2006

Michael and Diana's home was filled with the warmth and chaos typical of a young family. Michael was outside, busy working in the yard, while Diana, with her rich Colombian accent, cooked dinner and kept an eye on their one-year-old daughter, Sofia. Their five-year-old son, Ezekiel, was at the kitchen table, deeply engrossed in his drawing.

Life was good for Michael. He was a successful lawyer with a beautiful wife and two children. It had been ten years since he last spoke to his father, or any of his old Cobra Kai friends. The past felt like a distant memory, one he was content to leave behind.

The tranquility of the afternoon was interrupted by the ringing of Michael's phone. He answered it, not recognizing the number.

"Hello?"

"Would I have the number of a Michael Kreese?"

"Speaking."

"Mr. Kreese, this is Rebecca from the Downtown LA Homeless Shelter. I'm calling about a John Kreese. He listed you as his emergency contact."

Michael's heart skipped a beat. "My father? What's going on?"

Rebecca's voice softened. "He's been having some issues. Aggression, psychological problems. He's gotten into fights with other tenants. We may have to ask him to leave if it continues."

Michael closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "I... I haven't spoken to him in ten years. I didn't know he was there."

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but we need to address the situation. Can you come by tomorrow?"

Michael sighed deeply, looking at his family through the window. "Yes, I'll come in the morning."

He hung up and stood there for a moment, the weight of the news settling over him. Diana stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on a towel. "¿Todo bien?"

Michael looked at her, trying to mask his worry. "That was about my dad. He's in a homeless shelter. They're having some problems with him."

Diana's expression softened, though she and John had never gotten along. "¿Vas a ir a verlo?"

Michael nodded. "Tomorrow. I have to. I can't just leave him like that."

She walked over and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Lo resolveremos, juntos."

🐍

Michael drove to the homeless shelter with a mix of dread and obligation. As he entered the shelter, he immediately saw a commotion. John was in a heated altercation with another tenant. A shelter employee rushed over to break it up.

"You wanna end up back in the street, John? Sleeping under a bridge? Because that's exactly what you'll be doing if you don't stop acting a fool. Now clean this shit up."

The employee escorted the other tenant away as John, grumbling, began cleaning up the mess.

Michael stepped forward. "Hey."

John turned and froze, shock evident on his face. "Michael?"

Later, Michael observed his father's small, sparse room. An American flag hung over the bed, and a newspaper clipping of Cobra Kai's past victories was tacked to the wall.

"So, why didn't you tell me sooner?" Michael asked, breaking the silence.

John's eyes hardened. "It's been ten years. We haven't spoken."

Michael sighed. "How's Diana?" John asked, though Michael knew he didn't really care.

"She's fine, Dad. She's worried about you, too."

John grunted, clearly uncomfortable. "What's this about, Michael?"

"I got a call from the shelter. They said you've been having issues. Aggression, psychological problems. They might kick you out if it continues."

John's shoulders slumped. "I lost the dojo for a second time. Things got rough after that. I tried to re-enlist in the army, but they didn't want me back. Too old, they said. Psychological issues. An old friend offered me a job, but I turned it down. Felt like a handout. Ended up here."

Michael felt a pang of sympathy, despite everything. "Why didn't you say something sooner? After my wedding, we never saw you again."

John looked away. "You knew me when I was on top, kid. How do you think I feel? I feel like a broken man. I don't really think this can be fixed."

Michael felt a wave of sadness for his father. Despite all the things John had done, he was still his father. Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph, handing it to John.

John squinted at the picture. "What's this?"

"Something else I wanted to share. On the left, that's little Sofia. She was born a year ago last month. On the right, that's Ezekiel. He'll be six in June."

John studied the photo, his expression softening slightly. "Your grandkids, Dad."

John's voice was almost a whisper. "Huh. What do you know?"

He looked closer at the picture, seeing a resemblance between young Zeke and himself at that age. Michael saw the change in his father's eyes.

"He's a bit of a troublemaker too," Michael added with a faint smile. "Hit another kid over the head after his snack was stolen."

John chuckled. "The kid's a natural Cobra."

Michael sighed, knowing this was a pivotal moment. "Dad, why don't you come live with us? It's family. This is different. Plus, you should get to know your grandkids."

