Zelo kept writing in his notebook whenever he could; during breakfast, during school, during lunch, when Yongguk did his homework… He even tried to write during dinner, but then Heechul told him that he was being rude and antisocial, so he put it away.

Yongguk was getting more and more curious of what he was writing each day, until he didn’t have to be curious anymore. Zelo had been writing near nonstop for three whole weeks when the notebook suddenly appeared in his backpack. On the front, a green post-it was attached, telling Yongguk that he was to tell no one what was written in the notebook and that he was to give it back to Zelo as soon as he’d read it.

Confused, yet somehow even more curious, he opened it and began reading as soon as he had some free time. He realized a few sentences in that what he was reading was Zelo’s story.

~~~~

My name is Choi Junhong. I was born in the fifteenth of October 1996 — I’m almost nine years old. My parents weren’t old at all when they got me. Mom was sixteen, dad was eighteen. Mom was disowned by her parents and dad jumped off school to start working, so he could scrap together some money for a small apartment and food for the three of us.

My aunt offered to sometimes take care of me, so my parents could study, but she refused to have me at night. I don’t remember much, since I was so little, but I’m pretty sure it started already then, when I screamed at night and my parents couldn’t sleep enough.

My first memory is of dad screaming at mom. He screamed that if she could not get the baby, me, to stop screaming, he’d do it himself. And his methods were not as gentle as hers, I knew that instinctively.

She was crying, my mom, but she did her best to calm me, who was crying too. But dad scared me. He looked so angry, almost crazy. So I kept crying.

Until he hit me. I fell to the floor and was silent, shocked.

Then I started crying again and mom lost it as well. She got up from where she’d been sitting next to me and yelled at me to be silent.

Then they left, both of them. I cried until I fell asleep on the floor.

My next memory is of another time, when I also slept on the floor. I know it was another time, because I was a little bit older. Mom and dad were watching a movie; it was a scary movie, with lots of zombies in it.

The next day was my birthday. If I was lucky, I would receive a hug and a happy birthday, Junhong-ah! but I wasn’t so sure.

By now I knew better than to disturb my parents, especially if they were doing something important or something that they liked.

Like I suspected, my only birthday present was not being yelled at, not being hit or ordered to do things they were way too lazy to do.

They refused to put me in school. They said I didn’t need it. I think it was because they were scared — they knew what they were doing was wrong and didn’t want anyone to find out. They didn’t want me to realize that it was wrong, abnormal.

I was four years old when I learnt to be silent, because they would mostly yell at me for saying the wrong things. Or the right things at the wrong time. I learnt to keep quiet when they fought, when we ate, when they spoke… I learnt to keep quiet at all times, no matter what happened.

I realized the importance of this only the first time my dad really beat me. I can’t remember clearly what I had done to make him angry, but he was so, so pissed off. He stood above me and yelled at me, words shouted so quickly and loudly that they all melted together to a continuous sound.

He pulled me up then, so I was standing up. He asked me something and I answered what I thought he wanted, but he hit me. When he asked again, I tried another answer. None of the answers I came to think of worked and eventually I just stayed silent — it didn’t make much of a difference. I eventually passed out and he must have stopped soon after that.

~~~~

Yongguk had to put the notebook away. He just couldn’t read on. Tears were running down his cheeks and his throat was closed up. It was lucky he was at home, in bed. Zelo was downstairs, watching TV and Hankyung was cooking. Heechul was visiting a friend.

He sat completely still and stared at the opposite wall for a few minutes. He couldn’t imagine… It was simply impossible to imagine how someone could grow up like that, in such a violent environment. And still, Zelo had turned out to be this, adorable, naïve, good-hearted little boy.

He heard the silent, barely audible sound of Zelo’s feet against the floor and blinked a few times. When he managed to focus his gaze properly, he found Zelo standing in the doorway, a saddened expression on his face as he let out a soft sigh.

“Maybe you weren’t ready yet,” he murmured as he climbed onto the bed, carefully wiping Yongguk’s tears with the sleeve of his shirt. Yongguk closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince himself or Zelo, but he ultimately failed both. Zelo let out a quiet chuckle.

“No it’s not,” he corrected the older. “But we’ll have to live with it either way.”

To say that Yongguk was amazed was probably the understatement of the year. He couldn’t for the life of him understand how such a small boy could have gone through so much, but still ended up like this. Soft. Understanding.

Yongguk shared a silent look of understanding, acceptance and sorrow with Zelo before he pulled him into a tight hug. It was somehow calming to feel the boy’s heart beat against his chest, considerably slower and steadier than Yongguk’s own.

