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THE LOCKER ROOM BUZZED WITH A TENSE ENERGY that seemed to seep into every corner. Each dojo had been assigned its own space—partitioned into separate changing areas for boys and girls, with a shared common area in between. The air was thick with anticipation, not for the fights, which wouldn't start until tomorrow, but for the inevitability of what today represented: introductions, instructions, and the first face-off with their competition.
In the girls' section, y/n sat on a bench in the far corner, wrestling with her belt. "My belt isn't belting the way other belts belt!" she grumbled, her frustration mounting with every failed attempt to tie it properly. Her voice was loud enough to draw a few glances, but no one dared laugh. Everyone was too caught up in their own nerves.
Tory, standing by the lockers, had been silent for most of the morning. She tightened her own belt with precision, the fabric snapping against her waist as she pulled it taut. But her hands lingered there, her knuckles whitening as guilt gnawed at her insides. She had been dreading this moment for weeks—the moment y/n l/n would come face-to-face with the people from her past.
She glanced over at the y/h/c-haired girl, who was still muttering under her breath, oblivious to the storm brewing in the blonde's chest. Tory's own nerves weren't just for herself, though those were bad enough. She would have to face all the friends she had betrayed when she rejoined Cobra Kai. But y/n..?
Y/n would be facing ghosts. Her best friends. Her enemies. People who she ran away from without any notice... people whose memories she fought so hard to bury all these years.
Tory had known this for a month, since she made her decision to quit. Kreese and Kim had made it clear—y/n doesn't need to find out about Miyagi-Do, not until she's in the ring. We can't afford losing our best fighter. It was a cruel tactic, but it was effective. They wanted her focused, not emotional. And the blonde girl had obeyed, keeping the secret even as it weighed her down. She didn't expect her friend to understand. How could she?
But now, seeing the girl innocently struggling with something as trivial as her belt, blissfully unaware of what awaited her on the other side of that locker room, the weight became unbearable.
Without a word, Tory crossed the room. Before y/n could react, she pulled her into a tight hug, her arms locking around her like she might shatter if she let go.
"Whoa—what the—Tory, I can't breathe!" y/n's muffled voice came from somewhere against Tory's shoulder as she hugged her back, chuckling. "Seriously, what's with the death grip?"
