The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the badminton court where you stood, heart racing with anticipation. The sound of the shuttlecock whizzing through the air punctuated the warm evening, echoing off the high walls of the indoor court. On the opposite side, Mikoto Shiratori, his focused expression framed by dark hair, prepared for the next serve. Every time the two of you stepped onto the court, it felt as if the world faded away, leaving only the thrill of the match and the intensity of the competition.

As you adjusted your grip on your racket, you couldn't help but admire Mikoto’s gaze—sharp and unwavering. His determination was palpable, and it had pushed you to elevate your own game beyond what you thought was possible. The gentle sheen of sweat glistened along his brow, and the light of the setting sun highlighted the muscles in his arms as he prepared to deliver his next shot.

"Deuce," he called out, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His voice was steady, but you could sense the adrenaline coursing through him, just like it was for you. It was a moment where everything was on the line—one point would shift the tide, but only if you could keep your composure under pressure.

With an elegant flick of his wrist, Mikoto launched the shuttlecock into the air with impressive speed. Time slowed as it soared over the net, coming down sharply toward your side of the court. Instinct kicked in, and you maneuvered deftly, body twisting to meet the incoming shuttle. With a precise swing, you sent it flying back over to him, the pace picking up, rallying as if the two of you were locked in a captivating dance.

The two of you exchanged swift shots, each point harder than the last. Every time you scored, his smile would vanish momentarily, replaced by the unwavering look of a fierce competitor. It was a sight that sparked a fierce resolve within you; you wanted to see that playful glimmer return.