Chapter Text
Oh Mama I'm just havin' fun, on the stage in my heels, it's where I belong
Daniel LaRusso doesn't expect to get along with Johnny Lawrence at all. Okay, backing up- he honestly didn't expect to even see the guy again after they graduated and left high school. Which would have been absolutely fine; he clearly recalls thinking "whew, so glad I don't ever hafta see that guy again". After prom, and graduation - even as something seemed to sort of squirm and flip in his stomach.
But he's gone through a lot, first dealing with moving to the Valley in the first place, and then to help Mr Miyagi. Came back from Okinawa and wrote to Kumiko, saying how great it was to meet her and get to know her, and he hopes someday she'll be able to follow her dream, to come to America and he'll see her here dancing. And then he thinks that's super corny and dumb and he should probably just throw it away...
But he doesn't. He sends it.
And then he doesn't get anything back. Not until it's been long enough that he figures maybe they weren't it, or his words weren't enough, or came off weird, or something. But he also realizes that she's something perfect to him, like a piece of perfection rather than a person with flaws, and he realizes it isn't good for her to be up on that kind of pedestal.
Maybe he's just seeing the way Mr Miyagi sings and putters around his house and garden, creating his little bonsai shop. Knows how in love he is with Yukie, and realizes Kumiko needs someone who can actually be there for her, and stay.
Not someone who used all his college money to buy a plane ticket to Okinawa just to travel with his best friend. Oh sure, that's a nice thought- but Daniel had to deal with his mom demanding to know what is he going to DO now that he's back and has no money for school?! Or savings for anything, for that matter.
Daniel doesn't know. He realizes he goes too far with things too fast. That he still doesn't know the rules.
He's lucky his best friend has started a business with his bonsai trees. Mr Miyagi's Little Trees is turning out a profit. Not the biggest of course, but there's something to be said for the remnants of hippie culture and people wanting to have a green thumb. Besides that, the soothing sort of effect the trees have, not to mention the way Mr Miyagi is his wise old self with the people who come in, along with being funny in a way Daniel is awed by pretty much every time; and even if he doesn't directly say too much about it, Daniel brings letters from Yukie to his sensei, and he can tell it all starts to come together for him.
He knows he doesn't have that sort of relationship with Kumiko, just like he didn't with Ali, and the thing is ... he realizes he doesn't wAnt it. Not with her. She's really great, and super sweet, and he hopes they can continue to correspond and that they'll remain close friends for a long time, but that is different than having, or wanting to have, a romantic relationship.
He also knows, or thinks he knows, that his way of looking for or discovering a relationship - friendship or otherwise - doesn't work, isn't working, and hasn't really for a long time. Or maybe not ever. Not since he was thrown together with Kevin and Kenny back in Jersey, at least; but that was at a summer camp where they were in the same group. It's almost like they had to become friends, because what else could they do?
That might be harsh, Daniel doesn't know. He's never been as good with people as he wants to be. He supposes he's lucky he now lives in California, where he can go to a dimly-lit dance club and interact with people that he doesn't otherwise have to get to know if he doesn't want to. That way he won't disappoint them, or himself.
So here he is at a little past the age it used to be legal to drink, but younger than the new- nodding along to some music as blue and purple lights swoop across the space, people in sparkling outfits and high boots mix with jeans and T-shirts and leather jackets, and- what the hell is he noticing? Daniel sees a familiar blond head, red leather jacket that's being shrugged off broad shoulders and slung over a long, tan muscular arm, and said individual seems to be shouldering his way through dancers to reach the bar. Yelling over his shoulder "yeah yeah alright Tommy, but if you spill this drink you're fucking leaving"
A whine from another familiar person- this one tousle-haired, and more light brown than blond- behind the first guy tells Daniel he's exactly right in his recognition "aw but whyyy Johnny? C'mon man"
"Have a heart," overlaps with "jus' live a little" as three more guys, all familiar - damn, do the Cobras go everywhere together, still? Daniel wants to scoff, he figures they'd all been drinking together before getting here. Maybe showing up now just to come after some other people who aren't regular rich or normal....
"I'm living just fucking fine, but 'm not lettin' damn good whiskey go to waste!" Johnny turns, and Daniel sees that he's wearing a shirt that's pale pink and slightly sparkly over what appears to be a tight white tank top. He catches sight of a flash of something else, too, but isn't clear as Johnny's hands curl around the edge of the bar, its wood slightly sticky from drinks, probably, hopefully - and sharp blue eyes rise as the young man in question says "I'll have two vodka cranberries, a pineapple, a whiskey sour and a whiskey neat- LaRusso?"
It's almost comical, the way Johnny Lawrence, for that's who this is, Daniel would recognize the gold hair, those bangs, his eyes and height anywhere, not to mention the way he stops everything and stares at Daniel. That voice going a little higher as his eyes narrow. "Well hey, Johnny. Fancy meeting you here," Daniel says a little slowly, lifting eyes to the other's and his hand in a wave, even as the bartender raises eyebrows and taps on the bar to get Johnny's attention.
"I'm gonna need t' see some I.D."
It's definitely his own drink that makes Daniel's chest feel warm, his heart thump, and his stomach lurch. That or the fact this guy and his pals had tormented him until he won the All Valley tournament last year. Well, a year and a few months - actually, wait; it's almost been- it's more than two years ago at this point. Man.
Time flies.
Yeah, that must be it. It's gotta be.