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El Serpiente y El Halcón

Summary:

The students of the combined Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang dojos train for the All-Valley Tournament, while the teaching styles of their respective Senseis clash. Miguel tries to navigate romance while also getting back into top fighting shape. And as Hawk struggles to rehabilitate himself after leaving Cobra Kai, he must also face feelings of a different sort.

A Post-Season 03 Fic

Chapter 1: Meditation

Chapter Text

Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso were arguing. Again.

 

Meanwhile, a dozen students comprising the two dojos of their respective quarreling karate teachers lounged in boredom in the backyard of the Miyagi-Do dojo. Bert held his glasses up to the sun to check for smudges, while Nathaniel cleaned out his ear with his pinky finger beside him, sending flecks of earwax in Bert’s direction. Mitch and Chris were getting into an impassioned debate about professional wrestling that sounded like serious business. 

 

Hawk sighed and leaned back on his elbows in the grass, squinting from the sunlight beaming down on them. The alienness of the serene surroundings still hadn’t worn off yet. Miyagi-Do definitely had a completely different feel than the sterile atmosphere of a strip mall dojo. 

 

More than once, he’d caught his eyes drifting around, looking for any sign of his vandalism from earlier in the summer. Maybe a piece of forgotten graffiti, or a piece of trash not picked up. But he found none. Miyagi-Do had long-since cleaned up the damage. Like it had never happened at all.

 

Shifting in discomfort, Hawk raised an eyebrow at the lanky boy next to him; the one with his face glued to his phone. “So, is practice always this intense around here?” Hawk asked him, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.

 

“Only since you guys showed up,” Demetri delivered right back without missing a beat or lifting his eyes from his phone. “Usually we’d be through our katas by now, but it seems like your Sensei can’t go five minutes without finding something to whinge about.”

 

Hawk smirked and opened his mouth to make a sharp comment about Demetri knowing more about incessant whinging than anybody else on the planet. But he caught himself, swallowing the words back down his throat before they could come out in an unnecessarily mean way. It had been a reflex. How quickly had he grown accustomed to that?

 

He shifted in his spot again. “Well, Miyagi-Do’s style is really different than Cobra Kai’s,” he said instead. Then, catching himself, he amended, “I mean Eagle Fang’s.” Hawk’s eyebrows creased. He still wasn’t used to the change, both the name of Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo and that he was part of it now. 

 

"That much has been obvious from the start,” quipped Demetri, typing away with his thumbs.

 

Closing his mouth so he didn’t say anything else, Hawk let his eyes wander around, this time to the front of the group. His gaze settled on the backs of Miguel’s and Sam’s heads. The two of them were leaning in close to one another, saying something he couldn’t hear with Mitch and Chris arguing behind him.

 

But Hawk did catch the way Sam laughed, he saw how she slid her hand between them to wrap her fingers over Miguel’s. Seeing that, the corner of Hawk’s mouth twitched, and his eyebrows knitted closer together. 

 

“You up for that In-N-Out after practice?” asked Miguel, curling his toes inside his sneakers in excitement. 

 

Sam’s smile lit up her whole face while she extended her left leg to stretch the muscles out. Her smile made Miguel want to melt into a puddle. “I’m not getting you addicted to that place, am I?”

 

Miguel chuckled, shrugging like he’d been found out. One drive-thru trip in Sam’s car before heading to practice the previous weekend, and now he wanted to go practically every day. The two were permanently associated together in his brain now, along with octopi. “What can I say? Their fries are the bomb, you were right. Oh, and those shakes! Can’t forget the shakes. You wanna split a large chocolate one? My treat.”

 

“As if, I’m getting my own large shake,” Sam joked back, swapping to her right leg to stretch.

 

Miguel bit his bottom lip for a second, which morphed into a cheesy grin. Laying on what he hoped were the biggest puppy dog eyes he could manage, he playfully said, “So, is this a date then? Or not a date?”

 

“Definitely a date,” affirmed Sam.

 

“Excellent!” exclaimed Miguel, raising his free fist in a cheer. Only to immediately cringe when he heard the others around them cut off their conversations and go quiet. Looking over his shoulder, the other guys had their eyes on him now. Nate had his pinky stuck in his ear and stared at him, while Bert had a suggestive smirk on his face. Chris’s brows were furrowed deep, while Mitch shot him a thumb’s up. Hawk looked peeved for some reason, and Demetri had his eyes glued to his phone, seemingly the only one who hadn’t heard him. 