John hesitated, glancing back at the picture of Zeke. The resemblance was undeniable. Finally, he gruffly agreed. "Alright. But I want a room with a view, not like this shitbox cell."

Michael laughed. "There's a space in the attic. And I'll expect rent."

John gave a rare, genuine smile. "Deal."

🐍

Michael and John worked together to move John's few belongings into the attic room. Diana, though still hesitant, understood the importance of family and lent a hand where she could, arranging the small space to be comfortable for John.

Michael, holding Sofia, walked outside to join John in the backyard. Zeke was playing with a ball, his energetic movements halting as he noticed the two men standing there.

John looked around, impressed. "You've done well for yourself, Michael. Big house, good job. You've really taken things to the next level."

Zeke, curious about the unfamiliar man, approached them. "Dad, who's that?"

Michael crouched beside his son. "Zeke, this is your grandfather, John Kreese."

Zeke's eyes widened with curiosity. "Hi."

John gave a small nod, his expression softening. "Hello, Zeke."

Michael smiled at the interaction, then looked down at Sofia, who was getting sleepy. "I'm going inside to put Sofia down for her nap. You two get to know each other."

As Michael went inside, John turned his attention fully to Zeke. "I heard you had a bit of a situation at school with a Graham cracker."

Zeke nodded, frowning slightly. "A kid stole my food, so I hit him."

John's lips curled into a rare smile. "You know, a long time ago, I had a boy with the exact same problem. You know what he did?"

Zeke shook his head, eyes wide with interest.

"He struck first. And the other boy never bothered him again."

Zeke's frown transformed into a small smile, feeling a sense of pride in his actions.

John patted Zeke on the shoulder. "Looks like you've got some fight in you. Just like him."

Zeke beamed, feeling a new connection to the grandfather he had just met. Michael watched from the doorway, hopeful that this new chapter might bring healing and understanding to their family.

🐍

In the dojo, Johnny had Miguel in a headlock, teaching him how to escape.

"Get your arms up," Johnny instructed. "What does a Cobra do?"

"My arms were up," Miguel grumbled.

"What does a Cobra do?" Johnny repeated more sternly.

Miguel focused, wriggling out of Johnny's grip. "Slither!" he shouted triumphantly as he broke free.

"Not bad," Zeke commented, watching from the sidelines.

Johnny then moved them to the next drill: punching baseballs launched from a pitching machine. Zeke moved confidently, his knuckles red but steady, a testament to the harsh training Kreese had put him through. Miguel, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. A baseball slammed into his ear, leaving a noticeable bruise.

"What? What the hell? That wasn't fair!" Miguel protested, rubbing his head.

Zeke observed, noting that the bruise didn't seem too severe.

Johnny walked over. "You want a fair fight? Dream on. You can't always think your enemies are gonna play by the rules."

"Yeah, but my ear!" Miguel pointed out.

Johnny scoffed. "What if that baseball was your enemy's friend coming at you from behind? You have to be prepared for everything. Let me look at it."

Inspecting the bruise, Zeke grimaced. "It looks like shit."

"No, it's fine, it's fine. Just don't be a baby." Johnny interrupted.

A group of women with yoga mats entered the building, interrupting the moment.

"It's 5:00. Twilight is upon us," one of the women announced.

Johnny sighed, clearly annoyed. "Oh, right. Okay."

Zeke looked confused. "What's going on?"

Johnny glanced at him. "I had to sublet the dojo for a few hours. Just till we get more students."

The women spread out, preparing for their yoga session. "We need to change the energy in here."

Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Are we really that desperate?"

Johnny rolled his eyes as the women began their routine. "Center your energy... and stretch," they chanted.

"No...," Johnny muttered under his breath, clearly exasperated by the situation.

Zeke smirked, looking at Johnny. "Guess we better get used to the new vibe."

Johnny shot him a look but couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, shut up. I'll figure this out."

🐍

Zeke sat in the living room, absently flipping through channels when his grandfather entered. Kreese, ever the strategist, immediately focused on his grandson.

"I heard you're training with Johnny's new student," Kreese began, his voice gruff but curious.

Zeke nodded. "Yeah, his name's Miguel. He's a bit raw right now, but he has potential."

Kreese leaned forward, intrigued. "I also heard about the locker room fight. Glad you hid your face."

