Chapter One: Not the Sensei he Was
…
"Fear does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!"
"Pain does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!"
"Defeat does not exist in this dojo. Does it!?"
"No Sensei!"
John Kreese stumbled along the streets of North Hollywood, California, a broken, unshaven, and tired man.
The most painful part of the memories from just a year prior was that they still seemed so long ago.
The trophies. The glory.
The fighters, the Cobra Kais, the boys. The boys.
The crowd was cheering at the top of their lungs. Hundreds of people roaring as Daniel sparred Johnny for the title of All Valley Under 18 Champion.
With a tremendous crash Daniel clattered to the ground from a sneaky and rule violating jab to his jaw. Johnny Lawrence kiai'd like a lion.
They were killers. Kreese could still hear his class roar with every strike like it was yesterday.
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
"Ais!"
"Kiai!"
Every karate tournament in Southern California feared Cobra Kai with a terror unlike any other.
Cobra Kai karate taught young men between the ages of twelve and seventeen how to be ferocious, tough, and merciless.
Unfortunately for John Kreese, bad news and disappointment awaited him inside his dilapidated karate dojo.
But at least it was still a dojo.
…
June 2018
…
Now Lankershim's Cobra Kai dojo was a flower shop. A flower shop run by a smiling woman wearing Pride Month t-shirts.
Decades later, John Kreese was largely the same man.
But he was older, much older.
Kreese sighed.
A flower shop employee spoke to Kreese.
"Hey! We've got a four for one special ending just next week."
If only John Kreese had the money or use for flowers these days.
Kreese merely walked past him, and slipped away into the passing crowd, just another homeless man in Los Angeles.
Moments later, a bitter rock, almost as large as a well sized brick, was thrown quickly through the windows of the flower shop that replaced Lankershim Boulevard's old premier Cobra Kai karate dojo from the 1980s.
A smirking John Kreese walked away, at least he'd have one happy memory from a very terrible month.
…
John Kreese found a park bench to sleep on that night.
"Hey."
A police officer tapped his nightstick on Kreese's chest.
"You gonna move or do I have to book you tonight? The station's holding cell is even less fun than this bench I promise you bud."
Kreese quietly shook his head and even nodded in respect to the officer. He merely tipped his cap and watched Kreese trudge off into the night. He could try to apply for a room at his old homeless center. But he'd picked one fight too many.
He walked around a bit aimlessly, and remembered what tiny Johnny Lawrence was like as a child.
A crying and sniveling boy when he was a blue belt. He wasn't a champion yet, he wasn't tough.
And now?
Kreese sat quietly on a small trash can, watching a tram pass through downtown Los Angeles aimlessly.
How could he have loved karate so dearly? To have the sport pass by him so quickly?
Kreese took out his wallet, still holding an expired driver's license from 1988, and checked all the money he had.
Forty two dollars in cash. A client of his, the last and only real one he'd had in years, had hired him for a few hundreds bucks a month. And now he was gone.
He went to a nearby train station and found that all his money would only get him as far as Indiana.
Kreese shrugged. Anywhere but Los Angeles.
He had no reason to stay in the city anymore. No reason but very painful memories, estranged friends, and one very unhappy client, the last person to possibly ever pay John Kreese a semi-decent wage in cash.
Kreese was escorted out of the train station though, he didn't have the nicest look to him and it was closing quickly.
At one A'M, Kreese was able to find a quiet dumpster to sleep behind in an alleyway where no one was around. And then he rested.
The next day, he'd go out east and try to find work or something.
Cars drove past as he closed his eyes.
He wanted to go anywhere, do anything, but stay in the Valley.
…
Daniel LaRusso however, did not live a miserable life without any food, money, or shelter of any kind.
He woke up in a luxurious home in Encino, with a beautiful wife sleeping next to his side in his king size bed, two children, and an entire award winning car dealership to his name.
His karate trophies were tucked away in his home dojo, which was oddly not in storage anymore.
Daniel woke up, made some coffee listening to the morning news on his iPhone, and then went to work.
His wife, Amanda, was helping him in the office, typing on the computer while Daniel quietly watched his morning customers enter the dealership.
"Well, would you look at that."
Daniel turned around and gazed at his wife.
"Lucas reapplied to be an intern." Amanda clicked her mouse.
Daniel shrugged. "I'll deal with it later."
Amanda looked at Daniel somewhat reproachfully. "You're gonna reject a 15 year old over a karate tournament?"
"There's." Daniel sighed. "A lot more to it than that."
