Sir gathered us on the court once everyone had settled in.
"Classes will remain regular," he announced. "Practice will begin every evening."
Then he pointed toward the girls standing across the court.
Another team.
Eight of them.
"There will be two teams," he continued. "And two sets of teachers."
My stomach tightened.
"If your team defeats my team," he said, "you will train under your own school teacher."
Relief flickered—briefly.
"But if you lose," he added calmly, "you will train under me and Shivay Sir."
My friends exchanged nervous looks.
This wasn't a friendly camp anymore.
It was a choice between comfort and control.
And somehow, we already felt like we were losing.
Sir left us with that do-or-die condition. We picked up our bags and returned to our classes, but my mind was stuck on one thought.
What if we lose?
That single question would decide whether the next six months would be memorable… or disturbing.
After classes ended, we went to the room Sir had allotted to us—for the next six months. I stayed silent.
"They're practicing already," Akriti said suddenly. "Shouldn't we do the same?"
That's when Prapti spoke.
"Stop getting nervous, guys," she said confidently. "Why are you so scared of this new teacher? Do you really think our school will lose to him?"
She smirked.
"Our teachers have more experience than his age."
Prapti joked—and we burst into laughter.
Slowly, the tension eased.
That evening passed with jokes, laughter, and forced confidence.
We spent the day in the most unproductive yet memorable way—knowing that tomorrow would decide the fate of our next six months
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