Aanvik's restless foot continued to tap the teal Aubusson rug as he checked out the wall clock. A frown had made itself comfortable on his face by then. Time had one thing in common with the ball: it often seemed to crawl when he needed it to sprint.

His ears hopped as the doorbell went off. That was it. Aanvik got up at once to rush downstairs before retracing his steps and sinking back to the sofa. The voices from below confirmed that the call was taken care of. The visitor did not keep him waiting for too long.

"Oy," said Shranav as he bolted in and knocked on Aanvik's forehead. "Is your fat brain working? You'll need a cell or two today."

The captain narrowed his eyes. "It better not be one of your stupid conspiracy theories."

Shranav took a seat beside him. "Oh, it is. Except it's not stupid. Or a conspiracy. Or a theory."

"Here, have a look," he added, pulling out an envelope from his pocket. It produced the poem written by Waseef, the one that he discovered the night Nayif and he were walking out of the nasty detention in Sanchit's room.

Confusion seized Aanvik's face as he received the piece of paper.

"Let's be shocked later, boy. There's something important that you need to see."

"You write poems?"

"Idiot, it's not mine."

"Then?"

"The handwriting."

Aanvik observed the writing closely. "I don't recognize it."

"Now have a look at this," said Shranav as he produced another paper.

The captain received it curiously. As he went through its content, his face darkened. "That's the letter—"

"Yes. Now compare the handwriting."

Aanvik looked up a minute later. "They do look similar."

"They are written by the same person," said the batsman. "I am sure."

"Where did this poem come from? I don't get this."

"It was inside Waseef's diary."

"What?" asked a flabbergasted Aanvik.

He received a bold nod in reply.

"You are nuts!"

"I am fine, Aanvik. It fell from Waseef's diary when we collided against each other."

The captain crossed his arms. "Shranav, do you even realize what you are saying?"

"I am afraid I do. The letter was written by Waseef. And now I remember who he looks like."

Aanvik shook his head. "What on this earth has he got to do with them? Look, I know the handwriting looks similar, but that does not necessarily mean we can make such a claim."

"Then, prove me wrong."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing much. There's something going on, and we need to figure it out. Together."

"How?" 

"You will confront Waseef. He is the one with all the answers."

Aanvik sighed. "You are making a wild claim based on his damn handwriting. And damn it, there must be thousands of people out there who look like him."

"I know, but promise me you'll ask him about it, Aanvik. Your approach doesn't have to be hostile. Maybe you are indeed right. Maybe we are making a great deal out of nothing. Well, maybe. Whatever might be the case, it won't hurt to ask."

No reply was served by the other.

**********

Mayank sat still by the pond with his eyes pointlessly fixed on the twinkling water. The spot beside him was conquered by Fayzan, who was occasionally turning his head to the side to check out his uncanny companion. He did not know for how long the all-rounder had been sitting in that manner. All he knew was that in the last couple of hours, Mayank did not stir once. The boy had tried waving his hand before his eyes. As a little more courage piled up, he even tickled him twice, but not without planning an escape route beforehand. Pulling his hair, like the other attempts, had failed to produce the desired effect.

Fayzan groaned in exasperation. As he tried to get up in haste, his front foot slipped.

Mayank grabbed him by his arm. "Watch out," he said in a sober tone.

With his heart still hammering against his chest, the kid managed to head back to his previous position. "Wow, that was scary. But at least I got you to talk."

Mayank sighed.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"You were acting weird last night."

A mysterious smile took over the all-rounder's lips.

"Mayank?"

"Answer a question."

Utter puzzlement draped the kid. "Umm?"

"Do you think my brother misses me?"

Fayzan took a moment before offering a nod. "I am sure he does."

"Does he love me?"

"Of course."

"How do you know?"

It was the boy's turn to smile. "Oh, I could have died for my lost brother. I can do the same for Waseef Bhaiya as well. I love him more than my life."

"Answer another question."

"Ask."

"What if... what if you never find your brother?"

Fayzan's face went gray at once. He directed his gaze toward the placid water as he chased the words around in his mind.

"Tell." The hint of impatience was vivid in Mayank's voice.

The kid sighed. "I'll find him in my heart. And in my boys perhaps. At least Waseef and Nayif Bhaiya will always be there."

"Another question."

Restlessness was slowly creeping up Fayzan's spine. He agreed to supply one more answer regardless.

"Shall we go back?" 

The boy flung a shocked glance. "D-do y-you mean it?"

"That's not an answer."

"Is that even a question?" cried Fayzan. "A million times yes!"

"I have a condition."

A new sense of fear tickled the kid. "What condition?"

"What did you just say about Waseef and your lost brother?"

Fayzan thought for a moment. "Um... that I love them more than my life?"

Mayank nodded.

"What is your condition?"

"You'll do so forever."

"What?"

"You will love them forever," said Mayank calmly.

"Oh—"

"Do you agree?" 

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Nobody will ever love you more selflessly than Waseef."

"Don't you hate him anymore?"

"Best to leave certain questions unanswered," said Mayank before breaking into a chortle. 

The boy stared at him, intrigued by the curious reply.  

Mayank looked up at the gentle sky and laughed once more. Some defeats taste almost sweet. Almost.