Spring Fever- Episodes 5-6
Choosing Courage, Old Bonds, and the Fear of Wanting More
Episode 5 of Spring Fever leans heavily into quiet courage and unspoken emotions, starting with a moment we didn’t see before sports day. Rather than quietly accepting what was done to her, Bom swallowed her pride and went straight to her superior to ask to be placed back on the White Team, the team she had chosen for herself. It’s a small act, but one that speaks volumes about her growth. What Bom doesn’t know is that Jae-gyu had already stepped away from Team White after hearing she’d been moved to Blue. Believing she wouldn’t be there, he withdrew his support. Ironically, that decision is exactly what convinces her superior to approve Bom’s request and restore her to White.
When the relay race begins, Bom immediately notices Jae-gyu’s absence. Yi-joon is unsettled as well. He had expected Bom to compete for Blue and help them win, not stand across from him. Without Jae-gyu, White struggles badly. An elderly woman takes his place and collapses mid-race. Han-gyul sprints forward with impressive speed, but at the final baton exchange, he deliberately throws it away so Se-jin can win. Chaos erupts when the baton ends up in a dog’s mouth, forcing White’s runner to chase after it. Se-jin crosses the finish line first, securing victory for Team Blue. Watching the loss unfold, Bom feels her confidence crumble.
Refusing to accept defeat, Bom seeks out Jae-gyu and asks him to come back. He hesitates, bound by a promise he made to Han-gyul not to join the games. But Bom doesn’t back down. She tells him she needs him and makes a deal, if he helps White win a medal, she will finally tell him the truth about what happened to her in Seoul. The promise shakes him deeply, and by the time tug of war begins, Jae-gyu is back where he belongs.
The energy shifts instantly. Yi-joon grows more competitive as he locks eyes with Jae-gyu, determined not to lose. As both teams pull with everything they have, the episode slips into a revealing flashback. When Yi-joon was bullied, it was Jae-gyu who stepped in to protect him. In return, Yi-joon helped raise baby Han-gyul and supported Jae-gyu through his studies. They were once inseparable, bound by loyalty and trust, though the reason for their fallout remains a mystery. Back in the present, Jae-gyu’s strength turns the tide, and Team White claims victory.
The final challenge is breaking the piñata. Guided by Jae-gyu’s clever coaching, White once again comes out on top. As cheers erupt, Se-jin breaks down in tears, and Han-gyul stands quietly, weighed down by his own conflicted feelings. Amid the celebrations, unease creeps in when a suspicious woman wanders around asking for Jae-gyu. When she calls him, her name appears on his phone as “That Woman,” hinting at secrets that have yet to surface.
Later, Se-jin replays footage of the relay race and notices the way Han-gyul watched her with unmistakable pride. Realization dawns. When they meet at a café, no grand confession follows, just an awkward, meaningful silence that says enough. Elsewhere, Bom and Jae-gyu officially adopt Bom-sik, a small but heartfelt step that quietly draws them closer. Yi-joon, meanwhile, moves his law office to town so he can stay near Bom and help clear her name. Bom’s mother remains anxious as reporters continue to hint at the false affair, but Yi-joon is determined to prove Bom’s innocence and, quietly, to win her heart.
The episode closes on its most powerful moment. That night, after adopting Bom-sik, Bom and Jae-gyu take a walk together. He gently reminds her of her promise to explain what happened in Seoul. She hesitates, fear written all over her face. Sensing it, Jae-gyu asks if she’s worried he might cross a line. Bom finally admits the truth, she isn’t afraid of him crossing it. She’s afraid that she might.
Jae-gyu freezes, stunned by her honesty, and the episode ends on that quiet, emotionally charged note, the kind that lingers long after the screen fades to black.
Misunderstandings, Butterflies, and One Very Unlucky Locksmith
Episode 5 quietly sets the emotional stage for everything that explodes later. Bom gathers every ounce of courage she has and convinces her superior to let her return to Team White, unaware that Jae-gyu has already withdrawn his support behind the scenes. That small gap in communication turns into a growing emotional rift. Bom puts on a brave face, but it is clear she feels unwanted, while Jae-gyu watches from a distance, unsure how to reach her without crossing lines he knows are dangerous.
Then Episode 6 arrives and completely steals the show. It is easily the funniest and most emotionally charged episode so far, blending romance, jealousy, and chaos in that very specific Spring Fever way.
The episode opens right where things left off, with Bom drawing a firm line between herself and Jae-gyu. She tells him she cannot cross it. When he softly asks if she wishes she could, she answers no, but her hesitation says otherwise. Pressed for an explanation, Bom finally reveals a painful fragment of her past in Seoul. In a brief but unsettling flashback, a man forces her apartment door open, claiming she once said she liked him. Whether that was true or not almost does not matter. What matters is how deeply that experience scarred her.
Jae-gyu immediately understands what Bom is really afraid of. As a teacher, being romantically linked to a student’s parent could destroy her reputation overnight. Instead of pushing her, he does something unexpectedly tender. He promises to wait two years, until Han-gyul graduates, and only then pursue her properly. Bom does not respond with grand words, but her quiet acceptance says everything.
Of course, peace never lasts long in this drama.
The next morning, several teachers stop by a café before work and spot Jae-gyu sitting with another woman. Viewers recognize her as the mysterious contact labeled “That Woman” in his phone, but Bom does not have that context. All she sees is another woman sitting close to him, touching his arm, laughing comfortably. Her heart sinks, and she immediately assumes he has been playing her.
Determined not to look like the one left behind, Bom shows up to school looking absolutely stunning. The plan backfires in the best way possible. Jae-gyu is so overwhelmed by her beauty that he literally turns and runs the moment he sees her. Naturally, Bom misunderstands this too and believes he is actively avoiding her.
