The Joker (Kuroko no Basket insert)

Shoichi Imayoshi POV

Imayoshi's trademark smirk grew wider as he descended the arena steps, hands casually tucked in his pockets. That had been quite the show though not the one he'd expected to see today. He'd come to scout Senshinkan, one of their potential opponents, only to witness them get completely dismantled by Onita High. 

Onita was supposed to be average. A team of solid but unremarkable players, cobbled together without any standout talent. Their captain, Kobayashi, was the only player who had caught his eye during past games, a steady hand in the chaos of high school basketball. Yet here they were, playing like a team far beyond what their reputation suggested.

But it wasn't the captain who held Imayoshi's attention now.

That center.

Imayoshi's normally slitted eyes had opened slightly watching him control the entire game without seeming to try. Standing at what must have been two meters tall, with the broad-shouldered bulk of an American football player, he was an anomaly even beyond Yosen's Murasakibara. The Generation of Miracles' center was already a genetic outlier in Japanese basketball with his height and reach, but this one... it wasn't just his size that unnerved Imayoshi it was the way he moved.

It was almost amusing how casually he'd broken their defense. More interesting still was how he'd made it look almost boring no flashy moves, no explosive plays, just calm destruction. His sheer mass meant defenders bounced off him, yet he never seemed to use his strength carelessly. Instead, he'd use subtle shifts of his considerable bulk to create space, letting smaller players tire themselves out trying to move him.

But what truly caught Imayoshi's attention was the center's subtle sadism. The way he'd deliberately lull defenders into a false sense of security, moving slowly, almost lazily, before suddenly threading passes through impossible angles. Each time a defender thought they'd finally read him, he'd do something completely unexpected. A no-look pass when they were certain he'd shoot. A lightning-quick dish to a cutter when they were braced for his methodical post moves. His size alone drew double teams, but instead of forcing through them like most big men would, he seemed to delight in using that attention against them. He wasn't just strong he was smart.

It was unsettling.

What high school player in Japan builds size like that and still maintains that level of skill? Imayoshi wondered. Even Murasakibara, with all his natural gifts, was a typical if extraordinarily tall and gifted basketball center. This was something else entirely. A frame that would look more at home on an NFL field than a Japanese high school court, yet here he was, casually picking apart defenses with passes that wouldn't look out of place from a guard.

A chill ran down Imayoshi's spine watching him play. A player who combined that frame with the finesse of a point guard a combination that shouldn't exist. Imayoshi had actually felt goosebumps rise on his arms watching one particular sequence. With three defenders swarming him in the post, the center had simply stood there, completely still. The defenders had hesitated, confused by his stillness, their confidence wavering as they realized even their combined weight couldn't move him. Then, with a calm that seemed almost insulting, he'd grabbed the ball firmly with both hands and launched it high over his head. The pass had seemed almost lazy, floating through the air longer than anyone expected, spinning slowly as if suspended in time. Just when the defenders had started to relax, thinking it was an errant throw, it had dropped perfectly to his cutting teammate for a thunderous dunk. The pass was so unexpected, so casually brilliant, that even Imayoshi had let out a quiet "oh?" of appreciation, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

He'd seen the upturn of Taro's lips after that play, to the barest hint of satisfaction at having completely fooled not just the defenders, but everyone in the gym. It reminded Imayoshi of a cat toying with its prey, though the center's face never betrayed more than that tiny suggestion of amusement.

"Quite the specimen," he murmured, casting a glance to his side. He didn't need to look far to see Shutoku's captain tense slightly, clearly unsettled by the performance.

"Makes you wonder what other surprises are waiting in the tournament this year."

The next school day had passed in a blur for Imayoshi. His mind was still locked on Ōnita High's center as he made his way to Touou's gym later that afternoon. His smirk shifted to a resigned sigh as he heard Wakamatsu's voice booming through the doors.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU MENACE!"

Imayoshi paused at the entrance with a knowing smirk. Their newest first-year was at it again, riling up Wakamatsu with his special brand of chaos. It had become something of a daily occurrence since their self-proclaimed 'genius' joined the team though 'joined' might be too orderly a word for how he'd burst into their lives, declaring himself a basketball prodigy despite having never played before high school.

"NYAHAHA! YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY NATURAL TALENT!"

He walked in to see their redheaded first-year struggling at the free throw line. He attempted to practice while dribbling and performing an elaborate routine of crossovers, spins, and jumps before shooting.

