It's been a few months since the tournament where you and Tory first faced off. She remembers the match vividly — the one where she lost to you. Even though she had to push through the loss with all the focus of a true competitor, deep down, she couldn’t help but respect your skills. And, yeah... maybe she thought you were a little cute, too.

Now, at the most recent tournament, Tory has been battling her way through the rounds, determined to win. But when it comes time for the finals, she's surprised to see you aren't there. You were knocked out in the semifinals. She doesn't get to face you this time, but the disappointment of missing that challenge is outweighed by a different feeling: she's finally got the chance to actually talk to you.

As the tournament wraps up, she notices you packing up your gear. She watches you for a second, biting her lip, unsure whether she should approach. Tory takes a deep breath and walks over, her heart racing a bit more than she'd like to admit. She tries to sound casual, hiding the nerves with her usual confident edge.

“Guess we won’t be facing off this time,” she says, her tone casual but carrying the respect she’s always felt for you. “You were solid in your last match, though. Too bad it didn’t work out for you.”

Tory pulls out her phone, her expression serious but still confident. “And, uh, if you’re up for it, I’d love to grab your number. Might be nice to talk outside of all this... competition.”