Meanwhile, Han-gyul is fighting his own emotional battles. When Se-jin casually says she prefers thrillers over romance instead of responding to his confession, his pride takes over. He snaps back that he does not like her anyway since there are plenty of pretty girls around. Jae-gyu later advises him to stop posturing and tell the truth, but Han-gyul is clearly not ready to face his feelings yet.
Comedy peaks again when Bom’s padlock gets stuck that evening. Jae-gyu appears at the worst possible moment. Instead of helping, he panics, overwhelmed by his feelings, and runs away yet again. Thankfully, Yi-joon steps in and helps Bom without hesitation. The next day, Jae-gyu pays for breaking his promise about the sports event by submitting to Yi-joon’s ridiculous punishment rules, including calling him “honey.” Their banter adds a delightful layer of absurd humor to the episode.
Things escalate when Bom asks Yi-joon out for coffee, purely to repay him for his help. Yi-joon quickly realizes it is not a date and cleverly steers the conversation toward his legal work with teachers. Bom, clearly conflicted, disguises her own situation as a hypothetical and asks for advice. Before the conversation can go further, chaos interrupts when the children claim a thief has entered her house.
What follows is pure Spring Fever madness.
Bom rushes home to find Jae-gyu being handcuffed by the police. He breaks free, spots a man riding away on a bike, and chases him down the street shouting that he is the thief. With Yi-joon tracking the suspect using a phone that slipped from his pocket, they corner him at the beach. The twist is almost cruel. The so-called thief is actually a locksmith sent by the landlord. Terrified by Jae-gyu’s intensity, he ran, which somehow lands Jae-gyu in a jail cell overnight.
When Jae-gyu finally learns the truth, he also learns what Bom did for him while he was locked up. She knelt down and apologized to the locksmith, bought multiple locks from his shop, and even arranged concert tickets through her mother just to smooth things over and get Jae-gyu released. The realization hits him hard. Bom cared far more deeply than he ever allowed himself to hope.
He rushes to her, and Bom finally admits the truth. Seeing him with another woman had hurt her. With the misunderstanding cleared, Jae-gyu apologizes, withdraws his promise to wait, leans in, and kisses her, choosing the present over fear and what-ifs.
DramaZen's Opinion
When Spring Fever Started Hitting the Heart
Watching Episodes 5 and 6 of Spring Fever honestly felt like being gently wrecked and then lovingly put back together again.
Episode 5 was quieter on the surface, but emotionally heavy in a way that really lingered with me. Seeing Bom gather the courage to ask to return to Team White already had me rooting for her, but knowing she was doing it without realizing Jae-gyu had pulled his support made everything feel so bittersweet. There was this constant ache while watching her try to act strong, because you could tell she already felt unwanted before anyone even said the words out loud. It hurt in that subtle, very real way where no one is technically cruel, but everyone is still hurting.
Then Episode 6 came in and completely flipped the emotional switch. I don’t think I stopped reacting the entire episode. It was funny, frustrating, heart-fluttering, and stressful all at once, the kind of episode that reminds you why you love watching dramas in the first place.
The opening conversation between Bom and Jae-gyu really stayed with me. When he asked if she wished she could cross the line with him and she said no, I didn’t believe her for a second and neither did he. When she finally opened up about her past in Seoul, it stopped feeling like a typical romance conflict and suddenly felt deeply personal. That flashback explained so much about her fear, and it made me appreciate how carefully the drama handles her boundaries instead of romanticizing them away.
What really got me emotional was Jae-gyu’s response. Instead of pushing or making things about his own feelings, he chose patience. His promise to wait two years felt surprisingly tender and respectful, and Bom’s quiet acceptance said more than any dramatic confession could have. It felt mature in a way dramas don’t always allow their characters to be.
Of course, the misunderstandings that followed had me internally screaming. The café scene with “that woman” was painful to watch because as viewers, we know more than Bom does, and that helpless feeling of watching her misinterpret everything made my chest ache. Her decision to show up looking stunning afterward felt less like jealousy and more like self-preservation, like she was trying to remind herself of her own worth. And Jae-gyu running away from her because he was too flustered was equal parts hilarious and exasperating.
The comedy in this episode genuinely worked for me. From Jae-gyu’s repeated panicked escapes to Yi-joon’s shameless teasing and punishment rules, it felt light without undermining the emotional stakes. Yi-joon in particular stood out here. His interactions with Bom felt warm and safe, and I liked how their coffee conversation allowed Bom to quietly seek advice without spelling everything out. It made her feel like a real person trying to process feelings she doesn’t yet know how to name.
And then came the chaos. The thief situation spiraled so wildly that I couldn’t even be mad, I was too busy laughing in disbelief. Jae-gyu chasing down a locksmith and ending up in jail overnight felt absurd, but somehow still very on-brand for the emotional mess he was in. What really got me, though, was finding out what Bom did afterward. Her kneeling to apologize, buying multiple locks, and pulling strings just to make things right spoke louder than any confession ever could. That was love in action, not words.
By the time Jae-gyu rushed back to her and Bom finally admitted she was hurt, I felt that release in my chest that only a well-earned moment can give you. When he withdrew his promise to wait and kissed her, it didn’t feel rushed or reckless. It felt like two people choosing honesty after spending so long protecting themselves.
Episodes 5 and 6 are where Spring Fever stopped being just a sweet slow-burn for me and started feeling deeply personal. They reminded me how powerful quiet choices, small misunderstandings, and unspoken care can be. By the end of Episode 6, I wasn’t just watching Bom and Jae-gyu anymore, I was emotionally invested in them, rooting for their healing as much as their romance.
