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THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL HAD PASSED IN A BLUR, and the evening sun now dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the dojang as the six chosen fighters prepared for their final practice before the upcoming tournament. The air was thick with tension and anticipation, each of them hyper-aware of the stakes ahead.

Kim Da-eun observed silently from the corner, alongside Sensei Kreese, their sharp gazes flitting between the pairs. Tory Nichols was sparring with Yoon Do-jin, Park Sun-woo with Lee Byung-san, and of course, the two captains: Kwon Jae-sung with y/n l/n.

The girl let out an exasperated groan as she dodged Kwon's attempted roundhouse kick instead of blocking it. "I swear, you're worse at this than Yoon is at karaoke night."

Kwon paused mid-step, dropping his stance as a grin broke out across his face. "Yoon sings like someone's strangling a cat. What's your excuse for blocking like you're asleep?"

"Excuse me?" y/n shot back, catching her breath as she adjusted her guard. Her forehead glistened with sweat, and her y/h/t hair clung stubbornly to her neck. "You've got, like, negative chemistry, Kwon. You might as well be sparring with a wall!"

"Better than sparring with you!" he retorted, a playful edge to his voice. "At least a wall doesn't complain every five seconds."

Their banter caught the attention of Yoon, who was now dodging a particularly aggressive jab from Tory. "Can you two not?" he called out. "Some of us are actually trying to focus."

"Focus on not getting your face smashed, maybe," Kwon shot back, earning a laugh from Tory. She smirked at Yoon before landing a swift kick that knocked him back a step.

Y/n sighed dramatically, watching Yoon block Tory's calculated attacks with ease. The two moved in perfect sync, fluid as a stream, their chemistry practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. "Look at them," y/n muttered, jabbing her thumb toward the duo. "We're stuck flailing around like headless chickens, and they're doing some Olympic synchronized sparring routine."

Kwon, rolled his shoulders, the muscle in his jaw visibly tensing. "Maybe if you blocked properly instead of dodging, we wouldn't look like clowns," he snapped, his tone clipped.

Y/n just rolled her eyes, resuming her stance. She locked eyes with Kwon, her lips twitching with an unspoken challenge. "Alright, big shot. Show me what you've got."

Kwon didn't hesitate. He lunged forward with a quick jab, which she barely managed to deflect. Her arms burned with the effort, but she pushed through, countering with a sharp hook aimed at his side. He blocked it effortlessly, his forearm colliding with hers in a satisfying crack.

"Not bad," he admitted, his voice low enough that only she could hear. There was something almost teasing in his tone, a quiet acknowledgment of her skill.

"Not bad yourself," she replied, her voice equally soft but laced with sarcasm. "For someone who fights like a toddler on steroids."

Kwon grinned. "A toddler who's about to kick your ass... again."

He shifted his weight, spinning into a side kick that came dangerously close to her shoulder. y/n ducked just in time, her breath hitching as she retaliated with a sweeping kick of her own. He jumped back, his reflexes lightning-fast, and they both paused for a moment, circling each other.

The world around them faded into the background. For a moment, it was just them—trading punches, blocking each other's moves with precision and growing frustration. Kwon's hits were powerful but predictable, and y/n's strategy of dodging and countering kept him on his toes.

Kwon threw a light jab toward y/n, which she easily deflected, her forearm meeting his in a sharp, clean block. "So," he said, sliding back into his stance, "was Chemistry as much of a trainwreck for you as it was for me?"

Y/n scoffed at that. "Oh, it was awful. I swear, my brain shut down halfway through the class. And don't even get me started on the seat-switching drama."

Kwon feigned a wince as he launched a roundhouse kick, which y/n blocked for once. "Yeah... It was stupid. Now I'm stuck with a guy that smells like wet socks and chews gum like a cow."

The girl couldn't help but chuckle, punching his shoulder playfully which he didn't even bother blocking. "You've got to stop hesitating," he told her, getting back to the point after she narrowly dodged an attack. "Try that... paint fence block next time."

