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THE DOJAND BUZZED WITH SUBDUED ENERGY... Students were lined up, half-heartedly practicing blocks Tory Nichols had painstakingly demonstrated. The blonde walked among them, her sharp gaze dissecting their movements. A frown tugged at her lips as she noticed how clumsy their form was—not because of their lack of skill, but because their focus wasn't on defense. It was always about attack. The very philosophy hammered into them by Cobra Kai: crush the enemy, strike first, strike hard, no mercy. But Tory had learned better.

Defense wasn't weakness. It was survival.

As she paused near one group of students, she couldn't help but overhear the muttered complaints.

"These are just blocks," one boy grumbled.

"Boring," said another, rolling his eyes.

Tory exhaled, annoyed. She turned to face the group, her tone sharp but composed. "You think this is useless? That defense doesn't matter?" Her voice rose slightly, cutting through the low hum of practice. "Let me tell you something. These blocks aren't just random moves. They're precise. Designed to counter specific attacks. If you're too arrogant to see that, you'll pay for it when you're eating dirt in a fight."

Her words hung in the air, but not everyone was convinced. Tory caught sight of Kwon leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unimpressed. He muttered something under his breath, just loud enough for her to catch.

"Stupid is what these are..."

Tory's head snapped in his direction, her jaw tightening. Typical Kwon. Always cocky, always craving action from what she'd seen during training the past week. He had raw talent, sure, but his attitude grated on her nerves. She wasn't about to let him derail her lesson.

"Alright, Kwon," she called out, stepping toward him. The entire room quieted, heads turning. "Since you think this is so stupid, let's see what you've got."

Kwon straightened, his signature smirk creeping onto his face. "What do you want me to do? Punch someone?"

"No," Tory shot back, her tone firm. "Wax on, wax off."

The smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Tory replied, planting herself in front of him. "You're going to block. I'm going to throw punches. Let's see if you can keep up."

The room was dead silent now, all eyes on them. Kwon hesitated for a split second, then shrugged, raising his hands. "Fine. Let's do this."

Tory didn't waste any time. She launched a quick jab at his left side. Kwon's arm moved instinctively—wax on. The punch glanced off harmlessly. Tory followed with a sharp right hook—wax off. Again, the boy deflected it. Her attacks came faster, more deliberate, each one met with the fluid circular motion of the technique.

Kwon's face shifted from smug to focused, his brow furrowing as he realized the rhythm of her attacks. The technique worked. It wasn't flashy or aggressive, but it was effective. For the first time, Kwon's usual bravado dimmed, replaced by grudging understanding.

Tory stepped back, lowering her fists. "See?" she said, her voice calm but firm. "Defense isn't about looking cool. It's about staying alive. Your offense is great, but it won't mean anything if you're on the ground because you couldn't block a hit."

Kwon didn't say anything, but the slight nod he gave was enough. It was progress, however small.

Before Tory could turn back to the rest of the class, a voice cut through the moment.

"Defense is triggered," y/n said, her tone sharp, almost dismissive. "Offense has the upper edge. If you're waiting for someone to attack, you're already at a disadvantage."

The air in the room shifted. All eyes moved to the captain, who was leaning casually against the far wall, her arms crossed. Her words were directed at Tory, but her gaze flickered briefly to Kwon.

Tory narrowed her eyes, stepping toward her. "Defense isn't about waiting. It's about strategy. You wouldn't last five seconds without it."

Y/n pushed off the wall, her stance casual but her tone laced with defiance. "Maybe. But I'd rather control the fight than let someone else dictate it. Reacting means you're already losing."

Tory's lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "This isn't about you or your philosophy, y/n. It's about the team. They need balance—offense and defense."

"Balance?" The girl scoffed, taking a step closer. Her voice dropped, her words dripping with challenge. "Don't preach balance when you're just trying to prove you're right. You of all people should know how effective balance really is."

The tension crackled like a live wire. Kwon glanced between the two girls, his expression unreadable, though the slight tightening of his jaw didn't go unnoticed.

Tory's fists clenched, but she forced herself to stay calm. "This isn't about me," she said through gritted teeth. "It's about making the team better."

"Sure," y/n said, her voice quieter now, but no less biting. "Or maybe you just don't like it when someone disagrees with you."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, no one moved. Tory's eyes locked with y/n's, the unspoken tension between them bubbling to the surface. Kwon shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence noticeably absent as he watched the standoff.

The air in the gym hung heavy with tension, the kind that had everyone's movements slowing, eyes flickering nervously between y/n and Tory. 

Y/n's challenge had thrown fuel on a fire that had been smoldering since the moment they locked eyes. Tory wasn't about to back down—she never did.

A sly smile tugged at her lips as she tilted her head, her voice cutting through the uneasy silence. "Alright, y/n. Since you're so confident in your offense, let's see how well you can defend. Paint the fence."

The dare was subtle, but the weight behind it wasn't lost on anyone. Kwon's brows furrowed, and a couple of the students exchanged uneasy glances. The underlying friction between the girls wasn't just palpable—it was electrifying.

