Youth of May Review: A Spring Romance in a Story That Forgot Everything Else
A fleeting spring romance that bloomed beautifully, even if the world around it never fully came into focus.
Korean Drama Name: 오월의 청춘 (Youth of May)
Where To Watch: Viki, Amazon Prime, Netflix ← *Click for direct link*
Average Rating: 8.7/10 (Mydramalist)
My Rating: 7.0/10
One Sentence Description: A beautiful love story blooming in May, overshadowed by underdeveloped characters and a half‑explored uprising.
Trailer (Teaser):
Disclaimer: This review is 100% my opinion — I’m not here to hate, just to share my thoughts! Also, SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution if you haven’t watched yet. Watch it, come back and let’s see if you agree. Let’s keep the discussion respectful and fun! 💕
Simple Description
Youth of May follows two people falling in love during the 1980 Gwangju Uprising, a time when hope, fear, and resistance collided in every corner of the city.
⚠️Length Note: This post includes a detailed (and long) story breakdown. Want to skip straight to the review? Jump to the Review
The show opens in the present day with the discovery of human remains at a construction site. As the police send the bones for identification, a man watching the news at a train station breaks down in tears — a quiet hint that the past is about to resurface.
We then shift back to 1980, where protests flood the streets as students fight to free their wrongfully imprisoned classmates. Amid the chaos, we meet our male lead, Hwang Hee Tae, driving to a dealership to sell his car.
From there, he heads to the hospital, where he watches doctors rush into the ICU after an alarm sounds. Hee Tae has been visiting someone important to him, and he’s told she may not survive. When she briefly wakes and says she wants to go home, he promises to make it happen. Unfortunately, the doctors refuse to approve her transfer. He needs money, and he needs it fast.
We then meet our female lead, Kim Myung Hee, who works as a nurse. After standing up to a creepy patient, she’s sent to the director’s office to explain herself. That’s where she runs into Hee Tae, who happens to be there for his own reasons. Long story short, Myung Hee is sent home, and Hee Tae still can’t get the transfer he needs.
On her way home, Myung Hee runs into her friend, Lee Soo Ryun, and Soo Ryun’s brother, Lee Soo Chan. Around the same time, Myung Hee receives a letter of acceptance to a university, while Hee Tae moves back into his school dorm.
That night, Hee Tae is woken up by his father, Hwang Ki Nam, who demands that he move back home. Hee Tae agrees — and even agrees to do whatever his father wants — as long as his father gives him the money he needs. His father accepts, starting with arranging a blind date.
Elsewhere, Soo Ryun is arrested for breaking into her father’s factory to print protest flyers. When she’s released, her father is furious and forces her to attend a blind date as punishment. Desperate for money to pay for her plane ticket to university, Myung Hee agrees to go on the blind date in Soo Ryun’s place. The deal is simple: three dates, then she ends it.
When the day of the first date arrives, Hee Tae is on his way to the restaurant when he witnesses a boy getting hit by a car. Myung Hee rushes over, wraps the boy’s arm, and makes sure he’s okay. Meanwhile, Hee Tae sits alone at the restaurant, unable to stop thinking about her. And then, right on time, Myung Hee sits down across from him and introduces herself as Lee Soo Ryun. Now the story truly begins.
Before their first meeting, Myung Hee and Soo Ryun come up with a plan to make Myung Hee the worst date possible. Unfortunately, every attempt she makes to scare Hee Tae off completely backfires. Instead of being put off, Hee Tae enjoys himself and the date ends with him gifting her a new pair of shoes.
The next day, Hee Tae’s father tells him to ask “Soo Ryun” out again, and he does exactly that. Myung Hee tries to rush onto a bus to avoid answering, but Hee Tae follows her and loudly begs her for another date in front of everyone. Completely embarrassed, she gives in and says yes.
After he leaves, Myung Hee heads to a track meet to watch her younger brother, Kim Myung Soo, compete. He places second and even gets the chance to join a team. Their father shows up, and despite the awkward tension between him and Myung Hee, he takes Myung Soo out to buy him new shoes.
