The Story of Jo Majun
J o Majun loved everything about his dear wife, including the things she couldn’t stand about herself—the freckles scattered like starlight on her heart-shaped face, the unruly waves of her long and thick sunlight locks, and the way she spoke Korean so delicately.
In Majun’s eyes, Gemma was perfection and the only person who made him feel complete. She was the lens to his camera, and he could not function without her.
But he could not break his promise to her either.
“Please save our babies, Majun. Both of them,” her last words echoed in his mind every night, like a boundless nightmare, intent on plunging him into insanity.
“Imagine if I were an animal. Which one do you think I’d be?” Gemma had asked him on their first date.
By this time, Majun had already observed her enough to at least know how much she adored animals. Gemma always talked about how precious they were and how they deserved everything good the world had to offer. She was a veterinarian assistant, after all. Majun, in contrast, was the photographer her boss had hired to capture moments within the walls of the vet clinic. And the more Majun learned about Gemma, the more he wanted to impress her. So, one day, he bought himself a bestiary at the bookstore. He devoured all the pages for weeks, hoping to enhance his knowledge about animals.
The day before her birthday, he asked her out.
He brought her to a place hidden within the forest, an otherworldly bridge filled with fireflies and lilac trees.
“I think you’d be a doe,” Majun replied after a few moments of ruminating, “with antlers.”
“A doe with antlers?” Gemma echoed, laughing sweetly as a purple petal landed on her sunlight locks. “Do they even exist? I’ve never seen one.”
“They do, but they’re rare.” Majun lifted the lavender petal perched over her head as he thought back to when he first witnessed Gemma save a stray dog’s life on the street and take it into her home. Another memory etched in his mind was when she fearlessly defended him against his colleagues and told them about how the photo he took of the vet playing fetch with a golden retriever inspired countless people to volunteer and donate to the clinic. On both occasions, her light was unmistakable, and that was why he fell so hard for her.
“Just like you, Gem,” Majun said. “You are beauty and grace, purity and kindness, but also bold and powerful. You’re rare, and that makes you the perfect doe.”
Gemma’s gaze settled on him so lovingly, so deeply. There was a pause, but not long after, she kissed him.
It was their first kiss.
And all he wanted to do was hold her, dream of her, marry her, and have kids together.
Soon enough, they welcomed their first son into their lives and named him Woohyun.
Majun and Gemma’s bond remained solid, both as husband and wife and as parents, but everything else changed.
Gemma had to quit her job to devote her time to their first child, and Majun had to work overtime after getting promoted to film director.
For the first few years, Majun tried to win his son’s heart. He’d take them out on a date every weekend, go to the beach and teach Woohyun how to swim, buying the boy whatever he wanted. Nonetheless, Majun could never compete with Woohyun’s love for his mother.
It almost seemed like an obsession, the way Woohyun needed Gemma to focus only on him.
Majun didn’t say anything about it.
He didn’t say anything when he discovered one of Woohyun’s weird pastimes either, like watching a stray cat’s fading breath with an amused smile adorning his face.
It wasn’t until much later that Majun began considering the possibility of jealousy behind Woohyun’s unusual actions. It was the cat Gemma most loved to feed, after all.
Majun thought it would go away as he got older.
However, as Woohyun turned five, six, and then seven, the situation only seemed to worsen, more so when Gemma became pregnant with their second child.
“Why isn’t eomma playing with me anymore?” Woohyun asked once while they were finishing homework.
“She’s just not feeling well, son,” Majun replied, crossing out the wrong answer on Woohyun’s paper.
“Is it because of that baby?” Woohyun’s face darkened.
Majun paused. “You mean, your baby brother?” he asked before writing the correct answer next to the word he had struck through.
“Yeah, whatever,” Woohyun nonchalantly said as Majun continued to ignore the signs before him.
The following day, after a business trip, he found Gemma sprawled on the floor by the staircase, her pink maternity dress and long hair soaked in scarlet.
Majun ran to her side, checking her pulse in panic. She was still breathing, albeit barely.
When he looked up, though, Woohyun was staring down at them from the second floor, his expression neutral.
Gemma must have seen the fear and disbelief simmering in Majun’s eyes, because she held his hand right away and whispered her last words to him, “It’s okay. It’s all right.” She even managed to crack a weak and pensive grin. “Just please save our babies, Majun. Both of them.”
Gemma and Woohyun didn’t have to say a word about what actually happened. Majun already knew. But even so, there was nothing he could do about it. He made a promise to his dying wife. And so he acted foolishly.
Seven years sped by. Majun managed to keep the past behind him locked away, allowing both Woohyun and his youngest son, Wooju, to survive.
Maybe, but not for long. That, he was also aware of.
“Why isn’t hyung with us today? Is he sick again? He didn’t look well yesterday,” Wooju said with doe eyes, holding a sketch pad close to his heart. “But he promised he won’t miss my birthday, right?”
“He’ll be here,” Majun assured, lowering himself to Wooju’s eye level. “He’s probably out to buy you presents.” He ruffled the boy’s dark, wavy hair when suddenly, a heavy weight settled in his chest.
Wooju turned seven today, and not once did the boy celebrate it without having to go to the cemetery to see his mom or the bridge where his dad reminisced about her.
“Your brother just needs a little help,” Majun tried to explain, his mind drifting. They were supposed to meet Woohyun at this bridge before heading to the cemetery, but his eldest had been unreachable since morning.
“What kind of help? He already has us, doesn’t he?”
“Of course. That’s why we’re here, waiting for him.”
“Then, can you tell him I want a Christmas tree for my birthday?”
Majun nodded despite doubt clouding his expression, then he took one of Wooju’s hands and intertwined their fingers. “Listen, Wooju,” he said. “When you grow up, I want you to know that it’s okay.”
“What’s okay?”
“It’s okay if you can’t stay with us. With me and your brother. It’s okay if you leave and choose you .”
Wooju tipped his head in confusion. “Why would I do that? I’m happy being with you and hyung.”
“You might get hurt one day if you stay.”
Wooju blinked, then as if he understood, as if he didn’t mind the impending agony, he said, “It’s okay, Appa. I’m not scared. Pain is not forever, but family is. Here.” He presented a drawing to his dad.
It was an antlered doe. It was Gemma, or at least, what she could’ve been if she were an animal.
“This drawing,” Wooju started, tracing the lines with a smile, “came from a dream I had last night. Appa, I think it’s an angel watching over me. In the dream, it told me that everything will be okay. It even hummed a lullaby for me. It was something about fireflies, I think.”
Majun reached out to touch the paper, and tears quickly gathered in his eyes as he recognized the majestic being in the drawing. He turned his gaze back to his youngest son, a small smile unfolding on his face.
“Wooju,” he breathed, his tone gentle and yet heavy with dread. “If I end up leaving for a long trip and I don’t return to your side on time, you know where to find me if you ever need me, right?”
“Of course,” said Wooju, beaming innocently under the sun’s caress. “You said I’ll find you where fireflies dwell.”
Majun’s smile widened. “That’s right,” he managed to say in a strained voice. “Just find me where fireflies dwell, my son.”
One day, the pain will go away.
One day, everything will be okay.
One day, someday, love will find its way.
One day, someday, where fireflies dwell.