The cafeteria felt different that day.
Still loud.
Still chaotic.
Still filled with clattering trays and excited voices.
But walking inside with him at my side made the chaos feel… quieter. Or maybe he was the one changing. His sparkles were calmer today — soft lavender with gentle waves of pink pulsing underneath. A new kind of confidence, delicate but present, hovered around him.
As we stepped into line, he stayed close, closer than yesterday. His shoulder brushed mine, not by accident — but because he didn't move away. Each accidental touch became intentional.
I could feel warmth radiating from him.
Or maybe it was just my heart.
We picked simple food — rice, soup, vegetables — and found our usual corner table. The corner where he first whispered pieces of himself into the world.
He set down his tray carefully, as if performing a ritual that required precision. Then he looked up at me, sparkles shimmering with a soft golden glow.
He'd gotten used to me watching him.
He didn't look away anymore.
---
A Quiet Start
He took a spoonful of soup, blew on it gently, and tasted it. His shoulders relaxed, sparkles warming.
I smiled. "Good?"
He nodded, then wrote:
"Not as good as yesterday's cookie, but okay."
I laughed softly. "Should I tell the girl she has competition?"
His sparkles flickered bright pink, startled.
He wrote quickly:
"No!"
Then, slower:
"… It was just good. That's all."
I rested my chin on my hand. "You're cute when you panic."
He almost choked on his soup.
His sparkles burst like a shaken snow globe — tiny gold flecks shooting through pink mist. He stared at me in stunned silence, cheeks faintly flushed, then immediately looked down at his tray to hide the color.
I bit back a smile.
Every reaction he gave felt like a gift he didn't know he was giving.
---
Something Unexpected Happens
A small group of boys walked into the cafeteria — loud, energetic, from the soccer team. Usually, their presence made him tense. Not because they were bullies, but because their volume hit him like a wave.
He stiffened slightly when he heard them.
But then—
"Hey! Haejun!" one of them called.
He froze mid-motion, spoon halfway to his mouth.
The boy waved. "Sup, man! The music club's talking about your piano again."
A few other boys nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, your name came up like, three times."
"Heard you're crazy good."
"You should totally play something for the school festival."
He stared, wide-eyed.
His sparkles flickered violently between silver and pink — overwhelmed.
He looked at me.
I whispered, "You don't have to answer. Just nod if you want."
After a moment…
he nodded.
The boys grinned.
"Cool! See you around!"
And they walked away, laughing and shoving each other in that loud, harmless way boys do.
He slowly lowered his spoon.
I waited.
He reached for his notebook with trembling fingers and wrote:
"Why… do they talk to me now?"
"Because you're letting light out," I said gently. "People see what shines."
His sparkles glowed faintly gold again — like a candle hesitating but refusing to go out.
He wrote another line:
"It's scary."
"I know."
He hesitated.
Then added:
"But… not bad scary."
I smiled. "Good scary?"
He nodded slowly.
---
The Conversation That Shifted Something
I took a bite of rice while he scribbled something hesitantly, then pushed the notebook slightly toward me.
"Do I seem… different to you too?"
I paused.
Then met his eyes.
"You seem happier," I said softly. "Less alone. Braver."
He lowered his gaze, sparkles trembling between pink and gold.
Then he wrote:
"Because you stay."
My breath caught.
The cafeteria noise softened, as if the world stepped away to give us space.
"Of course I stay," I whispered. "I told you — I want to."
He swallowed hard. Lightning-bright sparkles pulsed around him before settling into warm gold.
Then he wrote slowly:
"I've never had someone stay."
Something inside me cracked open.
"Haejun…" I said softly.
He shook his head. Wrote again:
"Not even in simple ways. People leave fast. Or forget fast."
He looked up at me, sparkles shimmering faintly.
"You don't."
I reached out without thinking — touching the back of his hand gently.
He froze.
But didn't pull away.
His sparkles erupted — gold swirling with soft pink like dawn breaking across a quiet sky.
I saw his fingers twitch, as if he wanted to turn his hand over and hold mine.
But he didn't.
Not yet.
Still too fragile.
Still too careful.
But he stayed.
And sometimes, staying is louder than touching.
---
Then Something Surprising Happens
While we were eating, a familiar girl approached — the same one who gave him cookies yesterday.
She held a small new paper bag tied with blue ribbon this time.
He tensed instantly.
Her smile was shy but warm. "Um… I made something different today. Since you liked yesterday's cookies."
She hesitated.
"Can I give them to you?"
He looked at me — eyes filled with panic.
I nodded slightly. "It's okay."
He swallowed, then took the bag with both hands, bowing his head slightly in gratitude.
Her smile brightened. "I hope you like them."
She turned to leave —
But then paused.
Looked at both of us.
And said quietly, "The way he glows when he's with you… it's kind of beautiful."
Then she left before I could respond.
I stared after her.
Then turned to him.
His sparkles had exploded — pink and gold swirling everywhere like fireworks trapped in a bubble. He looked traumatized, flustered, confused, embarrassed, overwhelmed — all at once.
I burst out laughing.
"W-Why—WHY did she say that?" he scribbled frantically.
"Because it's true."
His eyes widened dangerously.
His sparkles grew brighter — too bright.
His panic made them flicker violently.
He wrote again:
"I'm glowing???"
I stifled a laugh. "Yes. A lot."
He dropped his face into his hands.
A small sound escaped him.
A tiny, muffled, breathy noise.
A sound I had never heard from him.
It wasn't crying.
It wasn't fear.
It wasn't pain.
It was a laugh.
Soft.
Barely-there.
Fragile.
Beautiful.
Shock washed over me.
It was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh — even the smallest bit.
He realized it too, because his sparkles flared bright gold, then settled into warm rose.
He peeked up from his hands shyly, cheeks flushed.
"You—" I whispered, staring in disbelief, "—you laughed."
He panicked.
"No!" he wrote chaotically.
"Yes!" I grinned. "I heard it! It was cute!"
He hid his face again.
His sparkles swirled around him like glittering leaves in the wind.
For a moment…
he looked alive in a way I'd never seen.
Softness blooming across his expression.
Light dancing around him.
Warmth radiating like a tiny sun.
And I realized something then.
He wasn't just changing.
He was blooming.
Right here.
Right in front of me.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
Bravely.
And I wanted to watch every moment of it.