Hello! Cobra Kai is life for me right now, and this is my first CK fanfic. This story begins in Episode 5, Counterbalance.

Disclaimer: Do not own any characters.

Chapter 1

Kirin Ichiban

Present Day

Daniel

I never expected to have a house with more than one bathroom in my lifetime, never mind the whole master en suite deal with a jet tub. And the apothecary jars with the bath bombs and creams and stuff, but that's all her. A lotta good luxury does when the door is closed and your wife isn't lettin' you in.

"Amanda?" I sigh into the door. "You don't have to hide when you dye your hair, the jig is up after eighteen years...don't know why you can't just go to a salon, anyhow. We can afford more than a, a six dollar box of Miss Clairol over here. "

"FYI?" she calls out. "No one under the age of eighty says 'Miss Clairol,' and I'm taking a bath."

"You uh…you need any help?"

"Keep digging, Daniel, really. Keep it up."

"C'maan," I groan, resting my head against the door. "I apologized about the thing with Zarcharian."

"The thing, right. Messing with the livelihood of the common folk is a thing for you now, and mortified silence passes for an apology."

"Johnny Lawrence drew a di-"

"Say 'dick on my face' again, babe, really, please say it again. I miss you saying it, it's been like a half hour."

"Honey, please, let me in."

"Maybe I should. The way you've been acting over this Cobra Kai shit lately, you'll probably try to kick down the door. You think you could?"

"I don't know. I've never been attacked by a door."

Ah, she knows what I did there. I can hear this woman's jaw crack when she even slightly smiles. "When I said I wanted the old you back, I didn't mean a Miyagi's greatest hits drinking game, Daniel."

I could kill someone in an hour from alcohol poisoning with that. "…look, I'm sorry. I'll be in bed, readin' some self-help books. Listenin' to our song."

"Nice try. This isn't something you can fix with Boston."

"Oh, everything can be fixed with Boston, but nah, nah, not that. I meant our other song? Alexa, play 'Kryptonite?'" Three Doors Down starts jammin' out of the sound system in the ceiling. That gets her out of the bathroom, in her robe and towel-turban. "Remember?" I grin. "Huh?"

"This is one of our songs?"

"What. The men's room at The Smashed Grape? I thought women remembered that sort of detailed stuff."

"You…remember the song that was playing when we had drunk sex in a bathroom stall, but you can't retain the words 'clean the pool house' when I've said them four-hundred times?"

"Y'know what, you're right, I'm done diggin' here. I give up."

"Mm-hm. Whatever. Go wax off to Kryptonite, babe." She goes back in the en suite and shuts the door.

"I have. Lovingly. Many times! Alexa, stop," I grumble, and head for the pool house. You want the Daniel you married, I'll give ya' the Daniel you married. At least he had his dignity!

August 15, 2000

Cousin Louie was getting hitched, at least for the moment. It didn't end up working out, 'cause she really had his balls to the grinder. I mean, this was his bachelor party, the Italian Stallion's bachelor party…and we were on a little shuttle bus takin' us to different wineries in Napa. That was all Gretchen allowed. I mean, her name pretty much tells you everything you need to know. There's a reason nobody writes songs for Gretchens.

It was Lou, me, Hanoush, Freddie Fernandez, a bunch of guys. And Mr. Miyagi, of course. Louie made sure of it. "You bring the O.G. or else. I'll be needin' some of that Hmong wisdom before the biggest mistake of my life."

"Japanesse, idiot," I sighed.

"Eh, same difference."

So, I was like thirty-three and never did make it to college. I was workin' my way up a dealership on the Miracle Mile. Still single as hell, but not for lack of trying. I dunno if it was the fact that I talked way too much, that I hustled PT Cruisers, or that I lived with an old guy in a room with tissue paper for walls.

"How many stops is this shitshow gonna make before we're even a little buzzed?" Louie groaned from our seats at the back of the bus. "I need some goggles. Who let the dogs out over here? Hel-lo!"

Hanoush goes, "I think you're missing the fact that Gretchen is trying to get you to be more cultured?"

"Hey, I'm cultured. I grate my own pecorino from the block, for Christ's sake. Almost cut my goddamn finger off one time."

"Yeah, you'll be grating your own block, alright," Freddie chimed in with a jerk-off hand motion. "Welcome to the marriage club."

"Oh, Gahd, look at this bus, it's full of old farts! No offense, Mista M."

Mr. Miyagi's beard was whiter then, his hair thinner, his face half hidden behind the map of Napa Valley. "Miyagi start gray at twenty five. Offend self."

