HAYDEN WAS A BITCH WITH A FULL EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP.

But with no sleep? She was a whole monster.

So when frantic, unrelenting knocks pounded at the door, her irritation hit its peak before she even got out of bed.

She dragged herself across the room, eyes half-lidded, hair a mess, every muscle in her body tense. Swinging the door open with more force than necessary, she snapped, "Oh my god, what?" Her voice was sharp, and laced with a clear don't-push-me energy.

Logan stood there, unfazed, casually leaning against the doorframe with a lazy grin. "Good morning to you too. You look like shit, dude."

Hayden glared at her, debating whether she should just shut the door in her face or punch her for fun.

"Aren't you a master of the fucking obvious?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes and stepping aside so he could come in. "What do you want."

It wasn't a question. Just a cranky demand.

Logan sauntered inside, glancing around like she hadn't been here a hundred times before. "Thought you could use some air. And, y'know, food." She raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the half-empty kitchen. "When's the last time you ate something that wasn't caffeine and saltine crackers?"

Hayden scowled. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look fine." Logan's voice was heavy with sarcasm as she tossed his car keys in the air and caught them. "Come with me to work. I'll get you free sushi. You need food. I need company. Win-win."

Hayden narrowed her eyes at her, unsure whether to believe Logan's casual tone or call her out on it. Logan had been doing this more lately— showing up, checking in, making sure Hayden was eating and not completely losing her mind. Part of her appreciated it, though she'd never admit it. The other part just felt... off.

Logan's persistence wasn't random. Hayden knew that. It was guilt. Guilt that Logan constantly carried, the days lost to addiction, when Hayden had needed her and Logan hadn't been able to show up. Now, she was making up for it, whether Hayden liked it or not.

Her expression didn't change, but her stomach betrayed her by grumbling quietly at the mention of food. Logan grinned. "See? I knew you couldn't say no to free sushi."

"Fine," she grumbled, arms crossed.

Logan worked at this trendy sushi bar downtown, and the thought of good food—and not being stuck in her apartment all day—was enough to sway her.

"Come on, cranky. I'll even let you pick the music in the car," Logan said, already heading for the door like she knew she was following.

Hayden sighed heavily, grabbing her hoodie from the back of a chair. "I hate you."

Logan laughed as they headed out. "You love me."

—

The familiar smell of soy sauce and freshly rolled sushi filled the air as Hayden followed Logan up the steps of the sushi bar. Logan flashed a grin at one of the chefs behind the counter, who gave her a nod in return.

"Alright, sit your grumpy ass down," Logan said, pulling out a chair for Hayden at the bar.

Hayden rolled her eyes but obliged, sinking into the seat. She was exhausted, the weight of sleepless nights clinging to her shoulders. The last thing she wanted was to be in public, but Logan's persistence had worn her down. Besides, free sushi wasn't something she would ever turn down.

Logan leaned over the counter, chatting easily with the chef as he started preparing a few rolls. Hayden zoned out, tapping her fingers idly against the table.

"Hey, Logan," a voice said behind her.

Hayden stiffened. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The voice was enough to stir something sharp in her chest.

Logan glanced up, not sparing another glance at Hayden. "Hey, Tory. I didn't know you worked today."

Hayden turned slowly, her eyes meeting Tory's. She looked caught off guard, an apron in hand, but her gaze didn't waver from hers. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The tension between them was palpable.

Going down the list of people she owed an apology to, Hayden knew Tory was on there. But it's not like Hayden hadn't already tried.

She'd sent texts, calls, voicemails. She was on the verge of sending a pigeon carrier if it meant Tory would hear her apology. Or at least respond to it.

Normally, Hayden would be lenient on the fact that she hadn't responded. She was probably busy. But today? Running on no sleep? She wasn't about to let this slide.

"Oh. Hey." Tory's tone was cool, indifferent— like it hadn't been weeks since they spoke.

Hayden crossed her arms, her irritation flaring. "Hey? That's all you got?"

Tory shrugged, wiping down the counter. "Try the spicy tuna roll? It's our most popular item on the menu?"

