rematch | ishman

CH: 13

a/n: jeetne ki khushi mein update. today MI was MI-ing. no downfall will stop me from supporting them. and ishan meri jaan, you were a beauty today <3

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Ishan woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. He rubbed his temples with a groan, the harsh lights stinging his eyes. “Fuck, am I dead,” he muttered.

“Not yet.”

Ishan blinked at the sight of Aditi beside him. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” she chuckled softly, handing him a glass of water.

Ishan mentally cussed, realizing she had probably seen him sprawled on the bed like a dying seal for god knows how long. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he sat up. “What’re you doing here?”

“Would you rather wake up to someone else?” she teased.

Ishan flushed a little. “Um, that’s not what I– How long have I been out?”

She didn't answer. Instead she crossed her arms, a concerned furrow appearing on her brow. “You know, Ishan, you really had us worried.”

“Sorry, I just…” he trailed off, rubbing his neck.

“What are you sorry for, silly? For being selfless?”

Ishan winced, feeling a pang of unease. “I’m not sure if that fits me,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. H-How’s the match going?”

Ishan’s voice wavered with jitters. What if they were losing? Or worse, what if they were losing because of him? Besides, he had a promise to fulfill– the one he made to Shubman three years ago.

Oh, right. He remembered Shubman shouting his name before he blacked out. “Who brought me here?” he asked, finally glancing around the medical room.

"Tilak," Aditi replied. "The timeout ended, so the others couldn't leave the ground.”

"I see," Ishan muttered. “Poor Tillu, the boy’s barely got any flesh on him.”

Aditi chuckled softly as she looked for the cold packs. Ishan watched her quietly, his mind still reeling from what happened. What were the odds of history repeating itself on a day he'd desperately wished it wouldn't? The weight of knowing he was responsible for his own injury both times sat on his shoulder like the eagle pecking out Prometheus’s liver.

“Earth to, Ishan?” Aditi's voice broke through his thoughts as she waved her hands in front of his face. “You've been a little lost lately. What's the matter, Ish?”

Ishan’s breath came out labored, his body hunched over as his hands clenched tightly around his head, fingers digging into his scalp. “I feel pathetic, Adi.”

Aditi softened at how vulnerable he looked. She moved closer to him, gently patting his back. “I’m listening, tell me what's been bothering you.”

He peeked at her from behind his hands, half expecting to see a look of pity or charitable sympathy. But there was only affection. Ishan had never spoken out loud about what happened, not even to Mayank. Everyone had a vague idea about how him and Shubman fell out, but no one knew the hurt that came along with it. He fleeted his gaze around the walls, fearing that Aditi too would see the weakness he had so long tried to hide from her. “Do you know that I never played the U-17 final?” he asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Yes, I heard,” she replied, nodding slowly. “Have you been thinking about the past?”

Ishan shifted on the bed uneasily, finding the right words. “I injured myself the day before the final… just like now. I don't know why it happened again.”