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THE DIM LIGHTING OF THE GYM CAST LONG SHADOWS ACROSS THE MATS as the captains' training session got underway. The atmosphere was heavier than usual, charged with the weight of unspoken tension. Kim Da-eun's sharp eyes roamed over the room, her presence as commanding as ever as she barked out orders.

"This is your final test of teamwork," Kim announced, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. "A captain is only as strong as their team, and tonight, we see if your team can make you stronger."

The rest of the students, not selected for the finals, moved in sync to assist their captains. Some held pads for striking drills, others guided warm-ups, and a few prepared blindfolds for reaction training. It was an evening designed to hone every skill to razor-sharp precision.

But y/n didn't buy it.

As she knelt beside Kwon, tightening the wraps around his hands, her mind flickered back to earlier that day...

Y/n had been grabbing her hidden bar of chocolate near the lockers when she heard the low murmur of voices from a shadowed corner of the gym. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the urgency in Sensei Kim's tone caught her attention.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Nichols?" Kim hissed, her arms crossed as she loomed over Tory.

The blonde's shoulders were tense, her head bowed slightly, but Kim's voice was steady as she continued talking. "Zara Malik is tough and agile, but I doubt she's ever had to break rocks with her fists."

"That's not the point," Tory mumbled, her voice almost too soft to hear. "Being captain means putting the team first. That's what she did when she gave this to me. And now..." the girl hesitated, her jaw tightening. "It's time for her to reclaim what she earned."

The rest of the conversation was lost to y/n as someone called her name, catching her snack sneakily upon the bar she claimed was lost, snapping her back to reality... 

But the fragments she'd overheard clung to her thoughts, nagging at her still.

Now, watching Tory across the room, y/n couldn't help but notice how tense she was. Her movements were mechanical, her gaze flickering toward Sensei Kim every few seconds. Something was definitely off.

Meanwhile, Kreese stood at the center of the gym, his voice booming as he delivered one of his trademark speeches.

"Second chances," he began, pacing slowly as his steely eyes scanned the room. "They don't come easy. They don't come fair. You don't get to stand on a podium and ask the universe for another shot. You earn it."

The room was silent, save for the occasional shuffle of feet on the mats or the sharp exhale of a punch landing against a pad. Kreese's voice rose, his tone growing more dramatic with each word.

"Fate doesn't hand you anything. Victory isn't a gift. It's a war. A battle you fight every single day. And only those who are ready to bleed, to sacrifice, to claw their way out of the dirt, will stand victorious."

Y/n exchanged a quick glance with Yoon, who was holding one of Kwon's striking pads. Kreese's speeches were always a mix of inspiring and mildly terrifying, and tonight was no exception.

"And when you step onto that mat," The man continued, his voice dropping to a chilling intensity, "you're not just fighting for yourself. You're fighting for your team, your name, your legacy."

Across the room, the blonde girl flinched.

"Everything you've ever done, everything you've ever fought for, leads to this moment. So ask yourselves: are you ready to give it all? Are you ready to fight like it's your last chance? Because for some of you, it is."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze shifting back to Tory. The unease in her teammate's expression was impossible to ignore.

"Hey," Kwon's voice broke her thoughts. He was smirking as usual, even as he rolled his shoulders in preparation for the next drill. "You okay? You look like you're plotting arson or something."

Y/n forced a smile, shaking her head. "No, just... thinking about how dramatic Gramps gets whenever he's in his war monologue mode. Makes me wonder if he's skipped his meds or takes them at all, really."

Kwon chuckled, glancing over at the sensei. "I mean, he's got a point. You're either ready to fight, or you're not."

The girl didn't respond, her gaze drifting back to Tory. Something was definitely going on, and she intended to find out what.

"We will return home with honor," Kim Da-eun declared soon, her voice as sharp as a blade cutting through the tense air. 

The room was silent once again, all eyes on her as she surveyed the group with an expression of cold authority. Then, with a sharp command in Korean, she motioned for the captains to step forward and prepare.

Y/n found herself directly across from her friend, the space between them charged with an almost palpable tension. Beside them, Yoon stood in front of Kwon, who adjusted his stance with the precision of someone who had practiced it a thousand times.

Kim gave another curt command, and Tory and Kwon moved in unison, launching into the signature Viper Attack—a series of swift, serpentine strikes designed to overwhelm an opponent.

Kwon was fast, his movements fluid as he initiated the attack with a low feint, his body weaving like a predator waiting to strike. His right hand snapped out, a backfist aimed at an imagined opponent's head, immediately followed by a spinning crescent kick that sliced through the air with surgical precision. He pivoted smoothly, his balance unshaken, before dropping into a sweeping leg kick meant to destabilize.

Tory mirrored the movements with equal ferocity, though her execution lacked the sharp confidence that usually defined her style. 

Her strikes were strong—her jab a blur and her hook punch enough to rattle anyone in its path—but there was hesitation in her kicks, a split-second delay that left her timing slightly off.

When they reached the final sequence, both captains twisted into a deadly combination of elbow strikes and a rising knee—an addition Kreese had introduced earlier that day. The move was vicious, designed to finish an opponent decisively, and both executed it with power.

