WHEN LOGAN WAS AN ADDICT, SHE COULD'T TELL YOU HER LEFT FROM RIGHT.

Hayden used to find her in the most pitiful states—barely standing, barely breathing. A crumpled form in the corner of her room, the television flickering as Logan whispered apologies that didn't quite make sense. Her pupils were pinpoints, her voice slurred, her words fragmented. Hayden had to guide her through everything.

"Come on," Hayden would mutter, hooking Logan's arm over her shoulder. "You can't stay like this."

There were nights when Logan would get so bad, Hayden would sit by her side, a trash can nearby, wiping her face clean when the nausea overtook her. Nights when Logan's shaking hands would reach for her, desperate, and Hayden would hold on tight because that was all she could do.

But Hayden never yelled. Never lectured. Her anger burned quietly, slow and steady like a furnace she didn't want anyone to notice. She hated how Logan's addiction turned her into a caretaker instead of a sister. Hated the way she had to check her pulse in the middle of the night or count pills to see if more had gone missing.

It was the worst kind of helplessness, knowing you couldn't fix someone who didn't want to be fixed.

In the present day, things were different—or at least that's what Hayden tried to tell herself.

Logan wasn't using anymore, she promised her. Not since she'd clawed her way into sobriety. She had a stable job, the longest one she's kept so far. Something that made Hayden think, maybe, they could finally be normal.

But then Logan called her.

"I forgot my wallet," Logan had said over the phone, her tone rushed but casual, like it wasn't a big deal. "Can you drop it off at work? Please?"

Hayden froze, the memory of all those frantic calls flashing through her mind. For a moment, she didn't respond, her hand tightening around her phone.

"Hayden?" Logan's voice prodded, a bit more insistent now.

"Yeah," Hayden had said finally, her voice calm, masking the undercurrent of unease. "Where is it?"

"Should be on the counter," Logan said, then added quickly, "You don't have to come inside or anything. Just leave it with the receptionist."

"Sure," Hayden replied, her tone flat.

When she hung up, she stared at the phone in her hand for a long moment, her expression unreadable. There was no reason to panic. Logan had been clean for months now. She was fine. But Hayden couldn't shake the feeling.

The wallet was on the counter, right where Logan said it would be. Hayden picked it up, her jaw tightening as she turned it over in her hands. She wondered if Logan had forgotten it because she was rushing. Or maybe because she was stressed.

Or maybe because she wasn't as fine as she said she was.

Which is how Hayden ended up at the sushi bar fifteen minutes later, wallet in hand. She walked inside, gripping the wallet tightly. The receptionist would've been enough, but something about this felt off.

Logan was at the front desk, talking to a coworker, her laugh soft and easy. She looked fine. Normal. But Hayden still scanned her, searching for signs— anything that didn't sit right.

Logan turned and saw her. "Hey, you didn't have to come in."

"Your wallet," Hayden said simply, holding it out.

Logan took it with a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

Hayden didn't say anything else, but her gaze lingered on Logan for just a second too long. Logan shifted under the weight of it, her smile faltering.

"I'm okay," Logan said, quieter now.

Hayden nodded once, her face unreadable. She didn't say what she was thinking: You say that now, but what if you're not later? What if you slip again?

Instead, she cleared her throat. "You'll tell me if you're not?"

Logan gave a brief smile, nodding. "I will."

Hayden didn't know if she believed her. Trusted her enough to tell her the truth. But, all she could really do was take her word for it and nod.

"You hungry?"

Hayden made a face. "The sushi gave me food poisoning last time."

Logan snorted, "We just got a fresh new shipment. It'll all be good."

Hayden was hesitant but sat down at a table, sipping on her water.

"Hi, I'll be your server. What can I— Hayden," Tory paused, eyes widening.

"Nichols," Hayden acknowledged, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. "I'm good. You can tend to your other tables." She muttered without sparing her a glance.