Hayden scoffed in disbelief. "I've sent messages. Like, millions of messages."

Tory set the rag aside and leaned on the counter, her eyes steady but distant. "Nine, yeah." She had the audacity to correct. "Work, school, life— you know how it is."

"And you couldn't find the time to answer a text?"

Tory's hand froze mid-motion before she set the rag down, sighing. "What do you want, Hayden?"

"I want to know why you've been dodging me," Hayden shot back, voice edged with frustration. "I know I fucked up and I've been trying to apologize."

There was a pause, tension settling between them like static in the air. Finally, Tory leaned in slightly, keeping her voice low. "During the fight, when I got there.." She trailed off, already regretting even starting. "I saw Cobra Kai helping you."

Hayden furrowed her brows, nodding her head. "Yeah. And?"

"And so were Robby and Hawk. They were there for you."

Hayden blinked, confused. "Yeah... they just helped me beat Sam and Miyagi Do. That's it."

Tory glanced down at the floor, for once, speechless. Hayden didn't know what was going on in Tory's head, and she wasn't exactly sure where this conversation was going as she trailed her gaze off to the side.

Tory gave a sharp breath, trying again despite her brain yelling at her not to. "Right. But... I would've helped you."

Hayden blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in Tory's voice.

"You just... could've asked me. That's all."

Hayden frowned. "Asked you?"

"Yeah." Tory's tone was light, almost careless, but there was something underneath it—something she didn't want to admit out loud. "I would've been there. You know, if you needed someone... you could've picked me."

Hayden stared at her, realizing too late what this was really about. Tory wasn't mad because of the fight itself. She was mad because she felt left out— like Hayden hadn't trusted her enough to turn to her.

Hayden blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in Tory's voice. "It wasn't like that. They were just... there. I didn't plan it."

Tory studied her for a moment, as if weighing whether or not to believe her. Finally, she nodded, the tension between them easing just a little. "Okay. I just— I wanted you to know I'm here if you ever need it." She murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed that she felt 'left out' in the first place.

Hayden nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

A fresh silence washed over them.

"So how'd you know I worked here?" Tory spoke after a moment, breaking the silence.

"I didn't. I thought you worked at the skating rink." Hayden hummed, playing with the soy sauce glass in front of her.

"No, that's at night. My—" Tory cut herself off, realizing she'd never been so open about her mom's disease before and her situation at home. Yet here she was, ready to fully tell Hayden about it without a second thought. "I needed a second job." Was all that she could get out.

Hayden nodded, not pushing her for anything else. She had a really good sense for telling when people didn't wanna share anymore than they already were.

From experience.

"You gonna stop by the dojo anytime soon?" Tory asked, her tone casual, though there was a flicker of hope in her voice. "We have new recruits. But none of them are you."

Hayden shook her head without hesitation. "Nah."

Tory's brows drew together for a split second before letting out scoffed sound out. "You're sticking with Miyagi-Do? Seriously?" She said it condescendingly, in a way that made Hayden feel a little defensive.

"I'm not sticking with anything," Hayden replied flatly. "I'm done with all of it."

Tory leaned her weight onto the counter, narrowing her eyes. "Since when? I thought you were all about getting stronger, fighting back."

"Since my mom wanted to send me away the second she found out about the fight." Hayden muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. "She won't let me go near any of the dojos anymore."

Tory scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's it? She says no, and you're out? I didn't think you cared about following the rules."

Hayden's eyes hardened. "It's not black and white, Tory. I can't. It's simple."

Tory leaned forward slightly, her brows raised. "Bullshit. You love fighting."

"Maybe I used to," Hayden muttered. "But look what it got me. Miguel's hurt, Robby's pissed, and my mom doesn't trust me."

She stared at her fingers, occupying her hands by picking at them absentmindedly.

"I didn't know. But you don't have to bail on everything because of that, you know." Tory's voice was quieter now, less biting. "If you need something—or someone—you could... I don't know, come to me instead of running off to those Miyagi-Do idiots."

Hayden's eyes flicked up, and for a moment, she saw through Tory's guarded expression. The nonchalance was still there, but beneath it was something real—something vulnerable.

