True strength lies in knowing what matters most. Sometimes, letting go of a victory isn't a defeat at all-because when it's for the people who truly matter, even stepping back feels like a beautiful win.

The next day, after hours of grueling lectures and exhausting lab work, Isha stretched her arms and let out a tired sigh. The heavy clouds from the previous days had fully cleared, and for the first time in a while, she felt like letting loose.

She turned to her best friend as they packed their bags. "Riya, college bus pakadne se pehle chal na thodi der badminton khelte hain?

(Riya, before we catch the college bus, let's play badminton for a few minutes?)"

Riya's eyes lit up instantly. "Haan, chal! Mein jaakar badminton rackets lekar aati hoon, tu ground par place reserve karna warna saare courts fill ho jayenge!" she commanded dynamically, shifting into full execution mode.

("Yes, let's go! I'll go fetch the badminton racquets, you go reserve a spot on the ground otherwise all the courts will get filled!")

Riya sprinted toward the sports room, but the minute she arrived, her eyes narrowed. Standing right there at the equipment counter, holding a pair of premium racquets, was her bitter-sweet rival, Yash.

Riya marched straight up to the counter, her chin held high with profound pride as she snatched the remaining racquets.
Yash looked down at her, a highly skeptical smirk playing on his lips.

"Do you even know how to play?"
Riya didn't just speak; she used her entire face to deliver the retort. She gestured dramatically with her eyes, tilting her head with absolute confidence.

"I even know how to play, and I can even defeat you easily!"
Yash chuckled loudly, thoroughly amused by her confidence.

"Achha? Toh thik hai, match ho jaye!"

("Really? Fine then, let's have a match!")

Riya rolled her eyes, throwing her shoulders back. "Yes, bring it on!"

As they walked toward the court, Yash was silently grinning from ear to ear, an evil, victorious smirk spreading across his face.

He thought to himself, 'Shivansh is an absolute champion at this game. He destroyed me 21-3 yesterday. With him on my team, we are going to obliterate Riya. This is going to be an easy win!'

Down at the sports ground, Isha was waiting near the baseline when Shivansh walked up, his racquet resting casually over his shoulder. The air between them was a little different today-softer, filled with the lingering warmth of yesterday's library sanctuary.

Shivansh looked at her, his voice dropping into a gentle, caring tone. "How are you now, Isha?"
Isha looked up, her expression bright and peaceful. "I am fine. Thanks for your concern, Shivansh."

Before they could exchange another word, Riya and Yash came marching onto the court like two opposing army generals, carrying the gear.

Yash instantly looked at Shivansh, eager to deploy his secret weapon. "Doubles khelenge! Isha aur Riya ek team, aur hum dono ek team ho jayein?" he announced loudly.

("We'll play mixed doubles! Isha and Riya form one team, and the two of us will be on the other team, cool?")

Both Isha and Shivansh nodded in agreement, stepping into their respective positions on the court. The match officially began.

But the moment the shuttlecock crossed the net, Yash's foolproof plan completely dissolved into thin air.

The fierce, remorseless, attack-mode Shivansh from yesterday was completely gone. In his place stood a remarkably gentle, incredibly sweet version of Shivansh who looked like he had forgotten how a racquet worked.

Instead of executing his signature high-velocity jump smashes, Shivansh was gently lofting the shuttlecock into the air, serving up effortless, high-riding clears that were practically custom-made for the girls to hit.

There was zero technique, no proper stance, and absolutely none of the aggressive form that had brutally defeated Yash the day before. He was literally just keeping the rally alive, playing like a total amateur.

Yash's jaw dropped in absolute shock. As the shuttle dropped perfectly in the center of their court for the fourth time because Shivansh didn't even move to clear it, Yash couldn't take it anymore.

"Aree bhai! Kya kar raha hai?!" Yash yelled from the backcourt, swatting his racquet in the air out of sheer frustration.

"Yesterday you were playing like a pro, and today you are giving them easy catches?! Move your feet!"

("Come on, brother! What on earth are you doing?! Yesterday you were playing like Lin Dan, and today you are giving them easy catches?! Move your feet!")

Riya, standing at the opposite net, let out a loud, mocking laugh, thoroughly enjoying Yash's misery. "Aree Yash, tumhari team ka formulation thoda casual hai! Drop shots dekh rahe ho hamare? Accept it, you can't handle our defense!"

