One Shots| Stray Kids

Touching the Stars (HyunjI.N.)

I.N. had never let his blindness define him. From a young age, he had learned to navigate the world using his other senses, embracing the sounds, textures, and smells that painted his reality. But his true passion was music. It was the one thing that made him feel truly alive, allowing him to express emotions that words alone could never capture. His voice was his gift, a talent that had brought him to the company where he now worked as a singer.

Despite his blindness, I.N. had carved out a place for himself in the industry. He was known for his calm and mature demeanor, a quiet confidence that belied his young age. He didn't need to see the world to understand it; he felt it, sensed it in ways others could only imagine.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He was a free spirit, a dancer whose movements were as fluid and unpredictable as the wind. Hyunjin was friendly, charming, and had an ego to match his talent. He was the kind of person who commanded attention when he walked into a room, his presence as vibrant as the music that filled the air. Yet, despite his exuberance, there was something about I.N. that fascinated him—something about the way the younger man carried himself, so calm and composed, that intrigued Hyunjin.

They had crossed paths several times within the company, exchanging polite greetings and brief conversations. But it wasn't until Hyunjin heard I.N. sing for the first time that he truly took notice. The purity of I.N.'s voice, the way it resonated with emotion, struck a chord deep within Hyunjin. It was a voice that could break hearts and mend them in the same breath, a voice that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

Hyunjin found himself drawn to I.N., seeking out opportunities to hear him sing, to be near him. It wasn't long before Hyunjin's initial curiosity blossomed into something more—a deep admiration for I.N.'s talent and a growing desire to know the person behind the voice.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, Hyunjin decided to approach I.N. more directly. He found the younger man sitting alone in one of the practice rooms, his hands gently tracing the keys of a piano as he hummed a melody.

"I.N.," Hyunjin called out, his voice soft but clear.

I.N. lifted his head at the sound, his expression calm as always. "Hyunjin," he replied with a small smile. "How was rehearsal?"

"Exhausting," Hyunjin admitted, dropping onto the bench beside him. "But worth it. How about you? What are you working on?"

"Just something new I've been playing with," I.N. said, his fingers dancing over the keys in a gentle, tentative melody. "Nothing concrete yet."

Hyunjin watched him for a moment, admiring the way I.N. seemed to pour himself into the music, even when it was just a simple tune. "I've always been amazed by how you do that," Hyunjin said, his voice laced with genuine admiration. "How you create such beautiful music without even seeing the notes."

I.N. smiled softly, a hint of amusement in his expression. "I don't need to see the notes to feel the music," he said. "It's all about emotion, about letting the music guide you."

Hyunjin nodded, understanding. He, too, knew what it was like to be guided by emotion, to let the rhythm of a song dictate the movement of his body. "You know," Hyunjin began, a thought forming in his mind, "I've always wondered what it would be like to see the world the way you do—to experience it through touch, sound, and emotion instead of sight."

I.N. tilted his head, intrigued. "And I've always wondered what it would be like to see the way you move when you dance," he said quietly. "I've heard people talk about it, about how you seem to become one with the music. I can't see it, but I can imagine it. I can almost feel the air shift when you move."