up on her nervousness and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Jitters weren't cold feet, but it was bad, right? Or at least a bad sign?
Amanda flipped her phone closed, buckled her seatbelt… and threw her head back in frustration, hitting the headrest. Ugh. If that little voice in her head could just shut up—
She didn't send the text, figuring she could surprise her boyfriend – fiancé – and drove off.
She was coming up to Sherman Way when she spotted the bridge over the Browns Canyon Wash in the near distance. Before she knew it, she was turning west toward Canoga Park.
This is probably a bad idea, she thought, but she kept driving.
Amanda knocked once, then twice, softly enough for plausible deniability that someone was on the threshold at all. The door opened before she could decide whether to stay or leave discreetly while it was still polite.
Mr. Miyagi's eyebrows went up.
"Amanda-san?"
"Good evening, Mr. Miyagi," she said, and did a hasty bow after belatedly realising she'd forgotten. "Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just… I…"
He waited until she failed to finish her sentence, then asked with a frown, "Thought you go to family tonight. Everything all right?"
Amanda gave a shaky laugh. "Yes. Well, no. Well, yes, it's just… This is so dumb. I'm sorry, I'll—"
"Amanda-san." His voice was gentler than usual, less gruff. "Want some tea?"
She breathed out, let her tense shoulders sag a little.
"Tea would be lovely, thank you."
Mr. Miyagi silently stepped aside to let her in.
Amanda went to sit on her knees in front of the low table, her hands in her lap. It felt strange, being there without Daniel. Mr. Miyagi had never made her feel unwelcome, even for a second, but the bond between those two was so obvious it was almost tangible, a living, breathing thing. They shared so many private jokes, and memories, and overall a kind of shorthand to each other that it might have made Amanda feel left out very easily.
She never did.
All it took was Daniel's voice pulling her back from the sidelines, or Mr. Miyagi's eyes twinkling as he shared a quiet smile with her, to remind Amanda that there was a place there with them that was just for her.
But she'd never been on her own there before, let alone at ten in the evening.
Mr. Miyagi soon came back with a tray loaded with a steaming teapot and two round cups. Amanda made sure to hold hers correctly, despite the impulse to wrap her fingers around it.
"Thank you," she said quietly. Mr. Miyagi gave a short nod and sat down, too.
The tea was a good quality matcha, foamy and sweet, the perfect temperature when Amanda dipped her lips into it.
Her evening hadn't been quiet. It had been frustrating at times, sure, but also full of love and laughter, a familiar brand of chaos as various conversations collided across the dinner table. As she closed her eyes to savour the silence, the heat of the cup, and the flavour of the tea, some of the tension that had made her heartbeat loud and her chest tight seemed to drain away.
The rest of that tension remained in place, but its coils were slightly less taut now.
The little house felt as it always did, cosy and warm despite the early October night outside flirting with the lower fifties. The light-coloured wood walls helped. So did the paper lamps, the rug, and the decorations here and there, testament to a life rich enough to contain several.
A few items stuck out, though. There was a navy blue suit on a coat-hanger, the pants neatly folded over the lower bar. It was flanked with another hanger, over which a white shirt was draped. Hanging around the hook of the hanger was a silk tie with a blue and white flower motif.
The shirt's wide lapels were a few years out of date, but the ensemble fit together surprisingly well. And retro was in style, anyway.
Amanda smiled.
"Mr. Miyagi, you're going to look fabulous tomorrow."
"Good suit. Do all work." He took a sip from his cup and glanced at her. "Good thing about wedding: everyone look at bride, nobody else. So Miyagi can wear flashy suit, no problem."
Amanda suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.
"Hopefully they'll be also looking at Daniel. I mean, he's the groom. And his suit is pretty neat, too."
"Hai. And Daniel-san look at you whole time."
This time Amanda's smile had a touch of heat in her cheeks. He probably would stare a little, at that.
Quiet fell again, so unobtrusively Amanda started when Mr. Miyagi asked, "So. What wrong?"
Amanda drank from her matcha again and gently laid the cup on the table.
"Mr. Miyagi, can I… can I ask you a question?"
Mr. Miyagi gave her a nod.
"Have you ever been nervous, even though there was absolutely no logical reason to be nervous?"
"Miyagi nervous plenty of time," he said, glancing at her curiously. "Sometimes true reason hidden, only see later. Why?"