"Look, about the other day—"

"You mean when you made me try out again, even though you know I fight better than half the dumbasses on our team? Because I want Robby to be on Cobra Kai?"

Tory scoffed lightly, shaking her head. "I don't understand why you're defending him. He didn't even show up for you at the fight."

Hayden narrowed her eyes, jaw tightening. "Why do you care? With Robby on our team, we have a better chance at winning the All Valley. We all want the same thing."

"I want what's best for y— Cobra Kai." She cleared her throat, dropping her gaze to the floor as soon her slip up left her lips. She'd hoped Hayden didn't catch it.

She didn't.

"Yeah, I could tell by the way you made one of your best fighters fight for a spot on the team." She snorted, picking up her phone like she were done with the conversation.

"Hayden—"

"Hey, you want the California rolls or the dragon rolls because—" Logan looked at the waitress, nodding at Tory. "Hey, Tor. I didn't know you worked today."

"Yeah, I picked up an extra shift." She murmured, catching Hayden's eye because she was now hyper aware of the fact that she had overshared every little family detail of hers and Hayden now knew her inside and out.

The thought made her squirm a little.

"How do you two know each other?" Tory found herself asking in order to draw attention away from the thought.

"She's my little sister." Logan answered with a hint of humor in her tone.

Tory snapped her gaze at Logan, then at Hayden who raised her brows at her, then back at Logan. She was starting to wonder how she didn't connect the dots before.

"Your last name is—"

"Yup. Sanders. Logan Sanders." Logan slung an arm around Hayden's shoulder to which she grumbled under her breath and pushed it off.

"Yeah, you know, now that I see it, you two do look alike." Tory murmured, eyes flickering between both girls, lingering a little longer on Hayden than she'd like to admit. "Kinda have the same mannerisms, too."

At that exact moment, Logan and Hayden ran a hand through their hair, simultaneously sucking in a breath.

"No we don't." They waved off, but then looked at each other when realizing they spoke in unison.

Just then a customer called for Tory, and she looked between the two before slowly backing away and earning a laugh from Logan and a snort from Hayden.

"How do you know Tory?"

"Karate." Hayden answered, sipping on her water.

Logan nodded, Tory had mentioned karate once or twice to her. "So California rolls or dragon rolls?"

"California," Hayden hummed, looking down at her shoes and crossing one leg over the other.

"I think you should leave." Hayden heard Tory's voice speak shakily, and everyone who knew Tory knew that her voice never wavered or strayed from the strong voice who led warmups.

Hayden furrowed her brows, looking over. She immediately stood, as if it were a natural reflex to be defensive, when she saw Amanda LaRusso sat a table.

The chair scraped against the floor, alerting Amanda of her presence.

"Mrs. LaRusso," she said, her voice low and calm, almost lazy.

"Hayden," Amanda returned, her tone cutting as she looked her up and down. "Glad to see you're doing just fine. Meanwhile, my daughter's covered in bruises. She wakes up screaming at night, and I'm the one helping her bandage herself before and after school."

Hayden's expression didn't change. She glanced briefly at the floor, her hands slipping into her pockets. "At least she has someone to help her," she murmured, her tone unreadable.

Amanda's brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Hayden said, lifting her head slightly, meeting Amanda's eyes with a calm, unflinching gaze.

Amanda's voice hardened. "We welcomed you into our home—treated you like family—and this is how you repay us? Breaking into my house? Attacking my daughter? You think this is some kind of game?"

Hayden's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. Like she found humor in the situation. "If it is, your daughter already lost. Badly."

Amanda's nostrils flared, but Hayden kept talking, her voice eerily steady. "You LaRusso's have this holier-than-thou bullshit mentality. You wonder why half of Reseda hates you guys."

Amanda leaned forward, lowering her voice to a hiss. "You were supposed to be better than this," She murmured, catching Hayden a little off guard.

"I'm gonna tell you like I told Tory. You guys can have your little tournament. But if you so much as touch a hair on Sam's head before then, I will personally make sure you rot in prison. You can spend the rest of your life scrubbing toilets—if you're lucky."

