deercountry | (closed) december catchall

He can't help but enjoy the cold chill coming off from the bracelet as he touches it, letting his fingers roll it against his wrist. It's familiar, attracting, stirring a fluttering in his chest with the glee already there. Robby's listening, of course, but he feels drunk to be standing there, and the only good kind of drunk: on a good thing, thinking about tomorrow, and thinking about this gift.

(It really is personal. You can't tell him this isn't personal, even if he knows--families won't have the same type of blood.

But doesn't it feel like that? Can't it?)

"Yeah?" It's difficult to pull himself away from looking at his wrist and the black-blue around it, but he does after a flit between it and Mister LaRusso. "I bet we could make some really cool lessons with all this too. Y'know, we should probably do more with magic, helping people have an edge in a fight or getting away. A monster can't chase you if it's slipping all over the place."

Now isn't that a funny thought? Nevermind what encounters can be, has been, even with the both of them present. There's no sign of that now on Robby, smiling with a cheeky grin.

"Well, I was thinking that if this gift turns out well for you, we can make versions of it for all the other kids." At the dojo he means, of course, but if Robby would have any other kids in mind that don't happen to take lessons there - it's not like Daniel would protest. He's seen how protective the other got so quickly over Mob, and there may be other kids he's taken under his wing that Daniel just doesn't know about.

And while his priority certainly is with taking care of his karate kids here, it's true that Daniel LaRusso wants better for all the kids in this place at all times.

(And sure - if he made other versions of these, it wouldn't be with his strongest blood anymore. But that's exactly why he saved this first one for Robby. Daniel can't think of a kid he wants to protect more in this place than the one that feels like his own son at this point.)

It feels like this gift hit its mark though. Seeing Robby smiling in such a carefree way is exactly what Daniel wanted to happen because of this.

".. and I really hope it turns out well for you," Daniel says, his tone taking on a bit of a more serious note. Not a bad one, just.. the tiniest bit more heavy than what he said just now, like there's something he wants to impart on Robby. "I know that you've already been through a lot here. And.. well, a lot will probably keep happening in this place."

Since it just seems to be how Trench is.

"But I promise to always be there to help you through it. That's what this is for."

He reaches out, tapping a finger against the bracelet - made easier by the fact that Robby is still playing with it, so it's easier to reach.

"This way I can help keep you safe even during the times when I'm not physically there." Because god knows this place just loves separating people. It still feels like a small miracle that he happened to be in the sleeper farm at the same time as Robby. But while he'll fight tooth and nail if necessary to be at Robby's side at all times, it at least gives him a tiny bit more peace of mind to know he can still help Robby in this way, even if the circumstances are bad and keep them apart during a real moment of danger.

Bracelets for all--not bad. Robby wonders if they'd need so much blood as this, and maybe there's other types that could be added for diversity, a good excuse to look at it and ponder the applications. But it's not a deep thought; he's already back to looking at Mister LaRusso when he speaks up again, the change of note not registering until he goes on. That makes Robby glance down, an unspoken shame--but a truth regardless, to the past's hardships and the future's, too.

But he does bring his gaze up again, facing Mister LaRusso and the comfort that he offers in his words. His lips a thin line, a small anxiety in his heart that always exists there, burrowed deep; about his place in this world and his chances, the fear of death that always lingers.

He has to live with it, as does everyone. Robby takes in Mister LaRusso's words for what they are, his gesture, all an amount that's hard to carry or swallow.

(A watch is a pretty shitty gift in the face of security, huh.)

"Thank you," he says again; because it's the easiest, and seems like the obvious choice for what's been said. "You've given me a lot already when it comes to protecting myself. I won't waste it--and maybe one day, I'll be able to help you the same back."

Even if that wouldn't usually something offered back home, from a student to a sensei... but this place is different from California, and there's plenty that Robby wants to offer one day in safety. To others, just like Mister LaRusso, but also--to the man himself.

Everyone has people they want to protect.

