The day of the India vs. Australia match had arrived, and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. However, things didn't look good for Team India early on. 

India was chasing a target of 200 runs in 50 overs, and the pressure was on. But disaster struck in the first few overs, as the top order—Rohit Sharma, Ishan Kishan, and Shreyas Iyer—fell without scoring a single run.

The mood in the dressing room was tense. Virat Kohli was out on the field, fighting to stabilize the innings, while KL Rahul had barely come back from taking a quick shower after the team had gone into a sudden panic over the early wickets.

"Are you kidding me?" Rahul muttered under his breath as he was called to rush out to the field, barely having time to towel off. "This is insane."

As KL Rahul jogged out to join Virat at the crease, the stadium echoed with cheers and anxious murmurs. 

Everyone knew this partnership was crucial if India had any hope of turning the game around. The Aussies, fired up by the early wickets, were sledging hard, and the pressure was mounting with every passing over.

Back at the hotel, Shubman was stuck in the hotel medical centre, pacing around like a caged tiger. His diagnosis of dengue had benched him, and it killed him not being there with the team, especially in a crucial match like this. 

He had a screen set up to watch the game, but it wasn't the same. He could feel the frustration building up inside him as he watched the top order crumble.

"Damn it!" Shubman cursed under his breath, throwing his phone onto the bed after seeing Rohit's wicket fall. 

His condition had improved slightly, but he was still too weak to be on the field. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to be there, to help, to fight. Instead, he was confined to a bed, watching helplessly.

Meanwhile, in the stadium, KL Rahul joined Virat at the crease. His hair was still damp from the shower, but there was no time to worry about that. As he adjusted his helmet, Virat gave him a quick nod.

"Let's just get through this," Virat muttered under his breath. "Stay calm, play your shots. We can't afford any more collapses."

"Got it," Rahul replied, gripping his bat tightly.

The Aussies weren't letting up. The sledging was relentless, and the bowling was fierce. Pat Cummins, in particular, was giving everything he had, sending down rockets at Virat and Rahul. Every ball was a battle, and the tension was palpable.

In the stands, Naima watched the game with bated breath. She'd been unusually quiet since the start of the match, her eyes glued to the field. 

Her heart sank when the wickets fell, but seeing Virat and KL Rahul out there gave her a sliver of hope.

They had to hold on.

Siraj, sitting beside her, leaned over and muttered, "Can you believe this? Fucking hell, man. We can't afford this kind of collapse."

Naima just nodded, her jaw clenched. She knew the pressure they were all under, especially with Shubman out of the lineup. They had to dig deep, or this match was slipping away fast.

KL Rahul took a deep breath as he faced his first delivery. The ball flew towards him, and with a quick, precise movement, he punched it towards the boundary. The crowd erupted as the ball raced across the ground for a four.

"Good shot!" Virat called out, giving Rahul a thumbs-up from the other end of the pitch.

The two of them slowly began to build a partnership, taking singles, rotating the strike, and dispatching loose balls to the boundary. It was slow, but it was steady—exactly what India needed at that moment.

Back in the hotel, Shubman was watching every ball with gritted teeth, wishing more than anything he could be out there with them. 

He could feel the weight of the moment, and his fingers itched to grab a bat and take on the Aussies himself.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a message from Ishan, who was back in the dressing room.

Ishan: "Bro, you better be seeing this. Virat and KL are keeping us alive. But we need you here, man."

Shubman replied, trying to mask his frustration. "Trust me, I'm watching. I'd give anything to be out there right now."

As the match wore on, Virat and KL's partnership continued to grow, and the crowd's mood shifted from nervousness to cautious optimism. 

They were still far from the target, but the two batsmen were doing everything they could to keep the ship steady.

Naima watched intensely, her heart pounding with every ball. She wasn't just worried about the outcome of the game—she was thinking of Shubman too. 

She knew how much it was killing him not to be there, and it hurt her to see him sidelined like this. But right now, they had to focus on getting the job done.

