Just then, the pavilion door slid open. Yasir entered, calm and composed as always, with Yara walking in behind him—expression unreadable, eyes already fixed on her laptop she was opening even before she sat down on the seat farthest ahead.
"Alright boys," Yasir clapped his hands lightly, "The countdown's started. Let's focus on the match, shall we—?"
But the moment he spoke, the lively chatter vanished as if someone switched off the sound system of the pavilion. High schoolers and middle schoolers alike turned stiffly toward the field, faces serious, backs straight.
Not a single word. Not a cough. Not even a shuffle. Just a collective, silent nod.
Yasir blinked, but understanding followed right after. The rift that had passed between Yara and the boys last night had changed things more sharply than he expected.
Yara didn't even bother acknowledging the room—she simply walked straight to the front row and sat down, screen glowing against her face, fingers already tapping.
The coaches nodded politely to Yasir. He smiled back.
Behind them, Lucas's eyes narrowed at Yara's back, expression hardening. His jaw tightened unconsciously. "
Don't glare so hard, Senior," one of the middle schoolers whispered beside him, "You're gonna drill a hole in the chief counsellor's skull."
Pierre snorted, "Relax. Coach's sister has a thick skull. A glare won't do anything."
Mark tugged lightly on Lucas's sleeve, voice small, "But we can cheer for Brother Haitam and Galleous… right? She won't get angry?"
"If she gets angry, so be it," Raza replied loudly, standing up without hesitation. His voice carried enough that Yara couldn't possibly pretend not to hear, "Not our problem."
The entire pavilion froze.
Mahd dragged a hand down his face, "There goes his stupid bravery again…" he thought at a loss.
Yara pretending to ignore gave a swift dismissive side glance before continuing her work.
"Coach Yasir," Raza continued with a polite—borderline challenging—smile, "don't take it to heart. Haitam and the rest need our full support. So we won't hold back. I hope you agree."
Yasir smiled gently, "Of course."
Raza nodded, satisfied, then turned toward Mark and extended a hand, "Come on, brother boy. Leave Lucas for now. Let's go cheer."
Mark brightened immediately, turning to Lucas for approval.
Lucas's stern face softened just enough for a nod. That was all the permission needed. The first-year MS practically bounced off the seat, grabbing Raza's hand.
Basil rose next, stretching, "All of you who want to come," he called, jerking his head toward the boundary line ahead, "let's move. They're about to deliver the first ball."
Within seconds, half the pavilion emptied. The boys spilled out onto the boundary line like a stream breaking from a dam, waving, laughing, nudging one another as they settled behind the ropes. Their voices carried across the field—playful jeers, loud cheers, and friendly cackling.
Yara kept her eyes fixed on her laptop, unmoving—still as stone. From behind, Yasir watched them and smiled softly, almost fondly, at the chaotic loyalty of his "circus."
"Tell me, Yara… don't you think it's time to finally let go of the past?" he asked suddenly. The single question froze Yara mid-typing. She turned slightly, eyes puzzled. "What…?" But Yasir simply stared ahead instead, that familiar smile still gently fixed on his face.
The game finally began as the umpire raised his arm and called, "Play."
The stadium erupted. Milan tossed the ball once, caught it, and moved into his run-up. At the crease, Adam tapped his bat, steadying himself.
Crossing the popping crease, Milan released the ball with sharp intent, spearing it toward Adam's feet. The pace jolted him, but he dropped into a back-foot defense just in time, the bat meeting the ball right above his toes. With the slight force behind it, the ball dribbled straight back toward the bowler.
A collective "OH!" rippled through the crowd.
Milan planted his foot to stop it, but the ball slipped just past him and rolled toward the straight boundary.
"Run!" Adam called, already charging as Ezekiel responded.
Haitam sprinted after the ball, scooping it up and firing it back to the keeper—but by then Adam had made it to the crease, securing the first two runs of the innings. "Haha!" he let out a breathless laugh.
