Nayif discovered a hazy view hanging before him as his eyelids gently slid up. With bewilderment adhering to his inner self, he got up to sit on the unusual surface. As he tried to get hold of his glasses, a suspicious-looking palm invaded; on its top lied what he was looking for. He grabbed the pair and put them on without a second thought, following which his head moved in a robotic fashion, responding to the curiosity that was pinching his mind. His eyes were captivated at once, but only for as long as it took for him to realize that the piled-up cut scenes in his head were not really the oddment of a ruthless nightmare. His lips parted for a second, awaiting his approval to let out a word or two. He nevertheless swallowed the appeal and looked away.

"See?" Shranav chased away the silence, sensing the sudden storm in the soul present before him. "We can be nice too. Occasionally."

Nayif's soft vision descended to his knees.

Shranav swung around, knowing that he could not really expect a response to the words. Hardly a moment later, he detected a little movement behind him, after which a hand gently landed on his shoulder.

Shranav turned back to face an unusually sober Nayif. "I'm sorry, Shranav," the opener said in a faint tone.

The batsman's eyebrows jumped up at once; they, however, descended back in no time. "For what?" he asked in a rather puzzled voice.

"For being an absolute jerk last night. What you said made much more sense. I was being dumb. I don't know, but... maybe... Mayank indeed tried to save him."

Shranav sighed. "It's alright. I don't blame you either. You see, the guy is crazy. Absolutely crazy. But there's one thing of which I can assure you: he'll never go to that extent. Trust me, he is nowhere near as dangerous as he appears to be. Deep inside, he is just a stupid little kid."

"Well, you certainly know him better than I do."

"Don't give up all hope just yet. When we believe and try at the same time, miracles do happen."

"But I was wondering—" he added in an indecisive tone.

"What changed me overnight?" Nayif cut him off as a fragile smile took over his lips.

The other guy nodded hesitantly. "Something like that, you can say."

Nayif looked down at his fingers, which were engaged in a pointless game. "A nightmare from the past still haunts me. I simply realized that I couldn't be its only victim."

"A past event? Worth sharing with a mean guy?

The smile on Nayif's face grew wider before slowly fading away. "It's about my sister. My baby sister."

"You have one?"

"Had."

Shranav sensed a sudden, strange squeeze inside that led him to push out an immediate response. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Nayif looked rather indifferent to the apology as he carried on. "I was a boy of twelve. She was six. Although we weren't supposed to be playing on the rooftop that was under reconstruction, the afternoon couldn't be more regular for us. Our parents were fast asleep, and we had no reason to worry about the restrictions. It was a fairly warm day, and we were enjoying ourselves. It was her turn to be the thief and my turn to be the cop. Everything was going well until she reached the edge of the roof. It took several moments for me to process that the criminal had managed to get out of my range for good. For a lifetime."

Shranav's lips trembled for a second. "That's... terrible. I could have never guessed you were dealing with something so... awful. You didn't deserve that." He stood still, unsure of how to react, as he watched Nayif wipe away his tears.

"I haven't told the worst part yet."

"There's more to it?"

"Yes. Mom started acting crazy after her death. She thought I was responsible for it. I have killed her child, she used to say. Just a week later, she left me behind with my dad in Melbourne. Forever."

"She died too?"

Nayif shook his head. "Divorce."

"But—"

"Dad supported me. That was his fault."

"I am so sorry, Nayif. It's terrible."

"Things got better when I met her as an adult. We never went back to living together as a family, but I used to talk to her at times before she passed away. I still miss my sister, and it hurts to think that I was blamed for her sad end. Sometimes I wonder if I really... Well, whenever I go back to Melbourne, the pain soars every second."

Sudden rays of curiosity enlightened Shranav's eyes. "I know the question is kind of out of place, and perhaps I shouldn't even be asking, but what brought you back from Australia? Isn't life better there?"

A mysterious grin spread across Nayif's lips. "What makes life better?"

Shranav continued to stare, failing to find a solution to the riddle that stood before him.