"I've been feeling… a little weird about tomorrow, all evening. Well, make that all week, now I think of it. And now I'm – I think I'm a bit scared?"
The last word surprised her even as she said it. She had to take a second to think, a little taken aback.
"Which is completely absurd," she continued with a wave of her hand as though it might hide how self-conscious the admission made her feel. "I mean… It's a wedding, not some high noon duel. I love Daniel and he loves me – we've been living together for four years, for God's sake. I'm not having second thoughts, I'm just…"
Like earlier, Mr. Miyagi waited patiently until it became clear Amanda would not finish her sentence.
"Nothing wrong with nerves before big day. Natural."
"I know, but… Look, we're in 1999. People can choose to not get married and it's not a big deal, so getting married shouldn't be such a big deal, either. I mean, my mom just plain told me she didn't get why I wanted a wedding. She thinks it's old-fashioned."
"And father?" asked Mr. Miyagi, pouring a second helping of tea into both their cups.
Amanda downed some of her matcha, licked the foam from her lips, and lowered her eyes.
"I didn't invite him. We don't have a good relationship."
And if that wasn't a spectacular understatement.
At the beginning, when they were drafting the list of guests, she'd hesitated. Daniel had said, Take your time, honey. It's your call. I know things are complicated between the two of you. Which was sweet of him, because all he'd had to work from were the bare bones: that Ted Steiner had walked out on his family during Amanda's last year of high school, that he lived in Boston now, and that neither Amanda nor her mother talked to him more often than a few times a year. Daniel hadn't pried, hadn't prodded at sore spots and scar tissue; he had taken what she'd been willing to give and not demanded anything more. Amanda had been ridiculously thankful for it.
Mr. Miyagi didn't pry, either, nor offer platitudes. He was just there, giving silent support, with neither judgement nor impatience.
Amanda breathed out.
"My dad had an affair when I was a teenager. My mom caught him cheating and… I guess it was the last straw for their marriage. They got a divorce pretty soon after that."
Mr. Miyagi shook his head ruefully, but made no comment.
"So… maybe that's part of why I'm scared, you know. I do remember them being happy together, and I think even when that stopped they put up a convincing front for my sake, but… I'm not starting out this marriage thing with the best of examples, you know?
"I mean… Daniel's parents really loved each other. I don't really get on with his mom enough to have hearts-to-hearts with her about it, but Daniel's a big fan of scrapbooks and photo albums and I've seen their faces when they look at his dad's pictures. Perhaps he could have ended up having an affair, or doing something that'd make his family disappointed for some reason, but they'll never know. They'll always have these memories of him being a good husband, and a good dad, and that's all they get to keep, because he's dead. Meanwhile, my dad lives in Massachusetts with a woman sixteen years younger and he never remembers my birthday. And he blows me off when I call him at 'inconvenient times'."
Amanda downed her tea in one go, suddenly wishing for something a lot stronger.
"I didn't mean to unload on you," she said quietly, not quite looking Mr. Miyagi in the eyes. "Sorry about that. I think the bottom line is just that I'm scared that even good things go south eventually – someone dies, someone cheats, you know, life happens – and I've been trying not to think about that for some time. And now it's all I can think about. I'll be fine," she added, "I think. But the timing is really, really bad."
"Hm. Timing is what is, can't change that." She raised her eyes. Mr. Miyagi drank the rest of his matcha, then climbed to his feet with a slight groan. "Wait here a moment."
While Amanda worked on swallowing the lump in her throat and blink the sting out of her eyes, he made his way across the room to a cabinet, from which he took a bottle and two glasses.
Not just any bottle, too. This was the kind of sake that always made its way into his cabinet as the winter grew close. The one Daniel said he couldn't let him drink alone. He'd told her the reason for the yearly bender a couple of years ago, when he and Amanda had first moved in together and he'd come back from Mr. Miyagi's one November morning with a massive hangover. Since then, grief and outrage fought an endless battle in Amanda's heart whenever she saw the little hand-coloured photograph in Mr. Miyagi's bedroom, but she'd never found the right words or the right moment to talk to him about it.
"Oh, Mr. Miyagi, you don't have to –"
"At-at-at-at. Tea good, but for this? Strong stuff better. Drink."
He poured two generous drinks and toasted Amanda's tumbler. The glass went clink.