("Oh Yash, your team's formulation is a bit too casual! Are you seeing our drop shots? Accept it, you can't handle our defense!")

Shivansh didn't even argue. He just stood near the net, his eyes completely locked onto Isha. Every time Isha hit a successful backhand drive or sprinted to save a point, her face would light up with pure, untamed joy. And Shivansh?

He was completely captivated. He didn't care about the baseline boundaries, the scoreline, or the fact that his teammate was on the verge of a mental breakdown. The entire world around him had blurred out.

Unsurprisingly, with Shivansh actively sabotaging his own side, the girls comfortably secured the match point.
The moment the shuttle hit the ground on Yash's side, sealing their victory, Isha completely lost her composed demeanor.

She squirreled up, jumping up and down on the grass, waving her racquet in the air, and shouting at the top of her lungs, "Yesssss! We won! Hum jeet gaye!"

Shivansh stood completely still on his side of the net, his racquet resting against his leg as a warm, helpless smile spread across his lips. He was just looking at her, his entire face softening as he watched her celebrate, totally unfazed by his own loss.

Yash, who was thoroughly defeated and panting heavily, looked at the scoreline, then looked at Shivansh's deeply enamored expression. He slowly walked up to Shivansh, crossed his arms, and tapped him on the shoulder with his racquet, dropping his voice into a classic, teasing Bollywood tone.

"Aurat ka chakkar, babu bhaiya... aurat ka chakkar!" Yash whispered with a knowing, dramatic grin.

("It's all because of girl, brother... it's all because of girl!")

Shivansh's eyes snapped wide open as reality rushed back in. His cheeks instantly burned with a heavy blush. He quickly cleared his throat, pushing Yash's racquet away.

"Chup baith! (Shut up!) There's nothing like that."

Yash said, "Haa haa agar isha tumhari opponent hai toh kahe ka game next time isha ko tumhare team mein rakhunga tab aayegi teri talent bahar"

(If isha is your opponent then there is no game. Next time isha should be in your team only then your talent comes out)

While yash was talking, Isha came to them.

As they packed up the gear, Riya strutted over to Yash, flipping her hair with peak Class Representative authority.

"Aur batao, Yash ji? Kaisa laga haar kar?

(Tell me more, Mr. Yash? How does it feel to lose?)" she teased mercilessly.

Yash rolled his eyes, adjusting his backpack. "Lucky win tha, okay? Maybe one more match? One-on-one, right now."

Riya gave him a thoroughly smug smirk.

"Aree, mere paas utna faltu time nahi hai! You know I am the CR also, as you know, I have a lot of official duties.
Thank you for the easy game, though!"

("Oh, I don't have that much useless time! You know I am the CR also, as you know, I have a lot of official duties. Thank you for the easy game, though!")

Then yash snagged, "Tum CR ho CM nahi jo itna flex kar rahi ho"

(You are just a CR not CM to flex like this).

With that final parting shot,Riya smirked and grabbed Isha's arm, and the two girls started walking toward the college bus stand.

But as they reached the edge of the ground, Isha suddenly paused. She turned her head back, glancing over her shoulder one last time. Down on the court, Shivansh was already standing there, his head tilted sideways from behind his racquet, his gaze fixed entirely on her departure.

Their eyes met across the distance. A beautiful, lingering smile spread across Isha's face, and seeing it, Shivansh's expression instantly brightened into a matching, warm smile.

The next morning, the campus corridors were buzzing with the usual early-morning rush. Purvi, Isha, and Riya were walking together, chatting animatedly as they headed toward their classroom block.

But as they started stepping down the main concrete staircase, Purvi's foot caught the edge of a step.

"Whoa-!"

With a dramatic gasp, Purvi completely lost her balance and tumbled forward, landing squarely on her bottom at the base of the stairs in a chaotic tangle of limbs and flying notebooks.

Isha and Riya gasped in shock, rushing down the remaining steps to kneel beside her. Both of them quickly gathered her scattered books and helped her sit up.

"Oh my god, Purvi! Are you okay? Zada lagi toh nahi?

(Did you get hurt badly?)" Isha asked, her voice full of genuine concern.

Meanwhile, Riya was standing right next to them, her hand flying straight over her lips. Her eyes were wide, her shoulders shaking violently as she desperately tried to control her explosive facial expressions.

Purvi looked up from the floor, rubbing her aching elbow, and immediately caught sight of Riya's trembling face.

