╰┈➤ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬! ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
⭑.ᐟ ˊˎ- In the aftermath of her mother's death, Tory Nichols finds herself at rock bottom, struggling to care for her younger brother and keep her life together...
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꩜ .ᐟ
𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 days had passed since the tension with Sam, and things had slowly started to settle between Tory and Yuko. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the upscale shopping mall they were visiting, casting long shadows across the glossy floor. Tory had been enjoying the time away from drama, the chaos of her life momentarily left behind. Yuko had insisted they take another trip out to relax, her upbeat attitude infectious in a way Tory had not expected.
"Do you need anything else?" Yuko asked, her arms full of bags as she floated through the clothing racks with ease. Tory rolled her eyes, though her lips quirked upward as she glanced at her friend.
"Nah, I'm good for now," Tory replied, casually leaning against a counter in the nearby electronics store. "I don't need all this stuff. I'm just tagging along for the ride."
Yuko smiled, not offended in the least. "You're always so serious, Tory. It's refreshing in its own way." She added as she picked through a rack of leather jackets, "But if you ever want to upgrade your style, I'm your girl."
Tory grunted in response, pushing off the counter to stroll around the store. She wasn't much of a shopper, but it was hard to deny that the distractions were doing her some good. She was still adjusting to the whole "hanging out with a princess" thing, but Yuko had a way of making everything feel easy, even though Tory couldn't help but feel like a bit of an outsider.
Her attention drifted as she wandered past the entrance, and she froze. There, standing just outside the store, was a man who, even from a distance, exuded a kind of dangerous authority. John Kreese.
Tory's stomach twisted, a familiar unease creeping over her. She quickly looked away, trying to ignore the tension building in her chest. She had no intention of interacting with him, not here, not now. But something about the way Kreese stood there, observing people with his cold, calculating gaze, made her feel on edge.
She tried to move deeper into the store, but a voice stopped her in her tracks. "Tory, right?"
Reluctantly, Tory turned around. Kreese was standing a few feet behind her, his posture rigid, as though every movement he made was calculated. The scar on his face seemed more pronounced in the fluorescent lighting, adding to his intimidating presence.
"What do you want?" Tory snapped, instantly defensive. She didn't care that he was standing in a public space—she wasn't about to let him intimidate her again.
Kreese gave a slow smile, his eyes narrowing in a way that made Tory's heart race. "I just wanted to talk. I know we've had our... differences, but I believe we have some common ground."
Tory's mind immediately flashed to the dojo—his words, his manipulation. She clenched her fists, standing taller. "I'm not interested."
He raised his hands, as if in mock surrender. "I get it, you're angry. But you've got potential, Tory. Real potential. I've seen it."
