(Lights come up. Ho-dong stands center stage in his school uniform, hands folded, a mix of nervousness and excitement in his expression.)
Kang Ho-dong:
"Brothers and sisters watching at home…
I’ve been on this show for years. I’ve met idols, actors, politicians—even a shaman once who said I have the energy of a steamed bun.
But today… is different.
Today, we welcome a guest that no one ever imagined sitting in this classroom.
Not in a million episodes.
He’s not here to sing. Not here to promote a new drama.
He’s here to sit where we all sit. Drink banana milk like we do. Laugh—maybe. Cry—possibly. Be real—hopefully.
And maybe, just maybe…
He’s here not as a Chairman, not as a mystery, not as a threat…
…but as a classmate."
(He pauses. Breathes.)
Kang Ho-dong:
"Now, I know some of you are gripping your remote controls, wondering if this is a prank.
It’s not. It’s real. And for the next hour,
we’ll find out what happens when walls become doors…
and the most unexpected man in Korea says,
‘Hi. I’m new here.’"
(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)
Scene 1: The Transfer Student from Nowhere
🎛️ Studio Atmosphere
The lights are brighter than usual on the set of Knowing Bros. The air is oddly crisp, as if something bigger than television is about to happen. The familiar chalkboard stretches behind the row of cast members, but today, it doesn’t feature silly cartoons or inside jokes. It reads simply:
“오늘의 전학생은…?”
The question lingers in the room like a collective breath being held. The usual audience laughter is absent. In their place: a quiet but curious energy—media elites, government liaisons, and two discreet men in black suits pretending not to be Secret Service.
🎙️ Banter Begins (Sort of)
Kang Ho-dong (trying to mask his nerves with swagger):
“Today’s the day we rewrite history. And I don’t mean just because I finally found a belt that fits.”
Lee Soo-geun (chiming in):
“We’ve had idols, actors, world champions—but never someone who controls missiles and memes.”
Kim Young-chul (whispers):
“Am I allowed to say his name out loud? I feel like Alexa might report me to the government.”
Heechul (mocking seriousness):
“Let’s not provoke the satellites.”
Kyung-hoon (deadpan):
“I didn’t even tell my mom I was filming today. I just said, ‘If I don’t come back, tell my story in a Netflix doc.’”
The crew chuckles, but it’s nervous. Even their banter feels like walking a tightrope strung between diplomacy and disaster.
🚪 The Entrance
Suddenly, the lights dim. A slow cinematic drumroll begins, not the usual comedic tambourine tap. Then, a loudspeaker in old-fashioned Korean formal dialect echoes through the room:
“Please welcome today’s transfer student… from Pyongyang.”
The studio door creaks open—not a flash entrance, not dramatic. Just quiet and deliberate.
And then—there he is.
Kim Jong-un steps into the classroom.
🎩 The Look
He’s not in his military tunic. Instead, he’s wearing a black blazer tailored to resemble the school uniform style of the show—but with sharp lapels, subtle embroidery, and a tiny DPRK flag pin that glints under the lights.
He scans the room quickly. His face is unreadable at first—diplomatic calm meets cultural confusion. Then, a half-smile cracks through. Real. Nervous. Human.
The cast freezes. The audience is dead silent.
Kang Ho-dong stands up first, bows deeply, then extends his hand.
Kang Ho-dong:
“Chairman Kim, or should we just call you ‘classmate’ today?”
Kim Jong-un pauses… then shakes the hand.
Kim Jong-un (with an awkward smile):
“For today, 형님들이면… 괜찮습니다. Just call me hyung if that’s easier.”
Laughter. Not forced. Relieved. Human.