The wine was light, slightly sweet, with a kick at the end. It seemed to warm her throat and chest from the inside, much as the tea had. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the taste. And the kick. She had needed that kick.
When she opened her eyes again Mr. Miyagi was looking straight at her.
"How ridiculous do you think it is," she asked in a low voice, "being scared of your own wedding?"
He shook his head.
"Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand. Admit being scared, though – that pretty brave. You face fear."
She took a sip from her glass to hide the wry turn of her mouth. "Brave is the last thing I'm feeling right now."
"What feeling right now, then?"
"Stupid, mostly. And, well. Still nervous," she added.
"Ah, not stupid. Just young."
"Not that young."
"And not that stupid either." A small laugh escaped Amanda. Mr. Miyagi's expression softened. "Miyagi… very nervous before wedding. Very young then, and very stupid."
Amanda held her breath. He had never mentioned his wife to her before.
"Why were you nervous?"
"Daniel-san tell you about first trip to Okinawa?"
Amanda nodded. "He said you'd left your first love there. She was engaged to marry your best friend, and you left so you wouldn't have to fight him to the death. And win," she added in a softer voice.
Another time, another place, another world. Arranged marriages and duels of honour – it all sounded like a story, not like something regular people her parents' or grandparents' age could have gone through. And maybe at first glance the little old man seated next to her in a khaki button-down did not look like the stuff of stories. But as she had come to know him better, she'd come to know better.
Mr. Miyagi nodded with a smile.
"Hai. Yukie. Very kind, very smart. Very beautiful. Miyagi's heart… broken, little pieces. Think never love again.
"I come to Hawaii in shame, start working small jobs. Fix carts, fix roads, cut cane in fields. Then… meet Sakiko."
He stopped for a gulp of sake, then continued in a faraway voice, "And she smart, and kind, and beautiful too. Her laugh was like… sun, here." He patted his chest. "Each time, little piece of heart come back. One day I ask, Will you marry me? And she not laugh. Say yes."
Another gulp.
"Luckiest guy on Earth."
Amanda drank, too, hoping it would make her throat less tight. It didn't.
"And you were still nervous?"
"Of course. Sakiko was sunshine, I was bum with broken heart! Didn't believe second chance at love. Too rare. Like, blow it with Yukie in Okinawa then, blow it with Sakiko in Hawaii now, you know?"
Despite everything Amanda had to bite on an unexpected smile. That last bit was definitely a LaRusso contribution to Mr. Miyagi's English.
"So, what did you do?"
"Marry Sakiko anyway. Say to myself, Must not lose to fear. Love… too precious to be touched by something like fear."
If Amanda had been seated on a chair, this would have been a perfect time to cross her arms on the table and lay her head on them, if only as a cover for the emotions she could feel rising in her throat. But the table was too low for that. Instead, she took another gulp of sake and leaned forward on her elbows, her whole body slumping even as her mouth wobbled into a smile at the last sentence.
A smile that fell when Mr. Miyagi poured himself another glass and muttered, "This story no happy ending, either."
He stole a glance through the open door of his bedroom, where he kept Sakiko's picture and the little box that contained some of his most painful memories. Amanda swallowed, her eyes burning.
"I know," she murmured. "Daniel told me what happened then. Mr. Miyagi, I am so sorry, that—"
"Eh, long time ago. Not worry." But his voice was rough, his eyes shining wetly in the dim light of the lanterns. He reached for his glass, downed some of the wine; when he set his glass down Amanda laid a hand on his arm, gently, at a loss for how to convey everything she wanted to.
Somewhat to her surprise, he didn't pull his arm back.
"Was boy, you know. Little American Miyagi boy, born California. Sakiko wanted American name, like George, Harry. I wanted Kanryō, like father. Sakiko say, Why not both? Many Americans more than one name. Last letter say, Little Kanryō Harry strong, kick hard."
Mr. Miyagi picked up his glass with his free hand and emptied it in one go. A breath shuddered out of him.
"Miyagi pretty damn lost for a while after. No pick up broken pieces for many years. Too much work."
Amanda was reluctant to remove her hand, still clasping his arm. She clenched her lower jaw to keep it from trembling and wiped her eyes with the thumb of her left hand.
Mr. Miyagi made for the bottle again, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand flopped on Amanda's, patted it once or twice, then squeezed.
Then he let go and leaned back, blinking at the ceiling.
