CHAPTER 56

"Anything to say to me this time?" Miguel whispered into Robby's ear as Robby felt those eerily familiar arms around his neck in a vice-like grip. "You going to beg like you did last time? Plead with me to let you go? Well guess what Robby, this time I'm not fucking letting you go."

Miguel had truly snapped. Something inside him, a dark, animalistic monster that he had managed to bury inside him up until this point, came creeping out. He couldn't control it. In fact, he felt like he had less control over his own body than he did when he was black-out drunk. It was an out-of-body experience that he was watching himself do, and it was something he hadn't experienced in his entire life.

Robby spluttered and gasped for breath, but was finding it harder and harder to breathe as his air pipe was constricted.

"No? You don't have anything else to say?" Miguel murmured in a low, deadly tone. "Fine."

Suddenly Miguel, with his arms still wrapped around Robby's throat, pulled the other boy up so they were both standing and facing the glass mirror that Miguel had just thrown Robby into, and he turned them so that they were face to face with it.

"I want you to look at this, okay?" Miguel whispered. "I want you to look at this and take a mental picture. This is what happens when you try to fuck with me. So tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, or next or next month or even next year, if you suddenly have the urge to go after me again, I want you to remember this moment. This is when you, Robby Keene, lost."

Robby could feel himself slipping away from consciousness, but Miguel wasn't done talking.

"You know everyone tried to make excuses for you. Johnny. Sam. All of Miyagi-Do. They said that what you did to me was an accident. And you know maybe it was. Maybe kicking me over a fucking two storey balcony was an accident. But if it was, where was that apology big guy? If it truly was a freak accident, where was the remorse? Instead, you were trying to pick a fight with me the first moment you saw me after."

Robby couldn't respond. He didn't have the energy to fight the choke anymore, let alone talk. He was now just waiting for unconsciousness to swallow him up.

"But what I think happened is that even if it was an accident, it wasn't one you were unhappy with. You won. For a while. Even though you went to juvie, I had been taken out of the equation. That's when I realised… you and I are more similar than I think we'd both like to believe." Miguel remarked. "Because we're the only people who see our rivalry for what it truly is… a war. This isn't about who stole whose girlfriend. This isn't about who stole whose sensei. Who stole whose father. No… this is a war, Robby. A feud that won't end until one of us is down and out. For good. And I'll tell you something right now… I'm not going to let that be me."

At that moment, as Miguel's voice trailed off, he looked up in the mirror and stared at its reflection. There he was, a barely conscious Robby in his grip. But when Miguel looked closer, he wasn't looking at himself, he was looking at Robby. He looked into Robby's eyes and saw a look of not hatred but terror in the boy's eyes. Miguel froze for a moment. He realised that someone had written this song before. He had been in this exact situation before. And it wasn't 3 days ago at the party. It was a bit further back, nearly a month and a half ago at this point…

"Come on, don't be a little bitch! Fucking attack me!"

It was a Sunday night in Juarez and Miguel and his father were standing in the living room. They were supposed to be having training that night, but instead, Manuel had walked into the house, absolutely shitfaced. It had been a shitty day for him at work, so he had gone straight to the bar afterwards to drink his troubles away. However, that meant that once he had gotten home, he wasn't exactly in the best state of mind, his anger from the day pretty evident as he practically kicked the door open. He definitely wasn't in the right mindset to be teaching Miguel.

"Dad, we don't have to do this. Go get some rest." Miguel implored him. Manuel scowled daggers at him.

"I told you. I'm fine." Manuel snarled. "Now attack me, you fucking shit."

Miguel sighed and did as he was told. The sparring match commenced, though it wasn't much of a fight. Though Manuel was still physically stronger than Miguel by a pretty large amount, in his drunken state, he was extremely sloppy. For as long as Miguel continued to dodge his father's slow, sloppy punches, he would be able to win this. And he did, parrying one of his dad's punches to throw him off balance and then sweeping the older man's leg, sending the man crashing down onto his back and groaning in pain. Miguel stood over him, triumphant. He had won! Sure it had been when his father was far from his strongest but still… he had finally managed to beat his dad in a fight!

Miguel held out a hand to help his father up, but Manuel smacked it away and shot to his feet extraordinarily fast for someone so drunk.

"The fuck was that?!" Manuel growled at him. Miguel looked at him, confused.

"What?" Miguel asked.

"You take me down then you just stand around like a bitch? The fuck is wrong with you?! FINISH THE FUCKING FIGHT!" Manuel growled, prowling closer to his son.

"The… the fight was over though. I won, right?" Miguel stammered. Manuel chuckled mirthlessly.

"The fight was over, was it?" Manuel laughed. "And that's why I was still conscious and not at all hurt. NO THE FIGHT ISN'T FUCKING OVER! The fight's not over until one of you is no longer able to immediately get back up!"

