It was a tie for last five minutes yet it seemed like forever until they finally reached a point further. The ball flew from one side to the other, both teams playing to their last breath. The cheers from both teams quieted down as they sat on the edge, visitors wondering just where would the ball fall to the ground first.

But neither of the team gave up. Sweat ran down their foreheads and backs and they were tired. Tired to jump. Tired to set. Tired to pass the ball. They were tired to stand and play. Yet they continued. They continued to play like it was the only thing. Like the while gymnasium disappeared and all there was were two teams, fighting. Like their lives were depending on it.

His brown eyes looked at the block in front and saw a gap, an opening. He spiked the ball towards the opening and it flew. The opponents running after it, trying to save the ball.

It was inches. Inches before they could receive and keep the ball in the air. Inches before their loss.

The whole gymnasium was quiet as the team looked to the score and then at the referee, who blew a whistle and announced the end of the game. Their expressions broke into wide smiles, tears seen in their eyes as they jumped on each other, players on the side joining along as coach slumped on the chair not believing the result. It was their moment.

They straightened up and stood in the line, against their opponents, who were bitter yet somehow satisfied that they played so hard.

They exchanged hands and congratulated each other.

The losing team turned around and left.

The winning team turned around and continued to cheer without realizing their middle blocker was looking elsewhere.

They walked away after many photos were taken of them, deciding to take a very short break before they are interviewed.
He stopped before the doors when he spotted his little sister, her orange-coloured hair brimming in the whole crowd. His smile widened and without a second thought he walked to the railing and wrapped an arm around her, her small arms hugging him back. He felt her warmth and her smile as she congratulated him. His parents were standing behind, both smiling proudly at their son, his mother even tearing up.

And he was satisfied and happy. He won. He became known as the Little Giant he wished to be while wearing proudly the number 10 on his back as a murder of crows was behind waiting to devour their destined and final rival.