That hit Hayden harder than any punch she'd taken in her life. For a moment, her stoic mask faltered, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but nothing came out.

Juvie.

Amanda's words echoed in her head, each one landing like a physical blow. Hayden had spent so much of her life fighting against that assumption—that she'd never make it, that she was destined for a cell.

Amanda had been one of the few people who'd seen her as more than her circumstances, someone who'd offered her a place at their table, a roof over her head. And now, Amanda was saying the same thing everyone else had always said.

Hayden didn't flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, studying Amanda as if she were a particularly dull opponent.

"Is there a problem here?" Logan's voice broke through the tension, calm but firm. She stepped beside Hayden, her eyes flicking between her sister and Amanda. She knew that look in Hayden's eyes too well.

"Not a problem," Amanda said, her tone dripping with forced composure. "Just delivering a warning."

Logan raised a brow. "Right. Because that's what grown women do in diners. Deliver warnings."

The manager approached, glancing between them. "Is everything okay here, ma'am?"

Amanda crossed her arms. "I don't know. Is it?" She shot a pointed look at Hayden, who didn't even blink, just glared into her eyes, not breaking eye contact just once.

She felt her blood begin to boil and her body start to get hot. She was tired of the LaRusso's thinking they could run anywhere and do anything without consequences.

"Miss? I don't want my soup to get cold." A customer spoke up.

Tory slammed her fist on the table, her voice snapping. "Why don't you shut the hell up?"

The sound of Tory's fist hitting the table is what made Hayden break eye contact, eyes slightly widening.

"Tory!" The manager's voice boomed. "That's it. Take off your uniform. I've had enough of your attitude. You're fired."

Hayden shook her head quickly. "Wait, you can't—"

"Who are you again?" The manager raised a brow, glancing Hayden up and down like she were a nobody. Which, she guessed she was.

"You can't fire her," Logan said, stepping forward. Her voice was calm but firm. "She's the most reliable worker here."

The manager sneered. "You want to defend her? Then you're out too. Pack your uniform."

Hayden felt her heart drop, the weight of guilt settling in her chest like a lead anchor. A frustrated noise slipped from her lips, sharp and unfiltered, but it didn't dull the ache clawing at her insides.

Logan had fought so hard to rebuild her life after hitting rock bottom. Finding a job—any job—had been an uphill battle in itself, with rejection after rejection wearing her down.

Hayden remembered every moment of it: the nights Logan sat at the kitchen table, circling classifieds in red ink, her hands shaking as she gripped the pen; the way she would walk into interviews with hope that crumbled into silent disappointment when the answer was always the same. "Not a good fit." "We'll call you."

But they never did.

When Logan finally landed this job, it felt like the start of something better, something steady. Hayden had seen the light in her sister's eyes when she brought home her first paycheck, had heard the pride in her voice when she talked about how she could hold her head high again. It wasn't just a job—it was a lifeline. A chance to prove, to herself and to the world, that she was more than her addiction.

And now it was gone.

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. The guilt was suffocating, but the anger that flared up alongside it burned hotter. This wasn't just her fault— no, this was on Amanda Larusso, too. Hayden's gaze darkened as she replayed Amanda's harsh words, her cold threats. Hayden had already been drowning in her own chaos, and Amanda had just tossed another weight on her shoulders without a second thought.

The Larusso's always thought they were so perfect, always looking down on people like Hayden, like Tory, like Logan.

They sat in their pristine house with their big smiles and their perfect family dinners, but they had no idea what it was like to scrape by, to fight for every scrap of hope.

They didn't know what it was like to see someone you love lose everything and then claw their way back piece by painful piece, only to have it ripped away again.

Amanda had waltzed into that diner, guns blazing, throwing around threats like her words didn't have consequences. She didn't stop to think—didn't care—about what her actions might cost someone like Logan.

