The smells of Christmas spice, mulled wine and gingerbread layering on Yoon Se-ri's floral scent were coming together as a foreign yet familiar comfort which Ri Jeong Hyeok was starting to commit to memory.
Lingering in the toasty warmth of their apartment were remnants of festive joy, as seen from random bits of Christmas present wrappings, forgotten party hats, and a sizable mountain of used dishes, pots and pans waiting in the kitchen sink.
It would typically make sense to hold family gatherings at the Yoon family's manor, but as their newborn son Jeong Hwan was too little to go out into the cold at a month and fourteen days old, the party was hosted by Se-ri at their apartment instead.
It was the pianist's first Christmas as a citizen of the Republic of Korea, and also, his first one as a father.
Everything felt surreal, dream-like; he was physically present at the Christmas gathering, yet it felt like his heart had stepped outside.
The joyous echoes of 'Merry Christmas' reverberating in the apartment.
The smiling faces of the Yoon family members, recognizable but nonetheless unfamiliar, filing through their door.
The warm hugs he was receiving and politely giving, from this small group of people who was suddenly his closest kin in this foreign land.
The doting smiles and gentle coos at the tiny bundle in his arms.
The seemingly endless group photos.
The cheerful toasts, and the homely conversations in which he struggled to participate.
The South Korean accent, and his subsequent personal dilemma— should he be mimicking it as he had learnt in Hanawon with other defectors, or should he just speak in his native tongue?
It was supposed to be a season of joy, a time for love and cheer, and a time to make memories to last throughout the year.
North Koreans do not typically celebrate Christmas; the majority does not even know of its existence. Even when he was studying in Switzerland, he had always experienced the festive holidays as an outsider.
The last time Jeong Hyeok had come close to celebrating Christmas with a loved one was with Se-ri back in North Korea. He remembered the heart-shaped card and the shrub which she had moved into the living room and decorated like a Christmas tree.
But that day too, had gone horribly wrong.
Se-ri had been taken from him, and there was the sound of that gunshot over the phone. His world had been shot into smithereens back then, and it was one of the rare times in life when Jeong Hyeok truly feared.
Understandably, Christmas isn't Jeong Hyeok's favorite festive holiday.
After all their guests had left, the couple sat by the Christmas tree with their infant son, soaking in a quiet moment as a family of three.
"Are you feeling better?" Came Se-ri's voice, reaching out like a warm hand through the bitter snowstorm in his heart.
She didn't ask if he was alright; she already knew he wasn't.
Gazing down at the baby's peaceful, angelic visage, the former North Korean soldier was filled with emotions that he struggled to put into words.
Ri Jeong Hyeok— ex-soldier, defector, unfilial son, he silently thought. Spending Christmas with his new family had magnified the guilt that he felt over leaving his parents behind in the North.
Even as he held his infant son in his hands, Jeong Hyeok wasn't quite sure if these tainted hands and soul were worthy of the purity that was Jeong Hwan.
Guilt gnawed at him, trapping him in a constant moral dilemma which he could not seem to find a way out of.
In the next second, he felt a pair of hands gently cup his cheeks, bringing him closer such that his forehead leaned against hers.
Her thumbs rubbed his cheeks comfortingly, as if sensing his inner turmoil.
Just like many years ago, when she had sang "When the cold wind blows by" ahead of her intended departure from North Korea, the South Korean heiress gently sang in English.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light."
As a music student, Jeong Hyeok had performed this song for Christmas events in the past, but its lyrics had never hit his be at heart as hard as they did now.
Burdened by the ghosts of his past, Jeong Hyeok grappled with embracing happiness, even when he now had it right in front of his eyes.
Repeated separations, against a backdrop of seemingly endless agony, had scarred him more than he dared to imagine.
Nagging fear constantly lurked at the back of his head, one that constantly threatened to rob him of whatever happiness he allowed himself to enjoy.
"From now on,
Our troubles will be out of sight."
Looking up from Jeong Hwan's face, the pianist felt his eyes well up with unshed tears as he locked gazes with his wife.
The journey of defection from North Korea hadn't been easy at any point, but Se-ri had always been by his side to witness his vulnerability, and pick the pieces up.
Every step of this journey had been a meticulously calculated one— from the time he had brought her on the surprise trip to the old Swiss town of Bern where the South Korean embassy was, to the time he was taken into custody by South Korea's NIS and subsequently, sent to Hanawon.
Jeong Hyeok had at times, felt utterly powerless in the face of the winds of change he had voluntarily let into his life.
Maybe the world thought otherwise, but Se-ri always knew he wasn't always the Avenger he tried to be.
"Do you really think so?" He interrupted, his voice hoarse with emotion.
The heiress maintained their eye contact, in a silent prompt for him to continue.
"Can I be a good father to this child? I am a defector, a traitor. I deserted my parents. In this season of giving, what is it that I can give to this child?"
Eyes sparkling with a thin film of tears that mirrored her husband's, Se-ri smiled.
"You have already given us the greatest presents."
Pressing her lips against his in a mulled wine-flavored kiss, the heiress continued, "Your defection might have taken a son from your parents, but it has also given me a husband, and to Jeong Hwan, a father."
"More importantly, you gave us a family." Se-ri's voice broke, watery eyes glistening with the reflections of golden fairy lights from their tree. "Like a gift, you came into my life, and since then, you have never stopped giving. For this, I cannot thank you enough."
"Through the years
We all will be together
If the fates allow"
Thankfully, after putting the star-crossed lovers through the most agonizing trials and tribulations, Fate had finally cut Ri Jeong Hyeok and Yoon Se-ri some slack.
"Daddy? Daddy!"
Jolted from his memories, Jeong Hyeok gazed down upon his little boy, whose smile shone as radiantly as the golden star held in his hands.
"I caught you spacing out!" Jeong Hwan said excitedly, as his father nodded with an indulgent smile.
"Oh no, was it that obvious?" The pianist played along, smiling as he elicited laughter from his eight year-old.
"What were you thinking about?" The little boy asked, watching excitedly as Jeong Hyeok fitted the star on the top of the Christmas tree in their living room.
"The time when I held the best Christmas gift in my hands, right here, by this Christmas tree."
"What was it, Daddy? Was it a Nintendo game set? A piano? A plushie? Who was it from?" Curious, Jeong Hwan continued asking, as the pianist patted his firstborn affectionately on the head.
"It was from Mommy. My gift wasn't exactly a plushie, but it was just about as cute as one."
The little boy's eyes lit up. "Do you still have it? Is it the squishy, soft type?"
"It used to be rather squishy, like a marshmallow, but no longer. My gift grew very much taller." Jeong Hyeok replied patiently with a loving smile, running his eyes over his firstborn's lanky frame. "And yes. I'll always have it with me, no matter where it decides to go in future."
"Because you keep it in your heart? Just like how Grandma Yoon Hee said we are always in hers?"
Once again, his little boy had managed to surprise him in the most heartwarming of ways.
"A gift that is like a plushie, that grew from squishy to being tall...what a strange gift you've received, Daddy."
That got a chuckle from Jeong Hyeok, who took a step back to admire the completed decorations on their Christmas tree.
"So hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now"