 

Lowering his fist back down fast, Miguel turned back around and cleared his throat. “Um, I mean, y’know, that’s great,” he stammered, trying to recover from looking like the most desperate guy on the planet. He was trying way too hard.

 

Thankfully, Sam let it go. “Alright so you pay and I drive, how’s that sound?”

 

Unable to help himself, Miguel emphasized, “Sounds like a date.”

 

They were pulled from their fun conversation when Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso came walking towards the group. With their contorted faces and gesticulating hands, they still looked as heated as before, and Miguel could hear them arguing the entire way up. 

 

“Why don’t you actually teach them something that’s useful for a change?” demanded Sensei Lawrence. “We’re here to get them ready for the All-Valley. This is a karate dojo, not a yoga class.” His eyes scanned the garden. “Well, not much of a karate dojo, really.”

 

“Back off, Johnny,” warned Mr. LaRusso, near close to shoving a finger against his chest. “Meditation is going to teach them about inner focus, and it’ll help with their breathing exercises. All martial arts focus on that. Surely you’ve taught your kids breathing exercises, right?”

 

Sensei Lawrence hesitated for a second. “My kids know how to breathe already.” He looked at Miguel and said, “Diaz, tell Mr. LaRusso here how I chucked that asthma shit against the wall and that got you breathing just fine.”

 

Miguel winced into his shoulders a bit. “Um, well, actually Sensei—”

 

With a sigh, Mr. LaRusso crossed his arms and cut in, saying, “Listen, Sensei Lawrence, we agreed we would be teaching both styles here. And Miyagi-Do style karate is just as mental as it is physical. So why don’t you set the example and join me in showing these kids the proper meditation technique, huh?”

 

“Yeah, go ahead and waste their time with that hippy shit, I’ll sit this one out,” mumbled Sensei Lawrence, rolling his eyes and making his way over to the water cooler available for the students. Reaching in, he dug through the ice and pulled out the can of Coors he’d buried in there earlier. Cracking it open, he strolled up the wooden walkway to the house, calling out, “Come get me when we start singing Kumbaya.”

 

Watching him leave, Miguel’s cheeks heated up; and he knew he couldn’t blame that on the sunlight. He ran a hand through the back of his hair in embarrassment. Even if Sensei disagreed with the lesson, did he have to make such a scene?

 

Mr. LaRusso’s jaw looked like it could crack a nut, it was clenched so tight. “Alright,” he strained, “while Sensei Lawrence takes a break, why don’t we get started?”

 

Sam glanced at Miguel, tilting her head, sending her long braided falling over her shoulder. “Why can’t your Sensei at least give our methods a fair shot?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. 

 

Miguel pulled his legs into a cross-sitting position, resting his hands on his knees. “He needs a little time to adjust to this. We knew this sort of thing would happen,” he offered in Sensei Lawrence’s defense, his mouth wavering into a frown. And, after a moment’s hesitation, he added, “And if we’re being fair, ever since we combined our groups, your dad has kinda been calling most of the shots around here.”

 

It was true, but he ought to have known that was the wrong thing to say. Sam’s expression tightened and all traces are her previous smile vanished when she pressed her lips together. “My dad’s been working really hard to accommodate everyone,” she said in return. “And he’s not used to a class this big. It’s not usually how things are done with Miyagi-style karate. He’s just trying to help get everyone on the same page, to get us to work as a group.”

 

“Sam, I—”

 

“Let’s just do the exercise,” Sam cut in, looking straight ahead at her father.

 

Miguel could feel his muscles in his neck tense from that whiplash. He wanted to say more but decided to drop it for the time being. “Yeah. Okay.” He hadn’t meant to start an argument, that was for sure. But when her father was the teacher of Miyagi-Do, and his methods were so wildly different than Sensei Lawrence’s, it was inevitable that they wouldn’t always see eye-to-eye; that was why the teams had the Sensei Dispute Resolution Protocol, after all.

 

He hadn’t meant his criticism as an insult to Mr. LaRusso though. He’d been getting to really like Mr. LaRusso, in fact. Sam had to know that.

 

Arching a skeptical eyebrow on his forehead, Hawk let out an aggravated sigh as he sat up. Demetri clapping his shoulder warmly didn’t make him anymore excited about the exercise than he’d been when Mr. LaRusso first announced it. The whole thing still sounded lame. 

 

“Give it a try,” suggested Demetri, probably seeing the skepticism clear across his face as his free hand slipped his cellphone back into his pant’s pocket.

