Tezcatlipoca stared at the little boy who wrote on the bathroom’s wall. Tiny pieces of colorful paper were stuck on the wall and he wrote on them as fast as his little hand could manage. He was racing, against time, and against the stream of water from the showerhead that mercilessly washed away all of the papers into the drain.

It was a vicious cycle. An endless battle to reclaim every precious thing the little boy held dear, all while ignoring his own loneliness and desperation. Tezcatlipoca had been watching him for a long time and knew that this was the battle he couldn’t win. Something didn’t allow him to. Perhaps for a distant spectator, it was more amusing that way, but for the god it was pointless cruelty.

It was never a fair battle, but the boy persisted anyway. He kept writing and writing, all of the things he loved the most and wanted to keep for eternity. He did it not for himself, but for the young man who sat motionless beside him. A young man who appeared to be a grown-up version of the little boy and yet he was not the same person as him.

The god’s lips formed a smile. “Even against the toughest adversary, you don’t falter and give up. I think I’m starting to like you,” said Tezcatlipoca, though he doubted both of them could hear him.

A piece of paper flew away from the wall. Tezcatlipoca caught it and read the word that was written on it.

“’Father’. What a lovely thing you cherish here.”

He gave both of them one last look.

“Too bad I couldn’t stay with you for too long, but I’ll keep this one with me.”

He tucked the paper inside his pocket and walked away from the scene. For some reason, he felt that their paths would cross again one day. Until that day came, he would help them protect that one simple thing that meant so much for them. After all, he was a god who answered the prayers of those who dedicated their life for a battle worth fighting.