Meanwhile, Soo Ryun goes to the dorms to celebrate with her fellow protesters who were recently released from jail. Because she got out much earlier than the others, they start accusing her of receiving special treatment. After reminding them that they didn’t care who her father was when they broke into his factory, Soo Ryun storms off.
When the day of the second date arrives, Myung Hee and Hee Tae have dinner together. He admits that he’s started to like her, but the moment is ruined when he overhears Myung Hee’s coworkers — who also happen to be at the restaurant — talking badly about her. Hee Tae “accidentally” dumps water on one of their heads before Myung Hee rushes out. Outside, she slips down the stairs and twists her ankle, and Hee Tae carries her to a bench. He wraps her ankle, and they sit together watching flower petals fall around them — a quiet, tender moment neither of them expected.
They agree to go on another date, though Myung Hee starts feeling increasingly guilty about lying about her identity. The next day, at Soo Ryun’s house, Soo Ryun and Myung Hee come downstairs to find Hee Tae waiting. Quickly piecing everything together, Hee Tae greets Soo Ryun normally and chooses to keep the truth to himself.
After the awkward encounter, Hee Tae and Soo Ryun step outside to talk. He admits that he genuinely likes Myung Hee, while Soo Ryun lies and says that Myung Hee doesn’t feel the same. Before leaving, Hee Tae quietly slips Myung Hee a note.
Even though she promised Soo Ryun she wouldn’t see him again, she reads the note — an invitation to their third date — and shows up. During the date, Hee Tae reveals he knows she’s a nurse, not an upper‑class girl, and Myung Hee remembers seeing him in the Director’s office. At the end of the night, he walks her home. She turns back before going inside, a small gesture that confirms their growing feelings.
The next day, Soo Chan tells Myung Hee that their parents are planning Soo Ryun and Hee Tae’s wedding and that the two are expected to marry soon. Later, Hee Tae tells Myung Hee that he still wants to keep seeing her despite the engagement. In response, Myung Hee finally admits that she plans to move abroad for university in a month.
Desperate to stop the marriage, Hee Tae tells Soo Ryun that she has three days to admit the truth about the date swap before he does it himself. Not long after, he shows up at Myung Hee’s house to tutor her landlord’s daughter. That night, Hee Tae confesses his feelings again and asks Myung Hee to date him until the end of May — the end of the month.
Soon after, Soo Ryun is arrested again, while Myung Hee hands in her resignation letter to prepare for university. During Soo Ryun’s interrogation, Hee Tae’s father shows up and admits that he’s been spying on her and knows all about her involvement in the protests. He threatens her and orders her to stay quiet. Meanwhile, Hee Tae and Myung Hee spend a day volunteering at an orphanage. At the end of it, Myung Hee tells him she’ll give him her answer about their relationship the next day.
For a moment, everything feels happy between them — almost too happy.
Ki Nam, Hee Tae’s father, soon finds out about their relationship and immediately goes to Myung Hee’s father’s watch repair stand. He warns him to “control” his daughter before he gets involved himself. Later, Soo Ryun begs Hee Tae to keep up the fake relationship for another month, explaining that his father has been threatening her family. Hee Tae struggles with the decision, torn between protecting Soo Ryun and being with Myung Hee. That night, Myung Hee breaks up with Hee Tae and tells him to get engaged to Soo Ryun. It’s later revealed that Soo Ryun had visited her at the hospital earlier and begged her to end things for her family’s sake.
Myung Hee goes to Seoul to arrange her passport, while Hee Tae and Soo Ryun fake their way through wedding preparations. During this time, Myung Hee receives a letter from Soo Ryun about the protests. When her father finds it, he assumes it belongs to her and angrily rips it up. This is when we finally understand their strained relationship: Myung Hee used to protest in school, and when she was caught, her father begged her to “just say yes” and live quietly — a betrayal she never forgot.
When Soo Ryun and Hee Tae’s engagement ceremony arrives, all three of them are visibly miserable. Later that night, Hee Tae sneaks away, and Myung Hee finds him smoking outside. One thing leads to another, and Myung Hee admits that she doesn’t want the month of May to pass without him. He takes her hand, and the two of them run away from the ceremony together.
