CHAPTER 11

After Miguel's conversation with Johnny, his father gave him the first bit of fatherly advice he had ever given Miguel: get drunk. Sure it wasn't great advice. It wasn't even good advice. But the way that he had placed a supportive hand on Miguel's shoulder and quietly said reassurances in his ear… it was a feeling that Miguel had never ever had before. He appreciated EVERYTHING Johnny had done for him, he really did, but having his father, his actual father, there for him was a totally new experience. It wasn't someone who had other priorities. Whatever rivalries, friends, enemies he had disappeared right then and there as he listened to Miguel's problem and gave him some advice.

So they drank. And they drank. And they drank some more. The bartender had been a lot more lax about serving him alcohol since she had seen Miguel with his father, so Miguel was being served drink after drink after drink, feeling his inhibitions slip away, along with all of the troubles he had. Him and his father got along famously too at that point, both pretty wasted to the point where they were laughing and chuckling together like old friends. The more they spent time together, the more Miguel thought to himself… what am I going back for? I actually kind of like it here, at least for the time being. I have a father who can guarantee my safety while I'm in this city, I know the city all right by now, there's no karate dojo war, and there was none of the drama of the Valley there with him. He knew that life here was far from easy, especially in his father's line of work, but he was starting to think that he might actually prefer that to going back to the Valley. Because if he did, it would be back to his old life. His old life where every second sentence seemed to be about Karate. Fights where it turned into a literal kill or be killed situation with people who you used to consider some of your close friends. At least here it was simple. There was hierarchy. There was order. In the Valley, it was utter chaos, and Miguel could only imagine that it had gotten worse since he left, as Cobra Kai had now been given a new permanent lease of life. Upon his return, he would be thrown head-first back into this stupid battle, and he knew that it was bound to be more terrifying than ever. Cobra Kai had nothing to lose now. They had won. The 'no-fighting' truce had ended, so all three sides (Cobra Kai, Miyagi-Do and Eagle-Fang) were going to, as soon as provoked, would be trying to rip each other limb from limb. It was no longer about beating Cobra Kai, the supposed bad guys in all this. It had now become about surviving a threat that was coming from multiple sides, as Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do hated Eagle-Fang, Cobra Kai and Eagle-Fang hated Miyagi-Do, and Miyagi-Do and Eagle-Fang hated Cobra Kai. It was a vicious triangle that Miguel honestly wanted no part in anymore. If he did end up going back, how would he survive? It was no longer about training to score points. He needed to learn how to survive a fight when his back was pressed against the wall as so far, he hadn't been able to do that. The few fights where he hadn't totally dominated and was instead the inferior of his opponents, his opponents got the better of him. He needed that to change as now, his first mistake could be his last mistake.

Miguel's drinking had taken him to a really bad mental place, so he forced himself to stop, pushing away the incoming drink the bartender had handed to him. Sensing that Miguel had reached his limit, Manuel swiftly paid the tab and the pair exited the bar together. Both were totally wasted so neither could drive, which meant that the two men had to walk home. And in Juarez, at night… big mistake, even if your name was Manuel Diaz. If anything, being rich and powerful was worse, as they knew that you had money to spare. It was like the fatty seal in the ocean; you just knew his end wasn't going to be present, as he was nothing more than snacks for the sharks.

Sure enough, a couple of moments later, as the father and son walked down the dark main street, the only light coming from the very few street lamps that weren't broken, they felt themselves being roughly shoved sideways, smacking into a wall and sliding to the ground. Miguel saw stars as his head thudded against the wall, and he smacked his teeth together so hard he felt one of them chip. Normally, he'd be able to rebound from a blow like this in a couple of seconds, but in his drunken state, the tap to his head felt like that of a double-barreled shotgun. He wasn't used to being this inebriated, so he was sprawled out, utterly helpless, before the two thugs standing over him. His father, however, shot to his feet like he was still fully sober and scowled daggers at them.

"Your wallets. Now." One of them growled lowly in spanish, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small knife. It was a terrifying threat but Manuel was completely unfazed. The same couldn't be said though of his son, who was rooted to the spot in fear.

"You just made a grave mistake, my friend." Manuel snarled back at him, and the man chuckled, gripping his knife tighter.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, old man?" The man spat, Now the next part Miguel wasn't sure of as he was still woozy in pain and drunkenness, but in the blink of an eye, the two men went from towering over Manuel to lying flat on their asses, the knife now in Miguel's father's hands. Miguel had to shake himself out of his stupor and he blinked several times, rubbing his eyes, trying to come to terms with what he had just seen. The men slowly got to their feet, snarling angrily at Manuel. Manuel had a gun on him, Miguel knew that, but his father seemed to have no interest in taking it out and using it. Instead, he stood, extremely relaxed, as the men advanced towards him again.

"Okay, asshole. You asked for it." The man's friend snapped, before prowling towards Manuel like tigers on a hunt…

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However, the men soon learned that if it was like tigers on a hunt in any way, it would be if tigers were attempting to hunt Godzilla. These thugs were not bad fighters by any means. They were sure as hell better than anyone Miguel had ever fought before, but they were made to look like absolute fools by his dad. Manuel fought in a way that Miguel had never seen before in all of his time learning karate. Because this wasn't the Valley, where everyone he fought tended to fight in a similar style given that they were all training the same Martial Art. Manuel instead fought in a street fighting style that made Miguel's jaw dropped.

