By the time Arjun turned fourteen, whispers from the state-level tournaments had crossed borders. Scouts from national age-group teams came quietly, notebooks in hand, observing players who didn't scream for attention but demanded it in the way they moved, thought, and anticipated.
Arjun entered the national under-15 trials with the same calm precision he had shown in Guntur. Nothing flashy, nothing desperate. Just presence, awareness, and calculated patience.
The first match was in a crowded stadium in Vijayawada. Scouts sat in the stands, eyes darting between players, occasionally scribbling notes. Arjun scanned the pitch as if memorizing it for years ahead. He noted bowler actions, foot positions, field placements, and the subtle tells of each batsman.
When it was his turn to bat, he scored carefully, rotating strike, taking singles, letting others hit boundaries. By the end of the innings, the team had a competitive total, and Arjun had contributed just enough to be essential but not flashy.
In the field, he positioned himself instinctively, cutting off runs, subtly directing teammates with gestures they barely noticed. The captain began taking cues from him.
After the game, one of the scouts, a grizzled former first-class cricketer, leaned toward his colleague. "That kid… he's dangerous. Not for the runs he scores, but for what he sees before anyone else does."
Arjun heard none of it. He returned to the sidelines, adjusting his gloves, scanning the next bowlers. Nothing had changed. The game was still a puzzle, waiting to be solved.