She glared at her, thoroughly exasperated. "Ab has do, meri daayan! Bohot try kar rahi ho na hasi rokne ki? Pata chal raha hai mujhe toh!"

("Just laugh out loud already, you witch! You're trying so hard to suppress your laughter, aren't you? I can clearly tell!")

That was the official green light. Riya completely lost all control, bursting into a loud, echoing roar of laughter that turned heads across the corridor.

"Yaar! Sorry, par tum giri bhi toh itni funny way mein!" Riya cackled, holding her stomach. "Mein bata rahi hoon, jab ek leather ball ground par bounce karta hai na-bilkul waisa hi tha! Boom, bounce!"

("Man! Sorry, but the way you fell was just too funny! I'm telling you, when a leather ball bounces on the ground-it was exactly like that! Boom, bounce!")

Purvi's face turned red as she yelled back, "Chup kar! (Shut up!) Help me stand up at least!"

Riya giggled, pulling her up gently. "Well, jokes apart... har roj thodi practice karte rehna, tum bhi acche se chalna seekh jaogi!

(Well, jokes apart... keep practicing every day, you will eventually learn how to walk properly too!)"

Purvi threw her notebook lightly at Riya's arm. "Bas, shut up!"

However, as Purvi tried to put weight on her right foot, she let out a sharp hiss of pain. Riya's laughter instantly vanished, her expression shifting into one of focused concern as she noticed a visible, swelling moch (sprain) around Purvi's ankle.

Without a word, Riya bolted down the corridor toward the college medical room. A few minutes later, she came running back, holding a fresh tube of pain-relief cream. She knelt down and handed it over to her.

Purvi clutched the tube, a soft, touched smile gracing her lips. "Jitni shaitaan dikhti hain, utni hai nahi tu... thank you," she whispered softly.

("You aren't as much of a devil as you look... thank you")

They managed to help Purvi hobble back to the classroom, seating her comfortably at her usual bench. Within minutes, Akshat walked into the room. The moment his eyes landed on their row, his gaze locked onto Purvi's swollen ankle, and a look of sheer panic washed over his face.

He rushed over in an absolute hurry, kneeling right beside her desk.

"Are you okay, Purvi? What happened?
Doctor ke paas chalein kya? Shall we go to the clinic?" he asked, his voice laced with deep, undeniable worry.

Purvi flushed slightly at his intense reaction, waving her hands.

"I'm fine, Akshat. It's really not a big deal.

Aur waise bhi, hostel paas mein hi toh hai, classes ke baad jakar rest kar lungi.

(And anyway, the hostel is very close by, I'll just go and rest after classes.)"

Riya sat down on the floor, opening the tube. "Let me apply the cream."

But as Riya's fingers accidentally pressed a bit too hard against the swelling, Purvi let out a sharp, painful shout, wincing.

Instantly, Akshat's hands reached out, gently but firmly taking the cream tube right out of Riya's grip. He looked up at Riya, his expression completely serious.

"Riya, let me do it. I have prior experience handling sports injuries and attending to such wounds. I'll be very gentle."

Riya blinked, entirely caught off guard. She slowly tilted her head to look at Purvi. Purvi's cheeks were burning bright pink, but she offered a shy, quiet nod of approval.

Riya smoothly stood up, stepping back and handing the tube entirely over to Akshat. Akshat knelt down meticulously, his touch turning incredibly soft, precise, and careful as he gently rubbed the cooling cream over Purvi's sprained ankle, whispering words of comfort to ease her pain.

Standing a few feet away, Riya slowly tilted her head toward Isha.

The classroom was practically empty, as the rest of the students were outside in the courtyard enjoying the remaining minutes of the morning break.

Just then, Yash and Shivansh strolled through the back door of the room. They stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes landing squarely on the isolated scene of Akshat kneeling devotedly at Purvi's feet, applying the cream while Purvi stared down at him with a thoroughly soft, blushing expression.

Yash's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He slowly leaned sideways toward Shivansh, a massive, teasing grin spreading across his face as he gestured toward the couple.

"LOVE IS IN THE AIR..." Yash whispered melodramatically, practically singing the words under his breath.

Shivansh instantly shot Yash a hard, warning look. Before Yash could utter another syllable and ruin the moment, Shivansh swiftly reached out, planting his open palm firmly over Yash's mouth, physically shutting him up.

He gestured sharply with his head, dragging his gossiping friend toward the back benches in absolute silence.

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