"I don't know," Nayif carried on, "but I am happy now. They say that no matter what, you always have a softer spot for anything that has something to do with your mother."

It was Shranav's turn to smile. "I won't be so sure."

"It's strange indeed; I certainly love my father more. He stays with me."

"Really?"

"He wanted to retire to somewhere quiet in Australia, but I said he could live on his own over my dead body. I dragged him to Dhaka. Not that he is unhappy now."

Shranav laughed.

Nayif looked at the door. "Did anyone come?"

"Not really. We are not being missed. As for Mayank, I have a feeling that he will show up on his own. With the kid, of course."

"Hoping can't hurt. I should be going though. Hopefully the place hasn't already been conquered by troublemakers. If I spot any, I'll probably be back."

The farewell was rather brief. A quick exchange of blank looks took place as Sanchit entered the room in the meantime. The silence remained undisturbed.

"Tell me you both have been good boys," the coach said in an exhausted voice. "I can't bear another round of mess already."

"The toad isn't as bad as I thought."

"Well, that's still some improvement."

"And what about you? Please tell me you have good news."

"Your face says that you aren't even expecting to hear one. They are currently planning to safely ship us back to the hotel as soon as possible. That's the best thing I have heard in a while."

Shranav's jaw dropped. "So we are just going to depart without Mayank?"

"Couldn't you find a sillier question to ask?"

"We can't!" The batsman cried.

Sanchit glared at him. "And what if they never find him?"

"How can you even say that?" yelled Shranav, outraged. "He will be back in no time!"

"That's enough! Come back to your senses. Let a few days pass, and they won't even bother."

"If they can't, I will. I will find him myself; you heard that? I know Aanvik will be staying too. And..."

"And what? Ran out of idiots on the team?"

"I guess so. But we'll have one more," he replied in a cold tone. "Waseef. He won't leave his little brother behind. We will go and look for the two ourselves."

A painful squeeze seemed to be on the verge of ruling out the contents of Sanchit's stomach; he trembled with the conflation of rage and a feeling unfathomable. Despite the begging of a ruthless yell for the chance of bursting out, he could only release a mere muttering. "What?"

Shranav smirked. "Well, of course. Unlike you, we possess basic human emotions. Something that a walking lump of flesh will never discover."

"You think you care more than me? You have only lost a friend!" Sanchit bellowed. "I have lost my own—" He looked away hastily, abandoning the sentence.

"Lost what? A donkey that fetched victories and fame for you? We have never meant anything more than that, have we?"

"Get lost. Out of my room. Right now!"

Shranav threw one last malevolent glare at his coach before stomping out of the place. The door regained its previous position with a deafening bang.

The coach clenched his fist as he strived to fight back the tears that threatened to spill out. The battle, however, slipped out of his grip. In no time, he could feel the moistness on his cheeks. Thunderbolts of memories, regrets, and loss struck him at once, stranding him in the depths of a lonely sea of despair.

**********

A young boy sat still on the bed, his cheeks swollen from boredom. He gasped as an eerie howl sneaked into his ears through the window. He did not quite enjoy being left alone at an unknown place on his own, and it had been a whole day. A short prayer escaped his heart as he wishfully placed his pleading eyes on the entrance once more; this time, fortunately, he was not disappointed.

Fayzan observed the door carefully as it opened to reveal a known figure. Although the guy was not particularly admired by him, no possible view could have been more soothing to the kid at that moment. The unfriendly eyes that greeted him could barely extinguish the delight in his mind.

Mayank walked into the room, only to be welcomed by an undesired obstacle that appeared under his foot. "What's this stupid thing doing on the floor?" He growled as he moved away from the toy. "Who put this here?"

"He is not a stupid thing. He is Toby," replied Fayzan, narrowing his eyes. "I put him there. We are not talking."

Mayank raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"He called me a goat for having so many vegetables for dinner." The boy frowned. "That's what they gave me, and I was hungry."

"Silly worm," the all-rounder muttered as he shook his head.

"How was your debut ceremony?"