With each run they accumulated, the pressure eased slightly. But everyone knew it would only take one mistake for the game to unravel again.

"Come on, Virat. Come on, KL," Naima whispered to herself, her fingers clenched tightly around the edge of her seat.

India's hopes rested on their shoulders, and the entire country was watching.

The tension in the stadium was almost unbearable as India battled against the odds, but the atmosphere shifted dramatically when Virat Kohli stepped up to the crease, determined to make an impact. He was calm yet fierce, wearing his trademark intensity-like armour.

With every run, the hopes of the Indian fans grew. KL Rahul joined him at the crease, and together, they began to build a partnership that ignited the crowd. 

Each shot echoed through the stadium, and Naima couldn't help but scream along with the rest of the audience every time they found the boundary.

"YES! Come on, Virat!" she cheered, pumping her fist in the air as Kohli struck a magnificent four off a fast delivery from Cummins. 

The entire crowd erupted, and she could see the spark in his eyes—he was in his element.

The duo worked the singles, rotating the strike effortlessly. Virat took on the Aussie bowlers like a gladiator in the arena, showing no fear. But soon, the tension mounted when he faced off against Josh Hazlewood.

"C'mon, Virat. Just play your game!" Rahul urged, trying to keep the momentum going.

But as Hazlewood ran in, the ball zipped off the surface, and in a split second, it was over. Virat executed a gorgeous drive, but the edge caught the top of the bat and sailed straight into the hands of Marnus Labuschagne at slip.

"NO! VIRAT!" Naima screamed, her heart dropping as she watched the captain walk off the field, shaking his head, frustration evident on his face. 

He had scored a brilliant 85 runs, but it felt like a bitter blow as he exited.

"Shit, we need to keep it together!" Ishan yelled from the stands, his voice cutting through the gasps and murmurs that filled the air.

KL Rahul was now left to fend for himself, with Hardik Pandya joining him at the crease. But KL was in no mood to crumble under the pressure; he had already come so far.

As Hardik settled in, KL looked focused, and determined to guide the team home. The runs were steadily ticking away, and with each boundary, the crowd erupted into cheers.

"You've got this, KL! Just stay strong!" Naima shouted, her heart racing with each delivery. She could feel the anxiety building, knowing they were so close to victory but also so far.

With Hardik's quick runs—11 off 8 balls—he added crucial support to KL. The partnership was essential as they approached the finish line.

"C'mon, Rahul! Just three runs left!" Naima yelled, her eyes glued to the screen as the atmosphere in the stadium reached a fever pitch.

As KL faced off against a final delivery from Hazlewood, the crowd held its breath. He swung his bat hard, connecting perfectly with the ball. It soared through the air, crossing the boundary line for four runs!

"YES! INDIA WINS!" The roar from the crowd was deafening, echoing through the stadium as fans erupted in celebration.

 KL Rahul raised his bat in triumph, a huge smile plastered across his face as he jogged down the pitch, knowing he had led India to victory with a not-out score of 97 runs.

Naima jumped up, hugging the nearest fan beside her, filled with exhilaration and pride. "WE DID IT! WE WON!" she shouted, tears of joy streaming down her face as she caught sight of KL celebrating.

Back in the hotel, Shubman's heart raced as he watched the match unfold on the screen, unable to contain his excitement. 

"Let's go!" he yelled, pumping his fist in the air, thrilled for his teammates even though he couldn't be out there himself.

The moment felt electric, and as the players hugged and celebrated on the field, Naima's heart swelled with pride. They had pulled it off, but the real victory was seeing the team come together against the odds.

Even though they hadn't scored a century, it didn't matter—what mattered was the spirit, resilience, and unity they had shown as a team. And as the night wore on, celebrations were sure to continue, but in the back of her mind, Naima knew this was only the beginning. The World Cup had just begun, and there was a long way to go.

"Alright, guys! We need to get back and celebrate this win!" she yelled to the others around her, excitement bubbling over as she led the charge back to the hotel.