“I think dinner’s ready,” Zelo murmured after a few minutes in silence. Yongguk strained his ears to listen — sure enough, the sounds of Hankyung cooking had ceased. A few seconds later, he called for them. Yongguk chuckled.

“I think so too. Let’s go eat.”

He’d continue reading Zelo’s story tomorrow.

~~~~

The beatings got worse and more frequent. Words were something you were either very careful with or used as a weapon. I decided to treat mine as secret friends. I knew they must hate my dad from the way they so quickly fled from his mouth, but I was sure they loved me. They were always around me; in my head, in the air around me… They told me pretty stories and calmed me down.

One day when I was five years old, my aunt came to visit. Of course, my parents were immediately acting nice. I was so confused, even a little scared. I wondered why they weren’t angry at me anymore. Had I done something wrong?

My aunt didn’t fall for it. She seemed to sense that something was wrong and while my parents finished dinner in the kitchen, she followed me to my room to play with me.

Of course, I didn’t have any toys. She asked me about it and me, being the naïve little child I was, told her the truth. When she asked if I could take off my shirt so she could look at me, I did.

My body was littered with bruises and cuts. She gasped when she saw it, covering with her hand. It’s all so clear to me, even now, and I sometimes wonder if it should. I wish it wasn’t so clear, because what happened next is just as crystal clear to me.

My parents came into the room. When they noticed what was going on, they grabbed my aunt and pulled her away from me, into their bedroom. They left me alone in my room, but I could clearly hear what was going on inside the other room.

They killed her that day.

Still, I think my parents somehow loved me, in their own weird way. They did just not know what to do with a defenseless little child who seemed to cause nothing but troubles.

The first time I got to hear them say that they loved me was the time I almost died.

On the day after my fifth birthday, I saw two children passing by outside when I was playing in my room. They seemed to be having a lot of fun, so I thought I would join them. Only, my mother found me out before I even got the chance to and she told my dad, even if I begged her not to.

The beating was harder and lasted longer than any other. I eventually passed out, but he must have continued after that. The next thing I remember is mom crying into my hair, whispering ‘I love you, don’t die, I’m sorry’ into my ear over and over. Everything hurt and I passed out soon again.

When I woke up for real I was lying in my bed. My parents had a common childhood friend who was a doctor and they told me he’d saved me. They also said that if anyone asked, I’d been too eager to run outside, tripped and fallen down the stairs.

Years passed in the same manner. I learnt to do whatever my parents asked for and keep quiet, or I would receive a beating. If I did things I knew they liked without being told, I might even earn a smile or a thank you. Once, when I was really nice, I was even allowed to go out.

That was the day I realized that something was wrong. I saw other kids outside; kids that were playing with each other, laughing with their parents, hugging their parents… A kind young woman asked me where my parents were and I said they were at home, because they were really tired. I think the woman assumed they were sick and she called for her son, telling him that he should play with me.

The boy, I can’t remember his name, was really nice, but he kept talking about this cousin of his. In the end, I just asked him who his cousin was, because he wouldn’t stop bragging about him. The boy said his cousin’s name was Jiho and he was the coolest rapper in the whole entire world, even if he was just a little older than us.

After a while, his mother called again and said that she had to leave; but the boy’s cousin had kindly agreed to watch over us while we played. The boy was overjoyed when he realized that Jiho was there, and talked him into playing with us.

Jiho was eleven then, I was almost seven. He was really nice, even if he liked rap. The boy got him to rap for me and I realized he was right — Jiho was the coolest rapper in the whole entire world.

But then mom came to look for me and I had to go home. I almost started crying when she said we had to go home because dad was waiting for his dinner, but then I remembered she disliked it when I cried and managed to hold it in.

The next time I saw Jiho was a year later, when he rescued me. Again, it was just a few days after my birthday. After I met him and his little cousin outside that day, I had been thinking. I thought a lot, and eventually realized that my parents were wrong. The other kids’ parents did not beat them up, not ever. I had asked it to the boy I played with, and he was very shocked.

My first attempt of escaping was failed and I was beaten up almost as severely that time I nearly died. This time I managed to get through it without passing out by thinking of something else, something happy.

A lot later, when I was sure mom and dad were asleep, I sneaked out as quietly as I could. Once outside, I realized I had no idea where to go. I started walking in a random direction and eventually ended up at the playground where I’d met the boy and Jiho a year ago.

I probably would have died of hypothermia out there had Jiho not been walking his neighbors’ dog for some extra money.

“Hey,” he said. “I recognize you.”

I nodded with a half-smile and he moved closer. I wanted to say something, but the words built warnings in my head and I chose to stay silent. When Jiho came closer, his curiosity was replaced with shock.

“Oh my god,” he said, eyes wide, hand covering his mouth. “What happened to you? Are you okay? You have blood all over your face!”

That was one thing I had not thought of. I stayed silent while Jiho tried to pry my address and name out of me and eventually he decided to bring me home. While his parents were asleep, he cleaned me off and put me to bed.

He named me Zelo the following morning, the same morning I decided to not speak ever again.

The rest of the story goes something like this; Jiho’s parents found me out and became even more violent than they already were, both against Jiho and each other. Jiho left me to an older boy named Bang Yongguk. I was a little unsure of him at first, because he did not have the kindest of features, but he turned out to be one of the kindest people I could ever imagine meeting. Yongguk and his friends taught me how to read and write and I even found the will to speak again.

Words are still as precious to me as ever, but they no longer form red warnings when I attempt to open my mouth. Words are precious, but they’re necessary.

