NBA Skills: Dominating Kuroko no Basket

Then, under the astonished gazes of the crowd, Takao casually drove to the basket and scored with ease.

"What a pity, Kuroko" Midorima thought to himself.

"This… How is this even possible? It's the first time I've ever seen him fail a pass" Hyuga exclaimed in shock, his tone filled with disbelief.

"It's probably not his fault. Takao seems to have a skill similar to the 'Eagle Eye'" Izuki explained while analyzing the game.

Then, with a grim expression, he added, "No, it's even more advanced. His court vision is far broader — it's the 'Hawk Eye'."

"What?!" Hyuga was stunned, his face reflecting sheer astonishment.

"Kuroko's misdirection works by diverting people's attention from himself, but the Hawk Eye gives Takao an overview of the entire court. He doesn't need to focus on Kuroko at all. That makes misdirection ineffective against him!" Izuki furrowed his brow and detailed how Takao's skill countered Kuroko's abilities.

At this point, the first quarter entered its final 3 minutes and 40 seconds. The score was 11:8, with Shūtoku in the lead.

Suddenly, the referee blew the whistle. "Beep! Time-out requested by Seirin!"

Hearing this announcement, the gymnasium fell silent. Everyone knew what this meant — Seirin needed to rethink their strategy.

Seirin's coach, Riko, stood on the sidelines with a serious expression. Her eyes revealed a hint of anxiety and concern.

She understood how crucial Kuroko was to the team, but now, an opponent who could neutralize him had emerged. This was a dire situation.

"I didn't think someone could actually counter Kuroko. To think such a natural nemesis exists… Honestly, this is bad" Riko murmured.

In truth, it wasn't just her. All the players on Seirin's bench were deeply worried. They understood that Kuroko was the core of their offense. If he was contained, the team's entire system would crumble. Faced with such a predicament, they had to find a solution fast.

"Well, well, Seirin's in trouble" Takao remarked, a playful smile on his face as he lounged on Shūtoku's bench. His gaze drifted toward Seirin's bench, where he noticed their tense atmosphere.

A smirk tugged at his lips, a trace of mischief flickering in his eyes.

However, Midorima, standing nearby, looked at Takao with a stern expression and warned, "Don't let your guard down. Kuroko won't give up so easily."

Takao shrugged nonchalantly. "Relax. His only strength is his lack of presence. Without that, he's nothing special."

Midorima's face darkened slightly. He turned to Takao, his tone resolute. "Do you know why I can't stand him? It's because I respect his skill. Despite having no physical advantages and relying entirely on others, he still wore the same Teikō jersey as us and led his team to victory. His strength is unconventional — a unique kind of strength."

Midorima found himself reminiscing about their middle school days when Kuroko was still an unassuming, overlooked player. The memory of that once-invisible figure stirred complex emotions within him.

With a slightly irritated tone, Midorima continued, "That's why it bothers me so much. Someone I recognize would choose to join a team that doesn't allow him to fully showcase his abilities, willingly burying his own talent."

Midorima's words carried both frustration and disappointment, mingled with nostalgia for the past.

"What will you do, Kuroko?" Takao mused, his gaze falling on Kuroko, who sat expressionlessly on Seirin's bench, head lowered.

"Beep! Time-out's over!" Yet Kuroko remained on the court, not substituted out.

"So, have you come up with a plan?" Takao teased.

"I'm still thinking," Kuroko replied flatly, his face as unreadable as ever.

Takao was left speechless. "Geez, the guy's a total poker face!"

As the game resumed, Seirin's players, still fatigued from their previous match, showed signs of weariness. Their movements slowed, and their focus wavered.

Shūtoku quickly noticed this opening and launched a swift offensive. With sharp passing and agile positioning, they broke through Seirin's defense.

Although Seirin's players tried to intercept, their reactions were just a fraction too slow. Shūtoku effortlessly bypassed them, finishing with a clean layup.

In the following possession, Izuki passed the ball to Hyuga. Without hesitation, Hyuga leaped and released a shot.

The ball arced beautifully through the air, swishing cleanly through the net for three points!

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their excitement filling the arena.

"As expected, the higher the stakes, the less likely Hyuga is to miss!" Riko muttered to herself, a small smile forming on her lips.

She recalled a conversation with Hyuga back when he'd asked how to maintain his accuracy under pressure.

At the time, Riko had jokingly suggested, "Just smash one of your precious figurines every time you miss."

Unexpectedly, this seemingly casual comment had a profound impact on Hyuga.

Ever since, whenever a crucial moment arose, Hyuga would think of the figurines he had destroyed, the pressure driving him to focus intensely on every shot.

This mindset allowed him to excel under pressure, sinking critical shots time and again.

Watching Hyuga now, Riko felt a surge of pride. She realized that her harsh approach, while extreme, had been the right decision. It had helped Hyuga overcome his fears and become a true sharpshooter.

Meanwhile, Shūtoku's players continued their offense. Amid their seamless passing, Kuroko suddenly intercepted the ball.

However, just as Kuroko was about to initiate a counterattack, Takao snatched the ball back.

"Daydreaming? We're serious here. Put more effort into defense! My shooting range isn't that narrow!" Midorima declared.

The ball was swiftly passed to Midorima, who stood just a step behind the midcourt line.

With focused intensity, Midorima raised the ball, his wrist snapping fluidly, knees bending slightly as he jumped. The motion was seamless, like a move practiced countless times. Finally, the ball soared from his hand.

Seirin's players could only watch in stunned silence.

"A shot from midcourt?!"

The improbable distance left them in disbelief. Every pair of eyes followed the ball's trajectory, holding their breath.

"Swish!" The crisp sound of the ball hitting nothing but net reverberated through the gym.

The crowd exploded into cheers and applause, the arena reaching a fever pitch of excitement.