"My what?"

"Well, whatever robbers call it."

Mayank rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Let me sleep."

"Sleep? Wait, stop!"

"Now what?" The all-rounder shot a tired yet fierce look at the boy.

"I am not sharing the bed with you. No way."

Mayank seemed unbothered as he proceeded toward the bed. "Who asked you to? Go and sleep on the floor, annoying parasite."

Fayzan looked bamboozled. "No!" yelled the boy as he lied down at once to hug the surface of the bed. "It's mine! It's mine!"

The last words struck Mayank like a deafening roar. As he let his astounded vision rest on Fayzan, numbness embraced his limbs. The puzzled boy scanned the all-rounder from top to bottom, unsure of what damage he had caused. Following several moments of utter silence, Mayank backed off without further disobedience. The light was turned off. A sudden sensation of guilt took over the boy's mind as he observed Mayank lying down on the floor, barely a couple of feet away from the bed. The kid struggled to shrug off the feeling while countless thoughts continued to wrestle in his mind, eventually pushing him to a shallow reservoir of dreams.

Despite the long, grueling day, veiling the lifeless eyes proved to be difficult for Mayank. From time to time, sighs continued to escape, refusing to await his approval. The discomfort was held in an embrace by the drizzling sky; the occasional pecks of lightning, along with its wild cry, only led the night to take a massive detour. Mayank's relentless effort to flee reality seemed to pay off after what appeared to be an eternity. As a part of his mind slid into a perplexing cave of thoughts and scenes, he discovered himself amidst a familiar mire.

A desolate place ruled by darkness. A realm assailed by loneliness. A maze with no visible way out.

Mayank kneeled before the grave, the only one in the unending field of agony. He gently placed his palms on top of it.

Total silence prevailed to witness his grief, or so he thought.

A soft whisper. "Hey!"

Mayank got up on his feet and turned around, nearly collapsing to the ground in haste. He desperately scanned the place, trying to locate the speaker.

"I am right behind you!"

"Wh-where—" he muttered. "Where are you?"

"Why are you looking for me over there? I'm here, behind you!"

Mayank turned back once again, only to be greeted by emptiness.

"Come to me," he pleaded. "Come here. Just once, please!"

The surroundings began to fade. A voice, however, spoke again.

"Oye!"

Once the jumble in his head allowed, the all-rounder turned back to confirm the source of the voice. In the darkness, he could only make out a pair of eyes staring in his direction from the top of the bed.

"What's wrong with you, idiot?" Mayank spoke through gritted teeth. "Why are you howling at this ungodly hour?"

"Is it cold down there?"

"What?"

"Are you feeling cold?"

The all-rounder raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," replied the kid. "I am scared."

"Eh?"

"I can't sleep alone unless I'm in my room." The sentence was punctuated by a booming sound of thunder, making Fayzan bury his face in the pillow at once. The scene was familiar to Mayank; Aanvik was not a fan of lightning storms either.

"Shut up and let me sleep, stupid parasite!"

"Come here," said the boy as he revealed his face again. "Or else I'll scream."

Mayank slid his hand to the side pocket of his pant, only to realize that he had left his barrow knife in the bag that was lying at a corner. He discarded the thought of walking all the way to fetch his weapon, knowing that the labor was not worth it. His idea of a satisfying murder did not revolve around killing in the heat of a moment.

The kid shifted himself to the other side as he observed the guy tiredly approaching the bed. Mayank threw himself to the surface with his back turned to the kid.

"Stay a foot apart!" commanded Fayzan, piling up all the boldness he could find. "Don't dare to come near me."

Mayank rolled his eyes. "One more word, and I'll throw you out of the window, got me?"

Fayzan fell silent at once. Availing of the chance, he projected his tongue at the guy before pulling it back to its place in a second. He locked his eyes on Mayank as a weird sensation began to tickle his mind, refusing to allow the lids to block his vision. The acrimony seemed to absquatulate as the boy's eyes shimmered from gratitude and relief, letting him fall asleep in peace.