The next day, Hee Tae is slapped several times by his father for humiliating the family before meeting with Soo Ryun again. Afterward, Myung Hee and Hee Tae spend the day with their siblings, trying to hold onto whatever happiness they can. That night, Soo Chan waits outside Myung Hee’s home. She tells him her relationship with Hee Tae is real and she’s ready to face whatever consequences come with it.
The next day, Soo Ryun meets with Myung Hee to figure out what’s going on between her and Hee Tae. Soo Ryun tells her that things will probably get better once Myung Hee leaves for university, and it’s clear that their friendship is hanging by a thread. Meanwhile, Ki Nam and Soo Ryun’s father learn that Hee Tae has a “side woman,” and Ki Nam promises to teach his son a lesson. That night, Hee Tae and Myung Hee share a kiss and as she walks away, she promises to see him the next day. Hee Tae leaves, and just as Myung Hee is about to enter her home, she’s suddenly grabbed and forced into a car.
The next day, Hee Tae goes to see Myung Hee. It doesn’t take long for him to realise something is wrong. He searches everywhere before going to her family home, hoping she might be there. After eating and making small talk, he leaves and eventually spots Myung Hee walking home. She seems distant and uneasy around him. The reason becomes clear: the night before, she had been taken by Hee Tae’s father.
Ki Nam confronted her about her past as a protester and revealed that her father had been labelled a communist. To make things worse, he had her passport put on hold indefinitely, effectively destroying her plans to study abroad. After being released, Myung Hee speaks with Soo Chan, who tells her to wait while he tries to find a solution. Myung Hee confronts her father, and during their argument, we see a flashback revealing why he walks with a limp — Ki Nam once beat him so brutally that he never fully recovered. Hee Tae keeps trying to talk to Myung Hee, but she finally admits that she’s scared — not necessarily of him, but of what his father can do.
Desperate, Hee Tae goes to his father and begs him to leave Myung Hee alone. Ki Nam refuses and instead orders him to get married, move to Seoul, and wait for further instructions. Hee Tae agrees. He visits Myung Hee one last time, and this time, she doesn’t look back.
The day arrives for Hee Tae and Soo Ryun to leave for Seoul, and the tension is suffocating. While they’re gone, Soo Chan manages to get Myung Hee’s passport visa approved but she refuses to accept it, unwilling to rely on anyone’s help. After days of emotional distance, Hee Tae and Soo Ryun finally agree to end their engagement and go their separate ways. Soo Ryun encourages Hee Tae to return to Gwangju and tells him that Myung Hee isn’t truly angry with him.
He listens. He immediately returns to Gwangju and reunites with Myung Hee. They embrace, and for a brief moment, they’re happy again. But the world around them is shifting. Martial law is about to begin, and Ki Nam prepares his troops. Soo Ryun returns to Gwangju to find her protester hideout abandoned, while soldiers march toward the city. Ki Nam immediately takes control, distributing arrest lists. The crackdown begins. People are dragged away. Others are beaten. And Gwangju descends into chaos.
Hee Tae and Myung Hee decide to leave Gwangju together but agree to wait until later that day. Before leaving, Myung Hee visits her brother to tell him the news. While she’s on the bus, soldiers suddenly raid it and begin dragging people out — including her. When she insists that she isn’t a student, an officer accuses her of lying and prepares to hit her. Hee Tae steps in and takes the blow for her. They go to the hospital to make sure he’s okay, but because of the curfew, they’re forced to stay there overnight. They still plan to leave at 7 p.m. together.
Meanwhile, Soo Ryun chooses to join the protesters despite the danger and Soo Chan is arrested after trying to help a young student escape. Back at the hospital, injured civilians begin arriving with gunshot wounds — a terrifying sign that the military has officially turned its weapons on the people. Ki Nam learns that Soo Chan has been arrested and uses his connections to get him released. Shortly after, he also discovers that Hee Tae has returned to Gwangju. Hee Tae takes an ambulance to help civilians on the street while Myung Hee stays behind to speak with her father. Moments after Hee Tae leaves, another truck barrels toward them.
Before we see what happens, the story jumps back to the present day. The bones discovered at the construction site have a broken locket — the same locket that belonged to Myung Hee’s father. The question hangs in the air: whose body was found?