"So, look who's suddenly interested in the wine tour, huh?" I chuckled at Mr. Miyagi. "I thought you hated 'grape jelly water,' as you put it."

"Prefer rice wine, not ferment so sweet, hai. But, no. Planning ahead bathroom breaks. Very important, Daniel-san."

"Eh, Mista M, why don't I get a -san after my name?" Louie asked.

"Signify respect," he sighed.

"Eh-heh, real funny. I wish I had some for myself right now, even."

"The hell is that, ending a sentence with 'even?' Who are you, Snagglepuss?" I laughed.

"Yea, I'd like to snag some puss. I'm still hopin' the bus driver takes her clothes off and this wine tour is all a freakin' joke," Louie said.

"Nope, it's not, my friend. Cold hard reality," Hanoush said."With an earthy undertone."

"Look at my cousin, man," Louie said. "Look at that shit-eatin' grin. He's gonna meet a girl on this trip, just you wait. He always does."

"And of course, their brief romance will be a valuable life lesson," Hanoush snorted. "A very special episode of 90210."

"Hey, 90210 just ended a solid, ten year run with a bangin' series finale, I might add," I said.

"Aaand, that's why he's single," Freddie laughed.

"No wonder Candida split, huh? She came between 90210 Wednesdays for you and Mista Miyagi."

"Good American program," Mr. Miyagi said. "Teach many lesson."

"Wait, wait. We're stoppin'," Louie said. "We're pickin' up girls, real girls. The whole Mambo numba five lineup! The hottest one has a, a sash thingy that says 'bride!'"

"Oh, yeah, kinda like whats-her-face..." I said, snappin' my fingers. "Oh. Your fiancée?"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" he whispered. "Forget about it, they'll never sit over here, 'cause Danny had to wear a fuckin' Winger T-shirt under his button-down."

"I'm wearing it ironically, OK? How is nobody getting this?"

"Daniel-san. For once, no talk. Look."

I don't know how Mr. Miyagi knew. He said it without even looking up from the map. He hadn't even seen the ladies getting on the bus. Ah, who am I kidding? The guy was a sage. He just knew it was my moment.

She came up the steps first, and started down the aisle. In slo-mo, at least for me. H'oh my God. I heard the drum beats and those first guitar licks of that song "Smooth" in my head. Her hair had all these golden pieces then, and that bob cut everybody was wearing. She had on this silver dress on with a high neck, but short. She was like Miss New Millennium.

"If I'm dreaming, let me never awake," I found myself saying softly.

There were plenty of seats and she just happened to stop at the empty one next to mine. "Nice Winger shirt," she smiled. She sat next to me and folded her arms.

"Thankss," I sputtered. "...I-I'm wearing it ironically. I'm the cool guy with the not-cool shirt."

"Mhm. Keep telling yourself that. I bet you go on Napster and 'just download their hits,' too. Like you don't have the whole CD."

"Wow. You always this sassy?"

"Who under the age of eighty says 'sassy?'"

"An old-fashioned guy. I mean, not old, old, just- an old soul. In a, uh, delightful sorta way," Shut up, Daniel, shut up.

She held out her hand. "Amanda."

"Danie- Dan. Dan the Man LaRusso," I sputtered, probably givin' her a Chozen handshake with my nerves. "That's what they call me."

"Who? The kindergarten class you teach?"

"Nah," Louie piped in from across the aisle. "He's a car salesman, that's why every other word outta his mouth is a freakin' lie."

"Daniel-san perennial student," Mr. Miyagi offered while I shot Louie a look.

"Ookaay, guy from the Sopranos and Dalai Lama dude," Amanda said. "Is this your posse, Daniel the Maniel?"

"Yep. My cousin's bachelor party. Last gasp for your friend too, I take it?" I asked, gesturin' over them. "I can tell by the uh, shoulder glitter. The sparkles make your self-tanner look really natural, by the way."

"Ooh, you are a caution, Daniel. My grandma says that, you two would really hit it off. And believe me, this wasn't my idea of a party, but I'm not the maid of honor, so…"

"You like wine, at least?"

"It's alright. I'd prefer a dirty martini, ice, ice cold. Or a couple Kirin Ichibans. Or twelve."

Now imagine being me right then, feelin' this spunky chemistry with this cool girl with sparkly shoulders, who clearly can hang, and she says she likes JAPANESE beer. I couldn't contain myself. Can you imagine an "in" like that? The sheer freakin' joy on my face as my mouth opened, and in two breaths I told her everything there was to know about Okinawa and the bar where I broke six blocks of ice.