 

Hawk gave a single nod, still not into it. “Yeah,” he mumbled, fidgeting his fingers.

 

That healthy dose of inner peace stuff again. Hawk reminded himself to try and be more open-minded, even though nothing about this felt like it could make him stronger. But at least he was back with his friends again, right? That was what mattered.

 

Mr. LaRusso collected himself, sitting down in front of the group as they all got ready. “Alright, everyone, relax, close your eyes. And now start taking deep, steady breaths.” He paused a moment to lead by example, showing them what to do. He took one, two, three deep breaths, letting them out steadily. “That’s it, keep your backs straight, heads up, and shoulders relaxed.”

 

With a skeptical twist of his mouth, Hawk looked around at the teams. Bert was taking advantage of Nathaniel’s eyes being closed to take a long strand of grass and run it along the back of his neck, pulling back whenever Nate reached his hand back to smack at what he probably thought was a mosquito. 

 

Mitch actually did at least appear to be giving it a try, cracking open his eyes every few seconds to look at Chris and see if he was doing it right, or if there was something more to this that he didn’t understand the point of.

 

Hawk couldn’t see Miguel’s expression, only the back of his head. He wondered what his friend was making of all this tranquility bullshit. Or, judging by the way he leaned in closer to Sam, Hawk wondered if Miguel was really paying any attention to the lesson at all.

 

Oh well. Good for him, right?

 

“Everyone do it again with me,” instructed Mr. LaRusso. “That’s right, Mitch, shoulders relaxed. Take a deep breath in….”

 

Rolling his eyes before closing them, Hawk decided to put in the bare minimum effort of participating. He took in a heavy breath and let it out when Mr. LaRusso told them to. Then he did it again, sounding more like a sigh when it escaped his mouth. He followed along for the third and fourth times, as well.

 

He could practically feel Demetri breathing beside him. He heard him as all their breathings synchronized. In and out. In and out. 

 

He got so relaxed, his mind started conjuring up memories like a daydream. Blue, purple, pink lights. He saw Demetri on the ground. He was kneeling on top of him, contorting Demetri’s arm behind his back. No, it wasn’t Demetri. It was Robby. Miguel had Robby’s arm gripped. He let him go. But Hawk wouldn’t. He wouldn’t make that same mistake. He scowled, tightening his grip around Demetri’s arm before giving it a sharp twist….

 

Hawk’s eyes snapped open as he let out a sharp breath. Blinking rapidly, he gave a quick glance beside him at Demetri, who released his breath at the same time as they were all instructed to.

 

“Alright, great job,” praised Mr. LaRusso. “Let’s take a ten minute water break, and then we’ll get ready for some warm ups.”

 

“Yeah, looks you kids sure worked up a real sweat,” called out Sensei Lawrence while he strolled down the walkway and behind Mr. LaRusso. “Maybe we need to hose all of you guys off, that was some intense practicing. I bet you all smell like a bunch of pigs right now.”

 

While Mr. LaRusso turned around to start arguing with Sensei Lawrence again, Miguel stood up off the ground and walked over to the cool to grab a bottle of water. He’d taken a couple of gulps out of it when he felt a light touch on his arm. 

 

“Hey,” said Sam. She had a shy smile on her face.

 

Miguel gave a little smile back. “Hey.”

 

“Sorry for getting a little snappy back there,” Sam apologized, wrapping her hands around her elbows.

 

Shaking his head, Miguel told her, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

 

But Sam had that look on her face that said she was worried about it. “Things just haven’t been going as smoothly as I’d hoped they would between our groups. Sometimes it really does hit me that our styles of karate are so different, y’know?”

 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” said Miguel, taking another sip of his water. He didn’t think things were going all that bad. It could’ve been much worse. Considering all the tension that had existed between their dojos, Miguel didn’t know how things could possibly be running smoother than they currently were. 

 

For sure, he did prefer Sensei Lawrence’s offense-based form of karate, but that didn’t mean there was nothing Eagle Fang couldn’t learn from Miyagi-Do. Or vice-versa. Both teams had a lot to offer the other if both were willing. “Like, this meditation exercise,” continued Miguel. “That was…interesting. Very relaxing. Gives you a real chance to clear your head.”

 

That made Sam’s smile widen. “I’m glad you’re being open-minded about it.”

 

“Of course,” replied Miguel. “And I know there’s gonna be some Eagle Fang exercises you guys are gonna got nuts for. They’re super fun, they really get you pumped up.”

