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Listen. Robby doesn't want to fight anymore.
He is, at his core, a people-pleaser. It's probably pathological at this point. There are exceptions, but he’s very good at knowing what people want, and how to conform to what they expect of him. It’s a learned skill — and an unhealthy one. He knows that. It’s like constantly having an identity crisis. Because how can anyone ever truly know who they are if they’re constantly changing themself to meet other people’s needs?
Sometimes he forgets himself. Some days he can't even tell if this is really him or if he's just playing a role. That's how deep in he is. It's fucked. But he stays, because what other option is there?
He's spent so much time fighting. Not just in terms of karate, but fighting for a better life, for love, for validation, for respect — but he kept screwing it up, and this is where he ends up. This is as good as it gets. He'd be greedy to ask for more.
But there are also days where he misses fighting. He misses being selfish. He misses being angry. He misses wanting something for himself. Robby’s self-esteem has never been very high, but there was a time when he genuinely thought, I deserve better.
But this is all he has, and it should be enough.
And yet. Sometimes his head breaches water and he remembers why he hated it here in the first place. Hated the family bullshit and hated the role it put him in. He remembers how to be angry, to be selfish, to be greedy, to want. He remembers how to fight, in ways that aren't just physical.
Winning the Sekai Taikai wasn't just about vanity, or satisfaction, or proving himself — winning for the sake of winning. It was about opportunity. Building his own future. Because Miguel can fret over Stanford all he wants — fact is, he's got a great future cut out for him whether he gets into his dream school or not. Robby? This was all he had going for him. This was his ticket out.
It lit a fire under him. Robby felt more like his old self getting ready for the Taikai than he had since — hell, since he was in Cobra Kai.
So maybe he's just a bonus to the family, tacked on as a prop to make Johnny feel good about himself, a cardboard cutout of a human being — but the Sekai Taikai? That was something that couldn't be taken away from him.
But — fuck. A kid is dead. It's all so shit. None of it matters.
And the Sekai Taikai being taken away shouldn't hurt Robby too badly — because while his future prospects look bleak, his support system is goddamn stellar.
Once upon a time, Robby was sitting in the vice principal’s office of North Hills High having to wait until the end of the school day to leave because he didn't have any parents to drop their shit and pick him up after he'd gotten in trouble. He was dropping out of school with no one to stop him. He was getting beat up in juvie with no one to check on him. He was hungry and homeless and everyone was so wrapped up with the dojo rivalry to realize that for Robby, it was basically a matter of survival.
There were people who cared to some degree. Enough to feel guilty. But Robby has never had anyone in his life who loved him selflessly and without condition. There has never been a single person who consistently put him first. Who fought for him even when he pushed them away, even when he resisted and said he didn't need anyone.
And now? He's got a fucking army of adults who want what's best for him. He's got friends who will fight for him. He's got people who treat him like a human being. People who don't look at him and write him off as a lost cause. That's all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.
But is it true?
He only managed to achieve peace with these people once he gave up fighting. He had to make all the changes. He had to adapt, he had to bury the bad parts of himself to be accepted, he had to earn everyone's forgiveness when the blame goes both ways. How can he say that he's loved and supported wholeheartedly when he's only loved and supported when he's behaving himself? When he's not acting like the fuck-up he actually is?
Why, when he was Sekai Taikai captain and going through a mental crisis, did it take him falling on his ass in front of millions, over and over again, to receive the barest hint of moral support? Why was everyone’s first instinct to dogpile him instead of encourage him?
(He's pretty should that's not what they would have done if Miguel had been captain.)
Even Shannon, who actually did change for him, has moved on. She's got a new guy on her arm, and technically speaking, she's here, she's present, she wants what's best for him — but like Johnny, it's all too little and too late.
And to be fair, he’s nearly an adult and he doesn't expect the world to revolve around him. So he'd be okay with all of that if he at least got something practical out of it. He'd be okay with perpetually being in second place if it meant he at least got to graduate high school.
A lot of it is his fault. He made his own decisions. And blaming it on Mommy and Daddy not loving him enough is immature and petty and selfish. So he won't blame it on them. Or Miguel. Or the LaRussos. He's not that person.
But he's allowed to be mad.
He just doesn't think it’s totally fair that he is still paying for the consequences of one bad day — that he is just destined to be the eternal scapegoat, paying for everyone else’s sins as well as his own.
Robby thinks he's earned a fair shot. He might be a fuck-up, but he's trying. He's been trying. He's been fighting. Not for love, or support, or validation. Just for hope of a better future. How is it fair that his whole life is ruined because of something that he's already paid for at length? If he's able to forgive everyone in his life for their wrongdoings against him, shouldn't that earn him a fair shot at a normal, fulfilling life?
He knows — he's not going to cry or get mean or start throwing hands about it — but he doesn't really belong here like the others do. His place in the Lawrence-Diaz household is and will always be contingent on him acting accordingly. It was the same deal with the LaRussos — they'll call him family when things are good, and throw him out at the first sign of trouble. At the end of the day, he's a prop. A box to be checked. And just like the LaRussos, if he fucks this up, he'll be kicked to the curb.
