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Y/N L/N'S GUT WRENCHED as the world seemed to tilt dangerously out of balance. For a moment, she was sure she'd misheard. But then her eyes locked onto the girl standing in front of her, and the truth slammed into her like a punch to the face.
Tory... with a 'y'.
The name reverberated in her mind, drowning out the noise of the dojang, Kreese's speech, and even her own frantic heartbeat. It was impossible. Unreal. And yet, there she was—Tory, the girl y/n had once trusted, once defended, once run away from.
Her heart thudded against her ribs like it was trying to escape. The air felt too heavy, her breaths too shallow. Memories she had spent two years burying clawed their way to the surface: Tory's sharp voice echoing in the halls during the school fight, the blur of fists flying, Miguel lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. And before that, the night of the party—the blonde pulling her away, saving her, showing her a side of herself no one else had ever seen.
She blinked rapidly, her vision swimming. The icy glare Tory now wore was nothing new, but it felt different. Harsher. More calculated. y/n's stomach twisted painfully as she forced herself to stay rooted in place, even though every instinct screamed at her to run. Don't let her see you break. Don't let her know the past still has that power over you.
Tory, on the other hand, stood motionless, her face unreadable. She was good at this—masking whatever storm was brewing inside. Her shoulders were squared, her chin lifted, her body radiating defiance. But deep down, beneath the layers of anger and determination, she felt the faintest crack in her armor.
She hadn't expected this.
Two years. Two years of wondering what had happened to the y/h/c-haired girl after she vanished, leaving nothing but silence in her wake. Two years of trying to forget that night at the party and the look in y/n's eyes when she had stood beside her during the fight. Two years of building walls around herself, of learning not to care about people who didn't stay.
And yet, seeing y/n here—alive, present, and yet so different—sent a jolt through her. Tory's jaw tightened as she fought the urge to speak. What would she even say? Where have you been? Why did you leave? She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, the only thing keeping her from unraveling.
Kwon and Yoon stood to the side, watching the tension unfold with growing curiosity.
With his arms crossed and eyebrows raised, the boy studied y/n. Her face had gone pale, her hands trembling ever so slightly. He followed her gaze, landing on the new recruit. His lips curled into a smirk.
