The air inside gymnasium No. 1 was already thick with pre-game tension. It was not the stifling kind of stillness, but rather like a fully drawn bowstring, every wisp of air taut with the sense of something about to erupt.
Ryonan and Shohoku's players returned to their respective benches. Before the seats had even warmed beneath them, the referee at courtside checked his watch and raised a hand, signaling for both teams to begin warming up.
When warm-up time arrived, the players from both sides stepped onto the court almost simultaneously.
Ryonan's players still wore their familiar white jerseys, while Shohoku wore their signature red uniforms.
The white and red looked like two distinct clusters of flame, their boundary clear without any need to deliberately distinguish them. Even the air seemed to carry a silent contest.
Within half a minute, the gymnasium had grown lively. Sounds rose and fell across the court: basketballs pounding the floor and sneakers scraping against the hardwood. They sounded one after another, like a prelude beating out the rhythm for the coming clash. In the spacious arena, every sound was especially clear, each one seeming to strike the hearts of everyone present.
At the start of the warm-up, both teams appeared exceptionally calm. Yet this calmness was not relaxation; it was more like the brewing stillness before a storm.
Ryonan's players stood on one side of the court, while Shohoku's occupied the other. Neither side approached the other, and no one took the initiative to speak. There was none of the usual pre-game taunting. Even the players who normally loved to joke around merely sat there, focused on stretching, their faces devoid of any unnecessary expression.
As the warm-up got underway, the clang of dunks and the swish of basketballs brushing through the net began