🎓 Introducing “Transfer Student Kim”
He’s handed a chalkboard-style name card like all guests. He fills it in himself.
| 항목 | 내용 |
|---|---|
| 이름 | 김정은 (Kim Jong-un) |
| 출신지 | 평양 북구 |
| 장래희망 | 내 이름이 검색어 1위가 아닐 때까지 살아보기 |
| 이상형 | 말을 진짜로, 직설적으로 하는 사람 |
| 특기 | 분위기 얼리는 거 (but trying to change that) |
Heechul (laughing):
“You broke the fourth wall and the DMZ, my guy.”
Kim Jong-un:
“My sister told me not to try being funny. But here we are.”
🎯 The First Conversation
Kang Ho-dong:
“Why did you agree to come here today? We’re known for chaos, not... international diplomacy.”
Kim Jong-un:
“I’ve been called a tyrant, a strategist, a ghost, a cartoon villain… but no one’s ever called me a ‘guest.’ I wanted to see what that feels like.”
There’s a beat of stunned silence.
Soo-geun (carefully):
“So… you’re not here to announce unification?”
Kim Jong-un (grinning):
“Only if you all agree to rename BTS as ‘Best Taedong Stars.’”
The room explodes in laughter.
🧃 Banana Milk and Other Firsts
A tray is brought out with iconic South Korean snacks: banana milk, honey butter chips, tteokbokki, choco pies.
Heechul:
“Okay, Chairman. Pick your first taste of freedom.”
Kim Jong-un grabs the banana milk. He sips. His eyebrows twitch.
Kim Jong-un:
“This… is what I thought capitalism would taste like.”
The cast loses it.
🔐 Breaking the Ice
Young-chul:
“Weren’t you worried about how this would look to your people?”
Kim Jong-un:
“If peace begins with a handshake, maybe laughter begins with banana milk.”
He looks directly into the camera.
Kim Jong-un:
“Pyongyang, if you’re watching… this is what a soft power missile looks like.”
There’s that moment again. The hush. Then applause.
Real. Warm. Stunned.
🎶 Scene Closing
The cast moves in closer. The desks, once arranged like a fortress, now feel more like a family dinner table. Kim starts tapping the beat of a famous trot song on the desk.
Kyung-hoon (surprised):
“You know that song?”
Kim Jong-un:
“My father loved it. Music crosses borders. That’s why I’m here. Maybe laughter can too.”
The camera pans back slowly. The room now buzzes—not with fear, but with possibility.
Cue theme music—this time blended with a soft rendition of Arirang.
On the chalkboard, a new line is written beneath today’s question:
“오늘의 전학생은… 나보다 먼저 웃은 사람.”
🧠 Final Thoughts – Scene 1 Summary:
Kim Jong-un enters the South Korean spotlight not with bravado, but with curiosity. The studio becomes a diplomatic living room. Humor breaks tension. Banana milk becomes a metaphor. And a tyrant becomes, at least for one episode, a guest among brothers.
Scene 2: Snack Diplomacy & Dialect Battles
🎛️ Setup: The Smell of Soft Power
A new aroma wafts through the studio. A wheeled-in cart has transformed one corner of the classroom into a humble cooking station, decorated with hanji paper banners reading:
“한반도 맛대결 (Korean Peninsula Flavor Battle)”
A chalkboard behind the cart now features two side-by-side columns:
| South Korea | North Korea |
|---|---|
| Banana Milk | Injo-gogi (soy meat) |
| Honey Butter Chips | Sweet Potato Rice Balls |
| Tteokbokki | Pyongyang Cold Noodles |
| Fried Chicken | Mushroom Stew |
Kang Ho-dong (rubbing his stomach):
“Let the diplomacy begin! Through our stomachs!”
Kim Jong-un (half-joking):
“Just don’t call it cultural surrender if I like your snacks.”
The cast laughs, visibly loosening. The kitchen battle begins.
🍴 Round 1: First Bite—Banana Milk
Kim Jong-un picks up a banana milk carton, carefully inspects it, and gently peels the straw wrapper. He inserts the straw like it’s a ceremonial act, takes a slow sip… and pauses.
Heechul (leaning in):
“Well?”
