Behind the Scenes: World Cup 2023

Con artist

Disclaimer: All credits of me not disliking Ishan Kishan anymore and actually liking him enough to write about him goes to Arathy shubman_writes, (though sassy_reads would claim some of the credit too) and his fielding in the first WC match.

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8th October, after India vs Australia, Chennai

Virat made for Shubman's ward the moment (or a few moments before) the bus stopped outside their hotel. Shubman sat up in a hurry when he saw him, his face breaking into a huge, worshipful smile.

"You were so brilliant, Virat bhaiya, you were so brilliant! No one in the world can play like you. And no one in any universe can chase like you--"

Virat grinned and sat down on the edge on the bed, putting an arm around him. "Thanks, kid--"

"Tell me all about it--"

"First, tell me if there's any update," broke in Virat.

"I'm perfectly fine, now, Virat bhaiya, I'm going to play the next one."

"Yes, but is there any update from the doctor?"

"Why do you need an update from the doctor when you have it from the patient?"

Virat patted his head pacifyingly. "All right, I, er, completely believe the patient's update, but you know, it's rather important..."

Shubman scowled as Virat retracted his arm around him and walked to the door to search for the doctor.

"Don't go, Virat bhaiya," Shubman, who knew the update and didn't like it, pleaded.

"Just a minute, Shubi--"

Eventually, the doctor was found, and he gave Virat the update: the platelets were decreasing at a faster rate than yesterday.

Shubman didn't like the worried sort of frown on Virat's face when he returned.

"So, Shubi, they say the platelets haven't stabilized yet," he said.

"But they will, right?" said Shubman quickly.

"Of course they will--"

"So I can play against Afghanistan, right?"

"Er--" Virat put his arm around Shubman again.

"If I feel all right on Wednesday morning," wheedled Shubman. "I can play then, can't I?"

"Shubi, they don't think it's a good idea for you to travel..."

"Travel...where?"

"To Delhi. Or anywhere."

Shubman was stunned into silence. 

Virat pulled him closer and ruffled his hair. He remembered his first World Cup very well, much around the same age. And he could imagine very well how bummed he'd have been if a stupid illness kept him from playing.

"That's not fair, Virat bhaiya," Shubman cried, when he'd regained his voice. "I can't not travel with the team when I'm part of the squad--"

"It's just for one match, kiddo," said Virat gently. "And it's Afghanistan. You'll get better faster here, if you don't travel, and then you'll join us in Ahmedabad, yeah? Your lucky ground."

"I want to go to Delhi." Shubman pulled away to meet Virat's gaze stubbornly. "I have to go to Delhi, Virat bhaiya."

The day these kids succeeded in turning his hair completely gray wasn't far, thought Virat.