Y/n narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she stepped forward. Her stance was ready, steady. "Fine," she replied, her voice calm but icy.

Tory raised her fists, circling the girl. Her movements were slow, deliberate, feigning an attack. y/n's arms lifted into position, her body tense as she anticipated the punch.

Then, Tory struck.

Except it wasn't with her fists.

Instead of a punch, Tory dropped low, sweeping her leg in a clean arc. y/n's guard had been up, but her focus had been entirely on her opponent's upper body. Before she could react, the sweep caught her off balance, and she crashed to the mat with a heavy thud.

The boys winced collectively, a sharp intake of breath cutting through the air. Kwon's eyes widened slightly, as he couldn't help but be amused.

Tory straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her hands as she stared down at y/n. "If you'd been paying attention to the other blocks," she said with a taunting smirk, "you could've stopped that. Legs aren't just for kicking, you know."

The words hit Y/N like a slap, stinging not just her pride but something deeper. Her face flushed, and for a split second, a flicker of something raw and unfiltered crossed her expression—anger, humiliation, and a spark of something she hadn't felt in a long time.

She didn't think. She acted.

Y/n's hand shot out, grabbing Tory by the ankle and yanking her down. Tory barely had time to gasp before she hit the mat, and in the blink of an eye, the girl was on her, straddling her torso. The room erupted in startled murmurs, Park and Lee taking an involuntary step back and glancing over at their frigid sensei, silently praying for an intervention.

Kwon's jaw clenched, his body tensing as if he might get involved, but he stayed rooted, his eyes indifferent as ever, fixed on the scene unfolding before him.

Y/n's fist hovered in the air, trembling with the force of her emotions. Her breathing was ragged, her vision narrowing as she stared down at Tory. But before her fist could make contact, a sharp crack rang out.

Kim's cane collided with y/n's hand, deflecting the punch with precise force. The sound echoed in the silence that followed, a reminder of the authority that ruled this space.

"Enough," Sensei snapped, her voice cold and commanding.

Y/n froze, her fist throbbing as her eyes flickered from Tory to Kim. The woman didn't look angry—her expression was unreadable, as always—but there was an edge to her tone that brooked no argument.

Grabbing the girl by the arm, Da-eun hauled her to her feet with an almost effortless strength. "Follow me," she ordered, her voice low but firm.

Y/n hesitated, her body still vibrating with adrenaline, but the sharpness in Kim's gaze left no room for refusal.

The silence in the room was deafening as the girl was led away. The remaining students stood frozen, their eyes wide and faces etched with varying degrees of shock and unease.

Kwon's expression was harder to read. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. He glanced at Tory, still sprawled on the mat, then back at the retreating figure of y/n.

"She lost it," Lee muttered in Korean, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, but did you see how fast she flipped her?" Park whispered.

"This is what happens when you don't treat everybody in the team as one." Yoon lectured sharply. "It always starts with simple disagreements, until bias and prejudice takes over."

Everybody listened to his warning almost obediently this time. Without another word, he walked up to the girl and helped her up. "Continue lesson."

As Tory allowed herself up from the mat with the boy's aid, she brushed her hair out of her face, she catching Kwon's face. For a moment, their eyes met, and there was an unspoken agreement between them: y/n, at the end of the day, was still her old, unpredictable-self... A dormant timebomb they couldn't risk triggering.

"Enough gawking... show me 'sand the floor' now." Tory commanded, almost begrudgingly, before turning away.

At the back of the gym, however, where Kim had dragged her distracted student... the faint hum of chatter from the others grew quieter and quieter until it was swallowed entirely by the cold silence that lingered in the dimly lit space. 

Letting go of the girl's arm, Da-eun crossed hers over her chest and turned to face her, her dark eyes sharp and probing. "What exactly is your problem with Nichols?" she asked, her tone as calm as it was cutting. "And don't tell me there isn't one. That little display out there said otherwise."

Y/n rubbed her arm where the older woman's hand had been, avoiding her gaze. "There's no problem," she muttered, her voice low and defensive. "I just don't like being... humiliated, I guess."

Kim raised a single brow, unimpressed. "Don't insult my intelligence, l/n. You don't lash out like that over a sweep or a taunt no matter how humiliating. I'm aware there's history between you two. So, tell me—what is it?"

Y/n's lips pursed, her pulse still pounding from the confrontation. She wanted to brush it off, deny it, but under her sensei's scrutinizing gaze, every excuse she could think of felt flimsy.

"It's nothing," y/n said flatly, crossing her arms. "It's old news."

Kim's eyes narrowed, her voice dipping lower, more dangerous. "Old news doesn't make someone explode in the middle of a lesson. You're not walking out of here until I get the truth."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. y/n exhaled sharply, looking away. "Fine," she said, her voice edged with frustration. "We used to be friends. Before I moved to Seoul. That's it."

Kim's silence was unnerving, but the girl could feel her studying her, piecing things together like a puzzle. Finally, Kim spoke, her tone laced with quiet authority. "And do you blame her for the move?"

