If emotions were invisible to the world, they weren't to me.
They shimmered—soft, delicate lights that curled gently around people like mist. Happiness glowed a bright yellow, anger pulsed in sharp red spikes, fear was a trembling grey fog. Love… love was the hardest to describe. It was warm, not hot; bright, not blinding. Like holding sunlight in your palms.
But what I saw on the first day of my transfer to Haneul High was none of those things.
It was something entirely different.
It sparkled.
I stepped through the school gates with my fingers curled around my backpack straps, whispering to myself, "It's fine, Mirae. New school, fresh start." My breath fogged lightly in the gentle spring air as students rushed by, chattering in bursts of light I couldn't ignore.
Most of them glowed in familiar patterns—bubbly yellows of friends reunited, anxious pinks from those hunting for their classrooms. Nothing unusual.
And then—
He appeared at the top of the first staircase.
A boy. Quiet-looking. Hands tucked into the straps of his dark backpack. His posture relaxed yet distant—someone used to blending into the background. His hair was dark and smooth, catching the sunlight in a soft halo.
But none of that struck me the way his light did.
Around his chest floated tiny, flickering specks of mint-green light, like little seeds drifting inside a watermelon slice when held under the sun.
They sparkled.
My breath hitched. What… was that?
He wasn't glowing like other people.
He was sparkling.
I blinked hard, thinking maybe my ability was malfunctioning. But no. The tiny glimmers continued to swirl softly, fading in and out like a quiet heartbeat.
Around me, the gossip began.
"That's Jin Haejun, right?"
"He never talks."
"Didn't you hear? He's half-deaf."
"He's so handsome though…"
Their lights flickered peach-pink—interest and curiosity mixed.
Mine? It probably looked like chaotic fireworks.
Because I couldn't stop staring.
Then life decided to be cruel.
A boy rushing past bumped my shoulder hard. "Move it, newbie!"
I stumbled forward—and crashed straight into him.
His backpack hit mine; my notebooks flew out. My hand slapped against his sleeve, and for one electric second, the sparkling light burst brighter—like fireflies startled from grass.
"I—I'm sorry!" I blurted, bowing so fast my hair hit my face. "I didn't see— I wasn't—"
When I looked up, he was already watching me.
His eyes were calm, deep brown, steady like a lake untouched by wind. Not cold. Not annoyed. Just… quiet.
He didn't say anything.
Instead, he reached behind his ear and adjusted a small device—sleek, discreet.
A hearing aid.
Ah.
He must've noticed my lips moving but heard nothing.
When he tapped it, the world's sounds returned for him—and for me, because for a moment it had felt like everything muted itself.
He gave a small nod.
Not "It's okay."
Not "Don't worry."
Just a simple acknowledgement—silent but warm.
I bowed again, cheeks burning. "S-sorry…"
He just stepped aside and continued walking.
Straight past me.
But his sparkles… they brushed my fingertips like a whisper.
I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to steady the strange rhythm in my heart.
I didn't know his name.
I didn't know his story.
I only knew one thing.
He was the first person whose heart-light sparkled.
---
Homeroom was a blur. I found a seat by the window and tried to breathe normally while people whispered around me.
When the teacher entered, he clapped his hands together. "Before we start, we have a transfer student today. Han Mirae, please introduce yourself."
I stood up, gave my usual cheerful smile. "Hello, I'm Han Mirae! Please take care of me!"
Soft yellow warmth radiated from the class. Friendly. Accepting.
Then the teacher said the words that ended my peaceful morning.
"We also have one more student transferring into this class from 2-B. Jin Haejun, please stand."
My head whipped up.
He was here?
He stood with quiet grace. No reaction to the whispers. No emotion showing.
Just calm.
Sparkling.
The teacher scanned the room. "There are two empty seats. Mirae, raise your hand."
My soul screamed.
He smiled. "Perfect. Haejun, sit beside her."
The boy made his way to the empty desk next to mine. His presence was so gentle yet so overwhelming I forgot to breathe.
He glanced at me—curious, polite.
I jerked my eyes to my notebook as if it were the most fascinating object on Earth.
Smooth, Mirae. So smooth.
---
Minutes passed in painful silence until a soft tap on my desk startled me.
A folded note.
I looked at him. He tilted his head slightly, encouraging me to read.
I opened it.
"Are you hurt?"
My cheeks warmed.
I wrote back quickly.
"No! I'm totally fine! I'm sorry for earlier!"
He read it.
A tiny, almost invisible smile curved on his lips.
Then he wrote:
"You apologized five times already."
I covered my face with my hands.
He wrote again.
"No need to be nervous."
…How was I supposed to NOT be nervous?
My pencil trembled as I wrote:
"I'm not nervous!"
He looked at my shaking letters.
Then at my face.
Then back at the letters.
Slowly, very slowly…
He smiled again.
This time, the sparkles around him glowed just a little brighter.
I didn't know it then—
but that small smile…
was the beginning of my entire world changing.