As far as Amanda Larusso was concerned, Logan was just another pawn, another casualty in a game she didn't even realize she was playing.

Hayden gritted her teeth, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say. She wanted to scream at Amanda, to tell her how this wasn't just some petty revenge plot, how Logan had been holding on by a thread, and now that thread had snapped. But what was the point? People like the Larussos would never understand what it felt like to lose everything.

Instead, Hayden stood there, fists tight, shoulders tense, the guilt and anger swirling in her chest like a storm. She couldn't shake the image of Logan's face when she found out—the flicker of hope that would dim, the quiet disappointment that would seep back in.

This wasn't just about the job. It was about Logan's recovery, her self-worth, her chance at something better. And now, Hayden had taken that from her, all because the Larussos couldn't leave well enough alone.

"Thanks, a lot." Tory scoffed at Amanda, quickly untying her apron and chucking it at the manager.

Logan followed suit, but instead of giving him the chance to catch it, she dropped the apron effortlessly at his feet.

"This place got a B on the health inspection." Tory announced as she walked backwards. "They hide the sign so you can't see it. And I saw one of the cooks dip his balls in the miso." She leaned over to the guy who was continuously asking for his soup.

Logan followed suit, following Tory. "And the cooks don't wash their hands. Or wear hairnets."

"Yeah, I ate here last week. The sushi gave me food poisoning!" Hayden announced, murmurs starting to scatter.

She turned to Amanda sharply, who now looked guilty.

"Thanks for getting Tory and my sister fired," She stated bitterly, her voice dropping an octave or two. "Have you ever stopped and asked yourself why your daughters covered in bumps and bruises and not who covered your daughters in bumps and bruises?"

It was taking everything in Hayden not to swing.

"You thought I was mad before? Congratulations, you just made me livid." Without looking at it, she knocked over the cup of water Amanda had sitting at her table and onto the floor, sucking in a deep yet sharp breath as she kept it together as much as she possible could. "I'll see your daughter at the All Valley."

She turned and walked out without waiting for anyone.

—

"There's a reason Miyagi Do is difficult to learn."

Hayden stood one of the two lines next to Tory, sucking in a sharp breath as they continued to practice the Miyagi Do moves they've been teaching them.

"These blocks are incredibly precise. Each one is designed to overcome a specific attack."

Robby stopped in front of Tory and Hayden knew it wasn't going to end well. Especially because those two always felt the need to press each other's buttons lately.

It was like a little game they played to see who could piss each other off more. They challenged each other in spars, who could lift heavier, who could run faster.

Always felt the need to be in competition.

"Show me wax on, wax off." He told her, getting into a fighting position.

He threw a punch, harder than he was supposed to, but Tory managed to block it. Barely.

Robby barely acknowledged her after, as if to say he wasn't even trying his hardest. "The more you learn Miyagi Do, the tougher you are to defeat." He looked around at the class.

"Except for one tiny flaw." Kreese's voice boomed from behind them. "Their entire style is reactive, which means all their moves are countermoves. That means we are in control. And we can use that to set traps."

Robby looked back at Tory. "Show me paint the fence."

Tory immediately raised her arms, blocking the first few punches Robby threw her way. Her movements were sharp and precise, but she wasn't fast enough to catch Robby's next move. He dipped low, sweeping her legs out from under her in one fluid motion. Tory hit the mat with a thud, groaning in frustration.

Kyler, standing off to the side, clapped his hands together. "Oh, oh! My turn!" He turned to Hayden, who stood motionless, her arms crossed and her jaw set tight. Her expression had been carved from stone since the moment Kreese started talking.

She had barely spoken all day, the fury from earlier still coursing through her veins.

Amanda LaRusso's voice replayed in her head like an echo she couldn't shake: "You'll be scrubbing toilets in prison for the rest of your life." And then her sister—Logan, fired on the spot, humiliated right in front of everyone.

It wasn't just a grudge now; it was gasoline poured on an already roaring fire.