For a start, it hadn't been the thugs who had made the first move. It was Manuel. The man saw them stepping towards him and didn't wait for them to attack before making his first move. He lunged at the first man, his aggressive movement taking the two guys aback and rendering them temporarily unconscious, and he sent a combination of vicious punches that connected with the man's face, jaw, throat and stomach, his arms like a hurricane as they hurtled towards their targets. 5 crushing blows were enough to practically knock the guy out right there, as the man was sent crashing to the ground, only semi-conscious and in a pretty similar state to Miguel. At this point, upon seeing his friend getting taken out, the other man let out a loud bellow in anger and charged at Manuel like a bull to a matador. And once again, Miguel had to keep his eyes wide so he wouldn't blink and miss what happened next. Just as the man was starting to reach his dad, Manuel started to move towards him, putting the man off-guarded for just a split second in confusion. But a split second was all Manuel needed.

This was the most shocking part of the fight for Miguel. He saw his father do something that in 2 years of karate in the Valley, he had yet to see in any of the fights he had been a part of. As the thug raised his arm, ready to let it fly at Manuel, Miguel's father shot out his own arm and wrapped it around his opponent's arm, not unlike the vice-like grip of a boa constrictor. From here, Manuel yanked the man's arm sideways, causing him to lose his balance and spin around, and from there, it was easy for Manuel to grab him and wrap his arms around his stomach in an achingly tight rear bear hug. From there, came the finishing move, with the man tightly in his grip, Manuel threw all of his weight backwards, letting himself fall onto the ground on his back, but hurling the other man further behind him in a ruthless slam. The man landed heavily on his neck, and simply lay there, breathing but conscious. He had been knocked out cold in the single takedown.

At this point, Manuel slowly got off his back and onto his knees, wincing slightly on his pain. Landing so hard on his back had been pretty painful even in his younger days, so he didn't really use the move often, but the fact that they had come after his son had encouraged him to use every move in his repertoire. Manuel slowly rotated his shoulder - the limb that he had landed on - and he winced as he shook it off. However, as he did that, he was completely distracted and unaware of the fact that the man he had punched out earlier had come to, and was now beginning to slink towards him, catch him unawares and punish him for it. To his credit, the thug managed to achieve half of that statement. He caught Manuel completely off-guard and managed to crack him across the back of the head, causing Manuel to fall down onto the ground and have time just to roll onto his back before he felt the immense weight of the much heavier thug landing on his stomach. The man wasted no time placing his hands around Manuel's neck and beginning to choke him. The aim was to squeeze the life out of Manuel but crazily, Manuel was never in any danger of that happening. For almost as soon as the thug made the choke, Manuel wrapped his arms once again around one of the man's hands, this time creating a figure 4 lock around the man's arm. One swift jerk and a loud CRACK filled the air as the man's elbow separated, and because it caused the thug to immediately let go of Manuel, it only took a kick to the man's stomach to send him flying backwards and away from Manuel and his son.

It was only after this point that Manuel finally calmed down, going from his state of uber-concentration during the fighting, to remember the rest of the situation. Or rather who was with him. Manuel spun around and saw Miguel still sitting where he had been shoved, completely conscious at this point but merely watching his father fight with an expression filled with disbelief, shock and awe. He couldn't believe what he had just watched. His life had been in danger and had depended on a pretty drunk man taking on and beating two much larger thugs. Any other situation of this kind and the outcome would've been completely different. But somehow, Manuel had managed to single-handedly take out the two guys without even breaking a sweat.

Manuel jogged over to Miguel and quickly helped him to his feet.

"Miguel, you okay?" He asked, concerned about his son. Miguel nodded, a part of him still in shock.

"Yeah. Um… yeah. I'm uh… I'm fine. You?" Miguel stammered. Manuel shrugged and nodded.

"I'm getting old. My back's not what it used to be but I'll live." Manuel replied, stretching his back slightly as the pair then continued to walk down the road, heading back home.

"Dad, that, uh… that was… that was amazing!" Miguel exclaimed. Manuel chuckled.

"Thanks, Miguel." He murmured. Miguel shook his head.

"No, like that was really, really incredible! I've never seen any fighting style like that before." Miguel commented. Manuel shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, I mean I never learned Karate or Martial Arts like you did. I just learned how to fight on the streets. Picked it up from there. Guess I got pretty good at it learning how to protect myself and my mom living here in Juarez."

Miguel nodded, deep in thought. This. This was what he needed. This was what would keep him alive as the Valley erupted into whatever chaos it unravelled into between Cobra Kai, Miyagi-Do and Eagle-Fang. There was no tournament or anything. Miguel knew that it was going to go from Rocky to Hunger Games. Hell, it probably already had while he'd been gone. He needed a way to defend himself as having a prior injury already put him at a massive disadvantage in any fight he got into now. Everyone knew… when fighting Miguel, if you have to, target his back. It had been a crutch worse than the pain he was currently experiencing because of the injury as he was having to defend his back twice as well to prevent being hit there. This was what would help him level the playing field, finally get back on an even performance level with Robby and Hawk. He didn't want to abuse it, use it to ambush anyone. He just wanted, needed some more moves in his arsenal to help him protect himself. So Miguel looked at his father and took a deep breath before asking…

"Can you teach me?"