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TORY'S HEART RACED AS SHE STOOD IN THE CENTER OF THE RING, facing none other than y/n fucking l/n. The world around her seemed muted, save for the memories pounding in her mind like a war drum. She blinked, but no amount of composure could push them away. Every ghost from her past seemed to rise in unison, clawing at her, demanding to be acknowledged.

"It's okay, sweetie... life dealt us a bad hand."

Her late-mother's voice came first, soft and full of the tenderness that Tory had clung to all her life. It wasn't a comfort, not anymore. It was a reminder of every burden, every unfair obstacle.

"But we can change that... because we're fighters now."

The tears that welled in her eyes weren't of sorrow. No, sadness had no place here. They burned, born of rage so fierce it clawed its way up from her chest and threatened to consume her. Her mother's words had always been her mantra. But now, they felt hollow, mocking. A bad hand? No. Life didn't deal Tory a bad hand—it threw her into the fire and dared her to survive.

"You're not a villain... she certainly has no right to treat you like one."

The words echoed louder, and Tory's fists clenched at her sides. Her gaze briefly darted to her opponent. Two years apart, but those words still stung. y/n l/n had seen her at her weakest, her rawest. She had been there, the one person who hadn't looked at Tory like she was just a ticking time bomb. And yet, she'd left. Disappeared like everyone else.

"Here, hold my dignity, I got a scene to make..."

A flicker of a memory. y/n, bold and unapologetic, striding back into the country club after Tory's fight with Sam. Tory had been spiraling, guilt gnawing at her for her outburst, but the y/h/c-haired girl had been so quick to take her side, to fight her corner. She'd made it into a joke, accusing Sam of stealing her hot dog, knowing it would strike a nerve in the crudest way possible. Tory had laughed despite herself, and for the first time in forever, she'd felt less... alone.

"Some people have it good... the rest of us have to fight for everything that is ours."

Another memory slammed into her. Training with y/n back at Reseda, the two of them equally aggressive, equally unrelenting. y/n had pushed her limits, and she'd pushed back, their sessions more like battles than practice. They had learned so much from each other, and at the time, Tory had thought it was loyalty.

"You look unapproachable..."

Her first meeting with y/n replayed in her mind. Valley Fest, Cobra Kai's demo. She'd been watching from the sidelines, unsure if she belonged, but the girl had approached her, their conversation as sharp as a knife's edge. y/n had seen something in her that day. Had pushed her to join, made her believe she could be just as dangerous, just as untouchable.

"And yet you're here..."

But those memories weren't the only ones.

"I'm coming for you, bitch!"

The school fight roared to life in her mind, the chaos, the screaming, the blood. And y/n—always there, always by her side. They'd fought as if their lives depended on it, but it hadn't been enough. Miguel's fall. The expulsion. The silence that followed.

"...MIGUEL!"

Y/n had disappeared. Tory had stayed. And the weight of everything that happened after had crushed her like a vice.

"Why do they need a prince to fight for them...?"

Her mother's voice again, threading through the rage like a thread through a needle.

Tory's eyes hardened. She wasn't a villain. She was a survivor.

Across the ring, y/n stood frozen, watching the storm behind Tory's eyes shift. It was as if the girl she'd once known had cracked wide open, exposing something darker, rawer. The fire in her eyes was no longer cold and calculated—it was wild, unhinged, a living thing ready to consume everything in its path.

Y/n felt the familiar knot of unease tighten in her stomach. Her pulse quickened as she looked at the blonde girl she once called a friend. She had thought this would feel different. She had thought two years would dull the edge, that she'd be able to face Tory with the same detached resolve she'd built for everyone else.

But this wasn't just anyone.

This was Tory Nichols...

The girl's breaths came shallow as she fought the rising tide of her own memories. Her mind churned with flashes of the past—the party, the fight, the night Tory had saved her, and the moment y/n had walked away from it all without a word.

