Rivals on the field, partners in crime, and maybe, just maybe, something more...
Ishan Kishan and Shubman Gill have always been at odds. Their rivalry on the cricket field is legendary-fire and ice, constantly pushing each other to their limits. But...
The practice ground buzzed with focused energy as the Indian Cricket Team prepared for their upcoming match.
The sun was high, casting long shadows as bats swung and balls thudded against gloves and pitches. But among the usual camaraderie, there was an unmistakable tension that hung heavily in the air—especially between Ishan and Shubman.
It had been ten days since they'd last spoken, and neither of them seemed willing to make the first move to break the silence.
The once playful banter between them had disappeared, replaced with a cold distance that was painfully obvious to everyone on the team.
Every time the two were in the same space, an invisible wall seemed to rise between them, and though the rest of the squad had tried to ease the situation, their efforts had been in vain.
Ishan and Shubman were both too stubborn to back down.
The team noticed the awkwardness, exchanging glances, but none dared to interfere directly today.
They had all seen the friction between Ishan and Shubman, but something about this particular morning felt different—like the air itself was heavy with unresolved tension.
Ishan, for his part, was throwing himself into practice with an almost reckless intensity. He'd been on the field for hours, his every move deliberate, his concentration razor-sharp.
(Sharper than Abhi's gaze... Can't stop myself from putting this hereeee... T0T)
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The sting in his hand from a misjudged ball earlier in the week still throbbed, but he ignored it, pushing through the pain. He didn't want anyone to know he'd been hurt—especially not Shubman.
While the others were focused on their drills, Ishan's eyes kept flitting around the field, scanning to make sure no one had noticed his injury.
Everyone seemed too busy. Rohit and Virat were strategizing at the far end, and Mayank and Abhishek were cracking jokes in the middle of the field.
He exhaled, relieved that no one was paying attention.
Or so he thought.
As he stretched his hand, trying to flex the muscles without drawing attention, his gaze casually swept across the field, only to lock eyes with someone standing off to the side—Shubman.
Shubman wasn't practicing. He wasn't joking with the others or lost in thought. He was staring—directly at Ishan.
The intensity of the stare hit Ishan hard. It wasn't just a passing glance; it was a deliberate, calculated look that sent shivers down his spine.
The silence between them stretched, thick and unspoken. Ishan felt trapped under the weight of Shubman's gaze. There was something in his eyes—a flicker of something Ishan couldn't quite place.