Predictably, the ball wasn't coming anywhere close to the rim.

"Sakuragi-kun," Momoi stood nearby, clipboard pressed against her forehead in what looked like physical pain. "Free throws are supposed to be taken while standing still..."

"But Momoi-san!" He paused mid-dribble, the ball escaping his grasp and rolling away. "A genius like me has to practice game situations! What if someone tries to block my free throw? I need to be ready!"

"No one can block free throws," Wakamatsu growled. "That's literally why they're called 'free'!"

"Hah! That's what they want you to think!" Sakuragi declared, retrieving the ball and preparing for another ridiculous attempt. This time, he added a behind-the-back dribble, only to trip over his own feet and send the ball sailing into the bleachers.

Momoi groaned.

"Momoi-san!" The redhead yelled as he got up, his face gaining a slight blush as he looked at her. "A genius like me has to improvise! How else will I show you I'm better than that lazy, good-for-nothing bum who only sleeps all day? A real basketball player practices, unlike some people!

Speaking of their ace, Aomine was actually present for once, laying down on the bleachers with his usual bored expression. At Sakuragi's declaration, he didn't even bother opening his eyes.

"Ha! You're such a pathetic loser that even Air Bud could school you." he drawled lazily. "But let's be real, the only one who can beat me is myself. So why don't you come talk to me when you can dribble without smacking yourself in the damn face."

"You heard what I said!" Sakuragi pointed dramatically at Aomine. "Just because Momoi-san says she's in love with you-"

"I never said that!" Momoi interjected, her face flushing. "I said I was in love with someone, and you just assumed..." Her eyes suddenly went distant and dreamy, a soft smile playing on her lips as she hugged her clipboard closer.

"SEE?! You're thinking about HIM right now!" Sakuragi jabbed an accusing finger at Aomine, his face turning as red as his hair. "Just because he's the team's ace doesn't mean anything"

"BUT- BUT-" Sakuragi's voice cracked as Momoi continued to sigh dreamily, completely lost in her own thoughts. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT REAL BASKETBALL LOOKS LIKE! WATCH THIS!"

He snatched up the ball and charged toward the free throw line, now adding what appeared to be a series of increasingly wild spins to his already impossible free throw routine.

Imayoshi cleared his throat, causing everyone to freeze. Well, almost everyone. Sakuragi continued spinning for a few more rotations before realizing the others had stopped.

"Captain!" He straightened up, swaying slightly from dizziness but puffing out his chest. "I was just showing everyone my new genius technique! I call it the Tornado Special! Once I master it, not even that Aomine will be able to stop me from the free throw line, and then Momoi-san will definitely-"

"Fifty suicides," Imayoshi said pleasantly.

"But-"

"Would you prefer a hundred?"

Grumbling, Sakuragi started running, though not without shouting back: "The genius Sakuragi doesn't need breaks anyway! I'll run two hundred suicides! Then Momoi-san will see who the real ace is! NYAHAHA!"

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING YOURSELF A GENIUS!" Wakamatsu took off after him.

Imayoshi settled on the bench next to Momoi, who was updating her data on their... enthusiastic first-year. Their newest addition had certainly brought an interesting energy to the team. After all, it wasn't every day that a complete basketball novice joined specifically to impress their manager, only to discover she was already in love with someone else and then decided to stay anyway, declaring he'd become the greatest player in Japan to win her love.

"Who could have guessed," Imayoshi mused, watching Sakuragi attempt to run backwards while making faces at Wakamatsu, "that we'd find someone who could actually make Aomine seem well-behaved?"

"I heard that," Aomine muttered from his perch.

"OI!" Sakuragi called out, somehow hearing them despite being halfway across the gym. "Are you comparing me to that lazy bum again? The only one who can beat me is me! Wait, no, that's his line... The only one who can be a genius is me! NYAHAHA!"

"That's not better!" Wakamatsu shouted.

Imayoshi chuckled softly. Yes, the upcoming tournament was certainly going to be interesting. He could already imagine Sakuragi's reaction to Onita's center, "The stoppable force versus the immovable object."

"Still," he murmured, watching their redheaded rookie attempt another spin move mid-run, "he might just surprise everyone."

"LOOK, MOMOI-SAN! I CAN RUN AND DO THE TORNADO AT THE SAME TIME!"

CRASH.

"After he learns to run in a straight line, that is."