"Yeah," She nodded, "I will."

Tory hesitated, looking at the girl. "Do you wanna go somewhere?"

—

"I have a little spot like this, too." Hayden said, looking around the big field of grass, uphill being a little playground.

She looked beside her to see Tory already sitting down, closing her eyes. As if right now was the first moment she let herself take a breath.

Hayden followed suit, sitting beside her. She didn't know how much she needed a breather too.

Tory hesitated, watching Hayden sit quietly, legs stretched out on the grass, hands resting loosely in her lap. The breeze caught strands of Hayden's hair, making them dance in the fading sunlight, and Tory couldn't help but stare, her chest tightening.

It wasn't like Tory to get caught up in feelings. She wasn't the type to pine or fantasize about what could be. Life had taught her not to expect much from people. But with Hayden? She couldn't help it. Hayden made her want more, even if it was just the hope that maybe one day she'd notice Tory the way Tory noticed her.

"I don't get a lot of time for stuff like this anymore," Tory admitted, her voice low. "Between work and... everything else."

Hayden gave her a sideways glance.

"My mom's sick," she said quietly. "Has been for a while now. It's just me and Brandon, my little brother, so... someone's gotta take care of things."

Hayden didn't say anything, processing her words. "How old is he?"

"Eight," Tory said, her voice steady but Hayden could tell it was taking Tory every inch of strength she had to keep it from wavering. "I make sure he gets to school, help him with homework, cook, clean... basically, everything. And now with mom getting worse, I've been working two jobs to keep things running."

Hayden didn't know what to say. She'd known Tory was tough, but she hadn't realized just how much weight she was carrying on her shoulders. "That's... a lot, Tory."

Tory let out a bitter chuckle. "Just the cards I was dealt." She looked down, picking at some grass. "Sometimes it kinda just feels like the world hates me. It's cruel, and it doesn't care how hard you're trying. You just... deal with it."

There was a long silence. Hayden wasn't used to people opening up to her like this, and it left her feeling strangely unsettled. She looked over at Tory, who was trying hard to keep her expression indifferent, as if the weight of her confession wasn't crushing her from the inside.

"You ever... tell anyone this?" Hayden asked softly.

"No point," Tory said with a shrug. "People either pity you or think you're making excuses. Neither helps."

Hayden didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the ground, thinking. This was probably supposed to be the part where she, in turn, shared her most deepest traumas.

But that same voice whispered to her that she'd end up regretting it. That people don't stick around for her, so what would be the point?

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, she spoke quietly. "For what it's worth... I get it. That feeling, like the world's out to break you."

Tory glanced at her, something softening in her expression. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Hayden muttered. "But you don't have to deal with it alone, you know. I mean, I'm not great at the whole feelings thing, but if you ever need someone to vent to..."

They fell into another silence, Hayden lost in her own world while Tory tried not to dwell on how much she wished things could be different. Wished that Hayden would look at her the way she used to look at Miguel—like she mattered. Like she was someone special.

But that wasn't how things worked. Hayden didn't see her that way. To Hayden, she was just Tory— her tough friend who never backed down, the friend who didn't mind getting her hands dirty. Nothing more.

And maybe that was enough.

At least, that's what Tory told herself as Hayden sat up, stretching her arms over her head and letting out a groan. "We should probably head back before Logan starts spamming my phone again."

"Yeah," Tory agreed, standing up and brushing off her jeans. She didn't want to leave, didn't want to break this quiet moment between them, but she followed Hayden without complaint.

—

Logan could feel Hayden's wide eyed stare bore into the side of her head as she drove, squirming uncomfortably under her gaze. "Why're you staring like a psychopath?"

"Do you remember that one night? I was twelve, and it was late. You were supposed to be watching me." Hayden spoke quietly, like she was trying not to relive the memory completely. But it was burned in her brain.

She couldn't forget even if she wanted to.

"But you got so high you didn't even know where you were—"

"Stop." Logan turned to her, grip tightening on the wheel.