But he needs a backup plan this time. He needs to know that if that shoe ever drops, he won't just be hung out to dry. And he won't have to burden Shannon or whatever guy she's with with his problems when no one else wants him. He needs something to fall back on, so it stings less. He needs to know that even if this big karate family thing doesn't work out, he’ll have some sort of safety net.
But he doesn't. And he won't.
So yeah. He has his mom, his dad, her boyfriend and his girlfriend, plus Mr. and Mrs. LaRusso willing to back him up. And that should be enough. That's more than he ever could have hoped for before.
But it's not a stable or a sustainable situation. Because at the end of the day, if he leaves, they'll still have each other, and he'll be the one left alone and miserable. He's just taking what he can get at this point.
But while he is sick and tired of fighting, he's also sick of settling.
As they exit Counsellor Blatt’s office, Patrick, Shannon's boyfriend, is babbling about how his step-cousin missed a year of school but still managed to graduate with the rest of his class — Robby doesn't care. Shannon touches his shoulder comfortingly while belatedly humming back in response to Patrick. Johnny looks mildly pissed and Carmen looks mildly concerned about Johnny being pissed.
“Field hockey,” Johnny mutters incredulously. “No way she was as good at field hockey as Robby is at karate.”
Carmen offers Robby a sympathetic smile as Robby shoots his idiot dad a look.
“Of course not,” Carmen agrees, probably just for Johnny's benefit.
“Lemme see those.” Johnny grabs the brochures that Counsellor Blatt gave him out of Robby’s hands, stopping in the middle of the hallway.
Robby sighs, long-suffering, as everyone else stops as well. Let Johnny have his fit.
“Jesus. Midway Industrial Training? School of fabrication? She must be joking, right?”
“That's what I'm saying,” Patrick cuts in. “Robby's earned a fair shot at a decent education! This is a total waste of his talents.”
“No one asked you,” Johnny says.
Patrick makes a face. “I was literally agreeing with you.”
“Listen, guy.” Johnny gives him a condescending look. He gestures to their little group. “This is a family thing. Okay? You're not a part of this.”
A family thing. Robby rolls his eyes without even meaning to.
“Johnny!” Shannon exclaims.
“Maybe now's not the time for this,” Carmen says placatingly.
Johnny huffs. “Well excuse me for not wanting my son to be stuck with some shitty blue-collar job for the rest of his life like I almost was—”
“Which is a sediment I’m on board with?” Patrick is incredulous.
“Yeah, well, you're not really any help in this situation, alright? I don't even know what you're doing here.”
“Johnny,” Shannon snaps. “Some respect.”
“What, ‘cause he's your boyfriend?” Johnny scoffs. “Like you haven't had enough of those.”
Shannon narrows her eyes. “What the hell is your problem? This is about Robby — and suddenly you're trying to start a fight? What happened to you being past this, huh?”
Johnny's jaw visibly clenches. Robby thinks it's absurd that his fuse is still this short — he shouldn't need Carmen's hand on his back to keep his composure.
Also, seeing his mom and dad argue again — dare he call it nostalgia? He almost managed to forget what this shit was like.
“You're right,” Johnny concedes. “I'm sorry.”
Shannon looks satisfied while Patrick nods back wearily.
“Don't even worry about it, man,” he says generously. “I get it, he's your kid. You get worked up over him. That's valid.”
“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “I'm just a little frustrated right now.”
On another day, Robby might have the energy to acknowledge that Johnny calming down instead of doubling down shows some growth.
“Yeah, you’re frustrated,” he deadpans. Johnny looks at him with surprise, like he forgot he was there. Typical.
“You know what?” Carmen pitches in, smiling politely. “It's a crappy situation all around.” She looks at Robby. “It's not fair for you.” She turns back to everyone. “Let's just go home, consider all the options. I don't think this means Robby is destined for… what Johnny said. We just have to think positively.”
Though his heart's not really in it, “Thanks,” Robby says, because Carmen really doesn't have any obligation to be here.
“We support you, regardless of how things pan out,” Carmen continues. She looks at Johnny pointedly. “Right, guys?”
Johnny looks distracted, but shakes himself out of it. “Yeah. Yeah, obviously.”
Johnny pats his back, and Robby looks at Shannon who offers a lukewarm smile.
He kind of doubts it.
Sprawled across the couch, Robby drags a hand down his face as he reads through the brochures given to him. There's nothing wrong with Midway or trade school or fabrication — it's just not what Robby has been working towards. Even if it’s not possible for him to go pro in karate, he was hoping he would find something that sounded more appealing to him.
After having come so close to actually making something of himself, knowing it's not gonna happen just makes it feel shittier.