For a brief second, y/n thought about voicing her hesitation. This wasn't the time. Not with whatever firestorm Tory was fighting inside her head. But before she could speak, Kreese's booming voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Fighting positions, ready...?"

Tory's head snapped toward him, breaking from her trance. y/n's gaze flicked to Kim and Kreese as they moved to the edges of the ring, taking their places as referees. The weight of the moment settled over her like a suffocating fog.

Tory rolled her shoulders, her jaw set like stone as she dropped into her stance. The fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed—it had only sharpened.

Y/n swallowed hard, steeling herself. There was no turning back now. The fight was coming, whether she was ready or not...

AITS!

Tory's eyes burned with determination as she charged forward without hesitation, her body a blur of speed. Her opening move, a devastating roundhouse kick aimed for y/n's stomach, sliced through the air like a whip. y/n narrowly sidestepped, the whoosh of the missed kick grazing her senses. Without missing a beat, Tory followed up with a sharp jab aimed at the girl's jaw. Though she ducked just in time, the punch cutting the air above her.

"Focus," y/n told herself, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Tory's barrage was relentless—three rapid-fire sidekicks came next, each faster and more precise than the last. y/n managed to block them, but her arms vibrated with the impact. Tory was fierce, stronger than the girl remembered, and for a moment, she struggled to keep up. A sliver of doubt crept into her mind, threatening to distract her.

But then, Kwon's voice echoed in her memory: "Don't let her control the pace."

Gritting her teeth, y/n seized her chance. She pushed Tory back with a front kick, forcing her opponent to take a step back. It wasn't enough to score, but it was enough to re-establish some distance between them.

Tory's eyes narrowed. She lunged forward, this time with a spinning heel kick aimed at y/n's head. But her y/e/c eyes had been locked on Tory's hips, tracking her movements. The moment Tory's body twisted, y/n ducked and swept her leg low, catching Tory off guard and knocking her off her feet.

The crowd gasped as Tory hit the mat with a thud. The girl pounced, her fist driving into Tory's stomach with precision. A sharp grunt escaped the blonde's lips, and Sensei Kim's voice cut through the air: "Point, l/n!"

Y/n stepped back, breathing hard but feeling a surge of confidence. Tory stormed to her side of the ring, her face twisted in anger. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared the girl down, her fury simmering just beneath the surface.

Before Kim could even signal the start of the next round, Tory lunged forward, ignoring protocol entirely.

The attack was brutal and sudden—a flurry of punches and kicks rained down on y/n. She managed to block most of them, her arms moving instinctively, but the sheer intensity of Tory's assault forced her back. Each strike grew stronger, faster, and more desperate as Tory aimed to overwhelm her.

Y/n stumbled back, almost losing her foothold, and she felt a pang of panic as her defenses faltered. A brutal kick slipped through, connecting with her stomach and knocking the air from her lungs.

"Point!" Kreese barked, signaling Tory's equalizer.

But the blonde didn't stop there. Another kick followed—this one aimed at y/n's face. The crack of impact echoed through the air, and the girl fell down, clutching her cheek.

The crowd protested in outrage, Yoon shouting, "That's a point deduction! Illegal contact!"

Kim nodded in agreement, but Kreese remained unmoved. "She's fine," he said, waving it off.

Kwon's jaw clenched as he muttered something under his breath, his gaze fixed on y/n.

The unfairness of it all ignited a fire within the girl. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from a primal, boiling rage. Her vision narrowed, and every nerve in her body seemed to hum with raw energy.

When the next round began, y/n didn't wait for Tory to make the first move. She surged forward, her steps deliberate and aggressive. A spinning back kick slammed into Tory's ribs, sending her stumbling. y/n followed with a lightning-fast hook kick that barely missed Tory's head, forcing her to duck.

But the girl was relentless now, her movements fluid and unpredictable. She unleashed a barrage of kicks—crescent, axe, and even a butterfly twist—that had the onlookers on the edge of their seats. Tory blocked a few, but her form wavered under the sheer force of y/n's assault.

