Hawk bought them tlacoyos and Cokes from a street vendor for lunch. With their styrofoam boxes in hand, they found a place to sit against the side of a nearby convenience store at end of the block. A few people passing by gave them a cursory glance, but otherwise, they blended right in with the rest of busy city life, not worth so much as a second look, as normal as anyone else despite their status as tourists.

Miguel remembered a time not too long ago when hanging out with Hawk meant it was impossible to blend in with a crowd.

While he chewed on his food, each bite slower than the last, Miguel's eyes settled on Hawk's buzzed hair. It was so short. He just couldn't get used to it looking like that. He couldn't remember it even being that short when he first met Eli. He'd gotten so used to the mohawk, through all its color variations, that sometimes he'd forgotten that Hawk had to style it up every morning, that it wasn't naturally like that. And now….

"Could you please not look at me like that?"

Miguel blinked, coming back to the present, now noticing the intense glare Hawk was leveling at him from under his deep brow. Recovering, Miguel smiled and rolled his shoulders innocently. "Like what?" he asked, taking a big bite out of his tlacoyo.

But Hawk must have seen through his nonchalance act. "I got enough of those kinds of looks from Sam and Chris and the other guys at Miyagi-Do," he explained, turning his attention back to his food when his voice had cracked at the last word. More firmly, he said, "I don't want your pity, either."

"Hawk, I didn't mean, I wasn't…." But Miguel knew it was too late. Eli was probably used to getting looks of pity most of his life, he knew what those looked like.

Hell, he knew what those looked like, too. He must've had the same look on his face that he'd seen from countless others whenever they saw him being pushed around in his wheelchair. The ones that made him feel small, frail, pitiable. He hadn't enjoyed those looks, either. In fact, he'd hated them.

So Miguel lowered his head, letting out a soft sigh, and went back to eating his lunch again. Yet, now that Hawk had mentioned it, Miguel wondered if that's what his friend really thought. Did Eli think he pitied him? Did he pity him?

Well, maybe it was best to change topics. But to what? There was always the reason why he was here in the first place. He could tell Hawk about his quest to find his father, about how he'd been hitting roadblocks ever since he'd gotten here. His first stop had been to the last known location, the one he'd found online. An old apartment. But his dad hadn't been there, the landlord told him he'd left months ago. So Miguel was back to practically square one.

But, shit, if Eli could track him all the way to Mexico City, maybe he could be a big help finding his father with those hawk eyes of his.

But then again, if he told Hawk about his father, then that would open the can of worms about Sensei Lawrence, about Robby….

You think my dad cares about you? He's trying to feel better for screwing up with me!

No. He didn't need to unload that on Hawk. Besides, he wasn't ready for that right now. Better that he just ask Hawk some of the questions he had on his mind, ones from last night he would have liked to ask if Eli hadn't cut off the conversation so quickly to go to sleep.

Turning his head to Hawk, Miguel took a swig from his Coke and asked, "So, um, how was having Mr. LaRusso as a full-time Sensei?"

Picking at his food in the styrofoam box on his lap, Hawk leaned his head back against the brick building behind them. "Y'know, pretty much the same as when we taught all us. Well, not as much koi fishing this time around. To be honest, I kinda missed touching scale like that, it was fun. But Mr. LaRusso was…nice."

Remembering what Hawk confessed to him the previous night, his belief that Miyagi-Do had used him for a win against Robby, Miguel latched onto his last words. "Yeah, Mr. LaRusso's a pretty cool guy. Oh, like a couple months ago, my mom's car broke down. Not only did he pay for it, but he took me to the car lot to learn how to fix it myself. And then he gave me a driving lesson. Like, Sensei wouldn't even let me behind the wheel of his van, but Mr. LaRusso let me drive all the way down Ventura. Introduced me to soft rock, too."

A soft smile had been swelling up Miguel's cheeks while he recalled that day. It ebbed, however, when he glanced beside him to see Hawk simply staring. Clearing his throat, he asked, "So, uh, what about you? Did Mr. LaRusso ever give you one of those, y'know, heart-to-hearts?"

"Mr. LaRusso didn't really talk to me one-on-one very much," Hawk admitted, shoulders slumping as he stuffed the last bite of tlacoyo in his mouth. He tossed the empty styrofoam box to his other side aimlessly until they could throw their trash away later, wiping his hands before resting them on his drawn-up knees.

"Oh." Miguel waited a minute, giving Hawk a chance to elaborate. But it didn't happen, his friend just picked up his Coke and took a sip. So Miguel went on. "I-I just thought, y'know, since you switched dojos, there must've been something about Mr. LaRusso that you liked more…."

Eli opened and closed his mouth. From where his hands clasped his bony knees, he began to fidget with his fingers. His old anxious habit.

When he opened his mouth the second time, he admitted to Miguel, "At first, I didn't want to go to Miyagi-Do. But Demetri convinced me to come back. Like I said, Miyagi-Do needed someone who could fight Robby. So I helped Mr. LaRusso beat him."

Miguel's eyebrows had knitted themselves together. Was that really all Hawk had to say about Mr. LaRusso? He'd assumed Mr. LaRusso must have stepped in to help Hawk after…. But it didn't really sound like it, from the way Hawk was describing his time in the dojo. It was so weird. Mr. LaRusso had gotten so hand's-on with him, made him feel like he'd really understood his needs. He thought he might've done the same for Hawk.

Chewing on the last of his lunch, Miguel mulled on those thoughts for a long minute. He had one other question he would have liked to ask. Except he was afraid to know the answer.

Was he the reason Hawk switched dojos? Was it because he didn't…?

Against his best wishes, Miguel's eyes drifted to Hawk's buzzed hair again, but he quickly dropped them down to his food and grabbed his Coke when his friend turned to look at him.

Hawk's mouth twitched in what looked like a moment's hesitation of his own before he said, "Hope Sensei Lawrence wasn't too pissed about me switching sides that close to the Tournament."

Miguel's hand went ice cold around his Coke bottle. And he tossed a hasty drink back for a hearty chug, wishing he didn't hear Sensei Lawrence's words from the All-Valley ringing in his ears at that exact second.

Take his ass out.

He's fighting for LaRusso. He picked his side.

Whose side are you on?

Swallowing his drink and licking his bottom lip nervously, Miguel could only mutter helplessly in reply, "Uh, he…well, actually he…."

Then he gave up when he saw Hawk's eyes fall back to where his hands rested on his knees. Miguel guessed his face must have given something away all on its own because a dry chuckle escaped from his friend's throat. "Heh, it's okay, I get it," Hawk said with a smile, leaning his head back against the rusty-red bricks again. "He wasn't happy about me betraying him for Kreese, either."

Miguel frowned. He didn't know what else to say. He wasn't going to sit there and lie to Hawk. He still didn't understand how Sensei Lawrence could say what he did there on the sidelines before his and Hawk's match in the semi-finals. What, had Sensei thought he would throw the match? To remove Eagle Fang from the All-Valley Tournament on purpose? Out of pity? Hawk would've killed him if he did that. Of course he would've given his best in the fight. So why would Sensei even say something that callous?

He didn't know. And if he didn't know, how could he ever hope to explain it to Hawk, either?

Giving up on the endeavor, Miguel tossed his Coke back for another deep swig.