Alan scraped his shoes against the rough pitch and tapped his bat once, looking up. His grip felt damp. The cheers around him sounded distant, almost submerged.
Now that he was truly on the field again, it felt like he had finally realized what returning meant after so long. The thumping of his heartbeat echoed in his ears.
That excitement—the thrill—it was seeping back into his soul. He wasn't watching from the sidelines anymore. He wasn't guiding from the pavilion. He was here, on the field, ready to pour everything from all those years out.
The first ball of the fifth over, Milan stepped onto the popping crease and released the ball, "Gravity Dip."
The crowd erupted.
Alan knew that psychological trick well. Either you play the first ball, or you're forced to leave the pitch after that. He narrowed his gaze, tracking the trajectory. The ball dipped sharply mid-air, targeting his feet.
"An Inswinging yorker." Alan read it instantly. He lowered his bat in front of his feet and guided it away into the gap between mid-cover and point, pushing for a single.
"OH!!" the crowd groaned in disappointment.
Kirill collected the ball and threw it back to Milan.
At the non-striker's end, Alan raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly from the impact. Not only was it an Inswinging yorker, it was also heavy. For a moment, it felt like he was facing Zachariah himself. He flexed his hand, opening and closing his fist, then shifted his gaze toward Adam at the crease.
Adam rolled his shoulders, tapped his bat, and looked around the ground.
Milan began his run-up again. The release was even faster this time. So sharp that even Alan, watching from the other end, felt a brief shock. Like a wind compressed into a bullet, it tore through the air toward Adam's feet.
"No… it's too fast to hit direct—" Alan's thought broke mid-way.
Before the ball could even reach the ground, Adam was already moving. Two steps forward, the bat rising mid-air and with a grin stretched across his face, full of unshakable thrill, "Super-Fast Tornado Smash!! Off you go!!"
CRACK.
The bat met the ball cleanly, redirecting all its force toward the leg side. Cheers then took over the entire crowd.
"One bounce, four! Another boundary for Karachi Kings! What a risk taken by Adam Elamin—and with risk comes reward!" Wasim's voice boomed through the commentary box.
Alan exhaled a small smile as Adam turned and waved at him with pure excitement. "Well, there was nothing to worry about," he thought, returning the gesture.
Adam had been refining his batting posture and overall game through constant practice whether with Nidou or the high schoolers. His ability to take risks, read variations, and predicting outcomes from those variations had improved noticeably. His progress was undeniable.
Tristan, who had been unusually silent ever since Alan stepped onto the ground, seemed to observe every single movement like a hawk yet the smile on his face never once dimmed.
Hira glanced at the almost unreadable youth beside him. The twirling of his umbrella had stopped; his grip had tightened around the handle. Just from his expression, it felt as if he had already calculated countless outcomes of how the next ball would end. He surely was a strange person. That much, she was certain of.
Suddenly, faint splashes, tiny droplets of water, began to fall onto Tristan's transparent umbrella, creating soft "plop-plop" sounds. Tristan blinked and looked up at the clear canopy above him. His grin deepened.
Within moments, after the third ball had been played, the drizzle grew steadier, the droplets multiplying into a visible curtain of rain tapping against the transparent shield.
"H-huh? Huh?! It's raining? It actually started raining?!" Hira was the first to exclaim, shielding her head with her hands.
And soon after, the startled crowd followed.
"Great… we were only missing that," Erum muttered, her tone as wry as ever.
"Well, the weather forecast did predict it, but I didn't think it would actually be right. Can we count this as progress in our country's weather predictions?" Zain quipped from behind, looking up at the sky.
The moment he did, a loud thunderclap struck—following a blinding white flash across the vast velvet sky. For an instant, it felt as if the black velvet sky had been torn open, spilling light into the world.
"That's bad. That's really, really bad, right?" Feng turned to Xavier and the rest of the middle schoolers. And just as he said it, the rain intensified even more.
"There you go. Did you seriously have to jinx it?!" Heber clicked his tongue.
"OH, come on! It was already raining!" Feng cried.
"Yes, and you saying it just made it pour harder, congratulations." Gabriel rolled his eyes.
"Do you people seriously have a grudge against me or something?! How is that even my fault?" Feng protested, looking even more aggrieved.
"It's not. Look, they're still playing. The match hasn't stopped yet," Elias pointed out. His words made everyone turn their attention back toward the field once more.
Haruf, having refreshed himself, smiled at the middle schoolers, who were watching the field with clear anticipation. His gaze soon shifted toward Rauf's back. The man, their captain, hadn't uttered a single word since Haruf returned.
The others had welcomed him, praised him, questioned him about the delivery that got him out, and showered him with praise disguised as mockery. Well, the last part had mostly been done by the middle schoolers in the friendliest way possible. He didn't mind that at all now. 'Got used to it in a good way' was somewhat the best way to describe it.
Yet, Rauf hadn't even batted an eye. The person wasn't angry, was he? Haruf exhaled, clearly unsettled.
"Big guy, why don't you take a seat here?" Aaron, reading his expression almost immediately, stood up from the seat beside Rauf and headed toward Ren and Haris. The two exchanged glances before quietly making space for him.
Xavier watched the scene for a moment.
It wasn't the first time, but he had noticed that the high schoolers possessed a strangely uncanny ability to understand each other without words. It was as if they could sense the atmosphere around one another and adjust themselves accordingly, without needing questions or explanations. Things would pass between them. Words would be spoken. Gestures would be exchanged. Yet those around them would hardly notice. Their understanding ran that deep. And somehow, that alone was admirable.
"Wondering if there'll be a time when we can do that too?" Apparently stealing the thought right from his head, Helios leaned over and whispered from beside him.
Xavier smiled, "I think we already can, considering you just snatched that thought straight out of my mind."
"Huh? Snatched what? What are you talking about?" A thoroughly confused Azazel turned toward them, apparently getting hooked on their conversation unexpectedly, visible question marks practically floated above his head.
"Sigh~ seeing this case. I presume we still have a long, long way to go in that aspect. What a pity," Helios said with obvious fondness, looking at the bewildered Azazel.
"Haha…" Xavier laughed, leaving Azazel staring at both of them even more confused than before.
At the other side of the pavilion, Haruf offered a small smile as he settled into the seat beside Rauf. For a moment, he wondered how to start the conversation. Rauf always had high expectations of him—that much he never doubted. But...
"Don't waste your thoughts on unnecessary things." A firm voice interrupted his thoughts. "It's a game of gambles. Be prepared for the next time. Don't let simple things outclass you when you can outclass them instead." Just a few words. Just a small piece of advice. Blonde hair framed the calm expression of the person beside him.
Haruf, who hadn't even spoken yet, had received reassurance before asking for it. And, that was what made Rauf their captain. "Yes, boss." Haruf grinned, his confidence returning almost instantly.
Aaron, watching from behind, let out a relieved smile.
"Good for him, isn't it?" Ren whispered.
"Hm." Aaron nodded in agreement.
"Good for him is one thing, but it isn't looking good out there at all," Pierre pointed out, "The rain's getting heavier with every passing moment."
Elias narrowed his gaze and sighed deeply.
Aigou glanced at him before asking carefully, "Are things going to take a turn for the worse?"
Elias offered him an apologetic smile, one that clearly said he couldn't answer.
"Don't beat yourself up over it. We can guess that much ourselves," Aigou replied, trying to reassure him as he rested his head on Elias's shoulder.