the boundary

The Bonding Begins

The evening air was cool and calm, a stark contrast to the intensity of the past week's training. The glow of the campfire flickered warmly against the faces of the Indian team, casting long shadows as the cricketers sat around, laughing and chatting after a grueling training camp. It was their last night together before a month-long time off their jobs, and for once, they weren't thinking about the next game, the next practice, or the next move.

Shubhman sat with his arms crossed over his knees, his eyes trained on the dancing flames. He wasn't laughing or joining in the playful banter that echoed through the night. Instead, his mind was busy, but this time not with thoughts of Ishan or their awkward, strained relationship over the past few weeks. His thoughts were elsewhere — far from the team, far from the game. Ishan, on the other hand, sat across from him, still within the warm circle of the firelight, but visibly more withdrawn than the rest of the group. His usual bravado and endless jokes were tempered tonight, something unspoken lingering between him and Shubhman. It had been ever since their spat in the bar.

Both of them were too proud to admit it, but the conversation they'd had, fueled by frustration and alcohol, had left a mark. They hadn't spoken properly since, exchanging only brief words on the field and superficial banter in the locker rooms. Tonight, though, things felt different. There was no match to prepare for, no performance pressure hanging over them. There was only the campfire and the quiet that came with it. Ishan glanced at Shubhman through the flickering light. There was something strange about seeing him like this — thoughtful, quiet, almost at peace. He looked softer, and less intimidating than when he was out in the field, scoring runs and soaking up all the praise. And Ishan found himself feeling oddly drawn to that calm energy. He hated admitting it, but there was something about Shubhman he couldn't quite put his finger on. And why did every conversation with Shubhman — even the heated ones — remind him of evenings in Bihar after a light rain? It was an odd sensation, but one that had been creeping up on him ever since their argument. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Peace, maybe. Or something close to it. It was confusing and unsettling, and Ishan hated that he couldn't understand it.

"Hey," Shubhman's voice cut through the haze of Ishan's thoughts.

Ishan blinked and found Shubhman staring directly at him, his eyes bright and warm in the firelight. "You good?"

The question was simple, but the weight behind it was heavier than either of them wanted to admit. Ishan shrugged, averting his gaze. "Yeah. Just... tired."

Shubhman didn't look away. He knew there was more to it than that. Maybe it was the firelight, or the quiet, or the fact that they were far from the pressure of the stadium, but he felt like maybe tonight was the night to talk. Really talk.

"Look, Ishan... about the other night at the bar." Shubhman's voice was low, hesitant but sincere. "I didn't mean what I said like that. I didn't mean to make it seem like you didn't deserve your spot, or that... I don't respect you."

Ishan's chest tightened. He hadn't expected Shubhman to bring it up. He certainly hadn't expected him to be the one to apologize first. "Yeah, well," he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended, "I didn't mean to cuss you out. I was just... pissed."

Shubhman's lips quirked into a slight smile, and for the first time in a while, it wasn't a smirk. It was a real smile. "Yeah, I got that."

For a moment, the two sat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. Then, to Ishan's surprise, Shubhman spoke again, his voice softer this time.

"You know, sometimes it feels like everyone thinks I've got it all together. Like just because I've been getting more chances, I haven't had to work for them. But that's not true. My family... they have these expectations of me. Especially my sister, Shaneel. She's my biggest fan, but sometimes it feels like I'm carrying her hopes along with mine. I don't want to let her down."