It was strange how distance grew.

It grew so fast, with every passing day, it felt a little more impossible to stop it from gobbling up every good thing that existed before.

Over the remaining weeks of IPL, after Rahul had flown to London for rehab and RCB was in the tight race to the playoffs, Virat found it hard even to ask Rahul about his health directly.

'You can go, if you want,' was what played in his ears more distinctly, followed by the memory of Rahul's indifference to whether Virat came late, or didn't come at all, followed by how grown-up Rahul had been acting with him lately, and topped by how they'd been completely unable to talk.

Virat kept asking Rohit for updates instead. Rohit was clearly at his wits' end about the issue, but MI was in the race for the playoffs, too, and he hadn't got round to giving Virat the earful he seemed to be building up.

At present, he was ok giving the updates in a controlled manner.

"You do realize how it seems to Rahuliya, don't you, Virat?" Rohit asked one day.

"Don't call him that," said Virat.

"Because it's reserved for you?"

"No. Just don't."

Rohit cursed under his breath, but when he spoke aloud, he was calm again. "You're avoiding the question. You know how it seems to him? That you can't even take out a bit of time to talk to him?"

"It's not like we're not talking," said Virat stiffly.

"Once a week? Once in two weeks?"

"One and a half, maybe."

"Congrats," said Rohit.

"Thanks," said Virat, acid dripping from his voice, and disconnected the call violently.

___________________

The members of the WTC final squad barely got a week after IPL before they had to fly for London. As it happened, Rahul had returned to India just a couple of days before, so no one got round to meeting him. Perhaps a tiny part of Virat was glad the choice had been taken out of his hands.

If Rahul had been still in London when they reached, he'd have had to undergo another round of agonizing indecision with Rohit breathing down his neck and passing ominous comments about whether he should go to the rehab centre, and if he did, what would he even say?

Then the team got into the zone of training for the final like possessed creatures, and the constant burden on Virat's head finally seemed to lighten a bit.

Not that the training came to much use, because India lost anyway, and the scariest part was how predictable they were becoming when it came to knockout matches with every passing year.

__________________

Rahul called Virat a couple of days after they lost the final. This time the gap after their previous call was even longer than it'd been lately.

"How are you?" Rahul asked.

"Not bad," said Virat. "It's not like we hadn't expected exactly this."

"You're not supposed to talk like that," said Rahul.

"Yeah, well...things are changing..."

"Maybe," said Rahul. "Maybe things aren't meant to stay the same forever."

The undertone in Rahul's voice made Virat feel quite sure he wasn't talking about Virat's self-belief in himself and his team.

"Maybe," Virat said glumly.

He didn't believe it, and yet he did.

Because the 31-year-old man addressing him was KL Rahul, an Indian cricket hero, a husband and an adult, and not Rahuliya, Virat's little brother and "property"...and he had been KL Rahul for quite a while, even if Virat had shut his eyes to it.

He was certainly not his Rahuliya anymore.

And if he could lose Rahuliya, maybe he could lose anyone. Maybe things weren't supposed to be the same forever.

"What are you up to at the NCA?" Virat said to divert his mind from the painful stream of thoughts. "Rohit said the knee's better."

"Yeah, it is," said Rahul. "Still not allowed to play for several weeks. There's a lot of work to go."

"There's a lot of time, too," said Virat. "We have three months."

"Two," corrected Rahul. "Before the Asia Cup. That's not such a lot of time if it takes a month more to start playing."

"But then you'll be back and timing the ball perfectly in no time at all."

The moment he said that, Virat remembered the beginning of IPL 2016, when Rahul had been returning from his first major injury, and very jittery after the long break.

'What are you so scared about? You're timing the ball perfectly!'

'This seems perfect to you?'

'It does to me.'

'Maybe you need glasses...'

'I heard that! No more wisecracks, go bat, Rahuliya. You're the key to our batting order.'

'Our batting order that has you, AB, Gayle and Watson?'

'What did I say about the wisecracks? If I tell you you're the key player, you are the key player. Stop being scared and BAT.'

"To some people without glasses, maybe," said Rahul, which meant he'd been remembering the same incident.

Virat smiled after a long time.

There was so much he wanted to tell Rahul--like how Jassi had hit five consecutive sixes off a very disgruntled Siraj's bowling in the nets the other day and had become a celebrity till it transpired he'd been using an illegally heavy bat, like how Shubman and Ishan had been grounded by Rohit the week before the final because a prank of theirs had nearly injured Axar to being ruled out, like how Vamika had fallen face-down from the swing in the playground and laughed instead of crying which made everyone speculate if she was growing up to be a Ravindra Jadeja, like how Anushka was nearly two months pregnant now, and it had begun to sink in finally, and how both of them wanted a son this time, Vami's little brother--

And yet, every time he started saying any of those, it sounded flat. These were stories he'd had to tell Rahul right then instead of a week later.

A week later, it didn't really seem to matter anymore.

Then they were both silent again, and Virat realized his smile had faded. Soon after, he was hailed by Jinks and Ash to join them for dinner.

"Going for dinner...bye," he said.

"Good night," said Rahul. "Call if you want to talk."

__________________

Whenever they talked afterwards, there would be a lot of awkward pauses, and eventually both of them stopped calling.

They did text occasionally. Never about the meaningful stuff, though.

The conversations would mostly just be a wooden 'how are you?' and 'fine, how are you?' and then peter towards a quick end.

You think that one bond with that one person in your life will stay the same forever, and suddenly one day that person seems miles away, slipping out of grasp, maybe never to return again.

Virat didn't know where either of them had gone wrong. All he knew that Rahul seemed so far away from him, he was scared he'd never make it across.