"Life, you know. Sometimes work out, sometimes, ah… sometimes not."
"That's one way to put it," said Amanda, her voice thick and echoing around strangely in her head. Mr. Miyagi looked back down again and peered at her.
"Not mean give up on life. Never know what you find next. Like chocolate box."
Something that might have been a laugh in different circumstances snorted its way through Amanda's nose. Thank goodness she hadn't been drinking. Look at the dignified bride, snickered a voice in her head that sounded a lot like her own.
"Did you just quote Forrest Gump!?"
"I watch TV," Mr. Miyagi retorted with what she could recognise as a rather poor attempt at his usual stone-face sarcasm. Not that she'd dream of calling him out on it. "Good for catchy saying. Sound wise later, when make this face and go hmm. Listen to wise old Miyagi."
Amanda, flabbergasted, dealing with severe mood whiplash, and maybe just a little buzzed after Aunt Pat's dinner and half a glass of sake, stared at him open-mouthed for a while until delight started to creep into her face, like a blush. Mr. Miyagi smiled.
"Daniel-san make same face first time figure out karate training. Mouth open, big eyes, ooh."
"I know that face," Amanda laughed. "I've seen that face. His eyes go…" She made a gesture with all five fingers extended, palm out, and smiled fondly. "He loves to make everyone think he's got it all figured out. You know, control, balance, and everything. But then something will blow his mind and wham – surprise face."
"Hai. Good moment. Great fun, too." Mr. Miyagi picked up his sake again, both his moustache and his glass almost hiding his smile until he realised there was no alcohol left in it. "Miyagi father teach karate since small boy. This high." He raised his hand at a height Amanda, through her patchy experience with kids, guessed must mean 'very young child'. "Do kata, blocks, balance exercises. Build good muscle, good reflex, good head. Years to learn. But Daniel-san, only two month training before tournament. Had to trick mind for body build muscle and reflex quickly."
"And did he have a good head?" asked Amanda, resting her right elbow on the table and her cheek into her palm, smiling at the mental picture.
That smile widened at Mr. Miyagi's expression.
"Eh… Depend. Hard head, yes. Big mouth. Bit of a handful. Tended to rush into things, not look right, not look left – only forward. Sometimes not even then!" He raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. "And stubborn, like mule. If really no want listen, no listen at all, even Miyagi, even mother!"
He shook his head.
"Good head, yes, sometimes – but good heart, always. Big heart. Bigger than him."
Amanda had to smile again at that. She and Daniel were the same height; she stood taller than him when she wore high heels, but she'd always been tall for a woman. 5'9 was the average height for a man. He did seem to have twice the average amount of heart, though, which had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.
"You know," said Mr. Miyagi as he screwed the sake bottle's cap back on, "Daniel-san tell me later he was angry when he and mother move here, to California. I understand. Left family, friends. Memories. Tomb father buried. And for place that no want them, no understand them. Funny face, funny accent. Get laugh at, beat up. Don't know rules here, he say.
"Well, Miyagi know thing or two about Don't know rules here. He say angry boy now. I see lonely boy then. Polite to old Okinawa fixer guy. Gentle with bonsai. Come down, say, Hey, Mr. Miyagi, can hang out with you tonight? I know mother work late, I know boys with bad attitude in school. I say, Sure, here bonsai clipper. Here story about Okinawa. And then, later, karate training. But even after tournament, still show up. Do kata, help fix house, talk. Talk a lot," Mr Miyagi added in that special tone of his, dry but for the twinkle in his eyes, "but, er… listen, too. Listen good, for young man who talk so much."
Amanda smiled into her palm, both at Mr. Miyagi's words and the guarded but transparent affection in his voice.
"He is good at that," she murmured, "when he wants to be."
"Hai. Sometimes forget, but never for long. Love bring him back, always." He paused. "Even when being bonehead."
The word made Amanda chuckle silently.
"He really means a lot to you, huh." Like you mean the world to him, she didn't say. But then again she was fairly sure she didn't need to.
Mr. Miyagi pursed his lips in thought. Then gave a short nod.
"Boy lonely when come here. Miyagi… lonely for long time then. Busy life, busy hands, yes. But, er, heart need busy too. Need love to give, to get. Like bonsai; no love, then no water, no help shape and grow. Root go weak. No good."
