We entered the court, and the first thing I noticed was the opposite team.
They looked calm. Too calm.
Nonchalant. Serious. Ready.
Rishika's voice trembled beside me.
"Are we really ready to face them?"
That single sentence disturbed me more than the scoreboard ever could.
My mind flooded with worst possibilities—losing, waking up at five every morning, endless training, months under him.
No Shekhar Sir. No friendly guidance.
Just discipline.
The whistle snapped me back to reality.
"Choose your five players," Sir announced.
I heard his voice but didn't react immediately.
Prapti stepped forward, firm as always.
"Naina, Srishti, Shivani, Rishika, and me," she said.
"Diya, Shree, Akriti—you're substitutes."
We took our positions.
The whistle blew.
The match started.
And everything started falling apart.
Our serves lacked strength. Our passes missed timing. We hesitated where the other team didn't. Every rally ended the same way—with the ball touching our court.
At halftime, we gathered near the bench, breathless and shaken.
"What are you guys even doing?" Shree shouted.
"We're losing! Can't you see that?"
Prapti snapped instantly.
"Shouting won't fix anything! At least try to understand the pressure!"
Their voices clashed, sharp and loud.
I stayed silent.
My eyes drifted toward Madhav Sir.
He was watching us—not angry, not disappointed.
Curious.
As if we were an experiment.
For a brief second, his eyes met mine.
He smirked.
Then turned back to his team.
I felt frozen.
We made substitutions. Shree came in. Someone else went out. The whistle blew again.
Nothing changed.
Then—something unexpected happened.
Madhav Sir swapped out their strongest player.
Confusion rippled across both sides of the court.
Why would he do that?
The decision was impossible to understand—but we kept playing.
The last ten minutes arrived quietly.
By then, belief had already left us.
We knew we couldn't win.
Our movements slowed. Our efforts dropped to zero. We stopped fighting the ball—and accepted the loss before the whistle could announce it.
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