Kwon's voice was low but audible to the smirking Yoon Do-jin beside him. "That's my girl, always go for head..." he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips as he watched y/n dominate.

Y/n's attacks became sharper, dirtier. She feinted a kick, only to drive her knee into Tory's gut when she lowered her guard. Tory gasped for air, staggering back.

"She's not holding back anymore," Park whispered, glancing nervously at Lee. "We should totally write this down later!"

Y/n's ferocity was terrifying. Her strikes were precise, almost surgical, but there was an edge to them—a raw, animalistic aggression that sent chills through the onlookers. Even Kreese, who prided himself on encouraging ruthlessness, seemed momentarily taken aback.

Tory's confidence faltered. The girl she had known—gentle, defensive, hesitant—was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a fighter who seemed ready to tear her apart.

When Tory stepped out of bounds, stumbling to avoid a brutal sidekick, Kreese raised his hand. "Out of bounds. No point."

"What?!" y/n snapped, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

"She was already out of the ring," Kreese said, his tone unyielding.

Rage bubbled within y/n. "She stepped out because I kicked her out!"

"Rules are rules," Kreese said coldly, even making Sensei Kim eye him suspiciously, though she said nothing, waiting for her student to show her true self under the immense pressure of injustice.

Y/n's teeth clenched, and a low curse escaped her lips as she vowed to make each and every point she scored undeniable. Her next move was brutal—a flying kick that hit Tory square in the chest, sending her sprawling. The impact echoed through the woods, silencing the audience. 

Tory scrambled to her feet, but y/n was already on her. A spinning hook kick caught Tory's shoulder, followed by a palm strike to her jaw. Tory's movements grew sluggish as she tried to defend herself, but the girl was unstoppable.

The fight ended with a devastating roundhouse kick that landed squarely on Tory's temple, sending her crashing to the ground.

"Knockout! Winner!" Kim declared, her voice cutting through the stunned silence.

Y/n let out a cry of triumph, her voice piercing the stillness and reverberating through the trees. She stood over Tory, her chest heaving as she glared down at her opponent.

For a moment, no one moved. The onlookers were frozen, their faces a mixture of awe and unease. Even Kreese seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

Her body still thrummed with the aftershocks of battle. Her breath came in heavy bursts, but the adrenaline was fading, replaced by something unexpected.

The realization hit her like a wave—slow at first, then all at once. She had, without even meaning to, let go of the anger that had weighed her down for over two years. The bitterness, the resentment that had simmered since the school fight, was gone. In that moment, she realized she had used it all up in the fight—every ounce of rage she had carried for so long, every ounce of frustration. And now, it was out.

Her eyes softened, a gentle weight lifting from her chest. The heat of the moment faded, and she felt a quiet calm settle over her.

For a split second, she stood there, looking down at Tory, who was still on the ground, breathing heavily, her eyes wide with shock. Tory's gaze locked with hers—vulnerable, shaken—but there was no animosity in her friend's y/e/c orbs, only something softer, quieter.

Y/n inhaled deeply, as if grounding herself, and then slowly stepped forward, her movements deliberate and tranquil. She extended her hand, reaching down to help the blonde up.

"You fought well... as always," Said the girl, her voice surprisingly steady. Her gaze held a quiet sincerity, almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Nice to see you again."

Tory stared at y/n's hand for a moment, clearly puzzled by both the intensity of the fight and the unexpected gesture of kindness. Slowly, she reached up and took it, allowing y/n to pull her to her feet.

The crowd, sensing the shift, murmured quietly among themselves. But the girl didn't care. She wasn't fighting for anyone but herself anymore. The fight, the anger, the bitterness—it was all in the past now. She had faced her demons, and she had finally laid them to rest.

And somewhere deep down... Tory Nichols felt the same.

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