It's exactly that fact that makes it so hard to protest the words, even though a tiny part of Daniel wants to. After all, it's so ingrained into his mind at this point. He's not just the sensei here, but also the adult. (Also the parent.) He's supposed to take care of Robby, not the other way around.

But there's no luxury to think that here. Not when at any given moment Daniel could be the one put into trouble without him having the slightest say in it. They can't do anything here but all depend on each other regardless of age, even though Daniel wants to do nothing more than to protect these kids as much as he can.

He still shakes his head though. Not to protest about that, but to reassure the other.

"You've already helped me."

Objectively so. Sure, back in the sleeper farm maybe it went.. a little bit too far, but Daniel is able to recognize where all of that must have come from. The same desire to keep them safe that Daniel himself has, especially in a situation that was as dangerous as both of them as that one. Of course he doesn't mention it in words, not wanting to remind Robby too starkly of those moments, but he's sure the other will know what he means all the same.

There's a pause, Daniel pressing his lips together, and when they part, he smiles and adds: "And not just during physical combat, you know?"

Sure, that's the kind of protection that Robby seems to be angling at here, but Daniel doesn't think it's the most important way the kid has helped him here so far. There's a clearer understanding that Daniel may slowly be getting about why mister Miyagi needed him too when he was younger - because he can see it reflected in the way Robby's sheer company and presence and drive give Daniel the kind of peace of mind he wouldn't have had on his own. And that is something you need in this place as well, just in order to get by.

"Yeah, well--same for you, you know."

It's an intentional mimic, but for the fond edges around reply, it's not all untrue. Karate was never just about the physical combat for him, and it became more than a way to get back at his dad, even if it lingered longer into that territory than even he had meant it to. He lost his way, and then anger and frustrated had warped everything.

This--them, putting the pieces back together--was never meant to happen. But it did, and piece by piece, everything feels stronger than it was. It's made it easier to look back and beyond the rehab centre, and see what they used to have without the pain and frustration that used to cloud his thoughts when Robby tried. There's a peace returning--an acceptance, and a returning fondness for the past.

"I know I was angry at you when I showed up--and before that," he admits, though it's not really an addition that's necessary, "--but I appreciated what you did for me, giving me somewhere to say, Miyagi-do; even helping me get back into school. And..."

He looks down at the bracelet, briefly.

"--I know you were trying to help me. With juvie." His mouth twists, a pinched smile small and sad. "Even if everything went the way it did... it could've been worse. We can't change anything about it, but--thank you, Mister LaRusso."

Because he can accept that too, now: the intent, setting aside the pain and regret. The phonecalls he never took, the e-mails he never answered.

If only, if only. But they have what they have, and what they have is each other in the present.

That's good enough.

Daniel thought he could handle this. The gift giving, and Robby's sweet kindness, and the way the other seemed so surprised and excited about a gift that it made Daniel's heart ache with the idea that this is what Robby should have had all along, instead of only now.

And maybe he could handle that still. Stuff that makes his heart all warm, and stuff he'd ruminate on later, but it's all still below his limit. They're things he can embrace in the moment.

But this? Maybe the first part, even if Daniel doesn't feel like he deserves nearly as much credit as Robby is giving him here for the things Daniel did for him, finding it natural, but then Robby continues onto the juvie part, and that's the exact moment it feels like everything spills over.

The man swallows as he can sense the feeling rising in his chest.

Because he can see the same thing here as mister Miyagi gave him when Daniel came back to him after making those stupid, stupid mistakes that lead up to training under Silver. A sense of absolution, even though it doesn't feel like he deserved it back then, nor that he deserves it right now, not when he's the one who keeps messing up around the people most important to him.

Then again, maybe it's exactly like Robby is saying here. It's not like they can change the past. They can only ever shape the future, and while Daniel has been trying to do better by Robby, it never feels like quite enough to forgive himself for everything.

Daniel blinks a few times, trying to win a fight against oncoming tears.

And rapidly losing.

Maybe that's why he instead reaches out, his arms wrapping around Robby in a way that almost feels familiar now, and - most importantly - giving him the opportunity to hide his face from the rest of the party, even from Robby himself.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "but you have to help me for a moment to keep Shigeo from seeing his new sensei getting all emotional so quickly."