"I don't think there is." Amanda shrugged. "So he picked a different karate teacher than you. He still won last week."
"I promise you, if it was that simple, I'd have Luke back here working again."
"Honey." Amanda cleared her throat. "He was one of the best employees we had here in a while. He was diligent, proactive, smart, great customer service, always kind. I wish some of the adult employees were as mature as him sometimes."
Daniel's cousin Louie and a fellow LaRusso auto employee Anoush both were laughing at a bawdy internet meme on Louie's screen.
Amanda grimaced for a second. "I miss him more and more by the day."
"It's not just a karate tournament."
"Then what is it?" asked Amanda. "Honestly you never told me nor the kids why suddenly we couldn't talk to him."
Daniel opened his mouth but Amanda interrupted calmly.
"The full details."
"It's honestly not something I'd be able to forgive."
"He's fifteen," Amanda repeated. "What did he do?"
"He um." Daniel sighed.
Daniel grumbled before he left the office. "I'll take care of it later I promise, just, don't accept the application."
"Sure thing honey," Amanda muttered quietly.
The rest of the day, Daniel LaRusso mostly used karate as a gimmick to sell more cars.
Louie told mostly fake stories about Daniel using karate to get him out of sticky situations at bars, and how he even went to the All Valley Karate tournament just the month prior.
It was starting to be a very hot summer day, and the floor was looking very dirty.
Daniel noted how the lobby floor of LaRusso auto wasn't as shiny as he wanted it to.
The employee on duty was looking at his phone more often than he should've been. Even absurdly wealthy teenagers worked harder.
Daniel sighed and continued with his day.
He needed to visit an old friend.
…
Mr. Miyagi was buried in a very large cemetery near Orange County.
Daniel LaRusso refreshed the flowers near Mr. Miyagi's grave.
"Hey there."
Daniel did not receive a response. Not even from the wind.
"You always told me once about forgiveness. But you also told me something else, about."
Daniel sighed.
"About John Kreese."
"Eeeeyaaughh!"
John Kreese was trying to punch Mr. Miyagi through the mouth. He instead shattered his fist against the glass pane of a car window.
Instead of even knocking Kreese out for trying to hurt him, Mr. Miyagi instead honked him on the nose, and tossed him over while he was on his knees. Then he winked at Daniel.
His All Valley trophy still in his hand, Daniel limped while speaking to Miyagi.
"You could've killed him couldn't you?"
"Hai." Miyagi responded calmly.
"Well why didn't you then?"
"Because Daniel-san, for person with no forgiveness in heart, living even worse punishment than death." Miyagi said with a nod.
Daniel frowned.
"I had my first karate student in years. Someone who seemed to really enjoy and appreciate your lessons."
Daniel sighed.
"And he betrayed my trust. He knew John Kreese was a terrible person, among the worst around. And he wanted me to forgive him, to trust he was doing the right thing."
Daniel sighed, rubbing his eye.
"And I just feel lost. What am I gonna do with this kid?"
He shook his head.
"I know, I wasn't the easiest growing up. But how could someone seek my forgiveness after they knew who Kreese was and then lied to me about it?"
Daniel bowed his head from his kneeling position in front of Miyagi's grave.
When he returned to his car. He felt something strange looking back at his tombstone.
Daniel remembered when Miyagi had rehealed his bonsai, Miyagi told Daniel to do karate.
"His own way."
…
Cobra Kai OST: Bonsai Lessons
…
Daniel remembered his mother coming to this exact same home decades prior.
His mom had a car so beat up that he and she had to push it to take him and Ali Mills on a date to Golf 'N Stuff back in the 1980s.
He knocked on the door of the Mills Manor, the same house he used to pick up Ali from when he just moved to LA from New Jersey. Daniel even remember what Ali was like, and the day at the country club when he spilled spaghetti all over himself.
A much older father of Ali Mills answered the door, fixing his glasses.
"Oh hey Daniel." the two men shook hands. "Good to see you again. It's been a while, how can I help you?"
"I was hoping to talk to Lucas?"
"Oh sure. He's up in his room!" he turned. "Luke!"
He called up again.
"Luuuuke!"
Lucas was not the spitting image of his mother, Ali Mills at all, but rather a fair skinned, dark haired teenager with light blue eyes and a very deep voice.
"Yeah?" he leaned on the doorway, his grandfather standing just behind him.
"Can we talk?" Daniel asked with a small smile.
Lucas clearly didn't want to, but his grandfather nodded.
"Yeah." he sighed.
Lucas and Daniel sat in the large backyard of the Mills' home, watching a golden retriever running around.
