𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑，𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑖

ten | tell me something

"Whoa..." Robby says, staring at the object we uncover. "Mr. Miyagi gave you this?" He asks, turning to Daniel LaRusso who is pulling the tarp off the next car over. He looks around, smiling fondly at the faded yellow '47 Ford Convertible.

"It was only the best birthday present ever." He tells us, coming over to wipe a bit of dust off a headlight. "I wish I had more time to come down here and take care of her."

Robby laughs. He's been doing better since the tournament a few weeks ago. His arm is now in a sling and from what he's told me, he's been icing it periodically.

With his free hand, he playfully punches my arm. "Something tells me there's a can of wax in our future."

"Huh?" I look up at him.

"Don't worry." Mr. LaRusso chuckles before I can get an answer out of the boy. "We have plenty to do before that."

The three of us work the entire day, repainting the Miyagi-Do dojo in its light blue-green color and fixing the rickety fence. The boys replace the dusty punching bag in the yard, while I sand the wooden bridges that lead to various places in the outside dojo.

Everything Mr. LaRusso has Robby and I either paint or scrub or sand or polish, he has us do with strategic movements. Or well, at least me.

Robby teases me the whole time because he's already been through something similar to this at the dealership when he first began training. Now, it seems I'm the one who needs the lessons.

Although it all feels like child labor, I understand the point LaRusso's trying to make as he corrects my way of painting walls and sanding the deck. Every motion represents a certain kind of block in Miyagi-Do.

Once the sun begins setting at the end of the day, the three of us stand on the deck off the back of the main hut. Already the place looks better than it did when Mr. LaRusso brought us here after the tournament.

Mr. LaRusso pats our shoulders, "We did great work today guys. See you two again tomorrow?"

Robby shakes his head, laughing as he does. "Sure, Sensei." He smiles, returning the man's pat on the shoulder.

Mr. LaRusso walks up to the gate where his car is and gives us a final look. "Either of you need a ride home."

"I'll walk," I tell him, hands in my pockets. "I like to walk."

He looks to Robby, who shakes his head. "Nah, I'm gonna make sure Rhys gets home."

Mr. LaRusso gives him a knowing look before sending us on our way. We walk in silence for a while, neither of us speaking. The setting sun paints the world golden and the humidity makes my skin feel sticky.

It's nice, all admit, but not something I would normally cling onto like I do now. I've noticed that change more recently. Holding onto things I normally don't.

But maybe I like it like that. Truthfully, I don't know. Keeping things put away has always been what I'm good at. Bury it deep, one foot in front of the other, keep going. But what if I want to remember...

"So does this mean you're sticking around then?"

"Huh?" I turn my head to look at Robby, glaring through the sunshine.

He chuckles. "Nothing... It's just, well, you told me at Mr. LaRusso's that you never settled down long enough to find a good dojo. And now, well..." He trails. "Now you're kinda with Miyagi-Do."

"Is that what you think?" The sharpness in my tone makes his features twist.

"Y- yes?" He asks, chuckling.

My own laugh reassures him to chuckle more. I shake my head. "I don't know..." I say honestly. "I wasn't kicked out of school, so... I guess you're stuck with me all summer."

Robby smiles. That same kind of smile one does when one likes the idea of something. It makes me uneasy.

"Well, then, it's gonna be a long summer." He tells me, grinning as he kicks a rock down the street.

"With your bullshit? Definitely."

We laugh together, the sound of it eventually dying in the air.

He sighs suddenly. "So Miyagi-Do. Are you staying?"

I look up at the sky, deciding on an answer. "Do you know what my favorite thing is, Robby Keene?" I ask, looking at him. He shakes his head and I smile. "The unknown."

My pace quickens and I get ahead of him a few feet. I can practically see his grown confusion even when he stops in his tracks to process the answer.

I laugh. "Come on, Keene," I say, turning to walk backward, "you're making sure I get home, right?"

Robby shakes his head, chuckling as he jogs back to my side.

The rest of the time is spent in silence. I hate to admit it, but I enjoy Robby Keene's presence. Is that weird? For me; yes.

It's nice not having to walk alone for once. To have someone by my side again reminds me of the old days.

I can still hear his laughter in the air. The time we spent on the mat together. Just two kids. Two young children having fun. High kicks and acrobatic spins. Ice cream melting onto our fingers, frizzled hair, and sidewalk chalk drawings.

I remember their laughter. Her smile. My mother's fingers running through my hair and the faint stench of sour liquor that accompanied her gentle smile.

Then it was sirens, metallic blood, and screams. Horrible screams.

No more ice cream drips or late summer nights with living room blanket forts. No more Finch. No more Mom. No more sweet older brother. No more dad who looked relaxed all the time.

Gone. Gone in one crash, one day. One moment fine, the next a memory buried deep...

My eyes snap open when I realize we've come to a stop. I look up, making eye contact with Robby who must have been staring at me for a while with his pale green gaze.

"You okay?" His voice is soft.

"Yeah." I swallow once I identify the shakiness in my tone. "I'm fine. Just thinking of something."

Robby's eyes narrow, obviously not convinced, but I'm thankful he doesn't push it.

A beat passes.

"Tell me something, Rhys." Robby suddenly says, his tone laced with mystery.

I blink. "What do you mean?"

"Like... tell me something about yourself. Anything."

I laugh. "Why?"

"Call it a game." He shrugs. "I feel like you've figured me out pretty well, but I can't figure you out to save my life. So, every day, you tell me something about yourself."

I roll my eyes. "That's stupid. I'm supposed to be a mystery."

"I hate mysteries."

I smile, shaking my head. "Thanks for walking me home, white boy. You better go before my brother spots you."

Robby gives me a tight smile, remaining on the sidewalk as I walk up the lawn to my front door. Before I can reach the porch, however, I stop, looking back over my shoulder.

"Monarchs," I call, gaining his attention. "I like butterflies."

Robby smiles, seemingly satisfied with the small victory.