Prologue

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11th July 2019
Old Trafford, Manchester
2:00 a.m.

A tall lean figure stood at the stands alone in the dead of the night. The soft winds could be heard whistling as they tried to dry off the tears flowing on the person's cheeks. He was slouched against the bar, with his hands folded and kept on this knees, shaking. His eyes were red and his skin was pale as if he had received the saddest news of his life.

He kept staring ahead, to the centre of the ground like he was watching something; more specifically like he was recalling a memory.

A stupid lbw

A crying best friend

His elder brother leaving the field in tears.

All his fault, all of it.

Beside him, there was a small card on which there was a man in blue with a beard and two little girls. The man was holding the smaller one while the elder one was standing beside him. Together, the two little girls were holding a trophy-like thing with bright smiles on their faces. On top, the words, "The World's best Chachu and Captain" were written. The drawing was as good as a four-year child could make. The faces were not perfect yet the message and emotion were.

The man suddenly let out a sob as he wondered a simple question. Why? Why does it always have to be him? Didn't he deserve happiness? Didn't he deserve some love and respect from his country? Didn't this team deserve it? Then why?

It has been happening for six goddamn years and every time it was his fault. Why couldn't he have played better? If he had, Ro wouldn't be crying right now. If he had, Jaddu and Mahi Bhai wouldn't have to fight to get us closer. If he had, the kids wouldn't have secluded themselves, crying in their respective rooms. He was a failure; failure as a batsman, failure as a captain, failure as a brother.

Virat was lost in his thoughts when someone slumped beside him. The person mumbled something about knowing that he would find him here.

As much as Virat wanted to remain alone and wanted Rohit to simply go away, he didn't have the heart or the words to say it. He knew that today, Rohit was more hurt than him and he didn't want to hurt him further. He had given his everything in this world cup and today had broken them all.

Rohit had locked himself in his room as soon as they reached the hotel and told everyone that he was going to sleep as he knew nobody would disturb him. He lied down on his bed and hugged his pillow hard as the tears tirelessly flowed.

He had scored five centuries in a single world cup and yet when his team needed him the most he had failed. He failed as a batsman. He had given his everything this time, then why? Why was fate so cruel to them? Didn't anyone in this team deserve happiness? Every knockout match since the 2013 Champion's Trophy, has been the same story. Every year, there came a new heartbreak. Rohit sat up and looked around. He needed someone to hold him. He needed someone's presence. The only person who came to his mind was his best friend.

Yes, maybe he would make everything alright.

After what felt like an eternity, he decided to go to Virat. He didn't want to talk to anyone; not even Virat, he just wanted the presence of his best friend beside him. So Rohit gently unlocked his door knowing it was very late and went straight to the stadium. All these years had taught him where Virat would be after such a loss. And his guess was absolutely right when found Virat all alone in the stands. He silently sat down beside him when Virat looked up and offered him a watery smile. He reciprocated it and together they sat in silence. No words were needed as their mere presence was consoling the other.

An hour later, when they started feeling sleepy, Rohit put his head on Virat's shoulder and Virat rested his head on Rohit's. As they were about to enter the world of dreams, Rohit mumbled incoherently, "Virat, you're not a bad captain and I believe in you." Virat heard it and whispered back, "And you're not a bad batsman and I believe in you too."

Then, at the exact same moment, they both whispered, "Together and always."

As cringy as it seems, but at the moment both of them knew what exactly was bothering the other. A connection that had formed between them twelve years ago made them read each other's hearts like an open book.

Nothing was okay, but maybe when time passes, it might become beautiful.

In the morning, as a frantic Mahi Bhai came in search of them and found them sleeping like two baby brothers, resting their heads on each other, he smiled fondly and said, "My kids."

The bond the three of them held was mutual love, trust, and respect and they firmly believed that nothing could come between them.

Oh! How wrong they would be proved!!

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Hello everyone!! I am starting an ICT fanfiction as I have been reading a lot of them lately and I couldn't help but get a few ideas in my head. I must warn you though that it is an emotional story.

Till then,
Mishka☆

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