You know, like that's the biggest concern here. As opposed to Robby's-girlfriend-who-traumatized-his-daughter or Robby's-dad-who-has-an-awkward-karate-rivalry-with-him. Clearly not the more awkward options who could see Daniel cry over Robby. Obviously. (Even if he's not openly sobbing or anything, but-- even just his eyes watering up feels embarrassing enough around those people, okay? Forgive an old man his weakness over his boy.)

There's an instance where Robby sees the light catch in Mister LaRusso's eyes, briefly, before the man closes in and holds him in an embrace that soothes the heat from his clothes. Not immediately, but Robby knows the sensation, as his body cools with the cold press of his sensei's body, and how it contradicts in what it's doing.

Because sure, to anyone else, this might be cold. But to Robby? It's nothing like that at all. It's comforting, first and foremost, and that's where all care starts and ends. He brings his arms around the man in turn for what he mumbles close to his ear, letting his head rest against the shoulder there. A hum he means to sound not coming out, an acknowledgement he doesn't need to give.

He likes this. He likes this a whole lot, even if he knows where it's coming from.

"You could say the classic. Tell him you got something in your eye."

It's fun, not serious, because that's already been said, and is being spoken in their embrace. Robby might've thought about his dad or anyone else under these circumstances before, but this time round -- he'll face any looks when they come, and not worry about them a second before.

Because maybe his own heart feels a little tender too: thinking about the past they couldn't have had, but here they are, in the present and future that's more malleable than what's come and gone.

But he didn't have this either. Some things have been lost, but others -- they've been gained. He can see Mister LaRusso more honestly, and he doesn't mind this way of seeing him. Where some of the sparkle has been lost, but none of the parts deserved.

Or maybe just -- the feeling that he's more than just a sensei.

Maybe.

There's a bit of a low rumble of a laugh when Robby says those words. Maybe because both of them know that it wouldn't work - except for the fact where Mob would probably feel rude for disbelieving it and might believe it just because of that.

It's not the point of the words though. Maybe the words aren't the point at all. Maybe the point is still lingering on what Robby said before that, on the hold they share here in this moment. After everything, it truly feels like a privilege to be able to hold Robby like this, just like he would for Samantha or Anthony.

Maybe it's why Daniel lingers a moment or two longer than strictly necessary before he finally pulls back. His inhaled breath is still a little shaky, and he has to lift his hand to wipe the last remainders of water out of his eyes, but by the time he's looking at Robby again, he manages to mostly look presentable.

"I'm not sure whether I actually said this somewhere down the line."

Because maybe it got lost amidst.. well, let's be real, everything else. Opening the dojo, the way Robby really helped herd some of the kids in it, the awkward times they had at first, all the danger they've been through - it's easy for some things to slip through the cracks.

Even when they deserve to be said.

"But I'm so glad you're back." Even if it might not be 100% the same as before, it's close enough to it in its own way that it feels like 'back'. Back with Miyagi-do, back in a spot where Robby can laugh with Daniel, or confide in him. The most important parts of what they had all feel like they're back by now. "If Trench brought me anything good, it's that."

Maybe that's Daniel's true Christmas present, and this watch is just physical evidence of Robby's thoughtfulness being aimed at him once more.

As the hug ends, Mister LaRusso's face coming into view and the less shaky hold of it, Robby lets his eyes find the older man's, his own arm lingering around the side of him before it's sensible to let his limbs return to himself. But already, he misses the cool warmth that comes with Mister LaRusso's touch, the one Robby can pretend to feel in their still-close proximity. He doesn't get this often, and this isn't the same as when he holds Tory, or anyone else.

(It's really a shame this isn't Mister LaRusso's place--he might feel bolder, and be bolder.)

But, he's listening. A small lift of his gaze, a second where the words continue, and Robby needs a second to process what they mean. 'But I'm so glad you're back.' Like he was ever gone, but he was--gone from Miyagi-do, and gone from a few of their lives until he washed ashore like so many before him. It's bittersweet, wistful on the mind; calls up those wishes and regrets that live in their past, but are still close enough to come to mind when things like this are said.

