𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

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THE PARTY WAS WELL AND ALIVE WITH ENERGY—thumping music, strobe lights flickering over the crowd, and the faint scent of pumpkin-spiced air mingling with sweat. y/n on the other hand sat stiffly at the bar, her fingers nervously drumming against the base of her soda glass. She stared at the bubbly amber liquid, unsure how long she'd been sitting there beside the blonde.

Tory sulked on the stool, her own drink—a fizzy lemonade—clutched tightly in her hands. For a while, neither said a word. The silence between them was as thick as it had been the day they first crossed paths again in Seoul. Except this time, there was no sparring mat between them, no orders from Kreese or Kim forcing them to engage. It was just them. Two girls with too much history and too many scars.

"So..." Tory started, her tone casual, but the weight of her words was anything but. "You've been here long?"

"I don't understand what that's supposed to mean," y/n replied robotically, her gaze fixed on the condensation sliding down her glass.

Tory rolled her eyes, but did not give up yet, her fingers fidgeting with the straw in her drink. "Seoul's... different from what I expected. Busier. Crowded."

"It's not so bad once you get used to it," the girl said, her voice clipped, still avoiding eye contact.

Small talk. Safe, impersonal, and utterly meaningless. Tory hated it, but she didn't know how to dive into the storm brewing between them just yet. She glanced at Yoon across the room, chatting with some guys by the beer pong table. His words from earlier echoed in her mind: "You have to keep trying with y/n. She's stubborn, but she's not a bad person."

"Y/n," Tory said finally, her voice firmer. "This is weird, isn't it?"

The y/h/c-haired skeleton blinked and finally looked at her, startled by the sudden honesty. "What?"

"Us. Sitting here. Talking like this," Tory continued, gesturing vaguely between them. "I mean, come on. The last time we talked—really talked—you were in my house, freaking out over your parents finding out about that party. And now... here we are. After everything."

Y/n stiffened at the memory. "Yeah. Weird."

Tory let out a bitter laugh, her fingers tightening around her drink. "You don't have to agree so quickly, you know."

Y/n gave her a sidelong glance. "What do you want me to say, Tory? That it's not weird? That it feels normal after—what? Two years? After all that happened?"

𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄, kwon jae-sungWhere stories live. Discover now