Transmigrating to Heal His Heart

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the hospital room as Joey sat on the edge of the bed, rolling his stiff shoulders. The stark white walls and the quiet beeping of the heart monitor were a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind.

The slight chill in the air was a reminder—he was no longer in his original body. A glance at his reflection in the bedside mirror confirmed it—sharp features, tousled dark hair, and piercing eyes that looked both arrogant and distant.

A face that belonged to a notorious playboy.

A face that Ethan, the original protagonist of this world, absolutely despised.

Joey exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting to the young man standing near the doorway, arms crossed over his chest like a protective shield. Ethan.

His posture screamed discomfort, as if standing in the same room as Joey was an unbearable ordeal. Joey didn't blame him—after all, the original owner of this body had spent years mocking and humiliating Ethan, treating him like a joke.

And then there was Noah.

Noah stood to Joey's right, wearing a concerned smile. But Joey didn't miss the calculating gleam in his eyes. The boy radiated warmth and friendliness, but something about it felt too measured—too perfect.

"Joey, you good now?" Noah asked, tilting his head. "You scared the hell out of us, passing out like that."

Joey blinked. Us?

His gaze flickered to Ethan again.

So Ethan was the one who actually got me to the hospital.

A smirk tugged at Joey's lips, but he quickly suppressed it. Interesting.

"Well, I appreciate the concern," he said smoothly.

Ethan scoffed, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Don't act like this is some friendly situation. You drank yourself stupid, and I wasn't about to let you die in a ditch."

Joey's smirk widened. Classic Ethan. Always acting tough, even when he's doing something kind.

Noah chuckled, nudging Joey's arm in a playful manner. "See? Even Ethan cares about you."

The words were meant to be lighthearted, but Joey noticed the way Ethan's jaw tensed slightly.

Noah was testing him.

If Joey responded too warmly, Noah might grow suspicious. If he acted too cold, he'd risk pushing Ethan further away.

Balance, Joey. Find the balance.

He exhaled a short laugh and leaned back against the pillows. "Well, since you care so much, Ethan, should I expect you to be my personal babysitter now?"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Don't push your luck."

But Joey caught the way Ethan's gaze lingered on him for a split second longer, as if trying to figure something out.

A nurse entered then, breaking the tension. "Mr. Miller, you're free to leave, but avoid excessive drinking and get some rest."

Joey grinned. "No promises."

Noah patted his shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Ethan turned to leave, and for a moment, Joey debated letting him go. But something in him refused to let this end on such a bitter note.

"Ethan."

The name rolled off Joey's tongue naturally, making Ethan pause. He didn't turn around, but Joey knew he was listening.

"…Thanks."

It wasn't much. Just a simple word. But it was enough to make Ethan hesitate before finally walking out the door.

Joey smirked to himself.

One step at a time.

---

Later That Night

Joey sat in front of his bedroom mirror, studying his reflection. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face, making his features look sharper.

His mind replayed everything that had happened since he arrived in this world.

The original Joey had been arrogant, reckless, and a relentless flirt. He had built a reputation for playing with people's feelings, and Ethan had been his favorite target.

Noah, despite his friendly persona, was keeping a close watch on him. Joey had felt it—the subtle way Noah studied him, as if searching for cracks in his usual behavior.

And Ethan…

Joey leaned forward, elbows resting on the wooden desk.

Ethan wasn't the cold, untouchable person the original Joey had painted him to be. He had a strong sense of responsibility—why else would he have made sure Joey got to the hospital? But there was a wall between them, one built from years of resentment and mistrust.

Joey needed to break through it.

But that would take time.

A system notification suddenly appeared in the air in front of him.

[Mission Progress: 2%]

Joey sighed. Only 2%?

He stretched his arms above his head and flopped onto the bed. He had his work cut out for him.

Tomorrow, he'd take another step forward.

For now, he let himself rest, the soft hum of the system's presence fading into the background.

---

Meanwhile…

In a darkened room across town, Noah sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. The glow from the screen illuminated his sharp features, his usual bright smile nowhere to be found.

He scrolled through old messages—the ones from Joey before the accident. Flirtatious, teasing, reckless Joey.

Joey, who had always been at his side.

Joey, who was suddenly acting… differently.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Something had changed.

And Noah didn't like it.

Not one bit.