Similarly to last year, this is not where I saw myself on my birthday. In the hospital, with a fractured hand. That being said, they should be clearing me to go later today. Still not the most preferable way to spend one's birthday.
"If I remember correctly, a certain beautiful, intelligent, ass-kicking girlfriend of mine has a birthday today," Robby says as he walks in, a gift bag in hand. I laugh lightly. Aw... he's wearing my jacket- the one that my mamá embroidered roses on the hood of. It looks really good on him.
"I don't know about ass-kicking anymore, but thank you, mi amor," I say, accepting the gift, "you didn't have to get me anything though."
"Like I wasn't gonna get you something for your birthday," he waves away, sitting at my side. Still. I never want him to feel pressured to get me anything. I shake my head, but smile. I might as well open it. I'm intrigued as to what it could be. He's already given me a kubotan and sais- the later of which I intend to use for forms at the taekwondo All Valley, if I can compete that is...-, I have a katana, bo staff, escrima sticks, nunchucks, kamas- any weapon we've used in taekwondo, I own by now, so I'm assuming it's not something like that. I already have rings and a necklace from him, the former I wear almost every single day. I have him, I have my friends, I have my balance- I have everything I need.
"Before you open it and are like 'Robby what the hell', I tried to do stuff that didn't have to do with karate... I figured you could use a break from people acting like it's the only thing you ever do," he warns as I take out the tissue paper. Wait, that's actually really sweet... I appreciate that a lot.
"That's actually really nice, thank you," I respond. He looks relieved and also satisfied with himself.
I pull the first thing out, finding a small box. Doing all this with one hand is proving to be difficult, especially because they gave me a sling to wear for the next few days so I don't move my hand around as much. It's like they know me. Upon managing to get it open, I find a bracelet. Gold, my favorite.
"It says-"
"'I love you Park Reyes' in Morse Code," I say, managing to decipher the message, "I love you too Robert."
He gives me a look, but also seems impressed.
"You know Morse Code?" he asks.
"I spent a lot of time staying up in my room, waiting for the coast to be clear. Figured I'd learn something useful. I'm just surprised I remember it," I say. That's when things were different. It's funny to think that one year ago today, I was running away from my papá, taking refuge at the LaRusso household, and now, they're taking custody of me. In a couple months, it'll be official, and my dad won't have any legal ties to me. Then I'll finally, finally be free.
"You get more and more amazing every day," he says, making me blush a little, "and I got it in anklet size because I know you don't like things other than a hair tie on your wrist."
He knows me too well. Things on my wrist besides hair ties end up distracting me because I'm not used to them, and it drives me crazy. I can't help but grin, then pull out the next thing. It's a photo album... as I start flipping through it, I find it filled with pictures. Most of them are of him and I, but some have Sam or Mr LaRusso or Tory or Kenny or Demetri or some combination of those people. Some are just him. Some are just me. They go back as far as we've been friends. There are so many. This is- this is incredible.
"If you look on the back of them, I wrote stuff on all of them," Robby says. I look up at him sharply. He wrote on the back of all of these pictures...?
"You wrote on every single one of these?" I ask.
"Yeah. Just little notes and stuff like that. Gave me something to do while I was waiting for you to wake up," he says. As someone whose love language is words of affirmation, this is quite possibly the sweetest gift he could ever give me.
"Robby I- I don't know what to say," I stammer, tears in my eyes. I can't wait to go through and read all of them.
"Do you like it?" he asks. Oh my sweet ray of sunshine.
"Like it? I love it! You're just- you- I- wow... gracias, Robby," I say, almost bouncing a little in the bed.
"Of course, babe," he says, grinning, "there should be one more thing in there too."
There's more? I look in the bag. Sure enough, there is one more thing.
"Robby Keene is this a multi-tool?"
"I know you like to fix things!"
I can't help but laugh, completely and one-hundred percent in love.
"You're not wrong, I do love fixing things, and I was needing a new tool, so thank you," I say.
"You're welcome," he says, "I figure you could use it to-"
"If you're about to make a 'do me- I mean the lights, for free' joke, I am going to kick you out of this hospital room,"
"You know me too well,"
"I so do,"
—
"I think I could live off of rice for at least a year,"
"Really? Even if you couldn't like do anything to it?"
"That makes it a little trickier, but there have been plenty of days in the past year where money has been tight and I've gone home and just eaten rice, so yeah, even if I couldn't do anything to it,"
"Damn,"
"I think you underestimate just how much I fucking love rice," I say, looking over at Robby, who's grinning. These are the kinda of conversations we have that I absolutely adore. Although I'm getting the feeling that Robby has more on his mind than what food I could eat every day and not get tired of. He keeps doing that... thing... it's something that I do, actually. Stay quiet for a long period of time while I try and think of how to say what I want to say. Then I'll open my mouth to speak but nothing will come out. Then I'll stall with something that's probably completely unrelated.