Zeke smirked. "You taught me well. Never let them see you coming."

Kreese's eyes gleamed with pride. "Johnny's proven to be a capable sensei, but you need to stay sharp. The All Valley Tournament is coming up. If you want to be a champion, you have to separate yourself from the rest."

Zeke nodded, understanding the gravity of his grandfather's words. "I'll keep it up, Grandpa. I know what's at stake."

Kreese put a hand on Zeke's shoulder, a rare moment of genuine connection. "Good. Remember, no mercy."

Zeke nodded firmly, his resolve steeled. "No mercy."

🐍

Zeke walked into his math class and found Moon already seated at their usual spot. He slid into the chair next to her, their shoulders almost touching as they opened their books and began the assignment.

"Did you hear?" Moon asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and gossip.

Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

"Kyler and Sam broke up last night."

Zeke wasn't entirely surprised. "Really? I mean, I'm not a fan of Sam, but Kyler's a douchebag. Probably good for her."

Moon looked at him, slightly defensive. "Kyler's not that bad."

Zeke frowned. "Why are you defending him?"

Moon leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You don't know?"

Zeke was puzzled. "Am I missing something?"

Moon sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Apparently, Sam did... stuff with Kyler in the movie theater."

Zeke blinked. "Stuff?"

Moon nodded. "You know, like... oral."

Zeke was taken aback. He didn't believe it for a second, but he kept his mouth shut. "Wow."

Later, as he walked through the halls, he noticed Sam being made fun of. People whispered and snickered as she passed by. Even though he wasn't a fan of the LaRusso girl, it seemed too harsh and unbelievable.

He sighed, shaking his head. High school rumors were the worst.

🐍

2011

Zeke sat in the kitchen, his head hung low as Diana lectured him in rapid Spanish. Her voice was stern, and her frustration was evident. "¡No puedo creer que hayas hecho eso, Ezekiel! ¿Qué estabas pensando, eh? ¡La violencia nunca es la respuesta!"

John heard the commotion from his attic room and descended the stairs, curious about the noise. He appeared in the doorway, his presence commanding as always. "What's going on here?"

Diana glanced at him, her expression tense. "It's nothing, John. I'm handling it."

John's eyes shifted to Zeke, then back to Diana. "It doesn't sound like nothing. What did he do?"

Diana sighed, clearly worn out from the day. "He got into trouble at school. Again."

John stepped closer, his tone firm but not unkind. "Let me help with this. You've had a long day."

Diana hesitated, but eventually relented, her exhaustion winning out. "Fine. But remember, he's my son."

John nodded and motioned for Zeke to follow him outside. They walked to the punching bag set up in the backyard. John tapped it lightly. "Alright, kid. Tell me what happened."

Zeke looked up at his grandfather, feeling a mix of shame and anger. "There was a fight. This kid was picking on me, so I hit him."

John studied him, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Did he deserve it?"

Zeke nodded. "Yeah."

John smirked. "Good. And were you smart about it?"

Zeke met his grandfather's gaze. "I think so."

John patted the punching bag. "Let's see that strike-first mentality. Work out that aggression here instead."

Zeke began hitting the bag, each punch harder than the last. John watched, nodding in approval. "That's it. Channel that energy."

Diana stepped outside, watching them from a distance. She bit her lip, torn between her concerns and the hope that maybe John's influence wasn't entirely negative. She didn't want to intervene, but she couldn't help feeling that John's involvement might be making Zeke's behavior worse.

As she stood there, her arms crossed, she knew she needed to find a balance between her father in law's tough love and her nurturing approach.

Later that evening, Diana approached Michael, her concern etched on her face. "Mi amor, we need to talk about Zeke and your father."

Michael looked up from his laptop, sensing the seriousness in her tone. "What's on your mind, cariño?"

Diana sighed, choosing her words carefully. "I'm worried about how John is handling Zeke's discipline. He's... too harsh."

Michael leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "I get it, Diana. I really do. But that's just who my Dad is. He's tough, but he means well."

Diana shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice. "That doesn't mean he should have a say in how we raise our children. Zeke needs guidance, not more aggression."

Michael reached out, taking her hand. "It'll be fine, I promise. I'll keep an eye on him."

Diana's eyes softened, but she didn't fully relax. "Please, just watch him. I don't want Zeke growing up thinking violence is the answer to everything."