His eyes fell on a little juniper on a cabinet – one of the many bonsais scattered here and there, in the house and the garden – and his moustache twitched.
"Then one day Miyagi realise heart get pretty busy, too. Turn out lonely boy with big mouth and hard head, plenty of love to give. When I get letter from Yukie that father dying, he say, I'm coming with you, Mr. Miyagi. Be there for you. And when father die…" He cleared his throat. "When father die, no more wise Mr. Miyagi for a while. No more funny jokes, no more smart sensei. Just little old man alone, full of tears and regret.
"Daniel-san lose father, too. Shared grief with me then, regret, guilt. Kind words, gentle silence. Help pick up broken pieces."
For some reason this reminded Amanda of her mom taking up yoga after Dad left, like her, so they'd share an activity that was all theirs and help each other through it. Or Jessica spending six months in California after Amanda moved in, just so she wouldn't be alone in a strange place.
She drank from her sake and smiled into her glass, trying to catch Mr. Miyagi's eyes.
"That's what a good family does," she said softly as she set the tumbler down. "Be there in the good times and the bad."
"Miyagi not very good family. No see father for forty years."
"No, but… family doesn't have to be blood, right? You were there for Daniel and he was there for you. That's the important thing."
Mr. Miyagi shot her a side glance.
"True." His gaze softened. "Once I lose baby boy. Later, I get young man. Not same, but not less."
And before Amanda could figure out whether she wanted to smile or cry – and if she could get away with blaming it on the sake – he said in a voice that was a lot more like his usual matter-of-fact tone:
"You say Life happen – you right. I say Sometimes work out, sometimes not – Miyagi also right. But life is people, too. And…"
He stopped, as though searching for words.
"Look, important thing about Daniel-san: hot head, kind heart. Always fight for what believe, here." He put his hand over his heart. "And what Daniel-san believe most is family, friends. Trust. Support in hard times. No walk away from difficult situation – go right toward trouble and say, I make this right. And I think you same, Amanda-san."
"Mr. Miyagi," said Amanda in a small voice, putting her chin in both her hands and leaning with her elbows on the table, "if you're trying to promise me we'll never have problems, I'm not gonna believe you."
"No. You will have problems – plenty good couple have problems. But you and Daniel-san, love each other very much. Work through problems. Make good team." He looked her in the eyes again. "Worth it."
"I know," murmured Amanda. "Believe me, I know."
Fact was, she did know, and she'd known for a long time, way before anxiety had started to whisper inside her brain. She did have doubts, and fears, and insecurities – but never about that.
Maybe sometimes all you needed was someone to lay out the inside of your head for you and show you what was in it. In the light of tea, sake, and good insights, everything became just that little bit clearer.
Mr. Miyagi was smiling.
"So. You better?"
Amanda gave the question some consideration.
"Yes," she said eventually with a solemn nod, "I'm better."
"There you go. Power of matcha and nihonshu. Work every time."
"Power of a good host, too," she pointed out, "and a good friend. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi."
"Ah, no thank me. Want guest room? Is late. And you getting married tomorrow."
She gave a laugh. "There is that, yeah. But I think I'll go home. Thanks for the offer, though. And the perspective."
Mr. Miyagi nodded and started getting to his feet, slower than before. The two glasses of sake and the late hour were taking their toll, like it did on Amanda.
"Thank you for company. Always welcome here. And, er, Amanda-san?"
"Yes?"
He hesitated again, although this time it didn't look like he was searching for the right English words, but rather bracing himself.
"Next month, fifty-five years since… since telegram. I know Daniel-san come – not like it when Miyagi alone that night." He cleared his throat. "If you… if you want to come, too… have tea, perhaps drink some sake in memory, then… Would be good. To have you."
Amanda's breath caught in her throat.
"I would like that," she said softly, but with feeling. "I would like that very much. Thank you."
Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, a bridge rather than a divide.
When the moment broke, Amanda retrieved her handbag and her coat to leave; but as she went to open the door she let her hand fall and turned back to him.
"Mr. Miyagi?"
"Hm?"
She bit her lip, tasting the remnant of the lipstick she'd put on before leaving her and Daniel's apartment. It felt like ages ago now.
"I, uh… I'd planned to walk down the aisle alone. You know, there's a tradition that the father of the bride gives her away, but… well, you know. He's not… He won't be there. So." Heat was rushing in her cheeks and ears which would have been convenient to blame on the sake, but a complete lie. "Would you… come with me? Give me away?"