"Just as Sera, Sera said… play the first ball well, and the rest will follow!" He thought pleased. Confidence surged through him as Milan collected the returning ball and walked back to his mark.
"Oh, now that was a sharp way to begin! The fans waiting for Milan's LBW must be disappointed," Jones said.
"Absolutely. And with that, Karachi Kings open their account with two runs…" Maaz followed up.
The second delivery of the over, came with the same sharp accuracy. Adam met it solidly once more, driving it along the ground toward the straight boundary.
Milan darted after it again, but this time Adam settled for a quick single. Ezekiel flashed him a thumbs-up from the other end.
Milan grabbing the ball shot Adam a brief, assessing glance before heading back for his next run-up.
"Not bad," Ren remarked, turning toward the middle schoolers, "He's using Milan's own height against him—bowling right at the feet. Milan usually targets the batsmen's feet, but Adam is sending it straight back at him, leaving Milan unable to react quickly. It's classic Milan tactics, turned against him."
"I told you already," Feng said with a casual shrug, "Short people no matter how innocent, are naturally clever."
Ryan and Alan couldn't help but smile at the compliment.
Ezekiel tapped his bat against the crease, narrowing his eyes as Milan stepped onto the popping crease and released the ball sharply from his grip. "Past Echo," he whispered.
The ball bounced on the pitch, leaving behind a ghostly trail of the previous two deliveries.
Confused, Ezekiel froze and raised his front foot in a solid defensive stance, refusing to gamble. "What in the world…? Three balls, three lines…?" he muttered, baffled.
Milan grabbed the ball back, giving him a stern glare as he stepped back. Ezekiel swallowed, a grin tugging at his lips, "Oy, oy… I'm just a spin-returner. I seriously have no clue about haunting pace ghost deliveries," he murmured as a shift in the air signaled a change.
A translucent, shimmering mist curled around Ezekiel as he leaned back, grinning. Milan's eyes narrowed, while Adam gasped in excitement.
Haitam, Zain, Yahya, David blinked, and Kirill in slip tightened his gaze.
"But… I do know someone who surely has, right, Adam?" Ezekiel said, his tone softening but remaining poised. Within the mist, golden-yellow hair flickered like sunlight, eyes molten gold, tall and lean, radiating readiness. A confident grin spread across his face.
"Sera! Sera!" Adam called out.
Ezekiel's grin widened — he had taken Seraph's form. "Sorry to startle you all. But, please think of me as a guest star in this little series, will you?" he said, lifting his bat with a playful flourish.
"Oh, so that's your 'Turnover Illusion'…" Galleous observed from fine leg.
Without wasting a moment, Milan charged toward the crease. The fourth ball of the first over, as soon as Milan left the ball, the ball went like blazing fire, a leg cutter.
Ezekiel, in Seraph's form narrowed his gaze as he played a swift but powered cover drive taking a single. Kian grabbing the ball just outside the cover, passed it back to Milan.
Adam tapped his bat on the crease and looked up.
The fifth ball of the over, Milan completed his run-up and released the ball right from the popping crease.
It pitched with force, then swung sharply towards the leg side—a perfect outswinger. Exactly what Adam had been waiting for. Holding his stance, he gathered his strength. "Super-fast tornado smash!" His bat cut through the air as he launched the ball high.
"OHH!!" the crowd erupted as the ball soared over the inner-circle fielders and sailed straight to wide long-off for a clean, one-bounce boundary—the very first of the innings.
"What a beautiful, controlled shot. Exquisite timing from Karachi's opening batter as they claim their first boundary…" Maaz announced over the commentary box.
"Haha, cool, right?" Adam grinned, fist-bumping Ezekiel.
"Yup," Ezekiel smirked, winking, "cool as ice."
Milan merely glanced their way before turning back to his mark at the edge of the inner circle. The final ball of the over was played safely back—a neat dot.
With that, the first over concluded: Karachi at 8 runs for no loss, the run rate holding steady at 8.00.