NBA Skills: Dominating Kuroko no Basket

"Hey! Coach is talking to you!" Wakamatsu's voice echoed through the gym, tinged with impatience, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Seeing Aomine's indifferent attitude, he couldn't hold back anymore. He shot up from the bench, frustration spilling over as he loudly confronted him.

Imayoshi, however, kept his eyes locked on Aomine. He noticed Wakamatsu's movement and immediately reacted, grabbing his teammate to hold him back.

He was surprised by Aomine's demeanor, but more than anything, he felt anticipation.

Because he knew—Aomine's true strength was far beyond what he had shown so far. A sharp glint flashed in Imayoshi's eyes. "Is he finally going all out?"

"Captain, don't stop me! This is just plain rude!" Wakamatsu's temper flared as he struggled against Imayoshi's restraint, his frustration boiling over.

But Imayoshi's grip tightened, his voice carrying a firm, unquestionable authority. "Leave him alone."

"You're just letting him get away with this?" Wakamatsu was exasperated, but he knew better than to defy the captain's orders.

Aomine slowly lifted his head, moving with the ease and confidence of a lion surveying its domain. His expression remained unreadable, his gaze cold and distant—but beneath that icy exterior, there was an undeniable, overwhelming presence.

With a calm yet resolute tone, Aomine finally spoke: "Relax. I'll win this for us. The only one who can beat me... is me."

The moment those words left his mouth, Tōō's bench instantly felt a shift in the atmosphere. Their earlier worries dissipated, replaced by a newfound confidence. As long as Aomine was on the court, victory wasn't just a possibility—it was within reach.

Seeing this, Imayoshi smiled knowingly. He had seen Aomine's full power before, and he understood—once Aomine got serious, there was no stopping him.

"Tōō is eerily calm right now... almost unsettlingly so" Kagami muttered, watching the opposing team's bench.

Kuroko stared intently at his former teammate, his sharp eyes filled with both uncertainty and expectation. Aomine wouldn't just give up like that. He had to be planning something.

"Something feels off... Aomine…" Kise murmured, suspicion creeping into his voice as he watched Aomine from across the court. He's different.

"BEEP!"

The referee's whistle pierced through the tension, signaling the start of the fourth quarter.

Both teams stepped onto the court, their footsteps echoing in the vast gymnasium—each stride filled with unwavering determination.

Tōō had possession, and Imayoshi dribbled forward, his movements smooth and precise before immediately passing to Aomine.

The ball soared through the air in a perfect arc, heading straight for Aomine's hands.

"SMACK!"

But to everyone's shock, Aomine remained motionless, seemingly lost in thought. The ball was intercepted by Midorima before Aomine even reacted.

"What's going on? Why didn't he move?" Confused murmurs rippled through the crowd, all eyes locked onto Aomine.

"Did he just... give up?" Some spectators voiced their disappointment, their excitement dimming as they tried to make sense of the scene.

The entire gym buzzed with speculation, but Aomine remained eerily still, his head lowered, as if completely unaware of the noise around him. Under the bright stadium lights, his solitary figure looked almost... detached, as though he were in a world of his own.

Kise, watching from the stands, clenched his fists. His golden eyes flickered with both confusion and concern. "There's no way he'd just quit. Unless..."

His gaze darted to Kuroko, their eyes meeting for a brief second—both of them realizing the same thing.

Kagami, standing between them, scratched his head in frustration. "Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?"

On the court, Midorima dribbled forward, keeping a close watch on Aomine.

But still, Aomine didn't move.

Midorima narrowed his eyes, gripping the ball tightly. He knew Aomine wasn't someone who would just stand idly by—but right now, he had no time to dwell on it.

Taking a deep breath, Midorima coiled his body like a spring, preparing to release one of his signature long-range shots.

He stole another glance at Aomine. Still no movement.

No hesitation. Midorima leapt into the air, his form perfect, releasing the ball with a practiced flick of his wrist. The ball spun smoothly, cutting through the air in a flawless trajectory.

Bzzzt... Bzzzt...

A faint crackling sound.

Midorima's eyes widened.

And then—

A streak of black and blue flashed past him, moving so fast it was almost imperceptible.

The ball vanished.

BOOM!

The sound of a powerful dunk reverberated through the gym. But it wasn't just any dunk—this one carried an impact so fierce, so commanding, that the very air seemed to tremble in its wake.

All eyes shot toward the hoop.

Hanging from the rim, like a king overlooking his domain—was Aomine.

His body radiated an almost tangible intensity, an aura that sent shivers down the spines of everyone on the court. His eyes, now glowing with an electrifying light, held nothing but pure, unshakable confidence.

As he landed gracefully on the floor, he slowly turned to face Midorima, his expression unreadable.

And then, with an air of absolute certainty, he spoke.

"You lost, Midorima."