The question hit y/n like a slap. Her head snapped toward Kim, her eyes wide. "What? No. I-I don't..." The words stumbled out of her mouth, but as she said them, something gnawed at her. Did she? She had never consciously blamed Tory for what happened. She had never thought about it like that. But now that Kim had voiced it, the seed of doubt sprouted. Her silence was answer enough.

Kim tilted her head, her sharp gaze softening just slightly. "You do," she said plainly, her words slicing through the girl's defenses. "Even if you don't want to admit it, even if it's buried so deep you barely realize it. A part of you holds her responsible."

Y/n's throat tightened, the sting of truth hitting her harder than she expected. Her mind raced back to that day—the fallout of the school fight, Miguel's injury, the chaos that followed. Tory had been part of all of it, and though y/n had tried to push the blame aside, to move forward, the scars were still there.

Kim stepped closer, her voice quieter now but no less firm. "Listen to me, l/n," she said, her tone taking on a rare, maternal edge. "Strength isn't just about winning fights or holding grudges. It's about knowing when to let go. You can't carry the weight of the past forever—it'll crush you. And blaming your friend, whether you realize it or not, is just another way to keep yourself stuck."

Y/n clenched her fists at her sides, the anger, guilt, and confusion swirling inside her like a storm. "It's not that easy," she said through gritted teeth. "You don't understand—"

"I understand more than you think," Kim interrupted, her voice sharp but not unkind. "Do you think I've never had to face the past? Never had to make peace with things I couldn't control? Sometimes, taking a step backward doesn't mean failure. It means finding a new path forward."

Y/n blinked, the weight of Kim's words settling heavily on her. There was something raw and real in her voice, something that made the girl realize this wasn't just another lecture. It was advice, genuine and rare.

The woman stepped back, her arms dropping to her sides. "Forgiveness isn't weakness, y/n/n. It's freedom. You don't have to forget what happened. But if you let it define you, you'll never grow. And whether you like it or not, that girl is a part of your story. What you do with that is up to you now."

Y/n looked away, her chest tight. The anger that had burned so brightly earlier now felt hollow, replaced by something heavier—reflection. She didn't respond, didn't know how to. But for the first time in a long time, she let herself think about what it would mean to stop running from the past.

Kim studied her for a moment longer before turning toward the door. "You're a strong young lady, y/n," she said over her shoulder. "But strength without direction is just chaos. You are a leader... So start acting like it. And don't make me have this conversation with you again."

With that, sensei walked away, leaving y/n alone in the shadows of the gym. The weight of her words lingered, heavy and unrelenting. y/n's hands fidgeted with the fabric of her very own geum baeji as she leaned against the wall, her mind replaying everything—Tory, the fight, the questions she'd never dared ask herself until now.

And for the first time, y/n wondered if the real fight wasn't with Tory, but with herself.

2.5k words

A/N:

the amount of love for tory in the comments warms my heart to no end. truly, y'all have impeccable taste because queen cobra herself deserves all the hugs and validation! 

that said, with everything our protagonist is dragging around in her emotional baggage carousel, sprinting into tory's arms for a wholesome hallmark moment...? not happening. not yet, anyway.

but don't worry—y/n and tory aren't enemies. they will have their ups and downs, but enemies? nah. that ship's not even in the harbor.

I do recognize that not everyone connects with tory as much as we do, and that's okay. i just want all of my readers to be able to relate to the plot in some way or another, regardless of their feelings for most of the characters, hence the neutrality.

now, on to the part that's blowing my mind—200K reads in just 20 days?? are you kidding me?!

i'm genuinely floored. i'd write a whole novel expressing my gratitude, but my brain's so swamped with plot twists and character arcs that all I can manage is a loud, emotionally charged THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!!! 

you've turned this little fic into something i could've only dreamed of.

quick psa: please take care of yourselves, alright? stay hydrated, catch up on SLEEP (which i realize is a foreign concept for half of you inso-maniacs reading this at 3 AM...), and remember to be kind—to others and yourself.

on that note, let's talk about the plagiarism drama. 

some of you let me know in the comment chain that someone might've been inspired (read: copied) by my work. first off, thanks for having my back—it means the world. that said, i did notice a few harsh comments toward the other writer. 

guys, we don't tear others down here, okay? whether it's original or "borrowed," writing takes guts, and nobody deserves to be shamed for putting their work out there.

constructive criticism? always welcome. brutal honesty? hell yeah, freedom of speech! 

snarky insults..? that's reserved exclusively for our beloved gramps, john kreese :p

i haven't read this alleged copycat fanfic, so i can't really confirm or deny the allegations. however what i can say is that i'm not upset by it at all. at the end of the day, imitation really is the best form of flattery.

i've always been quite secure with my writing, and knowing i've got you guys in my corner makes me feel althemore invincible, and that's something i'm eternally grateful for ^^

thank you for being here. thank you for reading, commenting, sharing, and hyping this story up. thank you for simply existing. you're all the best and just keep being amazing, okay?

have a great day/night/life <3