It was the final of the World Cup, the match that everyone had been waiting for—the culmination of years of dedication, sweat, and sacrifice. India, the powerhouse that had dominated the tournament, was on the brink of glory. 

But despite their fierce fight, it was Australia who claimed victory, chasing down India's target of 241 runs with 42 balls remaining. 

The scoreboard showed Australia: 241/4 (43/50 ov), and India was defeated by 6 wickets.

The tension in the air was palpable as the final overplayed out. Despite the best efforts from Shami, Bumrah, Kuldeep, and Siraj, who fought till the very last moment, Australia's batsmen took the game away. 

The stadium was silent for a brief second before the cheers from the Australian camp broke the stillness. But for the Indian players, the realization hit them hard.

As soon as the final ball was bowled and Australia had won, the Indian team stood frozen, a mixture of disbelief, heartbreak, and exhaustion.

Siraj, who had given everything on the field, was the first to break down. His face twisted in anguish, tears spilling down his cheeks as he dropped his head into his hands. 

Bumrah, Jadeja, and Kuldeep were immediately at his side, their arms around him in a silent show of support, trying to console their broken teammate.

Naima, her face pale and void of emotion, sank to her knees on the field, her bat still clutched in her hands. 

She had given everything she had and bowled brilliantly throughout the tournament, but it wasn't enough. Her hands trembled as the tears began to fall, quietly at first, then streaming down her face.

Rohit and Virat, who had been pillars of strength throughout the tournament, stood just a few feet away. They too were struggling to hold back their emotions. 

Virat, usually composed under pressure, was visibly shaking, trying desperately to contain his tears. 

He turned to see his wife, Anushka, standing on the sidelines with Athiya, Ritika, and Karthik.

KL Rahul, standing next to Virat, his face contorted with emotion, also dropped to his knees, his hands gripping his head as he fought to suppress the sobs. 

Athiya, unable to look at him, stood motionless, unsure of how to comfort her husband, her hands trembling at her side. 

Karthik stood beside Athiya looking at Naima, his eyes glassy with tears, unsure of how to approach her. She had always been his rock, and now, she was shattered too.

The silence of the moment hung heavy in the air, broken only by the muffled sobs of the Indian team, who had given their all but came up just short.

The walk back to the dugout felt like a blur to Naima. Every step was heavy, her legs like lead. The tears had stopped flowing, but the weight of the defeat pressed down on her chest. She didn't even look at anyone; she just walked, numb.

When the team finally reached the dugout, the reality of the loss started to sink in. Virat, unable to hold it any longer, rushed to Anushka, his wife, who was standing quietly on the sidelines, her face etched with concern. 

As soon as he reached her, he collapsed into her arms, his face buried in her shoulder as his sobs finally took over.

"I'm sorry, Anu," he choked out, his voice hoarse, his grip tightening around her. "I tried, I tried so hard."

Anushka, too, was fighting her own tears, her hands running through his hair as she held him close. "You don't have to apologize, Virat," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. "You gave it all. We all saw that."

KL Rahul, who had been equally affected by the loss, walked toward Athiya, his face crumpled with grief. He didn't even say anything. 

He just wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, his sobs muffled by her shoulder. "Athiya, I'm sorry," he whispered. "We couldn't win."

Athiya, holding him tightly, whispered back, "It's okay, KL. You did your best. We all did."

Rohit, walking back slowly with his head down, avoided looking at anyone. But when he saw Ritika, his wife, standing at the edge of the dugout, he couldn't hold back anymore. He rushed to her, his long strides making up for the moments of hesitation. 

The moment he reached her, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his body shaking as the emotions hit him full force.

"I couldn't do it, Ritika," he said, his voice trembling. "I let everyone down."

Ritika, her own eyes brimming with tears, held him just as tightly. "No, Rohit, you didn't. None of you did. You fought till the end. You were amazing out there. And we're proud of you."

Back in the dugout, Naima was sitting with her head buried in her hands. She felt completely drained, both physically and emotionally. 

Shubman, having walked off the field a little earlier, was still in his gear, his face etched with frustration. 

He walked toward her, not knowing what to say. There was nothing anyone could say to make this moment better. He sat next to her in silence, his hand resting lightly on her back.

Naima didn't speak for a long time, just staring at the floor, her chest rising and falling with every breath, but the tears had stopped. Finally, she looked up at Shubman, her eyes red and puffy.

"I tried, Shubman. I really did." Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible, filled with regret. "I couldn't help us win."

Shubman, his voice barely above a whisper, said, "Naima, you did everything you could. We all did. But sometimes, it's not meant to be. You're a fighter, always have been, and you'll keep fighting."

She looked at him, her face still etched with defeat, but she could feel his warmth beside her, trying to reassure her.

"You're right," she said finally, though her voice cracked. "I just... I just wanted to win it for all of us. Especially for you, for the team, for my brother..."

Shubman, pulling her into a hug, whispered softly, "You did win it, Naima. Not every victory has a trophy. You've won us all over with your heart, your fight, and your spirit."