Robby's head dips with the sentiment, letting that wistful angle soften, and a better thought than 'well, it's easier to visit when your daughter isn't my ex' to come to mind. But nothing so wildly different when he lifts his head again, a small huff preceding a somewhat joking remark:

"I think even with all the monsters and everything else around here, we've had an easier time than connecting than we would've back in the Valley. I didn't know what I was going to do about karate."

Because Cobra Kai wasn't an option, and Miyagi-do and Eagle Fang... well. That was what it was: a closed down sign.

Daniel huffs, before remarking dryly: "Well, that makes two of us."

The dryness isn't aimed at Robby at all though - it's mostly just aimed at the kind of situation they were dealing with back home, if anything. Sure, Daniel had a tad more of an idea what he was going to do back there, but it's not like the plan was entirely fleshed out beyond 'invite Chozen over and find some way to take Silver down.'

There's still kind of a middle step missing in that plan before that end result is achieved, after all.

"I never imagined that one day I'd be teaching kids how to avoid fights with monsters. Or how to defend themselves if they'd get in one." Daniel shakes his head. Sure, in theory it's nothing different than what he started out with - wanting kids to be able to protect themselves, to not let the bullies win - but it's on another level entirely when the bullies aren't just slightly mean teenagers. "Life sometimes takes a real turn when you least expect it."

Robby didn't flinch like he might've at the remark. His part in that reason why, though he hasn't forgotten it. But there's a distance, a kind of acceptance to it, where he ducks his head in a nod more towards their mutual situation.

...well, not entirely mutual. Mister LaRusso still had an entire life outside of karate, while he had let his bitterness stop him from examining his life outside of it. For the good that did. But he knows it's not that simple, either, for the man: who became a sensei to help others, who worried about in the seat across from him of hurting others by becoming a sensei again. If he could do it, if it wouldn't all lead to the same result.

Still, Robby tilts his head slightly, offers with a joking intent: "You could get into the transport business in town? Be a real innovator. Bet the people who travel between the farms and town wouldn't mind vehicles that got them through the woods easier."

Yes, Mister LaRusso's a car dealer, not a car...inventor. If only. Robby is surely on a winning business idea.

It's not quite a turn in the conversation he expected, no matter how joking, and it takes Daniel aback - just for the briefest moment.

Just enough that the sound he lets out this time definitely sounds more amused.

"Do you miss the dealership that much?" Yes, because that's clearly why Robby is making this joking suggestion, right. For his own sake, and not for Daniel's, clearly. Because he misses his nice name-printed shirt...

Though the idea of trying to convince the locals that cars are useful is kind of a funny one. Daniel can already imagine how they'd react.. Even his car selling powers of persuasion might not do much there.

".. though I do have a car that runs on blood magic now, so maybe I have found a hole in the market."

Never questioned what mister Miyagi's car was still driving on, huh, Robby. Maybe Daniel was the car inventor all along!! (No, he just got some help..)

Wow, yes, this is about Robby wanting a dealership around for a shirt. He'd have an honest answer (though, does he need one?) if the idea of a blood-powered car wasn't enough to distract him, his brows tugging close.

"What, like coldblood blood? Or one of those lunar balls?"

Do those count as blood magic? They're magic at least, and that's enough to throw them into the same category for a guy like Robby. And those orbs do work like electricity around here...somehow.

"Like coldblood blood," Daniel repeats, confirming it with a nod. "Instead of gas."

Because that was the main problem, really. Sure, the car still somehow - miraculously, Daniel would say - worked after showing up after him from the ocean, but it's not like they exactly have gas stations anywhere here in Trench. Daniel knew that he'd just run out of it after a while, even with how little he uses the car in the first place.

"I talked to someone about it, and apparently they had a few ideas about how to get it to run on that instead." Not that.. Daniel knows the full mechanics of it. Sure, he knows about car mechanics, but it's when blood magic gets involved that it starts getting a little too complicated for him. "So they helped me adjust it, so I can keep it running, even here."

