stuff. and things

@ckhalloween22

Cutting it very close to the end of Halloween - a sort of sequel to my Ghost prompt from last year, for this year's "this place is haunted" prompt.

Prompt: Wishful thinking

"Careful, LaRusso. Your mommy isn’t here to pay peacemaker." She sneers and feels a spark of triumph at the anger she provokes in the other girl's eyes.

But the truth is, if her mom was well, she'd protect Tory like Sam LaRusso’s mom is trying to. Stand between her and the sleazy landlord. Take the weight off Tory's shoulders, so she didn't feel so helpless and scared and angry all the time.

But that's wishful thinking. And everyone needs an outlet, don't they?

PROMPT: Wishful Thinking

They go to a bar, because if he's going to tell the story, he'd like a drink to get through it. It takes a lot of psyching up - he's never told anyone the whole story before - but he does it.

“ - The year after our title fight, they put you straight through to the finals? That's bullshit!"

Oh. He wasn’t listening. At all. Wow. He doesn't know what he expected - now he feels real stupid. He'd thought maybe he'd found in Johnny someone...who could understand? Who might...care? Like they were friends? Wishful thinking.

Prompt: Dancing

When his dad was alive, there was always dancing. He remembers Mom and Dad dancing in the kitchen to the radio, and dancing on his father’s feet. After he died, there was no dancing for a long time. Mom was sad and tired and overworked and Daniel tried to help, but he was too young to do much - he wondered if she’d ever be happy enough to dance again. Then one day he found his mom twirling in the kitchen - she swept his hands into his and twirled him too.

@ckhalloween

The church is an old stone structure at the heart of the little walled village - probably as old as Suvereto itself, the locals say. The old priest watches as they bring in the wounded, and soldiers and villagers alike set about setting up a makeshift field hospital. It’s the first battle Miyagi has seen and he has never imagined anything like it. The way a human body can be injured, torn asunder and killed. An older soldier sits him to the side, out of the way with a hot cup of something warming in his trembling hands, and Miyagi watches too, with a curiously empty mind, willing his body to stop shaking.

PROMPT: Empathy

Daniel's quiet, a pensive look on his face Johnny knows means trouble for him.

"Have you been telling everyone I ruined your life?"

Aaaand there it is. Johnny shrugs. It's no secret his life’s been a downward spiral since they’d met. But that was before - he can't kid himself into pretending he believes that now, as anything other than a joke.

"What are you pissed about, LaRusso - your life clearly came up roses."

PROMPT: Empathy

Daniel's been quiet, a pensive look on his face that Johnny can't help but think means trouble for him when when he opens his mouth.

"Have you been telling everyone I ruined your life?"

Aaaand there it is. Johnny shrugs. It's no secret his life had kind of been a downward spiral since he'd crossed paths with LaRusso. But that was a before thing - he can't kid himself into pretending he believes that now, as anything other than a joke. One he doesn't really want to feel defensive over or apologise for.

"Well yeah. What are you pissed about, LaRusso - your life clearly came up roses. Take a joke, man."

But Daniel’s lips are doing that pursed, downward tilt and his eyes have that look that say he's actually quite upset, because Johnny's struck a nerve he didn't know about and didn't mean to. And it's making him feel guilty and even more defensive.

on AO3 

-

“Mr Miyagi, you’re moving in with us. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Mr Miyagi carried on puttering around the kitchen, much slower than he used to before, leaving Daniel to talk to his back. Maybe he’d worded that too strongly - the older man might take it as a challenge to out-stubborn him to prove that Daniel might have to take no for an answer.

His sensei’s hands weren’t so steady as he brought a cup down from the cupboard and it rattled a little as he placed it down on the countertop, so Daniel sidled in to take over the job of filling the kettle and making the tea before he could discover how much more unsteady the weight of it would make Mr Miyagi’s hands. He got a frown and a grumbling huff in return, as Mr Miyagi turned toward the table, the newly acquired walking stick in his hand - he didn’t want to use it, didn’t think he needed it. Well, Daniel and the Occupational Therapist at the hospital both disagreed with that.

Not for the first time since The Fall and Mr Miyagi’s subsequent hospital visit (and more so in the car on their way back from the hospital) did he wonder if he could just cart him home and make him stay there. He knew where the suitcases were and everything - he bet he could do a pretty good job of packing for him too.

He changed tack: less demanding, more persuasive.

“Come on, it’ll be like old times. Remember when you built the guest house for me, so I wouldn’t have to move to Fresno? We had a great time, remember? And the new house has plenty of space - we got that room on the first floor, no stairs in the way, I already put a bed in it. And if you want peace and quiet, you won’t even know we’re there, I promise.”

The problem of the table presented itself as soon as he reached it. Bending down to kneel on the zabuton wouldn’t be an easy feat, without even taking into account getting back up again. Mr Miyagi stopped beside it, clearly considering the fact - and Daniel watched the stooped line of his back that marked his age and the line of his shoulders that wasn’t quite so sturdy as before - and then moved to seat himself on the bed instead. It was higher, he wouldn’t have to bend too much to sit. A backhanded victory to his point. Daniel bit his lip and pressed his advantage.

“The kids are gonna love it - you know how they love being with you. Sam’s so excited, she’s already making you art for you to hang up in your room.” The flat stare levelled at him meant he was on the right track - sensing the opening, he struck. “You’d never break her heart, would you, Mr Miyagi?”

A hand came up to cut him off. But that was fine. He’d won. He grinned in the face of the narrow-eyed glare directed at him, and placed the cup of tea within easy reach on the bedside table.

“Hai, hai. Miyagi come. You…you fight dirty.”