Kim Jong-un (smiling):
“This tastes like… what I thought Disneyland would be when I was twelve.”
Soo-geun:
“Sweet and fake?”
Kim Jong-un:
“No—illegal and glorious.”
The cast howls. Even the production crew chuckles from behind the cameras. The ice from Scene 1 continues to thaw.
🍟 Round 2: Kimchi Fry vs. Rice Balls
Kyung-hoon presents spicy kimchi fries.
Kim Jong-un offers sweet potato rice balls in return.
Young-chul tries one and exclaims:
“This tastes like humble genius. Like a grandma who knew too much about potatoes and too little about butter.”
Kim Jong-un (nodding):
“We had to create comfort without excess. Our food is survival with dignity.”
Everyone grows quiet for a second—not from awkwardness, but appreciation.
Ho-dong (chewing thoughtfully):
“There’s history in this. Like… chewable pride.”
🧪 Round 3: Soy Meat vs. Spicy Chicken
Heechul waves a drumstick:
“This is our national peace offering.”
Kim Jong-un counters with a slice of injo-gogi.
The camera zooms in on his amused expression as he watches Heechul chew.
Heechul (after a dramatic pause):
“I can’t tell if this is meat, tofu, or political metaphor.”
Kim Jong-un:
“Yes.”
🧠 Segment 2: Dialect Duel
The classroom desks are pushed back into place. A large display screen now shows the title:
“말이 통하는 그날까지 (Until Our Words Match)”
A buzzer sits between each pair of cast members. Kim Jong-un takes center desk.
Soo-geun (announcing dramatically):
“It’s time for our second challenge—North vs. South, Tongue Edition!”
⚔️ Round 1: North Korean Phrases
Phrase: “수령님을 뵙는 행운을 입다”
Guess: “To meet the boss?”
Correct Meaning: “To receive the honor of seeing the Leader”
Kim Jong-un:
“Also works if your boss is terrifying and omnipresent.”
Phrase: “소나무정신”
Guess: “Pine tree spirit?”
Correct: “Unyielding loyalty and endurance”
Ho-dong:
“So like when I resist dessert at night?”
Kim Jong-un:
“No. When you endure without reward.”
The laughter fades just long enough for the point to land.
⚔️ Round 2: Southern Slang
Phrase: “오저치고”
Kim (guessing): “Something about lunch and dinner, right?”
Heechul:
“Close! It’s Gen Z code: ‘Yesterday’s lunch, today’s dinner—repeat your flex.’”
Kim Jong-un:
“Aha. Recycling. We do that too. But less with Instagram.”
Phrase: “갑분싸”
Kim (correctly): “Suddenly, the mood dies.”
Kim Jong-un:
“Like… when I walked in at the beginning of the show.”
Everyone erupts. Even the translator backstage loses composure.
💬 Unexpected Turn: Truth Between Bites
They take a short break. The producers lower the studio lights just slightly for ambiance. The cast munches and sips in silence for a few seconds. The mood grows tender.
Kim Jong-un (after a quiet sip of tea):
“Growing up, I was told this country was our enemy. A neon lie on the other side of a wall.”
He looks up—directly at Ho-dong.
Kim:
“But sitting here… I see faces like mine. Laughing at the same jokes. That’s more dangerous than any weapon.”
A hush falls.
Ho-dong (softly):
“Maybe peace isn’t in treaties—it’s in seeing.”
🎤 Segment 3: “Sing Your Snack”
Kyung-hoon:
“Okay! Time for our last round. You must sing a Southern or Northern song—while cooking a dish from the other side.”
Kim Jong-un (eyebrow raised):
“Punishment?”
Heechul:
“You eat spicy noodles dipped in banana milk.”
Kim:
“I’ve survived worse.”
🎶 Kim’s Song Choice: “아리랑” (Arirang)
He begins softly. Not performative. Intimate. It’s the Northern version—slower, steadier, deeper.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, he shifts mid-verse into the Southern version—faster and melodic.