The atmosphere was electric, and as they all headed back, the sound of joy and celebration filled the air.

As the team made their way back to the hotel, the atmosphere was electric with excitement and relief. After such an intense match, everyone was riding high on the adrenaline of the victory. India had beaten Australia in their opening World Cup match, and it was time to celebrate.

Naima, still buzzing from the thrill of the match, was the first one off the bus as they arrived at the hotel. 

"We need a proper party for this!" she declared, her voice filled with energy. The boys cheered in agreement, laughing and already planning the celebration.

Shubman, still feeling weak from his recovery, was already waiting in the hotel lobby, his eyes lighting up when he saw the team arrive. 

He smiled, watching as Naima led the charge, her excitement contagious. She spotted him immediately and rushed over, practically throwing herself into his arms.

"We won!" she yelled, her arms wrapping tightly around him. He chuckled, hugging her back with whatever strength he had, his heart swelling with pride for her.

"Of course, you did. I saw everything," Shubman said, his voice low but full of affection. "You were amazing, Naima."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling. "KL and Virat were on fire out there! You should've seen them!"

"I did," Shubman replied, brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "But you were the one keeping the pressure with your bowling. You were fierce."

Before she could say anything, Ishan Kishan suddenly appeared, throwing an arm around Naima's shoulders. "Oi, lovebirds! Enough of that. We're celebrating tonight!"

"I agree! This is a team victory," Rohit chimed in, joining the group, looking equally exhausted and happy.

The rest of the team poured into the hotel lobby, laughing, talking, and basking in the glow of their hard-fought win. Virat was smiling more than usual, his phone already blowing up with messages and notifications from fans and fellow players congratulating him on his performance.

"Alright, everyone freshen up, and let's meet in an hour. Drinks on me!" Hardik Pandya shouted, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. The boys cheered loudly in response.

As they dispersed to their rooms, Naima and Shubman walked side by side, their fingers brushing but not fully intertwining. There was a comfort between them that didn't need words. The quiet understanding that they shared was enough for now.

When they finally reached their room, Shubman collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, clearly still fatigued from his illness.

"You should rest, Shubman," Naima said, sitting beside him, her hand running through his hair softly.

"I will," he replied, his eyes closing under her gentle touch. "But not before the celebration. I'm not missing that."

Naima smiled. "You're stubborn."

"I'm dating you, aren't I?" he teased, opening one eye and smirking up at her.

She laughed and stood up, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. As she got ready, her thoughts drifted back to the match and the day. 

She had sensed something was off with Shubman earlier, but seeing him smile now made her feel a little more at ease. Still, she made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

Later that evening, the team gathered at the hotel's private lounge. Drinks flowed, and laughter filled the air as they recounted moments from the match. Naima, dressed in a casual black dress, was sitting beside Shubman, who looked a bit more refreshed after a short nap.

"To Virat and KL for saving our asses today!" Hardik toasted, raising his glass.

"And to Naima for keeping the Aussies on their toes with her bowling!" Rohit added, smiling at her.

Naima raised her glass modestly, feeling the warmth of her teammates' support.

"To the whole team," she said, raising her glass higher. "We fought together. We win together."

The group echoed her words and drank, their camaraderie stronger than ever.

A few hours into the celebration, Virat, tipsy and laughing, leaned over to Shubman. "Man, you should've seen her when she bowled that last wicket. She was fire! You're a lucky guy."

Shubman glanced at Naima, who was laughing with Ishan and Siraj, and smiled. "I know."

The night went on with endless jokes, stories, and the occasional teasing—especially directed toward Shubman and Naima, who were now the favourite target for the boys. But even through the laughter and chaos, the thought of the tournament weighed on all their minds.

The World Cup had just started, and they knew tougher challenges lay ahead. But tonight, they celebrated their victory as one—one team, one family.

welcome to the twelfth chapter of "The Man" !

the boys actually remade the 1983 wc moment lmao

what are your thoughts about the next chapter?

anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! make sure to comment on what you liked!

until then, yours truly

soup 🫶