After two detentions in a row, Ishan was sure of one thing—Shubman wasn’t just any newbie. He had a way of getting under Ishan's skin, without even trying. And Ishan, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, couldn’t stop poking back.

"Alright boys, gather up!" Mr. Gambhir's voice cut through the morning air, his whistle sharp. "Today's drills will be tough, and I expect focus. No messing around."

Ishan rolled his eyes but lined up with the rest of the camp. Shubman was at the front, of course, all serious and focused like this was a national game and not just practice. The dude was talented, no doubt about that, but so damn uptight. Ishan stretched lazily, noticing how Shubman’s back was straight, his eyes zeroed in on the coach’s instructions like he had something to prove.

"Hey, party boy, you awake?" Riyan nudged Ishan with a grin.

"Awake enough to beat your bowling," Ishan shot back with a smirk, cracking his neck in preparation. "Try me."

Riyan laughed. "You're all talk, man. I'll be the one sending you straight back to detention when you miss my swing."

They exchanged friendly banter, but Ishan's attention kept drifting to Shubman, who hadn’t even looked back once. It was like the guy was in his own world, and that irked Ishan more than he wanted to admit. What was his deal?

As the drills started, Ishan found himself in the nets, facing Riyan. His first few swings were solid, the bat connecting cleanly with the ball. But then, as he prepared for another delivery, he saw Shubman nearby, doing fielding practice with the seniors, his movements sharp, his focus intense. Something about it made Ishan lose his own rhythm.

The next ball came fast, and Ishan swung too late. The ball knocked the bails off, leaving him standing there, stunned.

"What happened to beating my bowling?" Riyan called, laughing as he jogged to retrieve the ball. "Looks like you're the one who needs detention now."

Ishan scowled, adjusting his gloves. "Just a fluke," he muttered, though the irritation ran deeper than that.

As he walked back to join the others, Shubman finally glanced over. Ishan half-expected some smug remark, but Shubman just looked at him with an unreadable expression before turning back to his own drills. No teasing, no nothing. Somehow, that made it worse.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of practice and drills, but that weird tension between them stayed. Ishan found himself watching Shubman more than usual—how he batted, how he fielded, even how he handled the other players. He was undeniably good, and that only made Ishan more annoyed.

At lunch, Ishan plopped down next to Mayank, who was deep in conversation about the latest cricket match.

"So, I heard Shubman’s aiming for the U19 captaincy," Mayank said, casually taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Captaincy?" Ishan blinked. "He just got here."

"Yeah, but he’s already got people talking. Coach Gambhir seems impressed with him," Mayank replied, shrugging.

Ishan groaned inwardly. Of course, Shubman would be the type to aim for captaincy on day one. But why did it bother him so much?

"You’ve got that look," Mayank said, squinting at Ishan. "Don’t tell me you’re actually bothered by this guy?"

Ishan frowned, pushing his food around on the plate. "No, it’s just—he’s so... serious. Like he’s too good to talk to anyone. Makes me want to mess with him, you know?"

Mayank raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you just don’t like that he’s better than you."

"Better?" Ishan scoffed, though the word stung more than he let on. "No way. He’s just good at acting like he’s better."

Before Mayank could say more, Mr. Gambhir’s whistle blew again, calling them back to the field. As they gathered for more drills, Ishan found himself stationed near Shubman. Perfect.

"You think you're getting that captaincy spot?" Ishan said, unable to resist the jab as they stood in line for batting practice.

Shubman glanced at him, unfazed. "It's not about getting it. It's about earning it."

"Right, 'cause you're the shining star of the camp, huh?" Ishan shot back, taking his stance at the crease.

Shubman didn’t reply, but his silence spoke louder than words. Ishan took a deep breath and focused as the bowler sent the ball flying his way. This time, he swung perfectly, the bat making solid contact, sending the ball soaring across the field.

Shubman’s eyes followed the ball, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he picked up his bat and walked to the crease for his turn. As he stood there, ready for the delivery, Ishan watched with crossed arms, waiting for him to slip up.

But Shubman didn’t miss a beat. His bat sliced through the air with precision, sending the ball flying in a clean arc that made even the seniors pause.

"Good shot, Shubman!" Mr. Gambhir called out, his praise unmistakable.

Ishan clenched his jaw. It wasn’t just that Shubman was good—he was almost flawless, and that was somehow more infuriating than anything else.

As practice wound down and the sun began to set, Ishan found himself lingering by the nets, watching as Shubman packed up his gear. There was something unspoken between them, a rivalry that neither of them had voiced yet.

Before Ishan could walk away, Shubman spoke up, his voice calm. "You should focus more on your game than on me."

Ishan blinked, caught off guard. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Shubman met his eyes, his gaze steady. "You’re good, Ishan. But you could be better if you stopped wasting time trying to prove something."

Ishan opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Shubman turned and walked away, leaving Ishan standing there, a strange mixture of frustration and respect swirling in his chest.

Maybe this rivalry wasn’t just about cricket after all.

A/n:
[It was a promised fic..And I almost forgot about it.So trying to keep my words 😪]