My Youth episodes 5–6 (midseason) review — Confessions, rare illness, and the weight of time

Scene from My Youth | Images via: Viki | Collage by: Beatrix Kondo of Soap Central
Scene from My Youth | Images via: Viki | Collage by: Beatrix Kondo of Soap Central

The double bill of My Youth this week stretches beyond the length of a feature film, with each episode running close to seventy minutes and together asking for more than two hours of focus. Episodes 5 and 6 lean into the show’s preference for detail, memory, and silence, yet what truly makes them resonate is that Sung Je-yeon finally confesses her feelings for Sunwoo Hae. The moment arrives just a little after he learns about his rare and serious illness, and the result is both tender and unsettling.

My Youth thrives on the space between what characters reveal and what they hold back. Je-yeon’s confession carries the weight of years, not the impulsiveness of adolescence. Speaking her truth feels like release, but the timing fills the moment with unease. The series shows how adulthood often makes love both harder to admit and harder to sustain, layering joy with dread in a way that defines these two chapters.

Confession that shifts everything

Je-yeon’s admission comes after so much hesitation that the scene lands with intensity. Sunwoo Hae receives her words with visible relief, letting joy break through after so much hesitation. For a moment the weight lifts, and the happiness in his expression makes the confession land with warmth. Yet the diagnosis still shadows everything, resting unspoken between them. Love finally rises to the surface, but we feel the pressure of what remains unsaid.

Every glance now carries extra meaning, and every gesture feels charged. The show turns restraint into its most powerful tool. Je-yeon’s courage collides with Hae’s decision to shield her from the truth, and that collision gives these episodes their ache. My Youth makes the smallest pauses speak louder than dialogue, and the confession becomes unforgettable because of everything left hanging in the air.

Illness as a turning point

Hae’s illness emerges not as a clear countdown but as a foggy horizon. He may falter tomorrow, or he may continue for years with the risk always hovering. That uncertainty reshapes how he sees himself, how he looks at Je-yeon, and how he imagines a shared future. Instead of leaning on dramatic collapse, My Youth builds looming pressure, exploring how fear and tenderness intertwine when the future offers no certainty.

His instinct to distance himself from Je-yeon reflects care as much as fear. By stepping away, he believes he can spare her pain, yet the gesture reveals how deeply he values her presence. My Youth uses this turn to highlight how love can transform into sacrifice, and how sacrifice itself becomes another expression of love.

The secondary couple brings balance

Mo Tae-rin and Kim Seok-ju continue to grow into a gentle counterpoint. Their connection glows with warmth and steadiness, offering a rhythm that softens the main couple’s turmoil. Tae-rin carries composure, while Seok-ju brings caution that slowly eases in her company. Together they allow the story to breathe without losing its intensity.

Their presence feels woven into the structure rather than tacked on. Through them, My Youth offers lighter moments that remind us love can grow in gentler rhythms. These chapters benefit from that balance, ensuring the narrative doesn’t collapse under its own emotional weight.

Pacing that strains the audience

Each episode of My Youth stretches close to seventy minutes, and when placed back to back the length begins to work against the story. The drama repeats certain beats: long stares, lingering flashbacks, and delayed conversations that extend beyond what the emotion requires. The impact remains strong, but the rhythm slows too much, and patience begins to fray. The black-and-white with a tinge of color flashback though? The cut-out effect? Marvellous indeed!

A tighter cut, however, could sharpen the narrative while keeping the emotional charge. Even trimming ten minutes per episode would let the story breathe without exhausting the audience. As it stands, My Youth demands endurance, and watching two episodes in one sitting feels heavier than the content itself.

Why My Youth still holds

Despite the heavy pacing, My Youth offers characters that feel layered and alive. Je-yeon and Hae’s connection aches with honesty, while Tae-rin and Seok-ju provide a softer mirror of affection.

The confession anchors the arc, the illness raises the stakes of the melodrama, and the emotional charge carries through with sincerity. For viewers willing to stay, the payoff lies in watching characters who stumble, hope, and care with depth.

The preview for the upcoming episodes hints at collapse, confrontation, and long-suppressed truths, yet it also suggests tenderness won’t vanish. My Youth asks for patience, and in these episodes patience stretched thin, but the story continues to reward commitment with fragile hope that makes the journey worth following.

Rating with a touch of flair: 4 out of 5 confessions whispered too late, heavy with both hope and dread.

Edited by Beatrix Kondo