Mr. Miyagi didn't answer straight away, and she faltered a little.
"I know you're already Daniel's best man, so it'd be a bit irregular, but—"
Mr. Miyagi made a dismissive hand gesture.
"This first American wedding Miyagi go to, not suppose to know what regular or irregular. Good excuse if someone say Oh, can't do that. But… Important for you?"
"Yes," Amanda said, the word rushing out of her along with a breath. "Yes, it'd be… it's important."
"Then Miyagi honoured to give you away, Amanda-san."
He bowed, very formal and deliberate. She bowed back in the same manner, careful to keep her eyes on his, smiling warmly.
Her heart finally at peace.
The apartment was dark and silent when she turned the key in the lock and walked in as noiselessly as she could. She hadn't let Daniel know she was coming home. He must have gone to bed by now.
The kitchen still smelled faintly of mac and cheese when she passed by the open door.
Daniel's go-to comfort food.
Amanda smiled fondly. Perhaps she hadn't been the only one in need of some reassurance tonight.
The feeling was confirmed when she stopped in the bathroom to change into her night clothes. The laundry hamper had gained a couple of additions in a few hours, ie. sweatpants and a t-shirt, though the most telling was Daniel's headband, carefully set aside to be washed by hand later. His bath towel was damp. He'd definitely been practising something more intense than slow katas and breathing exercises. Sometimes they joked that if they managed to get a bigger place – an actual house, for instance – they might include a dojo just so he wouldn't have to clear space in the living room to work on his karate.
The shapeless lump under the covers didn't move when she tiptoed into the bedroom, but as she slipped into bed she heard a mumbled, "Hey, honey. Didja ditch your game night for me?"
"Kinda," Amanda whispered back, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. "Turns out I want to spend my last night as a bachelorette with you."
"Aw. I'm flattered. And hey, who could blame ya."
Sleepy and slurred as his voice was, the grin in it was unmistakeable. The accent, too. The more tired, angry or emotional he was, the stronger the Jersey came out.
Amanda snorted, and made herself comfortable. It was easy. The texture of the pillowcase, the scent of fabric softener on the sheets, the solid warmth of Daniel as she curled up against him and buried her nose in his hair – it was all familiar, reassuring. None of that would change tomorrow, or next week, or next year. And the changes that would come – their joint career plans, getting a house, having kids one day – they would face or embrace together.
Daniel shifted until he had his arms around her, too.
"You okay?" he murmured.
Amanda looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blackout curtains, closed eyes barely visible through the tousled dark hair flopping across his forehead.
"Yeah." Quiet, heartfelt. Nothing stirred in her chest except the usual affection. "You?"
"Mhm-hm. Quiet night. Glad you're here."
Not a word about working out through possible anxieties. Daniel hated to make people worry. It was both an endearing quality and a frustrating flaw of his.
One breath, two, three, each longer than the last before his voice came again, barely audible.
"Still on for tomorrow?"
"It's a date," she whispered, and he let out a silent laugh. With possibly some relief in it. Amanda was too sleepy to tell for sure.
They fell asleep intertwined, arms and legs in a tangle, like any other night.
Notes:
"He loved you so much, Daniel." So who else teared up at that scene in 5.06? :')
(Daniel definitely glossed over a lot of details about his first trip to Okinawa. Probably made it all about Mr. Miyagi and his father, and Yukie, and Sato (and maybe a little about about Kumiko, too, but I have my doubts), and didn't even mention Chozen at all to Amanda, especially the "death match" bit. I do wonder if he filled her in by the time season 5 starts...)
Re. the locations, I picked Winnetka for Amanda's and Daniel's apartment then because it seemed like the correct neighbourhood for an up-and-coming couple in the late 1990s Valley. I'm not American (not even English-as-a-first-language) so I hope I'm not too far off the mark. Feel free to laugh at me otherwise.
The divorce rates in America are from 1999. (of course I checked ^^') I don't know about now, though.
Buckeyes are candies made of peanut butter fudge partially dipped in chocolate originating from Ohio. Because I can't write people who come from a place and not research that place's food and make it A Thing, apparently.
Nihonshu is sake - or rather, the beverage called sake in English is usually termed nihonshu in Japanese.
I really hope you liked this story if you've read it :o) If you did, please let me know!