Back in the past, Myung Hee is devastated when only one patient from the hit-and-run arrives at the hospital and it isn’t Hee Tae. Instead, we learn that Hee Tae was kidnapped by his father’s men and locked inside a room at Ki Nam’s house. Ki Nam threatens him, ordering him to leave Gwangju or risk Myung Hee’s life. Eventually, Hee Tae’s stepmother helps him escape. He rushes back to the hospital to find Myung Hee. While Hee Tae recovers, Myung Hee’s father visits her. He gives Hee Tae some money and their family locket, silently giving his blessing for him to leave with her before walking away. Hee Tae gives the stuff to Myung Hee.
Later, Hee Tae and Myung Hee relocate to a church, where they decide to get married. At the same time, Myung Soo and his father attempt to flee Gwangju but are stopped by authorities. They go into hiding, and Myung Hee’s father ultimately sacrifices himself to protect his son.
Back at the church, Myung Hee and Hee Tae begin their wedding ceremony but before she can finish her vows, Myung Hee hears the news. Her father has been killed. She reads the letter he wrote for her, grieving in silence. Meanwhile, Ki Nam orders that Myung Hee be eliminated. Jung Tae, Hee Tae’s younger brother, overhears the plan and rushes out, determined to save her.
Jung Tae is shot while trying to protect Myung Hee, marking the moment Ki Nam loses any remaining connection to his family. Meanwhile, Soo Ryun and Soo Chan sneak into their father’s factory to gather supplies for the protesters. This time, instead of stopping them, their father chooses to help. With communication cut off, Myung Soo decides to run to his hometown of Naju to tell their relatives about their father’s death. When Myung Hee and Hee Tae learn he’s gone, they set out to find him. They reach a crossroads, share one last hug, and split up to search for him.
Myung Hee eventually finds Myung Soo, but they’re forced to hide behind bushes when soldiers arrive. At the same time, Hee Tae is captured by military men elsewhere. Knowing they’ll be discovered, Myung Hee tells Myung Soo to run and promises to follow. She gives him the family locket and steps out to reveal herself.
Myung Soo escapes, but the soldiers notice him. One fires a shot and Myung Hee jumps in front of him and is hit instead. Myung Soo manages to get away while a different soldier finds the dropped locket. Hee Tae is nearly executed before the soldiers realise he’s from Gwangju and let him go. Meanwhile, Myung Hee lies in a ditch with a gunshot wound to her stomach. When she learns that her brother is safe, she finally relaxes. A soldier returns the locket and her letter before leaving. As she looks up at the night sky — and as Hee Tae keeps glancing back, thinking of her — she quietly passes away.
Myung Soo continues running toward Naju, unaware that his sister will never make it home. Myung Hee’s body is never found… until the present day. She is the skeleton discovered at the construction site.
Years later, Hee Tae has become a professor at a hospital, and everyone else has tried to move on with their lives. He meets with Myung Soo, who tells him that they’ve identified Myung Hee’s body. The man from the beginning, the one crying at the train station, was the soldier who once returned her locket.
Hee Tae goes home and realises the torn piece of paper found with her body was actually her wedding vows. As he reads them, we learn that every May, he had tried to end his life — unable to move on, drowning in guilt and regret. The story ends with Hee Tae, 41 years later in May, choosing to live on, honouring her final prayer for him, and promising that one day, he’ll meet her again.
The End.
The Review
The Good
A Name That Means Something
I love when a drama’s title is intentional and actually reflects the story instead of being something vague and poetic for no reason. Youth of May absolutely nailed this. Everything happened in May: their love, their tragedy, the uprising, and even the discovery of her body decades later. It’s brilliant. People underestimate how powerful a well‑chosen title can be as when it mirrors the narrative this perfectly, it elevates the entire experience. It reminded me of Moon in the Day (check out that review here!) and how perfectly that title fit its story. It doesn’t seem to happen often, but when it does, the whole show goes up a rating or two.
Soft, Ordinary, Once‑in‑a‑Lifetime
Myung Hee and Hee Tae’s relationship was so gentle and delicate. If K‑drama couples were assigned a month to describe their love, these two would absolutely get May. Their relationship wasn’t flashy or dramatic — it was soft, steady, and quietly meaningful. And that’s exactly why the ending hurts so much. It makes sense that Hee Tae could never move on. Their love felt small on the surface, but it was the kind of connection that stays with you for a lifetime… and beyond.