Kim Jong-un (singing, gently):
“아리랑, 아리랑, 아라리요…”
The cast members slowly join in, their voices layered like hope. The camera pulls back, showing a circle of desks, of men in different uniforms singing one song.
One room. One sound.
🎁 Final Bite: The Gimbap with a Story
A quiet knock at the set’s side door. A producer brings in a small bento box. Inside: a single gimbap roll. Homemade. With a note:
“For the guest who dared to cross a line. From a grandmother who lost her brother in 1950.”
Kim reads the note. For the first time, he doesn’t speak. He bows his head, then picks up a piece.
Kim Jong-un (quietly):
“Tell her… this tastes like home I never visited.”
Silence. No audience laughter. Just… stillness.
🎬 Scene Close
The lights dim slowly. A small subtitle fades in:
“When language softens and food is shared, even history sits down for a moment.”
The camera zooms in on the empty plate. Then pans to the chalkboard, where someone has written:
“우리는 같은 입맛을 가졌습니다. (We have the same taste.)”
🧠 Scene 2 Summary:
In a classroom-turned-kitchen, flavor becomes a metaphor for memory, dialect becomes a tool for laughter, and for a fleeting moment, the tongue proves more powerful than ideology. The real diplomacy? Listening between bites.
Scene 3: Games We Can’t Play in Pyongyang
🎡 Scene Open – A Carnival Inside a Country That Never Had One
The classroom set is now partially transformed. Bright-colored game props fill the space: hula hoops, trivia buzzers, a spinning prize wheel labeled “Unification or Punishment,” and a large screen above reading:
“게임은 자유다! (Games are Freedom!)”
The music shifts into an upbeat K-pop medley. A smoke machine misfires slightly, filling the air with a little too much fog. The cast waves it away, coughing and laughing.
Heechul (giggling):
“Someone tell the fog machine it’s not filming a Cold War documentary.”
Kim Jong-un (wiping eyes):
“I thought that was tear gas for a second.”
The audience howls—this time with real comfort. Laughter now flows naturally, like breath finally being let out after years of silence.
🎯 Segment 1: “This or That – South vs North Edition”
The screen flashes with prompts. The rules are simple: pick between two choices. No explanations allowed.
Soo-geun (announcing):
"Chairman Kim, answer fast. Gut reaction only. Ready?"
Kim Jong-un (grinning):
“I’ve run a country. I think I can handle a game show.”
⚖️ Question 1:
“Ramyeon or Naengmyeon?”
Kim: “Naengmyeon. Cold. Clean. Doesn’t fog your mind.”
Heechul: “Also doesn’t come with a drama plot.”
⚖️ Question 2:
“State Dinner or Convenience Store Feast?”
Kim: “GS25… with nobody watching.”
Kyung-hoon (mock gasp):
“North Korea has GS25s now?!”
Kim (winking):
“Not officially.”
⚖️ Question 3:
“Sunglasses or Smile?”
Kim hesitates.
Kim:
“…Sunglasses protect. Smiles expose. But I think I’m ready to try the second one.”
The cast pauses, slightly stunned by his candor.
🤪 Segment 2: “Forbidden Games from Pyongyang”
A sign drops dramatically from the ceiling:
“북한에서 못하는 게임들 (Games You Can’t Play in North Korea)”
Ho-dong (excited):
“Let’s find out which of our favorite childhood games are illegal in Pyongyang!”
🎈 Game 1: Whisper Chain
They form a circle. First phrase:
“BLACKPINK in your area.”
It morphs into:
“Breadsticks cause hysteria.”
Kim Jong-un (trying to hold it together):
“I wish our intelligence network was this chaotic.”
👓 Game 2: Celebrity Impersonations
Kyung-hoon mimics BTS’s RM.
Young-chul pretends to be Park Chan-wook directing a North Korean rom-com.
They hand Kim a card: “Act like a South Korean comedian.”
He freezes.