"Oh please, like that crap even works." she muttered, blocking his next hit with a little more force than necessary. "Maybe if you weren't so predictable, I would've considered resorting to a block."

"Predictable?!" Kwon feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest as if she'd mortally wounded him. "I'm like a goddamn ninja, l/n. And those blocks... they surprisingly work, believe it or not."

Y/n couldn't help but snort, skeptical as ever. 

Her muscles ached, but there was something exhilarating about the back-and-forth. Despite their constant bickering, there was an undeniable rhythm to their sparring, a push and pull that almost felt natural.

Almost.

"Alright, time out," she said, holding up her hands in surrender. Her chest heaved as she stepped back, wiping her face with the hem of her shirt. "I need water, or I'm gonna die."

"Die later, we have a tournament to win." Kwon replied, though he also dropped his stance, grabbing a water bottle from the side. He tossed it to her, and she caught it with one hand, muttering a quiet "thanks" before taking a long sip.

As she lowered the bottle, Kwon leaned casually against the wall, watching her with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, uh, speaking of dying... Things looked pretty tense earlier. Between you and um, Yoo-mi."

Y/n nearly choked on her water. She coughed, wiping her mouth before fixing him with an innocent expression. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he said, crossing his arms. His tone was light, but there was a hint of curiosity—maybe even concern—behind his words. "You looked like you were about to set the whole place on fire. Did she give you a hard time?"

Y/n shrugged, doing her best to conceal the smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, nothing I couldn't handle. Everything's fine."

"Certainly didn't look like it, but I won't pry." Kwon scoffed, but his eyes lingered on her, searching for something in her expression. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. "Don't let her get to you, alright?"

Y/n felt a pang of guilt at the sincerity in his voice, but she quickly buried it, flashing him a cheeky grin. "Who says she got to me? Maybe I got to her."

Kwon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "That I believe."

Their moment of levity was cut short as Kim's voice rang out across the room. "l/n, Kwon! Less talking, more sparring."

Y/n groaned, throwing Kwon a look of mock despair. "Back to kicking your ass again, I guess."

"Back to using 10% of my strength again to make you feel better about yourself." he muttered with a smirk as they returned to the mat. "Try to keep up, yeah?"

"Don't you dare."

And with that, they dove back into the fight, their banter echoing through the dojang as the others looked on with a mix of amusement and exasperation while resuming their own training.

On the other end of the dojo, Yoon and Tory sparred without a break. The blonde moved fast, but Do-jin was faster. Both of them proved to be worthy fighters, their coordination almost too good to be true. When suddenly, the boy stepped into her space, feinted with his left, and then spun into a sharp axe kick. She moved to block, but her timing was off. The kick landed squarely on her shoulder, sending her stumbling back before she lost her footing and hit the mat hard.

"Ah, crap," Yoon muttered in Korean, rushing forward before switching to English. "Hey, sorry! I thought you had that. Are you okay?"

Tory waved him off as she sat up, brushing strands of hair out of her face. "I'm fine. It's not the first time I've been knocked down."

Yoon offered his hand, which she reluctantly took. He pulled her to her feet, holding her arm a moment longer than necessary to check if she was steady. "Still, you were distracted. That's not like you."

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just missed it. It happens."

Yoon studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing. "No, it doesn't. Not with you. You're too sharp for that."

Tory scoffed. "Don't act like you know me."

"Not personally, I don't." Yoon admitted, releasing her arm. "But I do know what distraction looks like. And I have been training you since you've arrived."

The girl opened her mouth to snap back, but his tone wasn't condescending. It was steady, calm—almost understanding. Her shoulders tensed, but she said nothing. Instead, her eyes flicked past him, and Yoon followed her gaze.

In the far corner of the dojang, Kwon and y/n were bickering again. The y/h/c-haired girl's voice was sharp, her hands gesturing wildly, while Kwon leaned in close, his smirk infuriatingly smug. Even from this distance, the tension between them was palpable, like two live wires sparking in the same space.