Miguel nodded, getting slightly nervous at his father's outburst. He was used to having an aggressive Sensei - Lord knows he had been through enough of that with Johnny - but something about this seemed different. With Johnny, at least Miguel always knew that there was a limit. But with his father, he wasn't so sure…

"Yeah, look, I know that, dad. But this is just sparring so I…"

"Just sparring?!" Manuel snapped. "This is supposed to help you survive a threat to your life, but you'll never be able to learn how to do that if you keep acting like a weak-ass bitch!"

"I'm… I'm sorry." Miguel stammered, looked down. Manuel was now mere inches from Miguel, standing face to face with him, and the reeking stench of alcohol on his breath nearly made Miguel gag. Manuel looked at him, disgusted.

"Soft. Just like your mom." He spat. "Guess I didn't give you a proper lesson. You see, the key to a solid hit is all about making… contact."

As Manuel said the final word, in an instant, his arms was pulled back and then his fist went clattering right onto Miguel's jaw. Not expecting the hit coming, Miguel was sent flying backwards, crashing into the wall behind him and then stumbling forwards, right back towards his fuming father.

"It's all about form!"

THUD!

Another punch rocked Miguel, this time to the solar plexus sending him to the ground, lying on his back, panting and spluttering in pain. But Manuel wasn't done yet. He grabbed Miguel by the shirt and pulled him up slightly with his left hand.

"Use the whole fucking arm for power!"

THUD!

Manuel's right hand sent another punch to Miguel's face, mercilessly beating his own son. Miguel was helpless to defend himself, as the wind had been taken out of his sails, and he was being whaled on much a much bigger, much stronger, even if slightly drunker man.

"You got that?!"

THUD!

"You understand me?!"

THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!

"Dad!" The pain eventually became too much for Miguel and he cried out for his father to stop, begging for mercy. Hearing his voice temporarily halted Manuel's flying fists, and he looked down to see his son cowering before him, a large gash having opened up on the side of his face. He leaned down and slowly wiped away the blood with his hand, seeing it and shaking his head.

"That's nothing. See… soft. Just like I said." He spat, before turning on his heel and storming out of the living room, leaving Miguel silently sobbing in a heap on the ground…

Within 72 hours, Miguel had fled Juarez, but despite that, the memory had remained in Miguel's head and probably would do so for the rest of his life. He would never forget the fear that had been in his eyes, and the sheer emotionlessness that had been in his father's. And now staring into the mirror at him and Robby, Miguel was taken back to that long night in Mexico, right before he had decided to flee. He saw his own terror from that night in Robby, and he saw that cold, almost reptilian-like look from his father's eyes in his own.

As Miguel was forced to relive the traumatic experience of that night with his father, the night that had encouraged him to turn tail and get home as fast as he could, Miguel was rendered motionless. His arms loosened and Robby slipped out of his grasp, but Miguel didn't even notice. He couldn't breathe. Every breath was coming out in short gasps as despite not being the one who had been choked, he felt like his airways were closing up. He started to tremble, hyperventilating and sweating ferociously, to the point that he didn't notice another figure entering the washroom. All he had time to see in the mirror was a familiar mohawked head walking up behind him, before Miguel felt a clobbering blow to the back of his head…

Miguel felt like he had blacked out for a moment. In fact, he probably had lost consciousness for a couple of seconds, because when he awoke, he heard voices talking above him. However, he was still struggling and gasping for breath, his legs having given out from under him and causing him to collapse onto the ground, so he couldn't even turn to face them.

"The fuck happened to you?" He heard Hawk asked Robby.

"What do you think?" Robby snapped back in reply, having fully regained consciousness and now filled with more fury towards the hispanic teenager than ever. Twice in 72 hours Miguel had nearly killed him and it had brought their rivalry to a new level of animosity unimaginable to anyone else. There was nothing Miguel could do as he felt both Robby and Hawk begin to kick at Miguel's coughing and spluttering body, vultures picking apart their decomposing prey. There was literally nothing Miguel could do to defend himself. He felt motionless, frozen to the spot, doomed for his body to do nothing but feel the pain of the hits raining down on him.

Eventually, just as Miguel was nearing unconsciousness, Robby and Hawk stepped back and stared at the carnage they had caused. The bathroom was absolutely wrecked, and lying in the middle was Miguel, unsteady breathing the only sign that he was still alive.

"Right, well we've made our point. Now let's get the fuck out of here." Hawk snapped. Robby nodded and walked over to Miguel, grabbing Miguel by the hair in the exact way Miguel had to him earlier and forcing the boy to face him.

"You think this is bad? You continue with Cobra Kai and dare to lay a hand on us or our friend… you're going to be in for a hell of a lot worse." Robby snarled, before turning around and walking towards the exit of the bathroom, Hawk following close behind, the two of them leaving Miguel a beaten, bruised heap on the ground…