"That's them...the slayers?" A voice muttered, eyes darting nervously between you two.

Okkin expertly maneuvered the shuttle, landing it mere inches from the opposing team. You leaned in, murmuring the next play into his ear as you both prepared for action.

The game progressed rapidly, the tension palpable in the air. Then, the whistle blew, and the referee's voice cut through the din. "Game, 21-2. Team 4 wins."

Cheers erupted in the gymnasium, but beneath the celebration, some were left with a cold sweat. Okkin wore his trademark smirk, victorious as he faced you, his partner in triumph.