Yoon glanced back at Tory, catching the slight narrowing of her eyes as she watched the scene unfold. "Ah," he said softly. "That's what this is about."

Tory's head snapped toward him, her glare returning in full force. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're distracted because of them," Yoon said, nodding toward Kwon and y/n. "I've seen the way you look at her. There's a history there, isn't there?"

Tory's jaw tightened. "Not everything's about her."

"Maybe not," Yoon conceded, stepping back to give her space. "But the way you're acting right now? It's not nothing, either."

Tory crossed her arms, her stance defensive. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're a good fighter, and you're not fighting like one today," Yoon replied simply. "And because I'm curious. Kwon told me y/n mentioned you two had some kind of past. He didn't know the details, though, and honestly, neither do I. But it's obvious there's something there."

Tory's eyes darted away, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It's none of your business."

"Fair enough," Yoon said, backing off slightly. "But if it's messing with your head, maybe it's worth talking about. Not for me—forget I'm even here—but for you."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her training shirt. Yoon waited patiently, his expression open but not intrusive. Finally, she sighed, the fight draining from her shoulders.

"We used to be friends," she said, her voice quieter now. "Before she moved to Seoul. That's it."

Yoon raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You're acting like it's way more complicated than that."

Tory glared at him again, but there was less heat behind it this time. "I don't owe you my life story, okay?"

"You don't," Yoon agreed easily. "But I don't think it's just about being friends."

Tory's eyes flicked toward Kwon and y/n again, lingering on the way the girl's expression softened just slightly when Kwon teased her, whispering something in her ear which made her burn brighter than a tomato. "She left," The blonde deadpanned, her voice barely audible. "She left, and no one knew where she went. Not me, not anyone."

Yoon nodded slowly, sensing the rawness in her tone. "That must've hurt."

"It's whatever," Tory said quickly, but her crossed arms and the way she avoided his gaze said otherwise.

Yoon didn't push further. Instead, he shifted the conversation slightly. "You know, I may not know what exactly happened, but I do know that y/n's... complicated. I've been training with her for a while now, and she's stubborn as hell. Impulsive, too. But she's not a bad person."

Tory's lips twitched, almost like she wanted to argue, but she stayed quiet.

"The thing with her," Yoon continued, "is you have to keep trying. She puts up walls, but they're not unbreakable. If there's something you want to say to her, maybe it's worth trying to get through to her. Even if it takes time."

Tory looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "Why do you care so much?"

Yoon shrugged. "Because two of this team's strongest fighters are distracted, obviously. With the Sekai Taikai barely 60 hours away, I don't think we can afford any of those. And if you can fix it, even a little, it's worth trying."

Tory snorted. "You're annoyingly right, you know that?"

"I'm a neutral party," Yoon said with a grin. "It's my job to find solutions... Speaking of—there's a Halloween frat party happening on Sunday. I was thinking about going. You should come with me."

Tory raised an eyebrow. "A frat party? Really? Do I look like I do frat parties?"

"Hey, it's not about the party," Yoon said. "It's about the people who'll be there. Specifically, y/n, most likely. If you're serious about wanting to talk to her, this might be a good chance. No pressure, no dojang rules, no sensei intervention—just a chance to have a conversation."

Tory hesitated, her defenses flaring up again. "And what if I don't want to talk to her?"

"Then don't," Yoon said easily. "But then if whatever problem the two of you have is not worth solving, then you shouldn't let it distract you at all."

For a moment, Tory looked like she might argue. But then she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. I'll try... but if it sucks, I'm blaming you."

"Deal," Yoon said, his grin widening. "Now, let's get back to training. No more free-therapy."

Tory rolled her eyes but dropped into her fighting stance. This time, her blocks came faster, sharper. Yoon couldn't help but smile. She was getting her fire back—and maybe, just maybe, the spark she needed to face y/n l/n.

Hopefully this would be a step towards healing.

Or, at the very least, an appropriate closure...

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