Shadows Of The Stumps

The World or Our World?

The elevator doors opened with a dull chime, and Meera and Hardik hurried into the familiar hallway. The atmosphere outside Rahul and Athiya's apartment was heavy before they even reached the door-like grief had leaked into the air.

Athiya was pacing frantically, her hair loose, her eyes swollen red from crying. She froze the second she saw Meera and practically rushed to her, voice breaking, "Meera, he's not opening... he's not even answering Virat bhai's calls. I don't know what to do-he just locked himself in and-"

Meera pulled her into a quick hug, firm, steady, trying to pour calm into her. "Breathe, Athiya. He'll hear us. He has to."

Just then, Shreyas appeared from the corner of the living room, slumping into a chair. He looked like a shadow of himself-hair unkempt, jaw tight, eyes hollow. Two back-to-back IPL seasons, one as champion, the other as runner-up, and still his name hadn't cracked the T20 squad. It showed in his silence, in the way his knee bounced restlessly, in the way he avoided their eyes.

He muttered, "He won't talk to me either. I tried. Knocked for ten minutes." His voice was low, threaded with bitterness and exhaustion. "Feels like... neither of us belong anymore."

Hardik clenched his jaw, torn between wanting to comfort Shreyas and hammering on Rahul's door until it broke. His phone buzzed again in his pocket-a reminder of his own storm-but he ignored it, eyes fixed on the locked door.

Inside the apartment, Sunil quietly emerged from the guest room, lowering his voice as though even sound might disturb the fragile balance. "Eva just fell asleep. Please... no loud noise." He glanced at Athiya, worry lines etched deep on his forehead. "Mana will be here soon. She said she's leaving the NGO right now."

Athiya's hands trembled as she clasped Meera's. "He's not listening to me. Not to bhai, not to anybody... What if-"

Meera cut her off sharply, her soldier's edge showing. "Don't. Don't think like that." Then softer, she pressed Athiya's hand, eyes fierce. "He's Rahul. He won't break that way. Not while he has you. Not while he has us."

She stepped toward the door, knuckles raised, heart thudding. For a moment, she just stood there, forehead resting against the wood, speaking low, steady, like only a sister could.
"Anna... it's me. Open the door, bhai. You can't shut me out too."

Silence. The door remained locked.

Hardik finally stepped forward, his voice firmer, commanding, trying to cut through the wall Rahul had built.
"Rahul. Enough of this. Open the damn door before I break it down."

Still, nothing. Just the suffocating silence of a man refusing the world.

The tension in the living room was knife-sharp when Shreyas suddenly pushed himself up from the couch. His steps were heavy but determined as he walked over to the closed door, each one echoing like a decision he had already made.

He stood there a moment, knuckles grazing the wood, his jaw tight. Then, in a voice that was soft but edged with something raw, he said,

"Rah... it's me. Open the door, bhai. I-I need something for Eva."

For a few seconds, the silence stretched again. Everyone's eyes stayed fixed on that door, breaths caught in their throats. Then, faintly, the click of the lock turned.

The door opened just enough for Shreyas to slip in. Rahul's face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, jaw unshaven-yet as soon as he saw it was only Shreyas, he jerked his chin, ushering him in quickly. Before anyone outside could move, Rahul shut the door again, the lock snapping back into place.

Athiya pressed her fist to her mouth, her chest rising with sharp worry. Hardik muttered under his breath, "At least he let someone in."

Neither spoke for a long while. The muffled hum of voices outside felt distant, like the world they were too tired to belong to.