If this were a reincarnation story, theirs is the kind of “ordinary” love that would pull them back to each other again and again.
Choosing Happiness Over Escape
When I first watched the drama, I was annoyed that Myung Hee turned down the passport Soo Chan got her. She fought so hard for that chance — why give it up the moment she finally had it? Especially after being devastated when Ki Nam put her passport on hold earlier.
But then I saw a comment that reframed everything, and it was honestly beautiful. The truth is simple: she chose happiness. She chose herself.
She wanted to go abroad not because it was her dream, but because she believed it was the only way to escape her pain. She convinced herself that happiness existed somewhere far away, in a new life she hadn’t lived yet. But when Hee Tae came into the picture, she realised happiness could exist right where she was.
By choosing Hee Tae, she wasn’t being naïve or blindly in love. For the first time in her life, she chose joy instead of duty. Myung Hee had spent her entire life sacrificing for others, even when it made her miserable. Staying wasn’t giving up. For once, she chose the happiness she could touch instead of chasing the promise of happiness somewhere else.
I’d like to believe that when she died, she wasn’t regretting her decision. She wasn’t thinking about the university she never went to. She was at peace, knowing she had experienced real love and real happiness at least once in her life.
History That Doesn’t Look Away (The Gwangju Uprising)
I love learning about other countries’ histories, so I appreciated how this drama introduced such a significant moment in South Korean history. I respect that they didn’t sugarcoat it. People were tortured, killed, and silenced, and anyone who helped them was treated as an enemy.
Even though I have thoughts about how the uprising was used (we’ll get to that later), I appreciate a drama that doesn’t shy away from the heavy parts of its history. It’s important, and Youth of May handled it with sincerity.
The Gwangju Uprising was a pivotal pro‑democracy movement that unfolded in the city of Gwangju, South Korea, in May 1980. After years of authoritarian rule, citizens were demanding democratic reforms, but the military government responded by expanding martial law and restricting political activity. When students began protesting these measures, paratroopers were deployed to the city, leading to violent confrontations that quickly drew in the wider community.
For ten days, ordinary citizens—students, workers, parents, and local residents—stood together to defend their rights and call for democratic freedoms. The movement faced severe military suppression, but the solidarity and courage shown in Gwangju became a lasting symbol of South Korea’s struggle for democracy. In the years that followed, the uprising was increasingly recognised, honoured, and remembered as a turning point that helped shape the nation’s path toward democratic reform.
The Bad
Gwangju Uprising as a Backdrop
I know I just praised the drama for its introduction to the Gwangju Uprising, but I still think it could’ve been handled better. What I mean is that the Uprising often felt like a backdrop used simply because the story was set in 1980 and not because it was something the drama truly wanted to dive into. Seeing Myung Hee and Hee Tae remain mostly unaffected by what was happening around them until the very end made their love story and the historical setting feel disconnected.
I originally thought this drama would follow a doctor and a nurse actively involved in protest committees by treating injured civilians, hiding students, and falling in love through shared danger. I go deeper into this idea in What I Would Do, but the point is: in that version, the uprising isn’t just scenery or a tool for a tragic ending. It’s woven into the love story itself.
What made this story hard for me to fully fall in love with was the huge contrast between the leads and the world around them. They were going on dates, visiting amusement parks with their siblings, flirting, and running away from Hee Tae’s engagement as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, protesters were in the streets, martial law was tightening, and people were dying. The Uprising stayed mostly in the background until the very end.
While Myung Hee’s and her father’s deaths were undeniably sad, they still felt abrupt. It felt as though the focus on the Uprising only shifted when it could push the leads together or add drama to their relationship. I appreciated being introduced to this part of history, but it often felt like the characters were living in a bubble of flowers and sunshine while everything around them was on fire.
Why Myung Hee’s Death Didn’t Break Me
I think the biggest reason Myung Hee’s death didn’t hit me emotionally was because we never got to see proper mourning. This might just be personal, but the reason her father’s death made me tear up was because we watched Myung Hee break down and grieve. Her pain made his death feel real.
