The Sunday morning sun filtered through the dusty windows of the Cobra Kai dojo, casting golden beams across the wooden floor where Robby Keene had woken up. He'd slept there, in a makeshift corner with a sleeping bag that Kreese had left behind, the silence of the empty space broken only by the distant chirping of birds outside. When he opened his eyes, he felt something different—a lighter weight in his chest, as if the anger that had consumed him for days had lifted a little, giving way to an unexpected calm. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with his hands, his green eyes still sleepy as the memory of Saturday's training with Tory came flooding back.
He could hear the echo of her punches on the bag, her dry laugh as she teased him—"Let's see if you're any good or if you just know how to push people around"—and the way she adjusted her posture with a gentle shove on his shoulder, laughing as he rolled his eyes. That training session had been a breather, transforming his anger into something useful, something he could control. He remembered the smile that had escaped him, small but genuine, and the feeling that with Tory there, the dojo wasn't just a place to blow up—it was a space where he could be himself, unburdened by the past. He felt a subtle relief at the thought of her, a quiet gratitude that she had been a steadying point when everything seemed to be falling apart.
Robby stood, his muscles stiff from sleep on the hard floor, and looked around the empty dojo. It was Sunday, and tomorrow would be Monday—the day he would go back to school, a step he had decided to take to get his life back on track. After dropping out, Sam's betrayal, reform school, and the confrontation with Jack, he felt like he needed something new, something of his own. His training with Tory the night before had shown him that the dojo could be a start, but he wanted more than punches; he wanted a path, even if he didn't know what it was yet. He grabbed his training gloves from the corner, pulled them on slowly, and walked over to the bag, beginning to punch with a steady rhythm, the sound echoing in the silence as sweat dripped onto the wood.
Meanwhile, at the LaRusso house, Saturday had ended differently than Daniel and Amanda had planned. Jack and Sam had returned from the beach late in the afternoon, the Impala parked in the driveway with sand stuck to its tires, their laughter filling the house as they walked inside in their damp clothes. The original plan had been for Jack to leave after a quick snack, but night had come quickly, and at Sam's insistence—"He can stay, Dad, we're exhausted from the beach"—Jack had ended up sleeping in the guest room. Daniel, hearing this, had grown apprehensive, his face furrowed as he glanced at Amanda in the kitchen, the door ajar, letting the sound of Sam and Jack's laughter leak out into the living room.
"Are you comfortable with this?" Daniel asked, his voice low but tense as he stirred his coffee in his mug, his brown eyes fixed on his wife. "Sam with this boy… sleeping here? She's becoming a woman, I know, but has she…" He trailed off, his thoughts cut short by his own reluctance to say it out loud, but his face betrayed the concern—had Sam slept with Jack yet? And what was he going to do about it?
Amanda turned from the stove, where she was heating up something for dinner, a slight smile on her lips as she shook her head. "Daniel, relax. It's Jack. He's a good boy, you know him. They spent the day at the beach, they're tired, and the guest room is on the other side of the house. There's nothing going on that you need to lose sleep over." She could feel his tension, but her tone was calm, trying to ease her husband's mind, even though she had her own silent questions.
Daniel took a sip of his coffee, his brow still furrowed. "I know she's growing up, Amanda. But this… is weird to me. What do I do if…?" He trailed off, his hand tightening around the mug as he stared at the door, hearing the muffled sound of Sam laughing at something Jack was saying. He felt a mix of protectiveness and helplessness, the daughter he still thought of as his little one now bringing a boy home, and the weight of that change made him uneasy.
"You trust her," Amanda said, placing her hand on his shoulder with a soft smile. "And tomorrow is Sunday, they won't be doing anything crazy with school on Monday. Let them have some fun." She felt the same protective instinct, but she saw Sam's joy and knew that Jack, despite everything, was someone who respected boundaries.
Sunday arrived quietly, and the afternoon sun was already sinking in the sky as Jack and Sam stood in the LaRusso kitchen, the smell of home-cooked food filling the air. Amanda finished preparing lunch, a bowl of salad in her hands, while Jack, sitting at the table with his messy hair falling over his green eyes, laughed at something Sam said. They had spent the night in the house—Jack in the guest room—and now, in dry clothes, they enjoyed the day together.
Amanda turned from the counter and gave Jack an amused look as she set the food down on the table. She knew him from previous visits, but there was a motherly curiosity in the way she regarded him. "So, Jack," she said, her tone light but interested as she sat down across from him, "you and Sam at the beach yesterday, huh? How was that? Didn't come back with sand all over you, I hope." She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling with humor as she passed the bread to Sam.
Jack chuckled, taking a piece of bread as he exchanged a glance with Sam, who was already chuckling beside him. "It was great, Mrs. LaRusso," he said, his tone light as he took a bite. "But yeah, I think I left half the beach in the Impala. Sam swam better than me, even with that bad shoulder of hers." He pointed to her right shoulder with the bread, his crooked smile appearing as Sam rolled her eyes.
"He fell in the water trying to get me," Sam said, laughing as she nudged Jack with her elbow, her blue eyes shining. "You can't trust a sensei who can't swim!" She took a spoonful of salad, the mood at the table as light as yesterday's beach breeze.
Amanda raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly as she looked between the two of them. "Sensei, huh? Are you teaching my daughter how to fight now, Jack?" She tilted her head, her tone playful with a hint of curiosity. "Are you any good at it, or are you just pretending to know what you're doing? Because I've seen Daniel try to teach, and he's not exactly a model of patience."
Jack laughed, rubbing his bandaged arm with a smile. "I try, Mrs. LaRusso. But Sam's a tough student—she knocked me over with a rubber ball yesterday, so I guess she's learning faster than I am." He winked at Sam, who laughed out loud, nearly dropping his water bottle as Amanda shook her head, laughing along with them.
