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THE GYM WAS EERILY TRANQUIL, empty except for Tory Nichols. She sat cross-legged on the cold floor, her back against the wall, trying to steady her breathing for what she was sure was going to be yet another brutal practice. Her hands trembled slightly, not just from the exhaustion that settled deep into her muscles, but from something heavier—a weight in her chest that wouldn't let up. The ache wasn't new, but it was sharper here in Seoul, where everything seemed colder, harder, and lonelier.

Kim Da-eun's voice echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting like the strikes the blonde had been forced to block earlier.

"I didn't want you here. My students do not want you here."

The words had gutted her when they were first said, and even now, days later, they felt like fresh wounds.

"Everybody in my dojang, including your beloved Sensei, John Kreese, and the two of our captains, has had to earn their spot. You want to fight? Then fight. You want to belong? Then prove that you deserve to be here."

Kim's words had been harsh, but her eyes—those frigid, assessing eyes—were harsher. She had spoken the truth without hesitation, without mercy. And why would she sugarcoat anything? This was Cobra Kai. There was no room for softness, no room for second chances.

Tory clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She hated how much the older woman's words had gotten to her, how exposed they had made her feel. She thought she had left insecurity behind a long time ago... She thought she was past caring what anyone thought. But here, in this foreign country, in this brutal, unforgiving place, she felt like she was thirteen again—an outsider, unwanted and underestimated.

Her new teammates didn't make it easier. They were different from the fighters she'd trained with in the Valley. Harsher. Crueler. Tougher. Every sparring session felt like a war, every mistake punished with ridicule or an icy stare. There was no camaraderie here, no shared laughter or subtle nods of approval. Every one of them seemed like they wanted her to fail, to give up and slink back to The States where she belonged.

She'd overheard them once after practice, speaking in Korean, their laughter sharp and cutting. Tory didn't know what they were saying, but she didn't have to. The glances they threw her way said enough. She was the outsider. The charity case Sensei Kreese had brought along.

And then there was y/n... 

Tory shut her eyes, pressing the heels of her hands against them as if that could block out the memory. Being around the y/h/c-haired again after everything was like reopening an old wound. The tension between them was unbearable, their conversations clipped and laced with unspoken accusations. Every time she saw y/n, she was reminded of the things she'd done, the bridges she'd burned, and the friend she'd lost.

But this wasn't about her. Not entirely.

"You want a spot on the team? You got it. But if you want a spot in their hearts... you must earn it."

Kim's voice resurfaced, and Tory's jaw tightened. Earn it. The phrase sounded like a taunt. What did it even mean to earn a place here? How could she earn the respect of people who seemed determined to hate her?

And yet, deep down, Tory knew what she had to do.

She opened her eyes, staring at the dimly lit gym around her. The Sekai Taikai was less than 72 hours away. She didn't have time to doubt herself, to wallow in self-pity or regret. She had to fight. Harder than ever before. Harder than anyone else in that dojang.

Because that's what she'd always been, wasn't it? A fighter.

She had fought for everything in her life—for her mother's medication, for raising her little brother, for food on the table... for the right to exist in a world that wanted to crush her. This was no different.

Tory's breath hitched as another thought wormed its way into her mind. It wasn't enough to fight for herself. She had to fight for something bigger. She had to fix what she'd broken.

She thought of y/n again, the girl who had once trusted her, who had seen her in her most vulnerable moments and still called her a friend. Tory had ruined that friendship, burned it to the ground...

But maybe—just maybe—she could set things right.

The idea terrified her. It would mean lowering her guard, admitting fault, and risking rejection. But wasn't that what earning it meant?

Tory leaned her head back against the wall, her throat tight and her eyes stinging. She would earn it—their trust, their respect, y/n's forgiveness.

And if it meant betraying Miyagi-Do in the process, then so be it.

Because she was Tory Nichols. And she didn't give up. Not on herself. Not on the people she cared about. And certainly not on Cobra Kai.

The gym thrummed with barely restrained energy as the Cobra Kai team filed in, their arrival marked by the unmistakable snap of their presence. Dressed in gear designed to dominate—sleek black tank tops emblazoned with the cobra emblem and bold snakeskin prints—their appearance screamed intimidation. 

y/n's snakeskin leggings clung to her y/b/t frame with sharp precision, paired with the iconic black tank, while the boys opted for either matching shorts or solid black ones. Lee, ever the showman, had chosen the full snakeskin set in a hapless attempt to impress Mimi, blissfully ignorant of her pathological fear of snakes.