~~~~

No matter how much he’d tried to hold back, Yongguk was still crying when he finished reading Zelo’s story. It was late and Zelo was already asleep, so Yongguk buried his face in his pillow, trying to hide his sobs.

It was no use.

He was startled when he felt a fleeting touch along his back, but quickly realized it was only Zelo and rolled over. Zelo said nothing as he lay down on top of Yongguk, comforting him a great deal with his warmth and the regular sound of his breathing.

“Thank you,” Yongguk whispered when he calmed down. Zelo reached for the tissues in the drawer in the bedside table, attempting to dry Yongguk’s tears. Yongguk took the tissue from him and did it himself.

“I love you, you know that right? I’ll never…” Yongguk started, but Zelo placed a finger across his lips.

“I know, hyung. I love you, I trust you,” he whispered. Yongguk smiled through the darkness and Zelo grinned back.

“Will you tell me what happened when you disappeared, too?” Yongguk asked in a whisper after a moment of silence.

“Eventually,” Zelo promised as he lied down next to Yongguk, as closely as possible. “Let’s sleep now, hyung.”

They fell asleep with their arms wound tightly around each other and their legs intertwined. They slept through the shrill ring of the alarm clock and Heechul’s vicious snickers when he snapped a photo of them.

They didn’t wake up until Zelo rolled over Yongguk in his sleep and fell to the floor. He let out a groan as he landed painfully on the floor and Yongguk, feeling the emptiness beside him, opened his eyes.

“Zelo?” he voiced out, confusion shining through the sleepy roughness of his voice. Zelo sat up so his head appeared next to Yongguk and the older let out a sleepy chuckle.

“What are you doing on the floor? Come here.”

Zelo glared at him as he did as he was told, creeping down next to Yongguk and sticking ice cold feet against his skin in childish revenge, but only managing in eliciting another sleepy, deep chuckle.

“I fell, stupid,” he murmured. “By the way, isn’t today school day?”

It worked just like he wanted it to. Yongguk sat up straight and stared at the clock with wide eyes. It already showed one pm.

“!” he exclaimed. Zelo giggled behind him and Yongguk poked his ribs without looking back. “Oh well. School ends in a few hours anyway. Let’s sleep some more.”

Zelo was astonished. Yongguk was too, if he was to be honest. He was never one who felt good about skipping school, but today… It felt more important to be with Zelo, treasure the boy’s very being. His kind heart, his smiles and giggles, his deer eyes… All of it. Yongguk wanted to make him feel as loved as he possibly could.

They stayed in bed the entire day except for when they went to the bathroom and ate. They talked and joked. Yongguk was still the one who spoke the most, but he was glad for the words slipping out of Zelo’s mouth every now and then, even if they were sparse.

When Heechul and Hankyung came home, Heechul revealed he’d had to stop Hankyung from waking them up.

“Why didn’t you wake us? I missed a whole day of lessons!” Yongguk exclaimed, sending his hyung a dirty glare. Heechul sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Listen carefully, because I’ll only say this once — you were so adorable. Besides, I think everyone needs a day of complete relaxation every now and then.”

Yongguk was stunned enough by Heechul calling him ‘cute’ that he didn’t say anything for the rest of dinner. Heechul and Hankyung were uncharacteristically silent as well, but it wasn’t like Yongguk minded. It was nice not having their continuous chitter-chatter filling the kitchen.

Zelo was right, words were precious. He should treasure them a little bit more.