This would have been such a weird conversation by their own world's standards, huh.

It's a strange thing, what you can get used to after being stuck in a place like this for a few months.

He huffs, before returning to the slightly lighter note, with: "Though I still don't think it's going to be a huge success among the locals here."

You know, this hypothetical LaRusso Autos: Trench edition. Clearly Daniel's side business next to LaRusso Pasta. All very real.

This is a very weird conversation, even by the standards of Trench. ...okay, more like Robby's standards in Trench, where it's weird, but the type of weird you accept with a shrug and acknowledgement because you know there's weirder shit out there than magic blood-fuelled cars.

"That's a shame," Robby remarks about the business venture failing before it begins. He might ask more about running cars off of blood magic, if he actually cared. Perhaps one day in the future, if he ever wants his own vehicle. But his thoughts are more with Mister LaRusso, a curiosity coming from the subject.

"You're happy staying a full time sensei? You don't mind it?"

He doesn't have an itch to be doing more? Which isn't really strange, but this is still a man who ran a dealership and took up being a sensei at the same time. Is it enough? Fulfilling?

But the questioning isn't that deep, it's casual, even if there's a sliver of another question there.

Are you as happy as you can be here?

(Excluding missing family members.)

Honestly, the unsaid question here is a little bit harder than the one that's actually being verbalized. After all, the matter of whether he's happy here, whether he's okay - it's something so rooted in the sense of deep loss he has whenever he thinks of his loved ones back home that he can never give a good answer to it.

So he ignored it, tucks it away. Thinks about it in a more simple way. Sure, Daniel has always had trouble defining who he is without doing so in terms of other people - a father, a husband, a teacher, a student - but it's not like he doesn't have different people here to anchor himself with in that sense.

"Yeah." So he can at least answer that question affirmatively, sounding like he means it. "If I'm going to be stuck here anyway, I might as well do what I can to help kids."

That's always what has been most fulfilling to Daniel. Sure, he doesn't mind the dealership, but-- nothing quite gives him those same warm fuzzy feelings as helping out kids, as making sure they're alright. Both here and back home.

Only a faint hint of wryness slips into his tone as he admits: "I know what I've said before."

A conversation that feels so long ago now, way closer to when Robby first showed up in this place. A talk about a dojo, and being a sensei, and Daniel's intense fear of screwing up rearing its head.

It's not like it's gone now, but--

".. guess I'm doing alright so far though."

Or. Well. None of his students here have complained. He likes to think he's doing better this time around - hopefully, anyway. Especially with the biggest example of the student he'd like to do right by the most is standing right in front of him now.

It's not a question that's deep, or one that needs to be, returned with a deep answer. The thought of what Robby's doing here himself, what to do, who to be, has been on his mind most of the time. Still is, in that he has learning and training to keep him occupied, but does that mean he's doing anything?

Responsibility and fitting in is a struggling question. It's what made Robby wonder if being only a sensei is enough for Mister LaRusso, even if the idea of anyone else only being one isn't weird.

...maybe it is a deep question after all, but Robby's fine with Mister LaRusso's initial answer. It's fair, and if you know what you can do, why not do it? But he then goes on, and Robby pauses as he remembers what Mister LaRusso is referring to--the conversation back in his living room. Oh.

He lets go of the small breath he was holding onto, offering a small pinch of his lips.

"I'd tell you if you weren't," Robby teases--or half-teases. And, slowly, "...I still think you can clue everyone into why they're painting fences and washing cars from the beginning, but it's good too--people can practice it even when they're cleaning at home."

It was pretty useful to share with Chizuru that way.

Still: it's a very light criticism. Got to be gentle when it comes to Miyagi-do.

Robby hasn't realised that he has unlocked a secret cheat code where he can actually say this sort of stuff - especially when he's saying it lightly - without Daniel spiralling. Mostly, anyway. And Daniel has actually let some people know about that a little earlier than he would have back home, but is he going to say that out loud?