Kyler either didn't notice or didn't care. "Come on, tough girl," he said, throwing a punch her way, testing her limits.

It was a mistake.

Hayden caught his fist without flinching, twisting his arm behind his back so fast he barely had time to react. A sharp yelp escaped his lips as she forced him to his knees, her grip unrelenting.

"Enough!" Kreese's voice boomed, silencing the room.

Hayden released Kyler with a shove, her eyes hard and unyielding as she stepped back without a word.

Kreese didn't even glance at her as he spoke. "Nichols. Sanders. In my office. Continue the lesson."

Tory, still catching her breath, shot a quick glare at Robby before rising to her feet and heading toward the office.

Hayden's footsteps echoed through the dojo as she made her way toward Kreese's office, her posture rigid, her shoulders taut with tension. She didn't acknowledge anyone, didn't give a second glance to Kyler nursing his arm or the rest of the students who stared in hushed silence. Her presence was heavy, her rage palpable even without a word.

Robby stood at the edge of the mat, watching her retreating figure. Something about the way she moved—like she was carrying a weight that threatened to crush her—stirred an uneasy feeling in his chest. Hayden was always stoic, always composed, but today, it was different.

She wasn't just quiet; she was seething.

And it wasn't just from the moment with Kyler. No, it had started long before that. Robby could tell.

His brow furrowed as he shifted his stance, his arms crossing. He tried to piece together what could've set her off, what could've driven that icy anger into her normally unshakable demeanor.

Hayden disappeared into Kreese's office, the door closing behind her with a soft click. Robby's gaze lingered on the door, his mind racing.

Inside Kreese's office, the air was as heavy as the tension in Hayden's clenched fists.

She stood stiffly by the wall, her gaze fixed on a random spot on the floor, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Tory leaned against Kreese's desk, arms crossed, trying to play off her own frustration but failing miserably.

Kreese sat behind the desk, his sharp eyes darting between them. He didn't speak for a long moment, letting the silence stretch and press against them. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and cutting.

"You two want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Kreese's tone was calm, but it carried the weight of an order.

"It's nothing," Hayden said immediately, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Tory shot her a glance, her lips twitching like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. "Yeah, we're fine," she added, though her voice didn't sound convincing.

Kreese leaned back in his chair, studying them both like a predator sizing up his prey. "Fine?" he echoed. "You call that fine? Nichols, you were one second away from breaking the rules. And Hayden..." His eyes narrowed at her. "I've never seen you lose focus like that. Not once. So don't tell me it's nothing."

The room went still for a moment. Kreese's gaze remained locked on hers, sharp and unrelenting.

Tory finally broke the silence, exhaling loudly as if she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Amanda LaRusso got me fired," she blurted, her voice dripping with anger. "Came into my work, threw her weight around, and the next thing I know, I'm out of a job. Logan too. She wasn't even involved, but she got fired just for sticking up for me. And, it's not so easy looking for another job when you're on probation."

"Or when you're a recovering drug addict." Hayden murmured, continuing to stare a spot on the floor.

Kreese raised an eyebrow, his lips curling slightly. "Do you feel sorry for yourselves?"

The question caught the two of guard, glancing at one another as they were both unsure how to answer such a simple question.

"When something bad happens, you have two choices. You let it tear you down or you let it build you up. Sometimes a step backwards... opens a new path forward." He looked between the two girls. "Now, what happened."

"She threatened me. Told me I'd end up in juvie. Like it wasn't bad enough that she got my sister fired, now she's trying to tear me down too. My sister had a hard time finding one job, and this was finally something stable for her. And LaRusso came and ruined it for her. Now she can't pay her bills for the rest of the month."

Her voice wavered slightly at the end, and she bit the inside of her cheek to steady herself.

Tory scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. "It's always the same with them. The LaRussos think they're untouchable, that they can mess with us however they want and we're just supposed to take it."

Hayden stayed silent, but her expression said enough. She wasn't just angry; she was hurt.

