Out of Place [Cobra Kai OC x Robby Keene]

51- Everything But the Kitchen Sink

"You wear that jacket a lot,"

"I have to come here straight from work,"

"I like it. It looks badass. You have your name on it and everything,"

"Oh yeah, I'm kind of official," I say. Miguel laughs a little. The jacket in question is the jacket that all employees at my tae kwon do school have. It's black with two red stripes running down the sleeves, a patch with the school logo, and my name embroidered on the left side. It's quite nice.

"How is tae kwon do going anyway?" he asks. Right... I guess I should've expected a question like that from someone at some point. Everybody else at Miyagi-Do has renounced martial arts, karate specifically, but here I am, I'm still doing it. It makes me feel out of place all over again.

"It's going about as well as it can right now. I can't spar because of my ribs, but it's not too bad. I'm more partial to patterns and forms anyway. Sparring isn't really my thing," I shrug off. I don't even know if I would want to spar, even if I could... last time I fought...

"What do you mean 'sparring isn't your thing'?! You beat everyone and their mom and you still say it's not your thing?!"

"It's not!"

"You're unbelievable," he says, though he wears a kind of 'I can't believe this' smile, so I know he's not mad at me or anything. Lately when I've come to see Miguel, it's taken my mind off of all the chaos of my life right now, but this time I can't help but be reminded of Robby, who said the exact same thing to me back in the LaRusso's home dojo, when we were having one of our Cot Talks. That feels like forever ago... things seemed so much easier then... that was before this- this rivalry between the karate dojo's seemed real. Like we didn't like each other, and true, they had just vandalized the Miyagi-Do dojo, but other than that, it was just some people we really didn't like. Now... it feels like we all have trauma from each other. We can't sleep at night. We can't walk the halls at school without being reminded of what happened in them. We can't look at the hand railing on the stairs with seeing Miguel breaking his back on it... we messed each other up...

"You should let me know when you get out of here. I can make some cookies or something," I say to fill the silence. His eyes widen with excitement.

"You mean the chocolate chip ones?" he asks eagerly. Oh yeah. Those are hands down the best thing I've ever baked. I nod, grinning at his excitement.

"Would you believe me if I said I was getting out tomorrow?"

"No," I reply, laughing, "but they'll be ready when you do."

He responds to that by making a 'yes' motion with his fist. I can't help but smile. I'm glad someone is a supporter of my baking endeavors. I sit back in the chair at his bedside, staring absentmindedly at the wall on the other side of the room. I've been in this position before. Sitting beside a hospital bed... trying to make the best of a situation I know is grave. I remember when it was the bedside of my dad... he was in a coma for six days... every day I lived with the constant fear that I might lose that last piece of my family I had left... I never thought that that piece would do anything to lose me... it was hard. It's always been hard. There are the people that are able to make the best out of a bad situation, but I don't think that's ever been me. All my brain can think about is the worst. And maybe I think of some possible scenario where things turn out okay, but it always circles back to how everything could go wrong.

"There's this big surgery that's supposed to be able to fix my legs again... I don't even know if it'll work. Either way I know it'll cost a fortune..." Miguel says after what feels like a long silence, "everybody keeps telling me to look on the bright side and to hope for the best but it's just... really hard."