Part-446

  Tahera, who had been diligently organizing the equipment – water bottles in neat rows, basketballs precisely pced – stepped forward. Usually, she moved with a brisk efficiency that bordered on military precision, but today, there was a noticeable tinge of gravity in her movements. She wasn't her usual zippy self.

  “Actually, Coach Rahman,” she interjected, her voice a little quieter than usual, “it’s been… an extended period.” She paused, searching for the right words, "He’s been ill for quite some time now.” "Quite some time" was doing a lot of heavy lifting there, hinting at a situation far more serious than a simple flu. Her voice carried a somber tone, and you could hear the weight of the situation in every sylble. It was like she was carrying the team’s worry on her shoulders.

  Coach Rahman shifted his attention to Tahera, his ser-beam gaze softening just a fraction as he recognized her. He’d seen her at previous games, always organized, always on top of things. “I understand you are the team manager?” he asked, more as a confirmation than a question. He already knew. He was Coach Rahman; he did his homework.

  “Tahera Khanam, sir,” Tahera confirmed, nodding respectfully. She met his gaze directly, showing her own brand of quiet strength. “Yes, I am.” Simple, direct, no-nonsense – that was Tahera. Even when dealing with bad news.

  Coach Rahman pivoted back to Kiyoshi, his expression now openly dispying genuine concern. The professional detachment had melted away, repced by a more human empathy. "And your coach…" he began, his voice softer now, "what is the nature of his illness? If you don’t mind me asking.” It was a personal question, but asked with such sincerity that it didn't feel intrusive. It felt like he genuinely wanted to understand, not just to gossip.

  Kiyoshi hesitated for a beat, just long enough to choose his words carefully. This wasn't just a casual locker room chat. “It’s… complicated, sir,” he finally answered, with quiet honesty. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it, but he wasn't going to overshare either.

  “He’s been dealing with a serious illness.” He paused again, the unspoken part hanging heavy in the air. “We’re not sure… we’re not sure when, or if, he’ll be able to return to coaching.” The uncertainty was the hardest part, you could hear it in his voice. It was like pying a game with no final whistle in sight.

  Tahera chimed in, adding another yer to the somber picture. Her voice was tinged with a noticeable sadness, a quiet ache for their coach. “His condition is still uncertain,” she echoed Kiyoshi’s sentiment. “It’s… it’s been difficult for the team.” That was an understatement. It was like trying to navigate a ship without a captain, in the middle of a storm, and hoping you don't crash into an iceberg. Difficult was putting it mildly.

  The news seemed to physically settle on Coach Rahman, like a subtle shadow falling over him. He stood motionless for a moment, a statue carved from concern, absorbing the weight of the information. You could almost see him processing it, each word sinking in.