Myung Hee’s death, on the other hand, was sad simply because it was death — but emotionally, it didn’t destroy me. She lay there, looked up at the sky, and passed away. What happened to her was horrifying, and I still can’t believe a soldier would shoot a child, but the scene itself felt strangely peaceful. She didn’t seem afraid. She looked at peace.
For me, what usually makes a death scene devastating is everyone else’s reaction to it. Because she died in a place where no one found her for decades, we never saw the people who loved her mourn her. We never saw their grief, their confusion, or their heartbreak. And for me, that meant the emotional impact never fully landed. I expected my heart to be ripped out, but it barely felt like a squeeze.
The Problem with Soo Ryun
I think the reason many protesters had issues with Soo Ryun was because she was never fully committed. Even if she didn’t consciously realise it, she was never willing to give up her privilege for the cause. We see this even in the future, when she’s sitting comfortably in a luxury car, being driven around.
Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely believe that she believed in what she was fighting for. She cared about the movement and wanted things to change. But it never felt like she was willing to truly sacrifice for it. You could see her privilege every time she managed to escape serious consequences while doing very little to help her friends who weren’t as protected. I wasn’t expecting her to abandon her family, but I was expecting her to refuse her privilege unless everyone benefited from it. For example, when the police were going to only let her out, she should’ve stayed in the jail cell and refused to leave unless they all got to leave. Or when Myung Hee had to drop out of school, she should’ve refused to attend school unless Myung Hee was able to return or demanded more. Instead, she left them on their own until they were no longer suffering, then came back smiling as if she understood their pain and did the best she could for them.
I think she got offended when people questioned her commitment because, consciously, she believed she was fully involved. But subconsciously, I think she knew they were right and that bothered her. A part of her understood that she wasn’t all in, and that created frustration and defensiveness.
Her privilege was always a safety net she never truly let go of. Even when she was disrespectful during interrogations, it was because she knew her father wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Throughout the story, it seemed like she lived in a constant tug‑of‑war between wanting to fight for change and being unable to sacrifice her comfort. And in the end, her privilege always won. She supported the cause, yes. She believed in it, absolutely. But she wasn’t willing to give up her privilege for it. And she knew she never would.
So while I definitely don’t think she was just a bored rich girl, I also don’t think she would’ve done anything that her father couldn’t save her from. That, in my opinion, was Soo Ryun’s biggest flaw.
Supporting Characters Who… Didn’t Support Much
I still don’t really know whether I’d classify the Soo siblings as main characters or supporting ones. After Hee Tae and Myung Hee got together, it felt like they added very little to the story. After the first few episodes, it felt like the siblings were pushed to the back of the stage and told to stay quiet. Honestly, this happened to a lot of characters — they had major roles in helping the leads get together, and once that was done, they were pushed to the background.
With the Soo siblings especially, it felt obvious. They barely had any real development until Soo Chan’s monologue about feeling guilty for being comfortable. I actually appreciated that moment, because it showed self-awareness and potential growth. But since the siblings were basically written out of the story after that, we never got to see how that realisation changed them.
It ended up feeling like the writers put a lot of effort into building them as second love interests, then got lazy once that purpose was fulfilled. Neither of them experienced meaningful growth, and both faded into the background having sacrificed almost nothing.
The Middle Dragged… Hard
My biggest issue with this drama is how boring it became in the middle. There were long stretches where nothing meaningful happened, which made the story hard to stay emotionally invested in.
This was the perfect time for the Gwangju Uprising storyline to take centre stage, but instead we got endless side plots that went nowhere. We had Ki Nam constantly making threats, Myung Soo and Jung Tae running around and flipping from enemies to friends, Myung Hee’s father limping from scene to scene, Soo Chan existing mostly as a love interest, Soo Ryun being a protester but also not really, and the leads dealing with small relationship issues that barely mattered.
Even the little details that made the characters feel like individuals started to disappear. Everything became about “Hee Tae and Myung Hee’s relationship” and nothing else. It felt like no real thought was put into developing the world or the supporting cast anymore, which is why most scenes outside of the leads hit the floor with a dull thud.