It's funny — back when he first dropped out of North Hills High, he thought nothing of it. Logically, he understood that going to school would be good for him, but it was a shit place, with shit kids and shit teachers and he was probably gonna flunk out anyways. Back then, nothing felt like it mattered, so why bother? He wasn't thinking about his long-term future, what he wanted to be when he grew up, how he wanted to live his life and how he would get there. He just did what he had to to make it to tomorrow. It was all about survival — not really living.
He never genuinely considered the long-term until he met Mr. LaRusso. All that shit with the bonsai tree was somehow life-changing. It got him thinking about the type of person he wanted to be and motivated him to take action.
But all of Robby's plans since have gone to shit. His home with the LaRussos, Miyagi-Do, winning the All-Valley through Cobra Kai, and then the Sekai Taikai.
And now look at him.
“Hey,” Robby hears from behind him. He cranes his neck back to see Miguel enter the kitchen, and grunts back.
“My mom told me about the meeting with Counsellor Blatt,” Miguel tells him, rummaging through the fridge.
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess it didn't go that well.”
“Mm.”
“I didn't get into Stanford.”
Robby pauses. Slowly, he replies, “Okay.”
“I mean, I got deferred.”
“I already knew that.”
“Right.” Miguel comes over to the couch adjacent to him, plopping down as he chomps into an apple. “And after the way the Sekai Taikai ended, it's not like that's something I can really use to my advantage on an application.”
Robby really shouldn't go there, but — “You used the school fight on your last application.”
Miguel blinks. “I mean, I was the one that got injured that time, so.” A shrug.
“You were also the one who escalated the fight to begin with.”
“I—” Miguel looks thrown. “Wait, what are we doing?”
Robby takes a breath. He really shouldn't go there. “Nevermind. Sorry. What does your Stanford thing have to do with this?”
“Um.” Miguel regains his composure, shifting a bit. “I'm just saying, things aren't really going the right way for any of us.”
Robby sighs, looking up at the ceiling. He shakes his head. “How are you making this about you right now?”
“I’m… not.” Miguel faltered. “Sorry, I was just trying to make you feel better.”
“Why would that make me feel better?” Robby huffs. “It's Stanford. Most people don't get into Stanford.”
“Yeah…” Miguel grimaces. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn't be trying to compare my problems to yours right now.”
Robby shrugs.
“Basically, my point is — clearly the way the tournament turned out isn't gonna help you with your future prospects. And that really sucks.”
“Yeah.”
“And honestly, Counsellor Blatt —” Miguel frowns. “She’s sort of the kind of guidance counsellor who tries to, like, pigeonhole students down one academic path. And, sure, maybe you won't get to, like, go pro, or go to college like most people. And because of… stuff that happened in the past, maybe your options are pretty limited, and it feels like you're set up to be stuck with some shitty career for the rest of time—”
“Dude.” Robby facepalms. “Please shut up.”
“But there's always something!” Miguel tries.
“That's very fucking helpful, Miguel. Thank you so much.”
Miguel groans. “Wow, I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?”
“I appreciate what you're trying to do,” Robby says, “but I'm really not in the mood.”
“I just—” Miguel sighs. “Everything is shit. I get it.”
Robby pinches his lips. He understands Miguel is trying to… relate and empathize. And that's nice. And he understands that to an extent, Miguel is also disadvantaged, but he doesn't like the implication that they're in the same boat.
“The thing is, Miguel,” Robby explains, making eye contact but trying not to sound confrontational, “Stanford is your dream school, and it sucks that you might not get to go. But you have a lot of other options. You might not have all the money in the world to do everything you want, but your life is gonna be great.”
Miguel is silent for a few moments. “Yeah. Yeah, you're not wrong.”
“Ugh!” Robby abruptly sits up from the couch and rubs his eyes. Now he feels bad. “I'm sorry. I’ve just — I never used to give a shit about my future before, because I always figured it would turn out this way. But throwing a pity party isn't gonna help.”
“No, hey, I mean,” Miguel takes a bite out of his apple, “Everyone's entitled to a pity party now and again.”
The last time Robby had a pity party, he broke his life-long no-drinking rule, got absolutely wasted off of the strongest shit he had zero tolerance for, had sex with some random girl — all to numb the pain — then woke up the next morning with next to no memory of it. Feeling sick to his stomach, not just from the alcohol but from the disgust and the shame.
Feeling sorry for yourself is the bedrock to a life of misery. That's how you end up like Johnny. And that is the main thing Robby swore he'd never be.
“Listen, Robby.” Miguel takes on a determined tone. “You're gonna get out of this! I don't know how, but you're gonna fight, and you're gonna win! One way or another.”
“I appreciate the cheerleading,” Robby says wryly.
“Whatever, man.” Miguel waves him off, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on.
And, of course, there’s Miguel, who Robby genuinely considers a friend — maybe his best friend — and what does it say about Robby, that he had to basically submit for them to get here? Isn't their friendship just another example of Robby not fighting?
Fuck. Whatever.
While Miguel’s optimism has helped before, positive thinking isn't gonna get Robby out of this. This isn't about his mindset, it's about circumstances stacked against him.
What real choice is there, but to settle?