 

Sam gave a little nod. It looked like a hesitated one.

 

But when she opened her mouth to say something, Mitch cut in between the two of them to reach into the water cooler. “Oh totally,” he agreed, nodding at Miguel. “Like that thing when Sensei throws the baseball at our heads to teach us how to dodge better. Let’s see these Miyagi-Dos beat us at that.”

 

“Man, you guys have the weirdest ideas about what fun is,” said Chris, shaking his head while he reached down to grab his own bottle of water.

 

The two of them continued debating the merits of having a ball chucked at their heads as a means of testing agility while they wandered over to the stone ornament to enjoy the rest of their break. Miguel gave Sam a look and they both couldn’t contain their grins.

 

“Remember, two dojos are better than one, right?” Miguel reminded her.

 

Sam nodded again, firmer this time. “Right.”

 

She reached down to his sides and wrapped her hands around his. Miguel leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, giving her a quick kiss. The one good thing about her father having already seen them all but make out before was that, at last, they didn’t have to hide this from Mr. LaRusso, or anybody else, anymore.

 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Hawk leaned against the tree, tightening his brows to the bridge of his nose. He watched Miguel and Sam break their kiss, pressing his mouth in a thin line when Miguel wrapped his arm over her shoulders and led them across the little wooden bridge. 

 

“What’s that look for?”

 

Hawk almost started, glancing next to him to see Demetri had come up to stand by his side. “What look?” he asked defensively. 

 

Taking his cellphone out of his pocket, Demetri retorted, “Listen, I’ve been on the receiving end of your acidic glares over the past half-year, so I know plenty by now when you’re pissed about something. So why don’t we just cut to the chase? What? You’re still mad because Miguel’s dating a member of Miyagi-Do?”

 

“No,” snipped Hawk, rolling his shoulder back. 

 

While his thumbs went flying across the virtual keyboard, Demetri said, “That’s good. Because the whole deal of you leaving Cobra Kai was that you’d also leave the worst trappings of tribalism behind you for good, right?” 

 

Hawk’s eyes fell on Demetri’s right arm and lingered there for a moment. He felt something lodge in his chest. “Yeah.” His eyes traveled up to Demetri’s phone in his hands. Trying to get the attention off himself, he asked, “Who’s been blowing up your phone?”

 

“Yasmine,” answered Demetri, sending another text. “We were trying to coordinate on our science paper together, but, well, let’s just say she’s more interested in biology than ecology at the moment, if you catch my drift.”

 

Hawk snorted. “Nice.” He still couldn’t believe Demetri had managed to score with Yasmine, of all people. But apparently they were still making it work, in their own way. 

 

“But as I was saying,” continued Demetri, defeating the purpose of Hawk trying to change the subject, “if you don’t have any problems now with cross-dojo dating, then why are you sending death glares in Miguel’s direction? Please don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed a thing for Sam.”

 

Hawk felt his cheeks heat up, and his eyes darted away. 

 

A smirk curled up the side of Demetri’s face. “Oh no, get out of here. Really? Listen, you’re my binary brother, so I’m just gonna tell you right now that is never gonna happen. You and I might be on the path of repairing the damage caused by your Cobra Kai crusade, but Sam over there? She’s not really your biggest fan. I mean, maybe given more time she’ll at least come around to liking you, but you two together? Not gonna happen, my man.”

 

“I don’t have a thing for Sam,” Hawk argued, feeling the warm blood under his skin travel from his cheeks all the way to his ears. He hoped his face wasn’t beet-red.

 

“Yeah right,” laughed Demetri, shaking his head while he glanced back down at his phone. “Next you’ll be telling me you were jealous of Sam because you’re actually crushing on Miguel instead.”

 

Hawk’s heart jumped to his throat. He wanted to snap at Demetri right then, to tell him to shut his fucking face and mind his business. That was his first instinct, but he fought to overcome it. Demetri was his friend again; a friend he’d hurt so bad. He was just being curious and teasing him like he used to back before karate came to the Valley. Hawk should have responded with a witty joke or something. 

 

But his brain must have short-circuited, because, for the first time in months, he lost his words. “Uh, I uh….”

 

Demetri paused in the middle of his text and looked at Hawk again. When their eyes met, his mouth opened, hanging slightly agape, and Hawk watched his dark brows rise in surprise. “Eli?”

 

Hawk could tell by that look. Demetri had put it together. He’d figured it out. And the only thing Hawk could think to say was, “Please don’t tell him.”