They sat largely in silence for a moment, just looking at Lucas' pool.
"I have to admit. I thought you'd be happier after winning the forty ninth All Valley."
"You sure weren't happy for me."
Daniel was going to respond but then he paused.
Lucas shook his head, fixing a grey t-shirt. "How could you shut me out like that?"
"You knew what John Kreese was."
"You never told me everything about him."
"Because you weren't supposed to know," Daniel muttered. "Mr. Miyagi could forgive just about anyone. But John Kreese was one person he never let out of his sight."
Lucas scoffed. "But none of that was my fault."
"I know," Daniel said. "Which is why it pained me more than anything to have to give you the cold shoulder."
Lucas rolled his eyes.
"I know you're not a cruel person. I've only known you for a year, but you never gave me the impression you genuinely wanted to harm someone else."
Daniel fixed his spot on the lawn chair next to Lucas.
"You've got Ali's heart. That's for sure."
Lucas nodded a bit.
"You're just a very competitive person, and there's nothing wrong with that."
"Sure felt there was something wrong with it when I trained with you. It's like nothing made sense, I understood the karate techniques. But there was always some hidden meaning, some metaphor." Lucas' face twisted into a bit of anger. "Like I was messed up for wanting to compete."
"Mr. Miyagi always was against competing for sport." Daniel raised a finger. "But what he was truly against. Was karate being taught the wrong way, John Kreese, taught karate the wrong way."
Lucas merely listened in silence.
"Someone used to bully me pretty hard in highschool. But he was never that bad of a person all said and done. But his Sensei? Was the worst there is."
Daniel explained. "Unpredictable."
John Kreese swept a student off his legs in class for not paying attention, faking a massive punch to the nose.
"Violent."
John Kreese taught a teenage Bobby Brown to finish his opponent by striking his shoulder blade.
"And, yes. Genuinely cruel."
He choked a teenage Johnny Lawrence in the parking lot next to the All Valley arena for losing to Daniel minutes prior.
Daniel looked at Lucas. "What I mean to say is that I'm sure he was a fine Sensei to you. But he was dangerous."
"He could've changed."
"People like him don't change Lucas. Mr. Miyagi would've wanted me to never let you near that man."
Daniel stood up. "I'm sorry for everything that happened between us. But I promise you I'll forgive you entirely, as soon as you promise to never go near him again."
Lucas frowned, thinking to himself for a second.
"I know you don't like Miyagi-Do's philosophy. I know you barely had the patience for anything but the actual karate. But until I have that promise, I can't begin to trust you again. Even if you're just a kid."
Daniel and Lucas exchanged a small nod, and then he left his house.
…
John Kreese was more than ready to leave LA.
But he had one last thing to do.
He used the last bit of money he had to buy a train ticket, but before that he'd use the tiny fraction of cash he had left over to smoke a nice cigar, and reminisce.
Kreese walked into a small strip mall in Reseda that night just a mere couple of hours before he boarded his train to depart LA for good.
He paid a tubby Latino man working at a liquor store the last few dollars Lucas Schwarber had given to him to buy a cigar, and a lighter.
When he walked out, he began to smoke it looking over the parking lot.
He remembered Johnny Lawrence losing decades prior.
"What did you say?" a young middle aged John Kreese asked.
"I said I did my best!" roared Johnny, waving his second place trophy about.
"You're nothing, you lost, you're a loser!"
Johnny shook his head. "No, you're the loser man!"
"Oh I'm the loser huh?"
"Yeah."
Kreese broke Johnny's trophy, wood and bronze and all with his bare hands, throwing it aside. "Now who's the loser?"
"You know you're really sick man!" A seventeen year old Johnny Lawrence said loudly.
After several protests, the boys from Cobra Kai couldn't stop their Sensei.
He was choking Johnny Lawrence out like he was some Vietcong in a jungle who tried to kill him, not a teenager who just lost a karate tournament.
"How does second place feel now huh?"
Kreese kept smoking his cigar in silence.
The memory didn't remotely shake him. He barely even seemed to regret it when a group of highschool boys walked past.
He had no idea Johnny was enjoying a nice meal at home at his apartment with his son instead of eating his dinner from a strip mall liquor store.
One of them blew their vape in Kreese's direction before they walked into the liquor store. The man found it amusing, almost nodding as he chuckled quietly.
The leader of the group of boys was trying to buy beer from the man Kreese had just bought a cigar from.
He was a Korean teen followed by a redhead, a frizzy fat boy, and another pal of his.