"Good to know she's in good hands," Amanda said, her smile softening as she served them both more salad. "And tomorrow is school, right? Are you guys going to survive Monday after a weekend like that?" She felt a sense of lightness at seeing Sam so comfortable with Jack, the boy she already knew bringing a sparkle to her daughter's eyes.
"We'll try," Sam said, laughing as she looked at Jack, her brown hair falling over her face. "But I think Jack needs more training before he teaches me anything at school." She felt a calm energy, lunch with Jack and Amanda keeping the weekend's mood light.
After lunch, with their dishes in the sink, Jack and Sam walked out into the backyard, the afternoon sun bathing the grass in warm hues. Jack stopped in the middle, turning to her with a smile. "Let's do some real training now, Sam. Show me your punch—not too hard because of your shoulder, but I want to see your style." He adjusted his bandaged arm, the playful tone returning as he flexed his good hand.
Sam raised her hands in a fighting stance, her right shoulder a little stiff, but her blue eyes filled with determination as she threw a punch in the air, the movement quick but a little clumsy. "Okay, sensei Jack, how'd it go?" she asked, laughing as she swung her fists like a playful boxer, her brown hair bouncing with the movement.
Jack laughed loudly, the sound filling the yard as he approached, carefully adjusting her arms. "Not bad, but you're throwing the wrong shoulder," he said, his tone playful and a touch serious as he positioned her elbows. "Look, like this." He punched the air lightly with his good hand, the motion fluid, and turned to her with a smile. "Now you. And no laughing, huh? I'm trying to be a serious teacher here!"
Sam tried again, the punch landing harder this time, and she took a step back, laughing as she pointed at him. "Seriously? You? You're more like a clown than a sensei!" She darted to the side, picking up a rubber ball from the grass and throwing it at him, the object bouncing off his chest as Jack faked a dramatic groan, falling to the grass as if he'd been struck by a deadly blow.
"You killed me, Sam!" he yelled, rolling in the grass as he laughed, his hands on his chest like an over-the-top actor. Sam fell beside him, laughing until he was out of breath, the two of them lying on the grass looking up at the blue sky, the afternoon sun warming their skin as the cool breeze blew between them. "Okay, practice canceled," Jack said, still laughing as he turned his head to her. "You're too dangerous with that ball."
"You're the one who's a terrible student," Sam retorted, a smile shining in her blue eyes as she leaned on her elbows, her hair falling over her face. "But I liked it. We'll practice more tomorrow even with school—maybe you'll learn not to fall." She felt infinitely lighter, Saturday at the beach and Sunday with Jack and Amanda erasing any trace of drama, as if the world were theirs for one more day.
Some time later, at the Cobra Kai dojo, the sun was higher, the gray sky opening up into patches of blue. Tory walked in, followed by Kyler, Hawk, and a few other Cobra Kai members, their backpacks on their backs as if they had planned an extra workout on Sunday. They stopped when they saw Robby there, the bag swinging with each precise punch he made, his posture firm and his green eyes focused, but now with a calm they hadn't had before.
Tory crossed her arms, a crooked smile appearing as she glared at him. "Look, Keene," she said, her voice teasing but light. "You're turning into a dojo rat, huh? Did you really sleep here?" She stepped forward, her eyes shining with curiosity as she watched his pace, her tied-up hair bouncing as she tilted her head.
Robby paused, taking a deep breath as he turned to her, a small smile curving his lips. "Maybe," he said, his voice husky but tinged with amusement as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his glove. "Better than wandering around." He felt a lightness at the sight of her, as if her presence confirmed the relief he'd felt upon waking—Tory was an unexpected anchor, someone who understood him without words.
Kyler chuckled, tossing his backpack to the ground as he approached. "The guy's training alone on a Sunday? He trying to become the next Sullivan or what?" His tone was mocking, but there was a subtle respect there, his narrowed eyes assessing Robby curiously.
Hawk let go of his swinging mohawk as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Leave him alone, Kyler. At least Keene doesn't run away like some of the others." He gave a crooked smile, looking at Robby with a slight nod, as if acknowledging something in his effort. "You're here, man. That's more than some have done."
Robby threw a final punch to the balls, the impact echoing as he turned to the group, his green eyes meeting theirs. He could feel the old anger still there, but now mixed with something new—an acceptance he hadn't expected. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm but without the edge it had before. "I'm tired of running. I want to show that I'm worth something." There was a subtle warmth in his voice, as if the words were a promise to himself, and their presence there made him believe that maybe he could keep it.
Tory laughed, stepping forward to grab another pair of gloves and tossing them to Kyler, who caught them with a grunt. "Then prove it, Keene," she said, the mischievous smile returning as she pointed to the bag. "Let's train you properly. If you can last a round with me without going down, I'll buy you a soda this time." There was a lightness to her teasing him, as if training with Robby was more than just a routine—it was a chance to see something grow, something she recognized in him.
Kyler pulled on his gloves, chuckling as he approached. "Okay, but if I take you down, you clean the dojo for a week, newbie," he said, his tone teasing, but with a nod that said he was in.
Hawk stepped forward, grabbing a pair of gloves for himself as he looked at Robby. "Let's see what you've got, Keene. Everything you've been through… use it. Show you're not just another quitter." He felt a surge of respect, seeing Robby standing there, standing strong, after all.
Robby smiled, his first full smile in days, as he adjusted his gloves and got into position, his green eyes shining with a determination he hadn't known he still had. It was a deep relief to hear that—the Cobra Kai guys seeing him, giving him a chance after everything he'd been through: the abandonment, Sam's betrayal, reform school, the fight with Jack. It was like, for the first time, he could be more than just the lost boy, and with Tory, Kyler, and Hawk there, the dojo felt like a place where he could start over.