Momoi sighed beside him, still scribbling notes on her clipboard, though her eyes flickered toward him curiously.

"You seem unusually thoughtful today," she remarked, glancing at him over the rim of her clipboard. "Did Senshinkan do something special? I know none of the Generation of Miracles went there."

Imayoshi let out a low chuckle, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Special?" he echoed, leaning forward slightly. "Hardly. They got destroyed. Completely dismantled by Onita High."

Momoi's pen froze mid-scribble.

"Onita?" she repeated slowly, disbelief creeping into her voice. "You're kidding. They're nothing special. Solid, sure, but not exactly a team to worry about."

"That's what I thought too," Imayoshi said, his smirk fading into something sharper, more curious. "But they've got a new piece. Their center Taro Sugimoto."

Momoi paused mid-scribble, her eyes narrowing. "Sugimoto? I've never heard of him. What do you know about him?"

Imayoshi leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"I didn't. Not during the game. But it bugged me. So, I spent most of last night digging around, trying to figure out who the hell this guy was. Stats, footage, old rosters, anything."

Momoi raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Imayoshi's smirk faltered, replaced by something colder, more intrigued.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No tournament records, no scouting reports, no mentions in middle school circuits." He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. "I don't think he even played in middle school."

Momoi's pen stopped mid-stroke. "Didn't play?"

"Not officially. No matches, no recorded stats. Yet here he is, dismantling Senshinkan like it's nothing."

Momoi tapped the edge of her clipboard thoughtfully. "So... is he like Muk-kun?"

Imayoshi chuckled quietly at the nickname for Murasakibara.

"No," he said flatly. "Murasakibara is pure size and dominance. Sugimoto? He's... different. He doesn't force anything. He moves slow. He doesn't even sprint or jump high, but you can't stop him. Defenders collapse on him, and he calmly passes out or scores like it's nothing. It's infuriating to watch."

Momoi's expression grew more serious. "So, he's smarter than Muk-kun?"

Imayoshi's smirk deepened, but there was a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, he's definitely smarter," he said smoothly. "But he's not like Murasakibara. Sugimoto isn't some unstoppable force who can bulldoze through teams on his own. He depends on his teammates to finish what he starts. But that's what makes him dangerous."

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly.

"He doesn't just overpower defenders, he manipulates them. Baits them into making mistakes, draws them in, and then punishes them. Not by himself, but by creating openings for his teammates. He' controls the rhythm of the game without ever needing to speed up."

Momoi's pen hovered over her clipboard, her eyes flicking toward Imayoshi with renewed interest.

"So, he makes the whole team better?" Momoi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Imayoshi's eyes flicked toward her, catching the subtle change in her tone. Her pen had stilled over the clipboard, the tip hovering just above the paper. She wasn't looking at him anymore.

She stared off, unfocused, eyes distant lost somewhere far away from the gym.

Her shoulders sank just slightly, the confident and composed manager slipping for the briefest moment.

Before Imayoshi could answer, Aomine's bored voice cut in from the bleachers.

"Tch, so he plays with the power of friendship? How inspiring."

Aomine scoffed, lazily tossing a basketball into the air and catching it without looking.

"Doesn't matter. He's probably slow and easy to predict. I could still beat him."

"Crap like that only works in anime."

Imayoshi chuckled under his breath but didn't take his eyes off of Momoi.

"Call it whatever you want," he said, smirk creeping back onto his face. "But it's working. And if we're smart, we'll figure him out before anyone else does."

Aomine didn't respond, closing his eyes again, completely disinterested.

Momoi, now fully focused, scribbled something quickly onto her clipboard.

"Taro Sugimoto. Alright, I'll look into him."

Imayoshi leaned back, satisfied.

As their conversation was finishing up, a loud CRASH echoed from across the gym.

"SAKURAGI! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Wakamatsu's furious shout rang out. Sakuragi was sprawled out on the floor under the hoop with a noticeable bump forming on his head, the ball nowhere in sight.

"I WAS PRACTICING MY DUNK DEFENSE!" Sakuragi shot back.

"YOU DON'T DEFEND DUNKS BY JUMPING INTO THE HOOP"

"GENIUSES THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!"

Momoi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Imayoshi chuckled but stayed focused.

"Anyway, I want you to go to some of Onita high's preliminary games. I want everything on Sugimoto how he moves, how they play through him. Everything."

Momoi nodded, already making a note.

Aomine yawned loudly from the bleachers.