Kreese leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. His voice was low, almost like a growl. "Let me make one thing clear. The world's full of people like the LaRussos. They'll kick you when you're down and smile while they do it. But they only have power if you let them. You don't let them win. Not now. Not ever."

Hayden's fists tightened, and she gave a small nod, though her face was still drawn.

"I don't care how personal it is," Kreese continued, his gaze boring into both of them. "You focus. You fight. And you don't let them see you break. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sensei," Tory said immediately.

Hayden hesitated, her jaw clenching. But finally, she gave a curt nod. "Yes, sensei."

Kreese leaned back again, satisfied. "Good. Now get back out there. And don't make me drag you in here again."

Hayden turned and walked out without another word, her emotions swirling but buried deep beneath her stoic mask. Tory lingered for a moment, glancing at Kreese before following her out.

As they stepped back into the dojo, Tory nudged Hayden lightly. "You okay?"

Hayden didn't look at her. "I'm fine," she said, her voice flat. But the look in her eyes said otherwise.

—

The dojo was quiet now, the only sounds coming from the faint hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant shuffle of footsteps from others heading out.

Hayden stayed behind, leaning against the wall near the punching bags, wrapping her fists with wrist wrap. She looked out at the empty mats, her expression unreadable, though the tension in her jaw betrayed her.

Robby lingered by the door, watching her from across the room. He'd noticed her tension during practice, the way her punches were sharper, more aggressive, but lacked their usual precision.

It was unlike her, and it had gnawed at him all session.

He sighed softly before walking over, stopping a few feet away from her. "Hey." His voice was low, careful.

Hayden didn't respond right away, her gaze still fixed ahead. When she finally looked at him, her eyes were guarded, as if she'd built a wall he wasn't sure how to scale. "What?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Robby didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned against the wall beside her, his shoulder brushing hers lightly. "You've been off all day. What's going on?"

"It's nothing," she said quickly, her tone clipped. She looked away, her fingers tightening on her arms.

Robby turned to face her fully, tilting his head as he studied her. "It's not nothing," he said softly. "You don't have to tell me, but... I'm not going anywhere if you want to talk about it."

Something about his tone, the way it wasn't pushy or demanding, made her shoulders sag just a little. She let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "It's stupid."

"Doesn't seem stupid if it's got you like this," he countered, his voice warm but steady.

Hayden hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue but refusing to spill out. She glanced at him, her guard cracking just slightly under his gaze. "Amanda LaRusso," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Robby's brow furrowed. "What about her?"

"She got my sister and Tory fired," Hayden said, her voice flat but laced with an edge of anger and hurt. "Walked into their job, caused a scene, and now they're both out. And on top of that, she threatened me. Said I'd end up in juvie."

Robby's jaw tightened, his expression darkening. "She said that to you?"

Hayden gave a stiff nod, her gaze hardening again. "Yeah. Like I'm just some delinquent she's been waiting to lock up." She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "She used to be nice to me, you know? Like... she actually cared. And now? She looks at me like I'm nothing."

Her words came faster now, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "But it's not just me. Logan— she's been trying so damn hard. She's a recovering addict. It took her a year to find a stable job and actually keep it. It took LaRusso one day to ruin it."

The bitterness in her voice was sharp enough to cut through steel, and her chest heaved slightly as the weight of it all poured out. "Logan doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve to feel like she's failing all over again. I just—" Hayden's voice cracked, and she looked away, her fists clenching. "I just wanted to see her get her life together. To have something to hold onto. And now she's back to square one."

Robby stayed quiet for a moment, his chest tightening at the raw vulnerability in her voice, even as she tried to hide it behind her anger. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers before taking it gently.

"You're not nothing, Hayden," he said firmly, his voice soft but steady. "And neither is Logan. I know this sucks. I know it feels unfair, because it is. But you're not alone in this. You've got Logan. Tory. Me." His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a small, comforting gesture. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Hayden looked down at their hands, her fingers instinctively curling around his. For once, she didn't pull away. She let the warmth of his touch anchor her, though she still struggled to meet his gaze.