"Lemme get a packet or Marlboros too bro." the frizzy fat boy put a pack of beers on the counter.
The man at the register could tell how fake his ID was.
"Are you sure," he asked. "Kyler?"
"Yeah my dude, I'm sure." he smiled widely.
A skinny Latino boy walked over, speaking in Spanish to get help buying something for his grandmother.
"Me puedes ayudar con algo? Necesito un poco de Pepto Bismol para mi abuela."
"Claro hermano. Este torpe no entiende como comparse un ID propio. Pija chiquita." he glanced between Kyler and the boy he was chuckling with.
Kyler didn't seem to appreciate this at all, and started shoving him outside of the store. The man behind the register didn't blink an eye.
A commotion started, one that resulted in Kyler dumping Pepto Bismol all over him outside the liquor store.
Kreese didn't care at all, he kept smoking his cigar as if he was watching some daytime TV boredly.
The boys laughed and kept shoving him around, until eventually he was punched right in the gut.
"That's brute Ky!" the fat one said.
Kreese kept watching the scene calmly, continuing to smoke his cigar calmly.
The Latino boy caught his breath. "Man what the hell?"
"Freaking idiot!" Kyler picked him up by his shoulders. "You blow up my spot. You get taught!"
"Nice Ky! Show him who's boss!" another one of his friends said.
Kreese thought it was absurd and then watched him get to his feet.
Out of desperation or rage, he tried tackling Kyler to the ground. It failed completely and the beating that ensued was equally one sided, but it greatly amused Kreese.
He even seemed to remember fighting bullies behind the old diner he used to work at, fighting with just his wits and a trash can lid.
Kreese sighed, having seen enough.
"Alright alright alright. That's more than enough."
Everyone froze, Kyler's redheaded friend looked around. "Man what?" he said stupidly.
Kreese picked up the kid quietly. "You alright. What's your name?"
"Miguel." he coughed, Pepto Bismol still in his hair.
"Yo man this ain't none of your business." Kyler raised his eyebrows.
"Word." the fat kid took a hit off the redhead's vape.
Kreese raised his eyebrows. "Look I enjoy dishing out a beating as much as the next guy. It's getting late, I've got a bus to catch. Why don't you all leave?"
"Or what?"
Kreese just realized what he was doing.
He wanted to properly beat someone down before he could leave the Valley all but consequence free in just a couple of hours.
"Or else."
Kyler and his friends acted scared, laughing.
"Come on." Kyler laughed. "Hit me with your best shot old man."
"Knock him over with your walker gramps!"
Kreese nodded slowly, looking away.
…
Cobra Kai OST: Strike First
…
Without warning or mercy, Kreese put Kyler into a wrist lock.
He gasped in pain, and then Kreese loudly cracked every bone in Kyler's wrist with a POP.
"There's my best shot. Never start a fight you can't finish," he growled with a grin.
Then Kreese put out his still lit cigar right on the skin of Kyler's cheek right beneath his eye.
Kreese tossed Kyler aside and his three friends didn't know how to react.
Kyler was all but crying in pain from the snapped wrist he had, and Kyler roared orders wincing.
"Get 'im Brucks please!" he screamed.
"I got you man!"
Brucks was kicked right in the knee, Miguel could not believe his eyes.
A senior citizen was moving like some sort of ninja.
Kreese had no flexibility and far less physical strength than all three boys he was fighting.
But he had lived on the streets for decades, and served in Special Forces in Vietnam.
He could back kick, back fist, punch, pull. He was merciless, cold, and always struck first.
The redhead in Kyler's group took a knee directly to the groin as soon as he tried grabbing Kreese, the last one was headbutted to the ground.
Brucks attempted to punch Kreese with his back turned only to receive a back kick to the sternum for his troubles.
The boys couldn't touch him, Kreese could win the fight with his eyes closed.
He used the environment to his advantage, dragged Brucks by his face across a cement wall with a knee directly to his liver to finish him off.
When Kyler, blind with rage at having his wrist broken and humiliated, ran at Kreese to punch or grab him. Anything. He was thrown over Kreese's knee.
Kreese employed a classic karate hip throw and slammed Kyler onto the pavement as hard as he could.
He used another throw to throw the last two boys so hard together their foreheads collided at full speed.
John Kreese fought dirty, but he was facing four younger and stronger opponents, he had to use his techniques, use his environment, and properly leave a last reminder to the Valley he was sick of it.
Kreese picked up his cigar, twisting his shoe on the snapped wrist of Kyler.
He wailed in pain at the top of his lungs and then Kreese spat in front of him.
