Cobra Kai: New life

Robby's POV

The metal doors slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing in my ears like the final blow in a fight. This wasn't like anything I'd ever experienced before. There were no mats on the floor to soften the impact, no sensei to guide me back onto the right path. This was raw, cold, and unforgiving.

As the guards escorted me through the narrow hallways of the juvenile detention center, I kept my head down. The place reeked of sweat, fear, and despair. I could feel the stares of the other inmates drilling into me as I passed, sizing me up, testing my worth with every step.

"Fresh meat," someone muttered as I walked by.

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms. Not here. Not now. I couldn't afford to lose control again.

When we reached the cell block, the guard unlocked a door and shoved me inside. "Welcome to your new home," he said with a mocking grin before locking the door behind me.

I glanced around the small room. A bunk bed, a metal toilet in the corner, and a tiny window that let in just enough light to remind you how trapped you were.

Sitting on the bottom bunk was a guy who looked like he'd stepped off the cover of some underground MMA magazine. He was tall, about six feet tall, with a muscular build that seemed too big for the cramped cell. His skin was warm-toned, and his dark eyes were sharp and calculating. But the thing that stood out most was the scar running across his face, jagged and brutal, stretching from his left eye down to the corner of his lip.

He glanced at me indifferently before returning to whatever he was writing in a notebook.

"Name's David," he said finally, not bothering to look up again.

"Robby," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

David finally raised his head, studying me for a moment. "You're the new guy, huh? Guess we're stuck together for a while."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. There was something about his calm demeanor that made me uneasy. He wasn't like the other guys here—loud, desperate to prove themselves. David didn't need to prove anything.

As the hours passed, I realized I wasn't just fighting my own demons. Everyone else in this place had their eyes on me. During lunch, someone bumped into me on purpose, sending my tray crashing to the floor. In the yard, another guy laughed as he shoved me against the fence. I could feel the tension building, my fists itching to strike, but each time, I held back.

I wasn't going to let them turn me into that person again.

David watched it all silently. It wasn't until lights-out that he finally spoke.

"If you keep letting them do that, they're gonna eat you alive," he said from the bottom bunk, his voice low and firm.

I turned over on the top bunk, staring at the wall. "I don't need advice from you."

"Sure doesn't look like it," he shot back.

I sighed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. "What do you even know about this, anyway?"

David was quiet for a moment, and I thought maybe he'd let it go. But then he spoke again, his tone sharper this time.

"I know that if you don't stand up for yourself, you're gonna spend every day here looking over your shoulder. And I know that whatever it is you're afraid of, it's not worse than letting these guys think you're weak."

I turned to look at him, feeling the anger bubbling up inside me. "You don't know anything about me! You don't know why I'm here or what I've done. So don't act like you're some kind of expert."

David stood up, his figure seeming even larger in the dim light. "You're right. I don't know you. But I do know this place. And I know that if you don't figure out who you are fast, someone else will decide for you."

I didn't have a response for that. Instead, I clenched my jaw and stared at him, forcing myself not to let the tears threatening to spill betray me.

After a long silence, I finally murmured, "I'm here because I hurt someone. Badly."

David raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

I took a deep breath, the words heavy in my throat. "I got into a fight. I pushed someone too far, and now he might never walk again."

David didn't look surprised or even judgmental. He just nodded slowly. "Well," he said, "looks like you've got a lot to figure out. But hiding isn't the answer."

His response left me feeling exposed, like I'd opened a door I couldn't close. But before I could say anything else, David sat back down on the bunk, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm here because of a fight, too," he began, his tone softer this time. "But it wasn't in a school or with rules. It was on the street, at night. A guy tried to rob me… or worse, my mom."

He paused, his dark eyes gleaming with something that looked like controlled rage.

"What I did…" he continued, "was pure instinct. I was trained to defend myself, to protect. But when I saw my mom in danger, I didn't think. I just… acted."

"What happened?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

David leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I knocked him out. I didn't know how bad it was until the cops showed up. They said he barely survived. And even though it was self-defense, they said I used excessive force."

Silence filled the cell again. This time, it was David who broke it.

"We both have to carry what we did, Robby. But that doesn't mean we have to let it define us. What matters is what we do next."

His words left me thinking, the weight of my guilt feeling a little lighter. Maybe, just maybe, this place wouldn't just be a punishment but a chance to figure out who I really wanted to be.