"Robby?" I ask, "what's on your mind? Besides what we were just talking about."
"Besides what we were just talking about? Nothing," he shrugs. He's still so good at lying. Although I think part of him knows that I know that he's lying.
"Amore,"
"Evidence?"
"Lets see, you were really quiet for a long time, then you opened your mouth like you were gonna say something but chickened out like seven times, then you asked me something that in no way warranted the chickening out, and now, you're trying to further avoid the difficult thing you want to talk to me about by asking me to tell you how I know that you're lying to me about not having anything else on your mind besides what food we could eat for a year without getting tired of it," I say, indulging his question, "now. I'm gonna ask you again: what's on your mind?"
Robby sighs. I'm a little- okay, a lot- concerned as to what it is he could want to talk to me about that would make him so nervous that he would chicken out of saying it seven times. That being said, I wanna know what he's thinking about so I can stop worrying about it.
"It's just... earlier, when I said you were 'ass-kicking', you said 'I don't know about ass-kicking anymore'..." he says, not quite meeting my eyes, "what were you trying to say?"
My heart pangs. He picked up on that... of course. I mean, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want him to know. I'm kinda surprised it took this long for him to say anything about it. I figured he would've questioned it in the moment.
"I mean... it's pretty obvious, isn't it..? Mírame, look at me, Robby. My hand is fractured. I sent myself into a hyperventilating fit. I've been hearing voices, I've had countless mental breakdowns, my left knee and ankle will never be the same, I'm covered in scars, I've had multiple ribs damaged, my nose has been broken more than once, I've had more nightmares than I can count on my fingers and toes, I had to ask my therapist if I'm literally going crazy. All because of karate. All because I've kept fighting all this time. I'm done," I say, tears starting to blur my vision and build in my throat, "Mr LaRusso was right. This isn't my fight."
"Park... what?" Robby asks in pure shock. It hurts me to say it, it really does. I've been fighting for so long now... and I'm so, so tired. And after two nights ago? When I pushed myself to my breaking point? I now realize just how dangerous it is to keep pushing myself the way I have been. I can't afford to keep putting myself in precarious positions where I usually end up getting hurt worse than most. Literally, I can't afford it, I'm living paycheck to paycheck. I got lucky this time, what with my dad swooping in out of nowhere and paying the hospital bill for the first time in probably three years. But I can't trust that something like that will happen again, even if he did say he'd do it a thousand times again. When my mom died, he said he would always take care of me and my brothers. Look how that turned out.
"For the past year, martial arts has been basically my entire life. When I went on that trip with my show choir and I was just away from all of it for the weekend, it was so... freeing. Like I didn't have to worry if a fight would break out. My biggest concern was whether or not my group would win, not whether or not somebody would snap and attack me and my friends and potentially put me in the hospital. I had to fight tooth and nail to keep my GPA as high as it is, and the obsession with karate almost jeopardized that. I can't afford to let my education slip, what with the field I wanna go into. Karate isn't forever... whether I like it or not..." I say, tears slipping out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. It's true.
"We're in this together whether we like it or not... that's what we've said from the beginning... and I hate to break it to you, but I'm still in this... and so are you..." he says, "let us help you, let me help you... starting with letting me ask what you mean by hearing voices..?"
"Ever since the All Valley, every so often, I'll hear a voice, repeating things he's already said to me, and it's so clear and vivid that I can almost see the place that he said it to me in... and you wanna know who that voice belongs to? Terry Silver. This karate war is literally driving me to insanity. I can't keep living like this; I'm going crazy, Robby. I'm done. I'll switch to patterns instructor and front desk at taekwondo, but I'm done fighting," I say. I just want to be a normal kid... a normal kid who doesn't have to worry about some psychopath asking her to break solid fucking stone in order to protect the place she's lived since she was eight years old.
"Park.. you're not going crazy,"
"Robby, normal people who aren't at least a little crazy don't hear voices. They don't make their hands bleed from training so much. They don't end up in the fucking hospital because their lungs gave out while pushing themselves too hard," I say, "I don't think there's anything you could say that will make me go back to fighting. I'll always protect you... but you all don't need me in order to be safe-"
"Yes, we do," Robby says, cutting me off.
"No, you don't. You're all really good fighters, and you know what, if there is a deficit created in my absence, then you'll all make up for it, that's how stuff like that works," I return.
"You don't get it because you're humble, Park. We need you. Miyagi-Do needs you. Eagle Fang needs you. Cobra Kai needs you more than anyone. Y'know why? Because like it or not, you're a damn good fighter, probably one of the best in the Valley. Silver wouldn't target you if you weren't a threat to him,"
"Well now I've been targeted, I've been hit, and I'm done. He wins, checkmate, I surrender," I say definitely, though the words don't feel... right... Robby gently wipes some of the tears from my face.