Of course not. He's got to keep up the Miyagi-do preservation front, right. What if people decide to take a mile after he budges an inch?

"I'll have you know that no one else has called the chores shitty yet."

It's a bit of a lighter remark than anything he said a moment ago though - maybe on purpose, to show that he isn't bothered at all by Robby saying this, if Daniel is able to just lightly rib the boy in turn.

"Midoriya actually started figuring it out about a few minutes in, after he started to compare it to.." Daniel's voice trails off as he tries to recall, and he frowns a little in uncertainty of his own memory when he adds: ".. microwaving eggs?"

That sounds right. Yet still weird at the same time.

...eggs? Excuse Robby as he just. Looks confused as that. He wants to ask, but Mister LaRusso doesn't sound as sure himself, so is it even worth it? There's a counter-point he has to this anyway, which is way easier to focus on than...microwaving eggs.

"Oscar was pretty sure it was a scam to get free labour and kept complaining." ...and said a bunch of weird things, but that's what the 'kept complaining' is for. But Robby's amused as he retells it, adding absently: "I never did get to ask him what I got out of helping you get the fence painted for free."

Well. "He still did it."

Said with a shrug. Time off from painting the fences for Mister LaRusso? What a weird idea. That was a guy who could've done with being told up front, buuuut--maybe Robby was up for him getting trolled a little.

With karate practice.

There's some internal amusement, because that sure is one of the people Daniel ended up being a little bit more direct with, if not just because Oscar kept going on about it so much that he was starting to feel a little bit bad for the kid..

But rather than addressing that, Daniel has something else to say. Something very important. All that talk about the bracelet, and that talk right before Daniel got so emotionally overwhelmed he had to hug Robby? Clearly nothing in the face of this.

The face of Daniel shrugging, and then casually adding: "He said my hair was boring."

Oscar sure says Some Things, doesn't he.

Didn't he say something like that to Robby too? He thinks about it for half-a-second before he actually figures to look from Mister LaRusso's face to his hair, back again....again...

...with an expression growing something close to a grimace that accumulates to Robby giving Mister LaRusso a sheepish, dragged out hum in place of a 'Weelllllllllll.'

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm--"

So cruel to a sensei who was just a moment ago on the verge of tears.

.. he should have seen this coming.

After all, Robby is still very much a teenager. And of course a teenager would absolutely take this chance for this sort of teasing of a poor old man. It's a good thing that while Daniel's feelings are still a little tender after the moment they shared just now, he can recognize this for the teasing joke it is, and so he just nods, his lips tightly pressed together in wry amusement.

"I'll make sure to remember that one."

Ominous words. You never know when this will be returned to you one day, Robby.

(Probably never. Daniel is much too weak, and even more so to the kid standing in front of him right now.)

"And I also think I should also let you enjoy your Christmas dinner here," especially since this probably is a rare occasion to Robby, having it with a whole bunch of people, unlike the way it usually is busy over at the LaRusso's.. "rather than hogging you all to myself."

The act breaks at the warning, a huff of laughter escaping and leaving his face smiling after; dimples pinched there from the pull of it. It's good to get to be silly, and he thinks they both need it after everything--everything this month has been, especially. It's not Mister LaRusso's own family, a Christmas dinner that he might be familiar with, but--

they can all do with good things.

"Alright," Robby agrees, even if he's enjoying himself. "You should tell Mob a story about karate. Guy gets invested in anything you tell him."

Maybe not even about karate, and it's an affectionate statement, for sure. He deserves good things, in Robby's opinion.

"Oh, don't worry. Half his Christmas present is karate wisdom."

It's a statement that's mostly a joke, but when Daniel is the one saying it, can you ever truly be sure about that..

(It's mostly just going to be warm clothes and Daniel telling him to stay warm, let's be real.)

There's a hand reaching out, a last faint squeeze of Robby's shoulder coupled with a smile, and then Daniel is actually heading over towards Mob to make sure the kid also gets his Christmas present.

(closed) december catchall

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