In a parallel universe, Woo Do Hwan is not a South Korean actor but a young man born in North Korea. Do Hwan's life has been a series of escape attempts, survival strategies, and small victories over hardship. Together with his mother, he fled North...
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The chill of December wrapped around Brussels like a heavy quilt, a layer of frost glinting under the weak winter sun. Do Hwan tightened his scarf against the biting cold as he approached the hospital doors, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. Inside, the warmth hit him immediately, and he pulled the scarf down from his face. Today was the day. After months of heartache and uncertainty, he was taking his son, Eo Jun, home.
"Good morning!" Nurse Marieke greeted him with her usual cheerful demeanour. She had been one of the many nurses who cared for Eo Jun during his long hospital stay.
"Good morning," Do Hwan replied, bowing slightly, a habit he couldn't shake even after months in Belgium. "Is he ready?"
Marieke nodded, her face softening. "He's more than ready. A little warrior, just like his father."
The words made Do Hwan's throat tighten. Warrior. If only she knew how many battles he had fought just to stand here. From fleeing North Korea to losing his mother in China, from being assaulted and finding himself pregnant, to fighting for Eo Jun's survival—every step had felt like a war. Yet here he was, standing on the threshold of a new chapter.
Marieke led him to the NICU, where Eo Jun was nestled in a bassinet. His tiny form, swaddled in a festive red blanket, looked impossibly fragile. His round face was serene, his eyelids fluttering as if dreaming. The sight of him still left Do Hwan breathless.
"Hi, my love," he whispered, crouching by the bassinet. He reached out a trembling hand to stroke his son's cheek. Eo Jun stirred slightly at the touch, his lips parting in a soft coo.
"He's gained another 200 grams this week," Claudine said, checking the chart at the end of the bassinet. "He's now 2.5 kilograms. A big milestone!"
Do Hwan smiled. "He's getting stronger every day."
The nurse nodded. "Remember, he'll still need the anti-seizure medication, and you'll have weekly checkups to monitor his cerebral palsy. But all things considered, he's made incredible progress."
"Thank you," Do Hwan said earnestly. "For everything."
As he carefully picked up Eo Jun, the baby stirred again, letting out a soft whimper before nestling into his father's chest. The warmth of his son's body against his own filled Do Hwan with a surge of fierce protectiveness.
Once all the discharge papers were signed and the medications packed into a small bag, Do Hwan bundled Eo Jun into a tiny snowsuit, making sure his little face was shielded from the cold. As he stepped out of the hospital, the reality of the moment hit him. For the first time in three months, they were going home.
Elise was waiting at the small apartment they shared, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air. She had gone all out to make their first Christmas together special, stringing lights along the walls and setting up a modest but cheerful Christmas tree in the corner of the living room.
"You're home!" she exclaimed as soon as Do Hwan walked in, her face lighting up at the sight of the baby. "And look at this little guy!"
"He's so tiny," she cooed, gently reaching out to touch Eo Jun's hand. The baby's fingers twitched in response, and Elise's smile widened. "I made cookies. You probably didn't eat all day again, did you?"
Do Hwan laughed softly. "I was too nervous."
Elise shook her head. "You've got to take care of yourself too, Do Hwan. You've been doing everything alone for so long. But now, you're not alone anymore."
He looked at her, gratitude welling up. Elise had been his lifeline since he found himself in Belgium, her kindness and strength keeping him afloat when he felt like drowning.
"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
"Hey," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're a team, remember? You and me and now little Eo Jun."
~
Do Hwan sat on the worn sofa, staring at the small tree adorned with mismatched ornaments. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the radiator and the occasional rustle from Eo Jun's crib.
He thought about the journey that had brought him here. The nights spent in terror in North Korea, the desperate flight to China, the heartbreak of losing his mother. And then, Belgium—a place that had been both a sanctuary and a battleground. The assault, the pregnancy, the fear of the unknown. Yet here he was, holding on to hope in the form of a fragile, tiny boy.
A soft cry broke the silence, and he hurried over to the crib. Eo Jun's face was scrunched up, his tiny fists waving in the air. Gently, Do Hwan lifted him, cradling him against his chest. The baby quieted almost immediately, his small body relaxing in his father's arms.
As he sat back down, rocking Eo Jun gently, he noticed Elise watching him from the doorway, a warm smile on her face.
"You're going to be a great dad," she said softly.
Do Hwan looked down at his son, his heart swelling with a mix of love and determination. "I'll try," he replied. "For him, I'll try."
Outside, the snow began to fall, blanketing the city in a soft, quiet white. Inside, for the first time in a long time, Woo Do Hwan felt a spark of peace. It was just the beginning, but for now, it was enough.
Elise handed him a wrapped package. "Here. I got this for you."
Do Hwan opened it carefully, revealing a journal with a leather cover. Inside, the first page bore a simple inscription: For the story of you and Eo Jun—because it's one worth telling.
Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at her. "Thank you."
That night, after Elise had gone to bed, Do Hwan sat on his bed with Eo Jun nestled in his arms. The baby had fallen asleep after his bottle, his tiny fists curled up by his face. Do Hwan stared down at him, the enormity of the moment washing over him.
"Eo Jun-ah," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. "You've been through so much, and you've been so strong. I promise I'll do everything I can to give you the life you deserve. It won't be easy, but we'll get through it. Together."
The room was quiet except for the soft sound of Eo Jun's breathing and the distant hum of cars outside. The snow had started falling again, coating the city in silence and serenity.
For the first time in a long while, Do Hwan felt a flicker of hope. Christmas was just around the corner, and for the first time since his arrival in Belgium, he didn't feel entirely alone.
This was a beginning. A fragile, tentative beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