Kim Jong-un (after a beat):
“Okay. I’m… Kim Young-chul.”
He raises both arms and belts out, “지금은~ 웃을 시간!” (Now is the time to laugh!)
The impression is spot-on.
The cast and audience erupt.
🎲 Game 3: “Truth or Sanction”
A customized version of Truth or Dare. The spinner lands on Kim.
Truth Prompt:
“What’s one thing you’ve never said out loud?”
A long silence.
Kim Jong-un (softly):
“I… have envied people who can just be themselves.”
The laughter vanishes like vapor.
Ho-dong (after a pause):
"Hyung… you just were."
🪞 Segment 3: “Guess the Meme”
The screen displays random popular memes from South Korea, mostly absurd or trending online jokes.
Image 1: Cat in sunglasses on a pile of cash
Caption: “돈은 다 내꺼야 (All this money is mine)”
Kim Jong-un (deadpan):
“That cat has better foreign reserves than our national bank.”
Image 2: A selfie stick funeral meme
Caption: “RIP my motivation”
Kim:
“I believe this image was banned in my country last week.”
The room cracks up. The camera zooms in on Kim's face—he’s laughing now. Really laughing. Not staged. Not for optics. Just joy.
🎭 Segment 4: “Who’s the Real Dictator?”
Heechul:
“We’ve prepared a surprise round. Let’s play: ‘Who’s the Real Dictator?’”
The screen displays fake headlines, and Kim has to guess whether they’re real, fake, or could apply to him.
“Leader bans sarcasm for national safety.”
Kim: “Fake. But… I considered it once.”“Leader invents new calendar based on his birthday.”
Kim: “Real. My grandfather did that. Not me. Yet.”“Leader joins TikTok and goes viral with mukbang.”
Kim: “If I ever defect, that’s my plan.”
🎤 Pause for Reflection – Games as Freedom
Kim Jong-un (after laughter dies down):
“In my country, games are… rare. Everything must serve a purpose. Discipline. Strength. Order.”
He looks around.
Kim:
“But watching grown men throw cheese slices at each other’s faces? That’s… beautiful chaos. That’s freedom.”
Young-chul:
“You’re welcome to stay. We do this every week.”
🎁 End of Scene Surprise
The crew wheels in a small surprise gift: a vintage South Korean arcade machine—loaded with old-school games like Tekken, Metal Slug, and DDR.
Soo-geun:
“This one’s yours. Take it back to Pyongyang.”
Kim Jong-un (grinning):
“Only if it comes with a firewall bypass.”
🎬 Scene Close
As the cast cheers and takes selfies around the arcade machine, the camera pans slowly over the chalkboard where someone has written:
“Freedom is the ability to play without asking permission.”
The room fades to black with the sound of a plastic toy buzzer ringing out one last time.
🧠 Scene 3 Summary:
In the space between parody and truth, Kim Jong-un finds himself in games he was never allowed to play—impressions, memes, silly questions, moments of unscripted laughter. For the first time, perhaps, he’s not leading, commanding, or defending. He’s just… playing.
Scene 4: Confessions We Weren’t Allowed to Say
🌘 Scene Open – A Shift in Atmosphere
The lights in the studio dim. The desks have been pushed back. The wall of the set behind them is now a soft gray curtain lit by a single spotlight.
There’s no music, no props, no slides. Just seven chairs in a semi-circle, facing inward.
A title appears on the classroom chalkboard in subdued handwriting:
“우리 안의 진심 (The Truth Inside Us)”
Kang Ho-dong walks to the center. His voice is quieter than usual.
Ho-dong:
“We’ve laughed. We’ve eaten. We’ve even played forbidden games. But there’s one game we haven’t played yet—being honest.”
He gestures toward the circle.
Ho-dong:
“One at a time, no jokes, no characters. Just truth. Say something you’ve never said on TV before.”
He sits. The room quiets. And the first confession begins.