Kim's sharp voice rang out again, and y/n and Yoon stepped forward, lifting wooden boards high into the air—just above their captains' eye levels.

The y/h/c-haired girl held her board steady, her arms taut as she braced for the impact. She could feel the heat of the moment, the unspoken pressure radiating from everyone around her.

Both the captains squared their stances, their eyes locked on the boards. They moved in sync at first, flawlessly blending strength, speed, and agility. Their fists struck with enough force to send echoes reverberating through the gym, and their footwork was precise, calculated, deadly.

But just as the final strike approached—the climactic moment that required all their focus and control—a loud knock echoed from the gym's entrance.

Kim's head snapped toward the door, her sharp features creased with annoyance. She didn't hesitate, striding over to answer it without a word.

The students, however, didn't pause. 

They carried on, as disciplined as ever. Kwon landed his strikes with the same confidence he always exuded, his movements as smooth and deliberate as a panther stalking its prey. But Tory—her performance faltered.

When the time came to deliver the final, decisive attack on the wooden board, Tory launched herself into a spinning kick. But instead of the satisfying crack of wood splitting under her force, there was only an unsettling swish of air.

She missed the target by a good four inches.

The room went deathly quiet.

Y/n felt the board in her hands tremble slightly, her grip loosening in the silence. Yoon shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes darting toward Kim, who was still at the door, talking to someone. Kwon froze mid-stretch, his usually smug expression replaced by his usual annoyance.

Tory stood there, her leg still partially extended from the failed kick. Her face betrayed nothing at first—just the blank mask of someone trying to process what had just happened. But as the silence stretched on, cracks began to show. Her jaw clenched, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, and her eyes burned with frustration and something dangerously close to self-loathing.

No one dared to say a word.

The disappointment in the room was suffocating. It wasn't overt—no one openly frowned or glared—but it was there, in the way the other students avoided looking at her, in the way Yoon tightened his grip on his board as if to distract himself. Even Kwon, usually so quick with a sarcastic remark, stayed silent, his expression carefully neutral.

Tory's shoulders slumped slightly, just enough for y/n to notice. The fire in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of doubt.

She took a step back, lowering her gaze to the floor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to regain her composure, but the tension in her body betrayed her.

Kreese walked toward her with a measured pace, his face carefully neutral, though the defeat in his cold eyes was impossible to miss. He stopped just short of her, folding his arms across his chest like a judge ready to deliver a harsh sentence.

"Nichols... with me," he said softly, his voice low but firm enough to command obedience.

Tory hesitated, her fists clenching at her sides. She stole a glance at y/n, who stood across the room, visibly pissed despite trying to maintain a stoic demeanor. 

Her tight-lipped expression betrayed her irritation as she turned away, moving toward Kwon, who was already lying on the ground preparing to show off with push-ups to distract the rest of the team.

Reluctantly, Tory followed the older sensei to a corner of the gym, her heart pounding. She didn't want to face him, not after what had just happened.

"What's going on with you?" Kreese demanded, his tone sharper now that they were away from the others.

"Sorry, I don't know what's wrong," Tory huffed, running a hand through her messy ponytail. She glanced over her shoulder at y/n again, now perched on Kwon's back as he performed push-ups with theatrical ease. The girl laughed half-heartedly at one of Kwon's quips, but there was an edge to her amusement, as if it was masking deeper frustration.

"I'll get there," The blonde said quickly, her voice hollow. She just wanted to escape Kreese's probing gaze, to avoid the weight of his disappointment.

"When?" Kreese asked bluntly.

"What?" Tory blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness of his question.

"When?" he repeated, his voice cold and cutting.

Tory averted her gaze again, her eyes landing once more on her best friend, who was now teasing Kwon about how many more push-ups he could handle, before he finally threw her off his back, making the others laugh as she glared at him from the floor... Despite the minor comfort their distraction had offered to the rest of the dojang, this sight only deepened the sinking feeling in the blonde's chest.

Kreese scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain. "This isn't just about you, Nichols. This opportunity—this tournament—it's bigger than any one of you. Do you understand that?"

"I know," Tory mumbled, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Do you?" Kreese pressed, stepping closer. "Because right now, it doesn't look like it. The team needs you at your best, not whatever half-hearted version of you showed up today. You're going to have to give your all, whether you like it or not. This is about Cobra Kai. About survival."

Tory flinched at his words, each one hitting like a strike she couldn't block. She already knew this—knew how much the team needed her—but she had no defense for her performance today.

Before she could summon a response, the sound of footsteps echoed through the gym. Both Kreese and Tory turned to see Kim Da-Eun entering the room, her face unreadable as always. Behind her, two members of the council, Gunther and Isadora, followed closely, their expressions stern and formal.

Kim carried a clipboard, and the council members each held a sheet of paper. There was an air of authority about them that silenced the entire gym as they approached.

"She won't have to." The woman said, stopping a few feet away from Kreese and Tory, her sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on y/n, who quickly let go of the struggling Lee she had managed to trap in a chokehold.

Without preamble, Gunther spoke, his tone as powerful and precise as thunder.

"Y/n l/n is going to fight..."

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