Myung Hee & Soo Ryun’s Friendship… Gone Without a Trace
I still don’t understand what happened to Myung Hee and Soo Ryun’s friendship. They were so close in the beginning, and then once Hee Tae entered the picture, they practically stopped speaking. This isn’t a major point, but it’s confusing. What was really holding their friendship together? How did one boy — especially one that only one of them liked — cause such a permanent split?
The writers made it feel like they only needed their friendship long enough to set up the blind date plot. Once that was done, the relationship was tossed aside like it didn’t matter.
Who Was The Girl in The Hospital, Really?
I still don’t fully understand who the girl Hee Tae saved was supposed to be or what really happened to her. We’re told there was a factory accident, but… what accident? What was her story? What did she go through?
She felt like a character who was meant to be important, but never fully developed. She had a strong emotional impact on Hee Tae, yet she also faded into the background once her role in pushing the leads together was complete. It’s hard not to feel like she existed mainly to get hurt so the main couple could grow closer. Poor girl really had to suffer just so they could date.
The Smitten Cop… and Then He Died
This is a smaller issue, but it really stood out to me: the drama completely forgot about the smitten cop and Soo Ryun.
He had maybe five minutes of screen time. Four minutes were spent showing that he liked her, and the last minute was him dying. It felt like the writers originally planned for Soo Ryun to have her own romantic storyline, then abandoned it halfway through. When they remembered him, it was too late, so they just threw in a death scene and called it a day.
It really felt like the drama had big plans for its characters but cut everything out to give the leads more screen time.
Why Didn’t Soo Ryun and Soo Chan Age?
This is another small point, but it was hard to ignore. How did Soo Chan and Soo Ryun not age at all? Soo Chan was older than Hee Tae, and Soo Ryun was the same age — yet years later, they looked exactly the same, while Hee Tae had clearly aged. It was distracting.
It once again reinforced the idea that only Myung Hee and Hee Tae truly mattered to the writers. Everything else — even something as basic as consistent aging and casting — felt secondary.
What I Would Do
Let the Romance and the Revolution Intertwine
This is a given since I already mentioned it above, but I’d change the structure of the story so that the romance and the Gwangju Uprising are fully intertwined. Watching Myung Hee and Hee Tae skip around while the rest of Gwangju was suffering made them feel disconnected and strangely unaware of their surroundings.
In my version, they’d be a nurse and a doctor who meet through their involvement in helping protesters. Their relationship would grow inside the chaos, not beside it. I have two possible ways I’d approach this.
In the first option, Myung Hee is a nurse who secretly helps injured protesters in Gwangju. Hee Tae is a doctor in Seoul who does the same thing. When his father finds out, he forces him back to Gwangju to keep him under control. Hee Tae isn’t willing to give up the cause, though, and immediately makes plans to continue his work there.
One day, he attends a secret meeting. Myung Hee bursts in with a bloodied patient who desperately needs a doctor. Hee Tae steps up, works with her, and that’s where their story begins — not in a restaurant, but in a crisis that defines their generation.
In the second option, Myung Hee still helps protesters, but Hee Tae isn’t involved at first. He’s forced back to Gwangju by his father but avoids the movement out of fear. When he attends a meeting and sees Myung Hee arrive with an injured patient, he panics and leaves instead of helping.
Later, he meets her at the hospital, where she’s cold and distant. She calls him out for his cowardice. Throughout the episode, he reflects on her words and his lifelong fear of standing up for anything. That night, he overhears that the injured boy may die without treatment. He sits alone, torn between doing the right thing and facing his father’s wrath.
The episode ends with him choosing to help. Myung Hee helps too. That’s where their relationship truly begins.
A Death That Shatters the Screen
In my version, Myung Hee’s death would be sudden, brutal, and witnessed by Hee Tae — not something that happens off-screen and years later.
The secret clinic is discovered. Soldiers close in. Protesters scramble to move the injured into trucks and ambulances. Myung Hee and Hee Tae work frantically, carrying patients and loading supplies. Myung Hee runs back inside to save one last person while Hee Tae gets caught up outside. He hears a gunshot and freezes, thinking she’s dead.
Then she comes running out. She made it.