"She deserves better," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "She deserves a chance."

"And she'll get it," Robby assured her, his tone full of quiet determination. "Because she's got you looking out for her. And you're not going to let her fall. I know you won't."

Her eyes finally met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them. The weight in her chest didn't disappear, but it eased just a little, enough for her to breathe.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

Robby's lips quirked into a small, genuine smile. "Anytime."

—

Amanda picked up a roll of cheese, squinting at the label before sighing in frustration. It wasn't the kind she wanted. "Excuse me, do you have any Klare Melk truffle Gouda?" she asked the cashier.

"Let me check the back." He nodded and disappeared into the storage room.

Amanda muttered under her breath as she examined the cheese, but it slipped through her fingers, rolling onto the floor. "Oh, damn it," she mumbled, watching as it tumbled away.

A polished black shoe stopped it. She looked up to see none other than John Kreese bending down and picking it up. His trademark smirk spread across his face as he held the cheese up. "Butterfingers, huh?"

Amanda's stomach tightened. Her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's Honeycrisp season," he replied casually. "This store has the best produce in the Valley. Figured I'd treat myself."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Don't you need to be a legally mandated distance away from me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Other way around, technically. You're the one in violation."

Amanda took a step closer, her patience thinning. "I know about the deal you struck with my husband and Johnny. And I just want you to know, Kreese, whatever happens at that tournament," she leaned in, her voice dropping to a cold, venomous whisper, "I will make sure you lose."

She turned to leave, but his next words froze her in her tracks.

"Is that why you're sabotaging my students?"

She whipped back around. "I wasn't trying to get Hayden's sister or Tory fired," she shot back defensively. "But those girls are asking for trouble. They broke into my house. They attacked my daughter." Her voice rose, her anger bubbling to the surface. "Sam is going to have scars for the rest of her life because of them."

Kreese didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, his tone eerily calm. "I respect you for defending your daughter. I think that's what all mothers should do."

She blinked, surprised at the shift in his tone.

"Unfortunately, Tory and Hayden don't have mothers. At least not in the way your daughter does. Tory's mother is too sick to defend her. And Hayden's mom's far too busy working every hour of the day to even know what's going on in her life."

Amanda stared at him, her expression faltering for a moment.

"Tory has to keep the lights on. She has to pay the bills because no one else will. She has a sick mother at home and a little brother to feed. Hayden?" Kreese shook his head, his voice dropping.

"Her sister is a recovering addict. Do you know what it took for her to even get that job you just cost her? Hayden worked herself into the ground to make sure her sister could stay clean and build something stable. That job was the only thing her sister had—something she was proud of."

Amanda's breath hitched slightly, her gaze softening.

"And Hayden's had to deal with it all. The drugs. The fallout. The recovery. All of it." Kreese leaned in, his voice lowering. "Do you know what it's like for a kid to take on all that responsibility? To be both the provider and the protector?"

"I didn't know that," Amanda muttered, the guilt already settling in her chest.

"Well, now you do," he replied sharply. "So maybe, just maybe, you'll think twice before meddling in their lives again. Because if you don't?" He leaned back, his smirk returning. "You'll be dealing with me. And you won't like how that ends."

Before Amanda could respond, the cashier reappeared, holding up a small block of cheese. "Mrs. LaRusso, found that Gouda for you. Last one, too. Must be your lucky day."

Amanda forced a smile, taking it with trembling fingers. "Thank you," she murmured.

As the cashier walked off, Kreese plucked a nearby apple from the display and took a bite, savoring it with an exaggerated hum. "Sweet," he commented, holding it up like a toast before turning to leave.

He paused at the exit, glancing back one last time. "Remember, Amanda," he said, his voice sharp yet deliberate, "not all kids are as lucky as yours."

With that, he strode out of the store, leaving Amanda standing frozen in the aisle.

