The little things that Mister LaRusso does--they worry Robby. For selfish reasons, about where his mind might be going, where his actions will lead him to. He's already been thrown off-guard once, but that doesn't mean this discussion won't go the path that all his fears have imagined. And really, Robby's imagined this going...nowhere. Acceptance, and Robby moving on from his feelings.

They've always had to go that way, because even when he kidded himself, kept them around, Robby knew they wouldn't be reciprocated. It was just nice, in some masochistic way, to divulge in them. To pretend.

But as Mister LaRusso speaks, the confusion stays--Robby listens, but he doesn't understand. Kids your age don't get crushes on people my age.

Robby's sure that's wrong. Not that he went out of his way to learn, and he can't remember many experiences of with other kids and the teachers at school or anything (jokes, maybe, and there was the one younger teacher all the boys like in music class), he knows that can't be true. That maybe, it doesn't go anywhere beyond a silly little crush, but--it's not unheard of. Can't be.

It's something else.

Because Robby watches Mister LaRusso, the way he can't keep his gaze, the way he speaks, and it feels like a very different conversation. Something's shifted, and this isn't about him, it's not a warning: it's a mistake that's already occurred. And now, he's the one who can't imagine what's being placed on the table. What's being defined rather clearly, and yet Robby can't see it for what it is, his imagination won't work.

It doesn't want to work.

And so he has to ask, slow as he is to do it, "...Did something happen to someone?"

His voice is soft, his eyes are on Mister LaRusso.

What he really asks is: ...Did something happen to you?