Michael nodded, pulling her closer. "I will, mi amor."

She leaned into him, still worried but comforted by his reassurance. "Gracias, mi vida."

Michael kissed her forehead. "We're in this together, Diana. Always."

🐍

Johnny, Zeke, and Miguel were in the dojo, training with intense focus.

Johnny called out to them, "What's the second rule of the Way of the Fist?"

"Strike hard!" Zeke responded with confidence.

"That's right," Johnny affirmed. "There's only one reason to hit someone. To inflict pain. Striking hard is about giving your all."

Zeke, always eager to impress, added his own thoughts. "Striking hard is not just about the physical strength, it's about the intent behind it. You have to mean every hit, make it count."

Johnny nodded, impressed by Zeke's insight. "Well said."

At that moment, a girl walked in. It was Aisha.

Johnny turned to her with a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What the hell? No yoga till 5:00. No matter how bad you need it."

Aisha hesitated but spoke up. "I-I'm actually here for karate. I saw your website. It said that there was supposed to be a session today."

Johnny looked her over skeptically. "I appreciate you coming in, but there are no girls in Cobra Kai."

"Why not?" Aisha challenged.

"Same reason there aren't women in the Army. Doesn't make sense."

Miguel quickly intervened. "Sensei, I need to show you something in the office."

While Miguel and Johnny talked in the office, Zeke approached Aisha. "Yasmine?"

Aisha looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"I saw what she did at the dance, plus she's Moon's friend so I gotta put up with her," Zeke explained.

Aisha nodded, her frustration evident. "I have to do something. I won't take Yasmine's shit anymore."

Zeke gave her an appraising look. "Maybe this could be a good outlet for you."

Just then, Johnny and Miguel returned.

Johnny addressed Aisha directly. "Okay, take off your shoes. Hop on the mat. After further review, I've decided to allow female students. But if you want to be in Cobra Kai, you can't act like a girl."

Aisha frowned. "What do you mean? How do girls act?"

Johnny continued, "Oh, don't give me that—you know, all emotional, loud, complain-y, never letting you finish a sentence."

Zeke interjected with a smirk, "I don't think that'll be much of an issue."

Aisha was about to retort, "Well, I know a few guys who act just—"

"Quiet!" Johnny cut her off. "My student tells me you've been harassed at school."

"Yeah," Aisha admitted. "Mostly online. I get mean texts and emails sent to me. Makes me not want to go."

"And who sends you these messages?" Johnny asked.

"Well, they're mostly anonymous," Aisha explained. "These kids create fake accounts, and they tell me things like I'm ugly and that I should kill myself."

Zeke shook his head, "That's very messed up."

Johnny's expression darkened. "Oh, my God. What a bunch of pussies. Back in my day, if you wanted to tease someone, you did it to their face. There was honor, respect. These geeks hiding behind their computers, what a bunch of spineless losers. You're not afraid of these losers, are you?"

"No," Aisha said firmly.

"Are you gonna take shit from these losers?"

"No," Aisha repeated, her voice stronger.

Johnny nodded approvingly. "Good, because when I'm done with you, you're gonna be sending a message back, only it's not gonna be with your keyboard. It's gonna be with your fists."

Zeke watched as Aisha's determination solidified. He knew she had found the right place to fight back.

🐍

Zeke navigated through the cafeteria, aware of the whispers and snickers that filled the air. All eyes were on Sam as she entered, the target of crude jokes and mockery from the other students.

Sam scanned the room for a place to sit, but every table seemed occupied or off-limits. She stood alone, humiliated, as the taunts and laughter echoed around her.

Her anger boiling over, Sam stormed toward Kyler and his friends, her arms crossed in defiance.

"You think it's funny to spread lies about me?" she demanded, her voice trembling with rage.

Kyler's smirk widened. "What are you talking about? We just saw a movie. Well, maybe I saw a bit more than you."

His friends laughed, further fueling Sam's fury.

"Yeah, we heard you got pretty 'choked up'," Brucks added mockingly.

Sam, unable to contain her anger, knocked Kyler's tray to the floor, causing a collective gasp to ripple through the cafeteria.

Zeke, sitting nearby, exchanged a concerned glance with Miguel, who had just arrived.