Yeah, she didn't believe it. I'm still not sure if she does. But she humored me, and by the end of the conversation, this peace washed over me that I'd never known before. Mr. Miyagi always said, "Good woman for a man's soul bring calm. No agitation. No sweat or heart beating like chicken look up at ax. Only calm."

Louie's voice somehow reached me in my paradise. "That's it. I can't take this no more. Guys, we're bustin' outta here!"

"This is a voluntary event, you know," Amanda said to Lou. "Not a paddy wagon."

"Not for him. His fiancée will kill him," I snickered.

"She never has to know. We'll bail in Oakville, there's gotta be a little dive bar somewhere, with beer and some fuckin' food so I won't be full of gas? Mista Miyagi can get up and do karaoke, it'll be hysterical!"

"Oh God, don't say karaoke," Amanda laughed. "I'm sure Okinawa Man here knows the whole history of it, and how it translates to-"

"Empty orchestra," we both said at once.

I swallowed hard as we looked at each other. "Amanda, I…I know we just met like twenty minutes ago, and I hate asking you to ditch the bride to have a few Kirin Ichibans with m-"

"Her wedding's a sham and I hate her," she said quickly.

"Miyagi like Amanda-san," my teacher said.

And the rest is history. Well, OK, that's how the story ends for our kids, but in that sweet corner of my head I remember the rest. That bar in Napa- The Smashed Grape.

Laughing with Amanda 'til I aggravated every old injury I'd ever had. Mr. Miyagi ignoring the words on the karaoke screen and just singing "dah-dee-dah-dah."

One too many Kirin Ichibans.

There was no sour, stale aftertaste when we kissed in the men's room stall. How did she end up there, you ask, well, she followed me in. I mean, I wasn't taking a shit or anything, I hadn't even unzipped. I didn't even have to go, I just needed a minute to process everything going on. To breathe. Well, so much for that. It was my mouth on Amanda's mouth, her tongue on my tongue, just this crazy makeout session from a dream.

"I don't know why, I just- I-can't let you out of my sight," she said. "Please don't go away. All the good ones go away."

"I know," I said, with no other explanation other than to hold on to her like a ledge, and kiss her and wrap those long legs around me 'til we almost fell in the toilet.

September 10, 2000

"You're engaged to a twenty-one year old child?" my mother started screechin' over the phone. "Oh, Madonne, no! Too young, Daniel! Does she even know who Carol Burnett is? I'll be dead by the time she wants kids."

"Ma-"

"Daniel, girls today would leave a car salesman the drop of a hat to get on the Reality TV and marry a millionaire."

"Oh, gimme a—I'm tellin' you, y-you'd better not scare this one away like you did Candida."

"Ucch, Candida. That isn't a name, it's a fungus! But the shoe definitely fit that little-"

"You know what, I'm just gonna let you keep goin', Ma, 'cause I know I'm not gonna get a word in edgewise when you're on your soapbox!"

"I stopped you from puttin' your bike in the trash, honey, of course I'm gonna stop you from puttin' your life in there."

"You don't understand, I've never been so attracted to anyone in all my life. On every level. Can ya' like, try to think back to when you knew Dad was the one or something, please?"

"Antonio's been dead for twenty-five years. Do you think I remember that? I can't remember to sign a check. Attraction is all fine and dandy, but I seriously doubt that a twenty-one year old girl will be able to accept that Mr. Miyagi comes first for you."

"Wha- you puttin' words in my mouth, now? When have I ever said that?"

"Well, call it the unspoken truth, then. And your girlfriends never get it. Someone who wasn't there from the beginning with Mr. Miyagi, and the Cobra Kings, and the whole ordeal is not gonna get it. That's why it's too bad that Koo-MEEKO-" she started, stressin' the end of the name like she always did.

"That was fifteen freakin' years ago, for the love of God!"

"Exactly my point. Could little Mandy even tie her shoes when you wanted to marry to that sweet Oriental peach?"

"Ma, what did we say about 'Oriental?' Huh? Rugs and food, not people?"

"What, I said peach!" she sighed.

"Look, just forget it, OK? I know Amanda will get my relationship with Mr. Miyagi, cause she gets me."

"Alright," she said after a beat. "You want my blessing, fine. I'll make my manicotti and she'd better eat it. Friday night dinner. And please don't wear that weird red smoking jacket with the bonsais. Save that for the wedding night, when it's too late for her."

Update next Thursday! Thanks for reading.