The birds whistled through the singing winds which headed the opposite direction. Byungjoo sat at the bus stop earlier than usual, fixing his study at the sky passed the suns countless of beaming lines that glare into his eyes, until a figure casted over him. He adjusted his watch to a smiling Xero, holding a freshly creased paper with both hands to his stomach.
"What's that?"
The boy extended his arms, giving the note to Byungjoo with the same smile locked on his face.
He opened the note as Xero took the seat next to him:
 

Byungjoo,
Your uncle is a wise one, as well as your nana.
I ask of you not to hold an interest in me as a self kept promise of silence for the man from the bridge over heavy waters. Instead I am a spirit who wanders the streets of broken people.
I call myself Xero as I am of no value, with an X to stitch my mouth.

Xero
 

"The man from the bridge over heavy waters..?" Byungjoo frowned in attempts to process the message, but turned to face Xero instead with a look of concern. "Why would you think you are of no value..?"
Xero's smile steadily faded, and he faced away from Byungjoo who in return gripped his shoulder to pull him back.
"You know I had something bad happen to me too..." He flicked his tongue as he pushed himself to proceed. "When I was twelve, I was taken away by Child Protective Services because my mom went to prison for stealing Guns." Xero eased  up, lowering his shoulders as he analyzed Byungjoo's words. "I never knew my dad... I was an awful kid in school when I got adopted." He paused for a moment. "I always thought everything was my fault until I realized that life isn't really about you... It's about how you grow and develop, and teach yourself how to be a better person for other people. Because at the end of the day, it's others who give you the will to keep going. It's everybody else but you, who keeps yourself from going nuts on those dark, dark days where you pray to seize to exist. So to me, you are of value, because you've kept me from doing all of those things these last few days."

The bus arrived, but the only thing Xero could do was look into Byungjoo's eyes. The boy pulled his arms as he went to step on the bus, shaking his head while begging for him to stay.
"I... You want me to stay?"
Xero nodded his head.
"I have work, I..." Byungjoo hesitated, then signaled the bus driver to move on with sigh. "I have to call in."

 

　 　The two arrived at Xero's home after a dreadful walk of silence. Byungjoo immediately started to touch everything.
"Whoah! You played Hockey!" He said as he stared through a clear translucent trophy with Xero's name engraved on a golden plague at the bottom. "You still play?"
He shrugged, tilting his head.
"Let's go!" Byungjoo clapped his hands, sprinting through the house.

Xero quickly arrived to the backyard's patio with two hockey sticks and a puck where Byungjoo had waited.
"Home verses away, Dirty Diapers verses Arctic Wolves, GO!"
Xero laughed and chased after the puck, shoulder wrestling with Byungjoo while sneaking a move in between his legs and scoring a point for himself.
"Awww!" Byungjoo let his head fall back in disappointment, flailing his arms. "I thought you'd be rusty."
Xero flicked his head, positioning himself for the next turn as he waited for the puck to make its way back.
"Dirty Diapers two, Artic Wolves zero."

 

　 　The afternoon trains began to whistle, and the sun began to set, generating a gentle breeze as Xero and Byungjoo eventually turned their Hockey game into a wrestling escapade.
Xero couldn't stop laughing, climbing to a degree in which he had mistakenly let out a vocal. Byungjoo stopped as he heard Xero's voice for the first time—despite it only being a laugh—and rolled off of him to sit up. The dark haired boy became tense.
"You..." Byungjoo stuttered. "I didn't mean... For that..."
Xero didn't bother to listen, and sprinted back inside the house.
"No, Xero! Come on, it was only a laugh!" He chased after him with worry, only to be welcomed by the bathroom door being slammed in his face.

Byungjoo gradually paced through the house, finding his way to Xero's bedroom. Out of curiousity, he looked over his desk peeking through a pile of handwritten notes, grabbing at a corner of a note that had stole his attention:
 

I hate myself. I loathe myself. I despise myself. I dislike myself.
 

The words were written over and over again, clearing the entire front and back page. Byungjoo crumbled the paper and stomped to the bathroom with the garbage in hand, pounding on the door as if it didn't open soon, he would bust in.
"Xero, open the goddamn door!"
The boy gave a quick twist in the knob, leaving Byungjoo to kick it open.
"This," He held the balled up paper to his face, afterwards throwing it at him. "isn't going to help you get through whatever the happened back then. Grow up Xero!"

Xero slid his back against the bathroom's wall in tears as Byungjoo guided himself out of the house, slamming the door behind him.