"Let this be a lesson. For the rest of your life. You start a fight, make sure you finish it."
…
Kreese might as well have knocked Kyler out for good measure, but left the boys there groaning on the ground quietly.
He smiled at himself, not even acknowledging Miguel when he slipped away into the night.
Miguel might as well have not even been there, it was just an excuse to beat Kyler and his friends livid.
Miguel didn't know whether to be terrified or impressed.
Kyler looked like he wouldn't be able to use his left hand for anything for a few solid weeks, and Kreese was probably at least seventy years old from the looks of him.
He had beaten four young men ruthlessly admittedly but Miguel was shocked.
How could his savior be so merciless? He only seemed to be interested in him to instigate the fight.
Miguel then rubbed the Pepto Bismol at the top of his head.
"Whoa." he muttered to himself.
He then ran off home too before he could stand around awkwardly amidst Kyler and his friends.
…
The following morning at 9 AM sharp, before he could board his train, Kreese was stopped by two officers.
"What'd I do?"
"Assault and battery of four minors. Turn and around and put your hands behind your back please."
Looking like he already knew the drill, Kreese complied with his demands and was read his rights.
Within a few hours, he was put within a holding cell, and Kreese sighed.
He was sure he timed his attacks better.
There was no way the kids he attacked had wealthy connections right?
Kreese looked around the holding cell. It almost looked like a second home to him, extremely familiar.
However, after a few more hours, an officer swung by holding a clipboard.
"John Kreese?"
He stood up off the bench next to others in the holding cell.
"Yes?"
"You made bail, congratulations. I'll be taking you out for some paperwork in about fifteen minutes."
"Who was it?"
"Someone who clearly doesn't value a whole lot of money." the officer eyed Kreese up and down with disgust.
…
Walking out into the June Southern California sun with increasingly aged eyesight, Kreese chuckled.
"I see you lost the ponytail."
He looked a little closer, still squinting with his hand raised.
"Do I know you?"
"Ali took me to one of your karate classes back in the day. She was still with Johnny back then."
Oddly, Kreese recognized him.
"Frank Mills?"
They shook hands. "Pleasure."
"Why'd you. I mean why would you-"
They spoke calmly on the front steps of the police precinct.
Frank explained. "I can manage to bring this whole thing down to a misdemeanor and get you off with half a year of community service."
"Really?"
"You broke a sixteen year old kid's hand John. The last you can do is say thank you."
"No I mean, I still don't get any of this."
"I honestly never liked any of this karate nonsense. In fact, I'd pay to see it out of the Valley for good."
Kreese and Frank made eye contact for almost four seconds.
"You'd hate your own grandson's passion that much?"
"Oh please. Don't act like you ever cared about what these kids wanted."
Kreese squinted again. "You don't know them."
"I knew my own daughter, and Ali never liked you."
Kreese opened his mouth to retort but Frank spoke. "Officer Lin Davis told me you were about to board a train due for the east coast or something before you were brought in. Is that correct?"
"How does Lucas feel about this?"
"You won't talk to him ever again."
Kreese turned his head slightly. "And LaRusso, will he get the same treatment?"
"Daniel LaRusso doesn't beat children in strip mall parking lots."
"No, he prefers to lie to them and cheat them instead."
"And you're better?"
Kreese bit his lip, balling his fists.
"I was a better grandfather or father to him than you were or Greg ever were. You don't want to admit that, so you bail me out. Want to make a deal, to save your pride."
Frank loomed over Kreese, strangely, the retired doctor was taller.
"I don't know who else you can turn to for help. Either that, or you'll have to figure out a way to find a single job here in the Valley to pay off what you owe me."
"Did I take out a loan?"
"No," Frank said. "But I'll talk to the county and a minute or two later, and you might."
Kreese understood perfectly again.
Frank turned to watch Kreese start to leave the precinct steps.
"Where are you going?"
Kreese answered calmly. "Like you said. To find a job," he said bitterly.
…
…
…
A/N:
Hey everyone, new fic here of course.
Like season 1 of the show, the focus was heavily and almost exclusively on the adult characters until the audience became comfortable with and cared about the teen characters.
Lucas Schwarber, like always, is portrayed by Dylan Minnette in my mind whenever I write him. I don't know why, but he seems to fit the role rather well whenever I'm writing him. I won't spoil the pairing for him for this fanfic.
As for Frank and Olivia Mills, Ali's parents from the first karate kid film, I don't have actors in mind when I'm writing them, I suppose the same ones Cobra Kai and the karate kid series gave us work fine.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all soon.