But even with his comforting words, the weight of the loss remained. It was a night they would all remember, not as the night of glory, but as the night of tears, heartbreak, and unspeakable frustration.

As the team gathered to leave the field, there were no celebratory chants or wild cheers. The streets of Bengaluru, usually filled with the energy of victory, were silent. The players knew they had lost, and tonight, there was no room for anything but quiet reflection.

The final had slipped through their fingers, and with it, the World Cup.

As the team slowly made their way back to the locker rooms, there was an eerie silence in the air. The usual post-match chatter, the banter, the high-fives – it was all gone. 

The Indian players, who had shown immense promise and skill throughout the tournament, were now facing the aftermath of a painful defeat. 

Each player, in their own way, was trying to process the loss, but it was clear that they were all still reeling from the crushing blow of coming so close, yet falling short.

Naima, her face still blank and her mind buzzing with frustration stood motionless for a few moments. She could feel Shubman standing beside her, his presence a small comfort, but the weight of everything was too much to bear. 

He could see the struggle in her eyes, the desire to scream, to let out all the anger and pain, but she was holding it in—clutching it tightly like it was the last thing she had control over.

"Naima," Shubman said softly, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. His voice, though calm, carried the weight of the emotions that had been building up for hours. "You did your best. You gave it everything. And no one can take that away from you."

Naima didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the ground, her fingers playing with the strap of her kit bag. She felt a lump in her throat, her heart heavy, and the tears that had been held back were now threatening to break free. 

She shook her head, fighting against the surge of emotions. "It wasn't enough," she whispered, barely audible. "We weren't enough."

Shubman stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her, his embrace a comforting shield against the harshness of the moment. "You were enough," he said firmly, his words laced with both tenderness and an undeniable intensity. 

"The team was enough. We fought, every single one of us. But sometimes, it's just not our time. And that's okay. You did more than anyone could have asked for. You carried us all."

Her breath hitched, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to collapse against him, her tears finally coming. Shubman held her tighter, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

"It's not fair," she muttered, her voice shaky as she buried her face in his chest. "We deserved it. I wanted it so bad for all of us, for you, for everyone."

"I know, baby," he murmured, his hand gently caressing her back. "I wanted it too. But this... this doesn't define us. You don't define yourself by a single moment, not by this game. You're so much more."

The words were comforting, but they still felt hollow. She knew they were meant to heal, but at that moment, nothing could take away the sting of defeat. 

Naima pulled back slightly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I just... I need a minute."

Shubman nodded, giving her the space she needed, though his eyes never left her face. "Take all the time you need, Naima," he said softly. "But know this: I'm here. We're all here."

As Naima took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside her, the rest of the team had gathered around in the locker room, each dealing with the loss in their own way. 

Virat was with Anushka, still hugging her tightly as the raw emotion of the loss consumed him. Rohit, KL Rahul, and the others were either sitting in silence or pacing, their minds clouded with disappointment.

Ritika, Athiya, and Anushka had quietly approached, offering quiet words of comfort to their husbands. But for now, no one knew what to say.

 There was nothing to say that would make this better. The team had given their all, but tonight, they had come up short.

As the hours passed, and the team gathered for the post-match debrief, the reality of the defeat still lingered in the air like a thick fog. Naima's thoughts were distant, her focus scattered.

 She tried to listen, tried to engage with the discussion, but all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Every word felt like an echo, every moment too heavy to bear.

"We'll come back stronger," said Rohit, his voice firm though his eyes betrayed the sadness. "This isn't the end. We've got years of cricket ahead of us, and we'll make it right."

But even his words didn't carry the usual weight of assurance they had in the past. He, like everyone else, was still feeling the sting of defeat.

Naima stood in the corner of the room, looking out the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Shubman quietly walked up beside her, standing in silence. She could feel him watching her, but she didn't turn to face him just yet. She couldn't.

"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice low and gentle.

She finally turned to him, her eyes still red, her face pale. "I'm not sure I will be."

Shubman nodded, his expression serious. "You will be. We all will be. This isn't the end of anything. We've been through worse, haven't we?"

Naima half-smiled, though it was laced with sadness. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They stood there for a moment longer, not saying anything, just being in the quiet together. Then, when Naima finally spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know how to go on from here. How do we all pick up the pieces?"

Shubman's response was simple, yet powerful. "One day at a time, Naima. One day at a time."

It wasn't easy. It never was. The team returned to their respective homes, taking the time they needed to heal. 

Shubman and Naima, their bond stronger than ever, leaned on each other more in the following weeks. They talked through their emotions, supported each other through the loss, and eventually, found peace with it.

naimaprushka via twitter

- It's been almost 16 hours but still hurts like it did last night. Sometimes giving your everything isn't enough. We fell short of our ultimate goal but every step in this journey has been a testament to our team's spirit and dedication. To our incredible fans, your unwavering support in our highs and lows means the world to us. This isn't the end, it's not over until we win. 

- But I'm just mad as hell, cause i loved this place

Welcome to the sixteenth chapter of "The Man"!

this chapter was too tough to write

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 🫶