🧍♂️ Confession 1 – Heechul
Heechul (half-smiling, eyes down):
“I pretend to be fearless on camera. But honestly… I’m tired of pretending I don’t care when people tear me apart online. I read it all. I remember the cruelest ones. They echo louder than applause.”
He glances up at Kim.
Heechul:
“I wonder if you feel that too… except the world calls you a villain instead of a clown.”
Kim Jong-un (softly):
“They call me both.”
🧍♂️ Confession 2 – Kyung-hoon
Kyung-hoon (clears throat):
“My family still doesn’t watch this show. They think being funny isn’t a ‘real’ job. But I make people laugh for a living. Isn’t that enough?”
He turns to Kim.
Kyung-hoon:
“What about you? Do your people see you as enough?”
Kim Jong-un (after a pause):
“They see what I allow them to see. I’ve never been sure if that counts.”
🧍♂️ Confession 3 – Kim Jong-un
The room stills.
Kim leans forward, fingers laced tightly together. He looks like a student asked to present in front of a class—not a dictator on a goodwill tour.
Kim Jong-un:
“People say I’m untouchable. That I live in a palace. That I control every minute of every citizen’s life. Some of that is true. But none of it means I sleep well.”
No one interrupts.
Kim Jong-un (continuing):
“I’ve done things I won’t defend. I’ve carried decisions that killed. Some were calculated. Some were… reactions. All of them haunt me.”
He exhales, jaw tense. A long pause.
Kim:
“There’s a boy inside me who just wanted to draw. To ride a bike. To fall in love and not wonder if that love was watching him back with fear.”
His voice cracks slightly. Not enough to break. Just enough to shake the air.
Kim:
“But that boy had a bloodline. So he became someone else. And now… I’m here. In front of comedians. Wondering if I’m still real.”
A silence so pure it vibrates.
Soo-geun breaks it—not with a joke, but with warmth.
Soo-geun:
“If you’re wondering if you’re real… it means you are.”
🧍♂️ Confession 4 – Soo-geun
Soo-geun:
“I joke about everything. That’s my shield. But last year, my daughter asked me, ‘Daddy, why do you always make people laugh but never look happy yourself?’”
He smiles, but his voice wavers.
Soo-geun:
“I didn’t have an answer. I still don’t.”
🧍♂️ Confession 5 – Young-chul
Young-chul:
“I was the poor kid from the countryside. Got bullied. Called slow. Even now, I feel like I’m performing worthiness—not just comedy.”
He looks at Kim, more serious than we’ve ever seen him.
Young-chul:
“You’re here trying to be seen as human. I’ve spent my life trying to be seen as enough. Maybe we’re not so different.”
🧍♂️ Confession 6 – Ho-dong
Ho-dong (eyes closed):
“When I retired from wrestling, I thought I lost all value. Now I yell on variety shows to fill that hole. But no matter how loud I get, silence still finds me at night.”
He opens his eyes.
Ho-dong:
“I’ve always wondered… is power louder than loneliness?”
Kim doesn’t speak. He just gives a small nod. Not in agreement—just in understanding.
🔦 The Unexpected Confession
From behind the camera, someone clears their throat. A young assistant director, no older than 26, steps forward. She bows.
AD (nervously):
“I’m sorry. I’m not part of the cast, but I… I want to say something.”
The producers nod. Let her speak.
AD:
“My grandmother was separated from her sister during the war. She watched this episode backstage and told me something before she left.”
Everyone leans in.
AD:
“She said, ‘Tell the guest from Pyongyang… I forgive you. Not because you asked, but because I need to be free.’”
Kim’s face falters. Just for a second.
Then he whispers, more to the floor than to anyone in particular:
Kim Jong-un:
“She didn’t have to forgive me. But I needed her to.”
🕯️ Closing Image
The circle stays silent. No applause. No outro music.
On the chalkboard behind them, someone writes in white chalk:
“우리는 처음으로 서로를 봤습니다. (For the first time, we saw each other.)”
