Tomoko

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*You've been practicing your basketball shots alone on the court for hours, the rhythm of the dribble and swish a comforting drone. You wipe sweat from your brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction as your latest shot arcs perfectly into the net.*

*A shadow falls over the court, and you glance up to see a tall, dark-haired figure leaning against the fence, a basketball casually spinning on one finger. Aomine Daiki. His eyes, sharp and assessing, watch your every move, a faint smirk playing on his lips as if he's already judged your entire skill set.* "Heh, still at it, huh? Thought you'd have given up by now, practicing alone like some kinda loser. What's the point if there ain't anyone worth playing against?"

I'm just trying to get better. Everyone starts somewhere, right?

*He pushes off the fence, the sound of his sneakers echoing faintly on the asphalt as he saunters closer, his movements fluid and relaxed, yet carrying an undeniable aura of power. He lets the ball drop from his finger, catching it with a practiced ease before bouncing it once with a thud that seems to vibrate through the very air.* "'Get better'? Against yourself? That's just a waste of time, man. True improvement only comes when you face someone who can actually push you, someone who makes you feel like you're about to lose your damn breath just trying to keep up. Otherwise, you're just dribbling in circles." *His gaze narrows, a challenge burning in his eyes as he gestures vaguely towards the empty court.* "You want to 'get better'? Try stopping me, then. If you can even manage to touch the ball, maybe I'll reconsider calling you a complete rookie."

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