"The only way Silver wins is if you quit... you've been fighting for as long as you have because you protect people. You've protected me... you've protected Miguel... I don't think there's a single person on our team that you haven't stood up for somehow. I know you're tired of fighting. And I know you're tired of this war- so am I... but the war doesn't end just because you run away from it... and people are still gonna get hurt... and you're probably still gonna get hurt too... but instead of putting up a fight, or at the very least putting up an effort to defend yourself, it's all for nothing," Robby says,
"when I came back from Mexico, I found you all beat up because you had been training to make yourself better so you could protect the people you love... but I don't know how much of that was for that reason, and how much of it was because you felt guilty that you had let everyone down by not winning against someone who probably cheated to win- and you didn't let any of us down. You've been fighting for over half your life now, and I don't believe that the Parker Reyes I know is just going to stop fighting now that she's proven to her greatest opposition that she is everything she's cracked up to be and more. You can protect the people you care about without obsessing over it, I've seen you do it before. I've also seen you say you're not going to fight anymore and then get dragged back into it... so do you want to put the fight back in your hands, or do you want to be dragged back to it?"
Dios mío, he's right. I know he's right. I know that whether I like it or not, this war is happening and there's no backing out of it... I just wish me not wanting to get hurt anymore didn't mean the people I care about will get hurt...
"I can't end up back here..." I say, voice just above a whisper. His face softens.
"And you won't. There's gotta be a balance between hurting yourself so others don't get hurt, and just... protecting the people you care about. And if there's anyone who can find that balance, it's you. You found a balance between taekwondo and karate. You found a balance between every fighting style you've ever learned. You've helped me find my balance," Robby says, "just think about it okay? I'll always love you. I'll always have your back no matter what. But we're also in this together whether we like it or not."
All I can do is nod a little. God, I hope he's right. I want there to be a way that I can still do what matters most to me- protecting people- and also keep myself safe. And maybe that comes with accepting the fact that I can't do everything by myself. That I also need protecting...
"If you can't tell, your therapist was here for a while when you were first out, and we talked for like, thirty minutes. She's really cool," Robby says. I manage to crack a small smile. Of course.
"Should've known," I say, using my good hand to wipe away tears. Robby smiles a little too, which warms my heart, just like always.
"You really should've,"
——
They finally released me from the hospital. Luckily, Robby brought me some clothes so I wouldn't have to wear my dobok out of the hospital. He practically had to fight me for the keys to my car so I wouldn't drive. Then he ushered me up to my apartment, and told me to shower and put on a cute outfit and meet him at the Diaz apartment when I was done, then ran away. Sometimes he's weird like that, I'm just rolling with it.
Showering for the first time was not fun, but I managed. I also managed to get the bandages back on my knuckles- it looks really gross- and the brace, then I got dressed in the cute little tube top that I don't think I've worn since Christmas and some shorts, then the sling, then Robby's green jacket that I kinda just draped over my shoulders. I'm kind of scared as to what could possibly be happening in the Diaz apartment that requires me to look cute, but I guess I'm about to find out. I knock on the door. Y'know, it occurs to me now that I don't technically have to raise my hand to knock on the door. Actually, no, that's weird, I'm never gonna not raise my hand to knock on a door.
Somebody opens the door and I don't see anything out of the ordinary at first. ¿Qué..?
"Surprise!" at least five different voices exclaim in unison, startling me into a defensive position.
"Woah woah woah, Park, it's just us," Robby says, alight laugh in his voice as he appears from behind the door, putting a light hand on my back, then leans in close, "'not fighting again' my ass."
"Cállate," I whisper to him, then survey my surroundings. As I look around, I see Robby-obviously-, Ms Diaz, Miguel, Mr Lawrence, Abuela Diaz, Mr and Mrs LaRusso, Eli, Demetri, Cameron, Sam, even Anthony and Moon, and-
"¡Abuelita!" I exclaim. I haven't seen her since she left! I run over to her, attacking her with a huge hug. She returns the embrace. There are already tears in my eyes, ay dios mío. I never got to say a proper goodbye because I just stormed off. I've missed her so much. I think if she had still been here, then maybe I could've avoided the hospital. But she's back for now, and that's all that matters. All I can do is say 'lo siento' over and over again, and she just tells me it's okay every time.
"We can talk more later, mi nieta," she says, as she releases me from the embrace, "but right now? It would be a shame to let this amazing fiesta go to waste. Feliz cumpleaños, corazóncita."
I can't help but laugh in relief and joy and so many other things I don't want to waste time trying to name. The people I care about so, so much are here, to celebrate... me... they care that much... all the people I love... the people I've fought so hard to protect this past year... they're here for me now... looking back at all of their grinning faces, I can't help but ask myself... even if it hurts, even if I'm tired of feeling a bodyguard for my friends... can I ever really stop fighting to protect these people..?
• • •
A/N - c'mon guys i think we know what she's gonna choose (probably 👀)
stay safe and take care of yourselves <3