🧠 Scene 4 Summary:
When the jokes stop, what remains is the terrifying gift of honesty. In a space where masks are currency, the men of Knowing Bros and their guest drop them—for a moment, not as celebrities or leaders, but as sons, husbands, brothers, and broken boys. For once, nobody performs. Everyone simply tells the truth.
Scene 5: Goodbye, Comra
🌤️ Scene Open – Resetting the Stage, Gently
The lights rise slowly—not to full brightness, but enough to reawaken the studio after the hush of confessions.
The classroom desks are back in place. Banana milk cartons, crumpled tissues, and laughter-creased name cards still linger on the table. A subtle Korean folk tune plays in the background—something between hope and nostalgia.
A sign now hangs above the chalkboard:
“오늘의 전학생 – 김정은 (Today’s Transfer Student: Kim Jong-un)”
Kang Ho-dong stands at the center, holding a small wooden bell—the kind teachers used to ring at the end of class.
Ho-dong (smiling softly):
“Well… the bell doesn’t dismiss the student. The student dismisses the bell.”
He gestures to Kim Jong-un.
“Classmate Kim, would you like to say a few words before you head back to… your other classroom?”
🎤 Kim Jong-un’s Farewell
Kim Jong-un rises. His blazer is slightly rumpled now, his tie slightly loosened. He doesn’t look like a tyrant or a politician. He looks… tired, thoughtful, and maybe a little grateful.
He glances at each of the cast members before he begins.
Kim:
“I came here expecting to be treated like a headline. Or a villain. Or a curiosity.”
He pauses.
Kim:
“But you all treated me like something far more dangerous—a person.”
A soft murmur moves through the audience.
Kim (continuing):
“I didn’t come here to apologize. Not formally. Not diplomatically. But sitting in this classroom… I felt what it means to be seen without the weight of titles.”
He looks down at his hands.
Kim:
“My people see me from below. The world sees me from far away. Today… I was seen from across a table. That distance was the hardest to cross.”
🧃 Heechul’s Response
Heechul clears his throat, walks up, and places one more banana milk in front of Kim.
Heechul:
“You said you envied people who can be themselves. Well—this is our drink of truth, hyung. We’ve cried with it, confessed with it, and now…”
He raises his carton.
Heechul:
“Let’s toast to your next version. Whoever he is.”
They tap cartons. Plastic against plastic. The sound is small. But it echoes like thunder.
🎶 The Song Begins
Suddenly, from the back of the studio, a string quartet begins to play. It's subtle, unexpected—an acoustic version of “Spring Day” by BTS—slowed down, bittersweet.
Soo-geun (quietly):
“I didn’t know we booked live music…”
Producer (off-camera):
“We didn’t.”
The camera pans to the musicians: four teenage students—two from Seoul, two defectors from the North. Their school jackets are mismatched, but they play in perfect harmony.
Kim stares in stunned silence.
🪞 The Mirror Gift
Young-chul stands and walks over with a large, wrapped rectangle.
Young-chul:
“We have a parting gift. It’s not a medal. It’s not a flag. It’s a mirror.”
He unwraps it slowly, revealing a full-length mirror. At the top, carved in hanja:
“나를 본다, 너를 이해한다 (To see myself is to understand you)”
Young-chul (smiling):
“Because before the world sees a new you… you should.”
Kim walks up and touches the frame gently. He looks at his reflection for a long time.
Then nods.
📸 Final Class Photo
Ho-dong:
“One last tradition, classmate—every transfer student gets a group photo. And no, you don’t get to review it before it goes online.”
The cast lines up in front of the chalkboard. Kim is in the center.
He looks unsure of how to pose.
Heechul (nudging him):
“Just smile. Or glare. Whatever makes you feel like a human today.”
Kim smirks—then laughs. A real laugh.
FLASH.
The photo is taken. The moment captured.