But Hayden continued. "You had locked yourself in the bathroom, and I sat outside the door for hours, just listening to you cry and scream at nothing—"

"Hayden, stop." She spoke again, this time a little more desperately.

"I thought you were gonna die in there." Hayden ignored her, "I didn't sleep. I didn't even move. I just sat there. Waiting—"

"Please—"

"—hoping you'd come out. I felt like I was waiting for you stop breathing, and I tried to get in. I couldn't, so I cried all night by the door—"

"Stop!"

"I needed you!" Hayden spoke over her, eyes blazing furiously. "I was twelve and I needed someone. I needed you, and you fucked that up!"

Logan stared ahead at the road, eyes glossing over as she swallowed thickly.

"So why now, Logan? Why, now, are you coming around more? Instead of then, when I needed you most? Why now when I've learned how to live without you?"

The light turned green, and Logan eased the car forward, gripping the wheel tightly to keep her hands from shaking. "I didn't mean to put you through that, H. I didn't want you to have to deal with... all of it."

"But I did," Hayden said flatly. "You didn't want it, but it happened anyway. I didn't get a choice."

The weight of the memory hung thick in the air, suffocating. Logan's throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. "I... I didn't know it was that bad."

"Yeah," Hayden said quietly, staring out the window. "You didn't."

"I can't fix the past, Hayden..." Logan's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, soft but steady.

Yeah, well, I can't forget it either.

That was the problem. The past was always there, like a shadow she couldn't shake. Even when Logan said she'd changed, all Hayden could see was the girl who left her behind when she needed her most.

Logan bit the inside of her cheek, glancing at her sister briefly before returning her eyes to the road. "I know I can't erase it. I hate that I can't. But I'm here now, and I'm trying."

As Logan's voice wavered, Hayden felt a bitter satisfaction rise in her chest. Good. Now you know what it felt like. But that thought didn't bring the comfort she expected. Instead, it left her feeling hollow, weighed down by something too heavy to name.

"You've said that before," Hayden muttered. "You always say you're trying, Logan. And then something happens, and you're gone again. How do I know this time is different?"

Logan didn't answer right away. She didn't have a perfect response. All she could do was offer what little truth she had. "You don't. I don't even know. I just... I know that I can't lose you again. Not to something I fucked up. I know I wasn't around when I should've been. I was a mess, and it's on me. But I'm better.  I got this job, and it's... the longest one I've been able to keep since, well, you know. I want to turn things around. For real this time. You're all I've got left, H."

Hayden stared at the side of Logan's face with a clenched jaw, teeth grinding together as she slowly debated in her head whether she would be a fool of believing Logan or not.

She'd been proven a fool time and time again, she didn't know if was ready to get burned again.

She wanted to believe Logan. She wanted to believe that her sister had changed, that the girl who once disappeared for days, leaving her to fend for herself, was gone. But it wasn't that easy. It couldn't be.

Every time Logan said she was sorry, it just reminded her of how many times she'd heard those same words before—followed by nothing but disappointment.

She's going to leave again. You know she will. And when she does, it's going to hurt even more.

Hayden clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes, but she'd berate herself if they dare slipped.

If she's lying, I'll survive. I always do. But if she's not...

That thought scared her more than anything. If Logan was telling the truth, if she really had changed, then maybe—just maybe—Hayden didn't have to be so alone anymore.

Her shoulders sagged as the weight of it all pressed down on her. She wanted to say something, anything, but her throat felt tight, like the words were stuck somewhere between her heart and her mind.

"Just don't disappear again," Hayden finally muttered, voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't forgiveness. Not yet. But it was something—a crack in the wall she'd built around herself.

And as Logan promised she wouldn't leave again, Hayden fought the urge to believe her. Because believing meant opening herself up to the possibility of getting hurt again. And she didn't know if she could survive that.

But for now, she let herself lean into the silence, let herself sit in the uneasy truce they had found. For now, it was enough.

authors note.
PLS I AM NOT GETTING ALL THREE SEASONS DONE BEFORE SEASON SIX DROP IM KMSSS
anyways sad/happy/angsty chapter for yall BYE