Is This Love? [Shubman Gill x Ishan Kishan]

Chapter Sixteen

When Ishan thought about what it would be like to return to the Indian cricket team, he imagined the team spitting on him and punching him down. Instead, he's greeted with the same respect he's always been greeted with. The atmosphere is often filled with light hearted banter and jokes but deep down he knows that there's an underlying awkwardness. He tries his best to stay in the background of group conversations, he just wants to play cricket and take home the World Cup.

He finds himself sticking to Hardik, sitting next to him on the plane, being roommates, and eating his meals with him. It's just easier because he knows that Hardik is probably the only person who truly feels comfortable sharing a room with him. Even in the locker room, he keeps his head down and gets out of there as fast as he can.

Their first match is a warm-up match against Bangladesh. The game was routine, a chance to shake off the nerves and get into the rhythm of the tournament. However, it was after the match, in the dimly lit locker room, that Rohit approaches Ishan.

"Arre, Ishan," Rohit says, waving him over. "Idhar aao (come here)."

Ishan stuffs his uniform in his locker before jogging over to Rohit who is standing by the doorway, "Jee, bhaiya."

Rohit throws his arm around Ishan's shoulders before leading him down the hallway, "Tu theek ho? (Are you okay?)"

Ishan nods, furrowing his eyebrows, "Yeah, why? Was my performance bad today?"

Rohit shakes his head no before sucking his teeth, his eyes slowly trailing to Ishan's bandaged wrist that was covered strategically by his shirt's sleeve, "If someone says anything to you come to me, okay?"

"Okay, bhai," Ishan nods again, still confused.

Rohit sighs before asking, "What happened there?"

Ishan looks down at his wrist before quickly pulling down his sleeve past his fingers, his heart racing, "Nothing, just a small accident."

Rohit nods, though his tone betrays his actions, "Okay, use skin color bandages, it's less noticeable."

"Okay," Ishan nods, moving over when Rohit lets go of him. He faces Rohit, "Hardik told me what you did for me. Thank–"

Rohit shakes his head, cutting the shorter boy off, "Don't mention it. Just prove me right, okay?"

"Jee, bhaiya," Ishan nods once again, heart pounding in his chest as he watches Rohit walk back to the living room.

He can't let anyone down, not again.

Matches between India and Pakistan are always the most anxiety ridden, for both sides. It's never the players who have any problems with each other, it's always the fans. And both teams know that the other is going to get a lot of shit if they lose.

The stadium is a pot of noise, with fans from both sides cheering passionately. Ishan feels his heart pounding in his chest, this match is going to be high intensity. He knows that every run, every shot, and every catch is going to be scrutinized.

As the match progresses, India's top order struggles against the fierce Pakistani bowling attack. Wickets fall rapidly, with Rohit, Virat, and Surya out with less than 20 runs. After Surya's out, Ishan and Rishabh are batting. Ishan takes a deep breath and says a quick prayer to God before walking to the crease, feeling the weight of the nation's expectations on his shoulders.

Despite the mounting pressure, Ishan plays with a calm determination. He knows that he needs to stay grounded and focused because after him, it's going be all-rounders and bowlers who come up to bat. When Rishabh makes a six, they walk up to each other.