Hee Tae helps load the patient into an ambulance. Just as Myung Hee is about to get in, a soldier storms over and orders them out at gunpoint. Hee Tae stays inside because the patient starts bleeding again. Myung Hee tells him she’ll handle it.
The soldier is terrified and clearly doesn’t want to shoot. She talks to him calmly. It works. He starts lowering his gun.
Then the patient wakes up and reaches out. The soldier panics and fires.
The episode ends.
In the next episode, through flashbacks and present-day scenes, we learn that Myung Hee was hit. The soldier runs. She collapses. Hee Tae presses on her wound, begging her to stay awake, telling her she’ll be okay.
She admits she doesn’t want to die but that she’s ready.
Another protester arrives and says they need to leave immediately. Soldiers are coming. Hee Tae tries everything, but she’s losing too much blood. They both know she won’t survive.
She tells him to go and save the patient. He refuses. He’s dragged away.
As the truck drives off, she smiles at him. He tries to jump out, but soldiers start shooting. She dies. He’s forced to live.
Give the Side Characters Lives of Their Own
It felt like the writers originally planned meaningful arcs for the side characters and then abandoned them. In my version, I’d actually follow through. Soo Ryun would end up with the smitten cop and slowly learn to choose the cause over comfort. Soo Chan would follow her, not just emotionally, but through real action. After his realisation, he’d actively change instead of fading away.
In the future, Soo Chan would become an activist who fights for people’s rights. Soo Ryun would become a lawyer or someone who defends the innocent. They wouldn’t just “exist” in the background, they’d have full journeys of their own. Side characters are meant to support the leads, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have lives outside of them. Soo Ryun and Soo Chan were built up too much to disappear without proper closure. They deserved better.
Final Thoughts
To end this drama, I’d like to say that I was sad but not devastated. This was a drama that I was mentally preparing for as I read the many comments and saw the edits of how devastated people were. Disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover it. I won’t lie, their relationship was really cute and the name couldn’t have been more fitting, but that’s where a lot of the praise ends. My biggest issue was that their relationship was the one and only focus, making everything else feel half-done.
I really wanted to love this drama since I usually rate sad endings quite high, but this one just didn’t do it for me. I think the main reason I rated this a 7/10 was because of how pure and sweet their relationship was. And it makes sense why their relationship hit — it was the only thing the writers seemed to care about.
It felt like the writers had big plans for this drama and its characters, but ended up cutting large chunks out so the leads could have as much screen time together as possible. As a result, many side characters and storylines were left half-finished, underdeveloped, or forgotten entirely. The relationship was the only thing that mattered, and it left everyone and everything else as little more than props.
To end this off, I will say that their relationship really carried the show. Because it was so pure and spring-like, I’m not sure I’ll ever look at May the same way again. It felt like their love existed only in that soft, fleeting season — beautiful, brief, and impossible to hold onto. It was like a reminder that some seasons are beautiful precisely because they don’t last.
Like May itself, their story bloomed quickly, stayed gentle, and faded before it could fully grow. And while I wish we had been given more, I can’t deny that for a moment in time, it was quietly beautiful.
And we’re done! What did you think of the show? What did you think of my review? This was fun to review and I’m glad I got a chance to.
Next week I’m going to be reviewing a youth, thriller drama. This one has also been highly recommended all over the place… but I didn’t like it. I think I’m going to review dramas that I didn’t like for the next couple of weeks so that means long reviews again 🤭! Get excited with me!
See you next week! 💕
Main Cast
Lee Do Hyun as Hwang Hee Tae
Choi Won Young as Hwang Hee Tae (Adult)
Go Min Si as Kim Myung Hee
Lee Sang Yi as Lee Soo Chan
Keum Sae Rok as Lee Soo Ryun
Oh Man Seok as Hwang Ki Nam
Choi Seung Hoon as Hwang Jung Tae
Jo Yi Hyun as Kim Myung Soo
Themes/ Genres
First Love in the face of political turmoil ; Fate, sacrifice, and the fragility of youth ; State violence and collective trauma ; Moral courage vs. survival ; Family duty and generational conflict ; The cost of freedom ; Memory, grief, and honoring the past ;
Melodrama; Historical drama; Romance; Coming‑of‑age