2026: The Start of Outpatient Services — Winter Sonata and “Emotional Anti-Aging”

As of today, we begin our outpatient services at Clinic F for 2026.
I sincerely appreciate your continued support this year as well.

During the recent holiday break, I watched the classic Winter Sonata for the very first time—more than twenty years after its original release. I had recorded the year-end and New Year rebroadcast and watched all episodes in one stretch. When it was rebroadcast on NHK terrestrial television in 2004, I myself was immersed in a demanding clinical schedule and spending my nights finishing my doctoral dissertation in medicine—living a life almost entirely disconnected from television dramas.

Viewed calmly and analytically now, the story is full of familiar tropes: amnesia, suspicions of half-siblings, layers upon layers of coincidental reunions. Judging by its plot devices alone, it is frankly a parade of implausibilities.

However, when viewed through the eyes of a physician engaged in anti-aging medicine, this work reveals a very different face. One might hypothesize that it functioned as a kind of “emotional regenerative medicine” (with a smile) for Japanese women at the time.

1. Personal Emotion That Leapt Over National “Education”

One background factor behind the recurring chill in Japan–Korea relations lies in deeply rooted issues of historical education. Education often takes the “nation” or “ethnicity” as its subject, embedding confrontation as part of identity. Whenever politics cools, an internal “alert system” is triggered, heightening distrust toward others. From a biological perspective, this resembles a state of chronic stress.

Even the 2002 Japan–Korea World Cup, in reality, strongly etched friction born of nationalism and hardened collective emotions.

Immediately afterward, Winter Sonata entered through a completely different route. It spoke neither of history nor politics, and it did not take the nation-state as its subject. Through this approach, it directly accessed the “unrecovered emotions” within individuals.

The filter of “the suspicious neighboring country” implanted by education was vividly overwritten by dopamine and oxytocin generated through personal empathy.

2. “A Trend” in Korea, “A Salvation” in Japan — Anti-Aging by Another Name

What is particularly intriguing is the stark difference in how the series was received in the two countries.

• The Korean reality:
  The main audience consisted of middle and high school students. It was a trendy youth drama, with fashion becoming a topic of conversation.

• The Japanese reality:
  Women from the baby boomer generation through the boomer junior generation were enthralled. It became a social phenomenon, with some saying it “saved their lives.”

What was a “trend” for Korean youth became a “salvation” for Japan’s mature generations. This suggests that a generation that had long endured an “emotional winter” reactivated the fresh emotional vitality that had been depleted, simply by immersing themselves in this story. Anti-aging is not merely about refining outward appearance; it is also about restoring this kind of emotional plasticity.

3. “Emotional Safety by Design” and the True Nature of Bae Yong-joon

Why did it resonate so deeply? Because the series was meticulously constructed around “emotional safety.” There is no violence, no struggle for possession, no brutal competition. It is a world in which one is guaranteed not to be rushed or broken.

At its center stood Bae Yong-joon—an icon of mature emotionality who stood in stark contrast to the “taciturn, awkward man” often depicted in Japanese dramas. He verbalized emotions, waited for the other person, and showed respect.

What these women loved was not Korea as a nation, but a story that mirrored back the “careful, respectful treatment” their own hearts had been yearning for.

Absurd Settings, Genuine Emotions

From a screenwriting perspective, the plot is undeniably overstuffed. Yet it was precisely this extraordinary, fantastical quality that struck accurately at the “hunger” of hearts exposed daily to oxidative stress in ordinary life.

From the Korean side, there may well have been confusion—“Why is this resonating now?”—a kind of misreading. But that very gap in interpretation neutralized the “top-down structures” of politics and education, transforming the other into someone who no longer felt frightening at an emotional level.

Winter Sonata was, in a sense, a personal one-sided love affair of Japanese women at the time, observed coolly from the Korean side. It did not structurally transform Japan–Korea relations. Yet it demonstrated—earlier than diplomacy or sports—that by encountering beautiful emotions, people can release their guard toward others and genuinely rejuvenate from within.

In the emotional history of Japan–Korea relations in the 21st century, this work may have been a single, quiet, and happy spring.

A Rough Periodization of Japan–Korea Emotional Relations Since the 21st Century

Perhaps it can be summarized as follows. As in Europe, neighboring countries often differ in ideologies, making coexistence inherently difficult.

Phase 1: 2000–2002 — Formal Friendship, Unprocessed Emotions

At the start of the 21st century, Japan and Korea championed a “future-oriented” relationship.
The symbol was the jointly hosted FIFA World Cup.

• Institutional and diplomatic progress

• Yet emotionally:

  • The surfacing of nationalism

  • Memories of controversial refereeing and perceived unfairness

  • Friction born of competition

The result was a twisted state: cooperation on the surface, distrust beneath.

Phase 2: 2003–2006 — Culture Melted Emotions First

Into this emotionally suspended state entered Winter Sonata from an entirely different route. Timing was crucial.

• Broadcast in Korea: 2002

• Reception in Japan: 2003–2004

It permeated Japanese society during the “post–World Cup cleanup” phase.

What occurred was:

• National understanding → ✕

• Historical reconciliation → ✕

• Personal sense of closeness → ◎

Especially among middle-aged Japanese women, an image formed of “Korea as an emotionally safe other.”
From a diplomatic-historical perspective, this was exceptional—a moment when culture overtook diplomacy at the level of emotion.

Phase 3: 2007–2012 — Recoil and Reality

Emotional thaw does not last forever.

• Territorial disputes

• Textbook controversies

• Renewed debates over historical recognition

In Japan, a form of cognitive separation spread:

“I like Korean pop culture, but politics is another matter.”

Emotions had softened, but memories had not disappeared.

Phase 4: 2013–2017 — Cooling Again, Without Rupture

While political tensions intensified, K-pop and dramas took root among younger generations.

• Polarization into pro- and anti-Korea sentiments

• Generational temperature gaps

Japan–Korea emotions shifted from being “uniformly cold” to “layered and differentiated.”

Phase 5: From 2018 Onward — Coexistence Amid Fragmentation

Around 2018, Japan–Korea emotions could no longer be measured simply as good or bad.

• Politics and security: cold

• Entertainment and daily culture: warm

• At the personal level: indifference to pragmatism

In short, we now live in a state where emotions are dispersed and fragmented.