Kwon leaned closer to y/n as they entered, his voice dripping with exasperation. "I'm done explaining jokes to her. Every time, it's like signing up for a three-hour seminar."

"To be fair," The girl quipped without missing a beat, her smirk teasing him, "Diddy memes are kinda offensive with or without context, when taken literally. I mean, the dude was a creep. Worse, actually..."

"And, oh, thanking Beyoncé in front of your super-religious Buddhist grandma? It was... a bold move, to say the least."

Kwon muttered a string of words under his breath that y/n didn't catch, but her amusement only deepened. Around them, the group pulsed with energy—Yoon immersed in his meditative playlist, while Park and Lee had already reignited their usual debate over The Karate Kid.

"I'm serious," Park declared, throwing up his hands. "Cheng's the real hero. Dre Parker was just—what's the word?—a pussy."

"It's Karate Kid, not Kung Fu Kid!" Lee shot back, his face turning red. "The original story is about some American man. The movie is based in China. Get your facts straight!"

Their voices faded into the background as the team collectively froze mid-step. Standing in the center of the gym was what they all collectively called "the new recruit", her sharp gaze carving through the air with blade-like precision. Arms crossed, her posture radiated unflinching authority.

"What are you doing here?" Park demanded, his tone clipped and wary, though not openly hostile.

"She's part of the team," Yoon interjected, his calm voice carrying an edge of finality.

Tory's expression didn't falter. Her reply was steady, devoid of apology. "Sensei Kreese is still jetlagged. I'm here to get you warmed up."

Park scoffed openly. "Oh please- we already have two captains for that."

"And yet," Tory said coolly, "I'm still here."

The tension in the room sharpened like a drawn blade. Kwon stepped forward, his disdain barely masked as he switched to Korean. "You've never been part of this team," he said flatly before shifting to English, his words biting. "You've never beaten anyone on this team. Neither have you ever won a fight. What makes you think you can act like a sensei now?"

Before he could step any closer, y/n yanked the hood of his jacket, pulling him back with a firm grip. "That's enough," she said, her voice low but commanding, her glare locking him in place.

"She doesn't even fight fair," Park muttered darkly.

"Park," Yoon snapped, his typically serene demeanor cracking, his tone sharp. "You too... Shut it."

Lee, ever the peacekeeper, raised an eyebrow. "I think we can see what the newbie has to offer. After all, no one is perfect, right?"

"Speak for yourself," Kwon shot back in stilted English, rolling his bandaged wrist for emphasis. "I take all of you down. Even with Bandage Hand."

"And they'll shatter it to dust if you keep running your mouth," Tory fired back, stepping forward. Her patience was thinning, but her gaze was unwavering. "You think you're invincible? That kind of arrogance will get you killed. I've seen it happen. Don't make me spell it out."

"Oh, you'd know all about it, wouldn't you?" Kwon sneered, his words dripping venom.

"Enough!" y/n's voice cut through the tension like a whip. "She's here because Sensei Kreese and Sensei Kim want her here. Whatever you all think about it doesn't matter. She's part of the team now, and we deal with it."

Tory glanced at at the girl, something flickering in her eyes—gratitude, maybe, but it vanished too quickly to tell. Taking a breath, she addressed the team, her voice sharp with purpose.

"You all think you've got it figured out," she said. "You think Cobra Kai's just offense, no strategy. That we'll overpower anyone who steps in our way. That's the kind of thinking that loses tournaments. You don't crack your enemy's armor by punching blindly. You break it from the inside."

The group shifted uneasily. Even Yoon looked wary.

"I never wanted to join Cobra Kai," Tory admitted, her voice raw but steady. "Not the first time. Not now. But life doesn't care what we want. It shows us who we are and dares us to accept it. And none of you—none—are here because you had a choice. You're here because something broke, and you didn't know how to fix it. Now, it's not about how we started. It's about how we finish."

Her words lingered, a challenge hanging in the silence.

Tory's gaze swept the room, locking briefly on Kwon before settling on y/n, who stood motionless, unaware of the secret Tory carried—that Miyagi-Do was among their competition at the Sekai Taikai. Kreese and Kim's orders were clear: no one was to know until the last moment.

With a sharp exhale, Tory turned back to the group. "Today, we're working on self-defense. Not to protect ourselves, but to dismantle the ones who stand in our way. They think they know us. They think we're predictable. Let's prove them wrong."

Before anyone could respond, the gym doors swung open. Kim Da-eun entered, her presence as commanding as a storm, her gaze sweeping over the team with icy precision.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice cold and deliberate.

As one, the team snapped to attention.

"Yes, Sensei!" 

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