The chalkboard behind them now reads:
“같은 반이 아니었어도, 같은 날을 보냈다. (We may not be classmates forever, but today—we shared the same day.)”
✉️ A Letter, Read Aloud
Kyung-hoon suddenly holds up a sealed letter.
Kyung-hoon:
“This arrived during the taping. No return address. Just marked: ‘To the Guest.’ Can I read it?”
Kim nods.
Kyung-hoon (reading):
"Dear stranger in the spotlight,
I don’t know if I can ever trust you. I don’t know if I should.
But today, I remembered your country is not just soldiers and silence.
It has eyes. Ears. Mouths. Like mine.
And maybe—hearts, too.
You showed me yours, if only for an hour.
I’ll try to remember that next time I feel like hating you."
The room holds its breath.
Kim Jong-un (quietly):
“That might be the most honest peace treaty I’ve ever received.”
👞 The Shoes Exchange
As Kim prepares to leave, Ho-dong removes his sneakers and places them by the door. Kim looks confused.
Ho-dong:
“In Korean custom, when someone special visits your house, you send them off with something of yours—to remind them they’re welcome again.”
Kim hesitates, then unties his own black loafers—shined to perfection—and places them beside Ho-dong’s worn sneakers.
Kim:
“These were made for standing still. I’d like to try walking in yours for once.”
They bow. Deeply. Not ceremonially. Not politically. Just… sincerely.
🌅 Final Image: Departure
Kim walks to the door. He pauses. Looks back. The cast is waving. Not as entertainers. As brothers.
He turns. Steps out into the Seoul air.
Outside the studio, no fanfare. No entourage. Just a man walking quietly in a pair of borrowed sneakers.
The screen fades to black.
Words appear:
“Borders are not only lines. They are stories we are afraid to rewrite.”
“Today, one was edited.”
🧠 Scene 5 Summary:
There is no real ending to reconciliation—only quiet moments of courage that ask, “What if?” In this final scene, Kim Jong-un doesn’t become a hero or a villain. He becomes a student of his own humanity—just long enough to leave footprints across the line we thought would never blur.
Final Thought by Ho-Dong
(Lights dim. The set is quiet. Kim Jong-un has just left. Ho-dong remains seated at the desk, looking at Kim’s empty chair.)
Kang Ho-dong:
"That was the strangest episode of my life.
And also… maybe the most important.
We laughed. We played.
We even sat in a circle and told truths we didn’t know we were carrying.
He didn’t come to erase the past.
He didn’t ask for forgiveness.
He just showed up.
And sometimes…
just showing up, without a script or a flag,
is the bravest thing you can do.
We’re not here to decide what kind of man he is.
We’re just here to say: for one day,
he was one of us.
And honestly?
That gives me hope.
Not because everything changed today—
but because for once,
something did."
(He glances at the chalkboard one last time.)
Kang Ho-dong:
"Class dismissed. But don’t forget what we learned."
Short Bios:
Kang Ho-dong:
A beloved South Korean TV host and former champion wrestler, known for his booming energy, sharp timing, and deep emotional range that often surprises guests and audiences alike.
Lee Soo-geun:
A veteran comedian famous for his quick wit and expressive reactions. He thrives in unpredictable situations and often anchors chaotic moments with grounded humor.
Kim Hee-chul:
An entertainer and K-pop idol known for his sharp tongue, trend-savvy commentary, and emotionally intelligent jabs. He mixes boldness with sincerity in unexpected ways.
Kim Young-chul:
A stand-up comedian and self-aware humorist, often playing the role of cheerful outsider with a strong sense of timing and exaggerated confidence.
Min Kyung-hoon:
Ballad singer and the show's "innocent oddball." His calm, dreamy demeanor contrasts with the louder cast members, often delivering understated gems.
Transfer Student (Fictionalized):
A fictional character inspired by the concept of a North Korean guest, reimagined as a curious, guarded but introspective young man seeking connection through shared culture, humor, and quiet moments of vulnerability.
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