She stared down at the cheese in her hands, the guilt spreading through her like wildfire.

How could she have cared for Hayden, welcomed her into her home, and still been so blind to what the girl had been enduring?

—

Hayden leaned against the counter, gripping her red marker tightly.

Her eyes ran up and down the newspaper in her hand, reading some of the descriptions for the jobs postings. She circled the ones that Logan could apply to and realistically get hired, put a question mark on some that could potentially hire her, and an X on the ones that she didn't see happening.

She was being as realistic as possible.

The knock on her door made her pause, and she wondered if it was Logan herself coming to check up on her like she'd been doing the past couple of days.

She opened the door, her eyes immediately dropping to the two bags full of fruits, vegetables, chips, and other self-indulgent snacks.

Hayden tilted her head, crouching down to look at the bag and see if there were a note or something. There wasn't.

But as Hayden's jaw tightened and her fists turned white, realization hit her.

She didn't touch the bags of groceries, didn't even pick them up and put them inside. Just shut the door on them loudly.

She knew exactly who left them there.

—

She didn't waste any time the next day.

It was only then did she pick the groceries up, and soon storm into LaRusso's Auto, spotting Amanda speaking with Anoush.

Like a bull who'd seen red, she beelined it, dropping the bags on the floor in between them. "What the hell do you think you're doing leaving this shit on my doorstep? You think I need— want your handouts?"

The idea that she was seen as someone who needed to be taken care of made Hayden feel weak. Fragile and dependent. Two things she'd worked all her life to stray away from.

So, when Amanda decided to leave groceries at her door, it made Hayden feel small and childlike, even if that wasn't her intention. Hayden was too angry to see anything further than that.

"I— I just wanted to make sure you had enough food." Amanda spoke softly, brows knitted together in concern.

Hayden hated the way she looked at her. Like she was someone to save. Someone to be pitied and analyzed. Someone who needed fixing.

It only made her angrier. It was building up inside of her, ready to blow.

"What, so I can be well fed before I end up in prison? That's what you said, right? Where I'll end up?" She scoffed bitterly, narrowing her eyes.

"Look, why don't we go talk in my office?" Amanda spoke quietly after realizing the attention the scene was gaining, some hearing Hayden's words and sending Amanda looks of disgust.

How could she say that to an innocent teen after all?

"Not fun, huh? Being confronted at your job?" Hayden tilted her head slowly, feeling her fists tighten.

"Okay, why don't we tone things down?" Anoush stepped in. "You know, Ghandi once said that nobody can hurt me without my permission."

Hayden eyed him coldly, "I'm gonna hurt you without your permission. Fuck off."

Anoush's smile dropped, and he took a step backwards. "Why do I step into these karate situations?" He scoffed, walking away.

Amanda held her head in her hands, looking back up at Hayden. "Look, Hayden, I just want this all to be over. I want things to go back to the way they were before. I'm sorry—"

Hayden gave a laugh of disbelief. "You're sorry? Oh, now you're sorry? After you got my sister fired!"

Amanda took a small step backwards, hearing the rise in Hayden's tone. "You LaRusso's are only ever sorry when you have to reap the consequences of your actions. You don't fucking care who you hurt in the process."

"That's not true—"

She took a step closer when Amanda took a step back. "Really? Let's see. Sam kissed my boyfriend. Mr. LaRusso turned Robby in. You got my sister fired and told me I belonged in prison—"

"I didn't mean that—"

"Yeah, you did." Hayden had already convinced herself she did anyway. "But I don't care. I'll prove I'm more than that. When I beat your daughter in the All Valley in front of everyone."

She flickered her gaze down to the groceries, and then back at Amanda. "Thanks for giving me another reason not to hold back. I needed that." She kicked the groceries down, sending the food inside flying out and walked away.

Anoush hesitantly approached. "Didn't she used to work here? She got like.. ten times more intense."

authors note.
this chapter took EMBARRASSINGLY LONG to write i have no idea why SORRY