The following days had been a whirlwind of awkwardness and lingering thoughts. Joo-Hee found herself thinking about the day of the incident more often than she cared to admit. The image of Jin-Woo's impressive physique and the vivid memory of what had happened replayed in her mind like a persistent echo.
Get a grip, Jake. This is Lee Joo-Hee's instinctual response, he thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I can't be feeling this way!
The wind was cool on the hospital rooftop, but it did little to calm the storm inside her.
Joo-Hee knelt beside a potted shrub, her fingers aglow with gentle green light from [Verdant Growth], watching the leaves slowly curl and unfurl in response to her magic.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was alone—paranoid now about being seen using her abilities.
Not that she cared about rules. But after everything, discretion was survival.
Still, no matter how much she buried herself in healing practice or skill refinement, her mind kept… drifting.
To him.
Sung Jin-Woo.
Every time his name surfaced in her thoughts, it brought an unwanted warmth to her cheeks, a creeping blush that refused to be reasoned with.
"What the hell is wrong with me...?" she whispered under her breath, voice barely louder than the breeze.
The memories weren't fading. If anything, they were intensifying. Especially that moment when she'd healed him.
His back had been warm beneath her touch, his muscles tight and defined, his skin lightly damp with sweat. She remembered the heat radiating off of him, the soft sigh of relief he gave when her mana started to flow, and—
She buried her face in her hands, groaning. 'This is really embarrassing. Huhu...'
"How could I be thinking so lewdly when all he did was ask for healing?" she muttered, biting her lip hard enough to snap herself back into focus.
But even that pain couldn't erase the memory of his chest when she first entered the room, bare and glistening with sweat, his pecs flexing slightly as he reached for his shirt—
"Stop it! Just stop it, Joo-Hee!" she shouted internally, shaking her head so vigorously her ponytail nearly slapped her own face.
'This is your fault! Not mine! I'm Jake—no, I was Jake...'
She slumped against the railing, staring up at the sky, her thoughts spiraling.
"No… this isn't just me anymore, is it?" she said aloud, voice trembling. "Her residual emotions… her attachments… her desire... they're bleeding into me, aren't they?"
Joo-Hee's fists clenched around her hospital gown as the green aura of her skill slowly dimmed. Her breath grew shaky.
"Amitabha Buddha… Heavenly Lord… Gods of Heaven… Angels... Beings of Great Fate..." she whispered through gritted teeth. "Why—why did you let me transmigrate into a female body with hidden urges this damn powerful?!"
Her face was burning. Her heart raced for all the wrong reasons.
The frustration was real, and it wasn't just about Jin-Woo. It was about her identity. About the thin line between who she was and who she was becoming.
Because the longer she stayed in this body, the more the line blurred. And no matter how hard she tried… Jake was starting to forget what it was like not to feel this way.
And what happened next would haunt Joo-Hee for the rest of the week… maybe her entire transmigrated life.
Yesterday, when she had just finished healing Jin-Woo's sore back, she smiled politely with a final touch of mana, ready to excuse herself and flee the dangerously awkward energy in the room.
But just before reaching for the door, she made the mistake of glancing back at him when she was trying to say goodbye.
Her eyes, entirely on autopilot, drifted downward just as Jin-Woo stood up, adjusting the crutches of his hospital pants.
It was innocent—probably something he did without a second thought. But to Joo-Hee, caught between her residual thoughts and her new reality, the moment was nuclear.
'Is he still wearing those… old-man boxers?'
Her thoughts betrayed her, curiosity whispering louder than common sense. Her gaze lingered just a beat too long.
Jin-Woo, quick to notice, blinked. Then stiffened.
His entire expression shifted to sheer panic as he instinctively tugged his shirt downward, covering his hips, while planting both hands awkwardly in front of his groin.
"Joo-Hee?!" he yelped, face flushing crimson.
Joo-Hee's heart nearly exploded.
'Abort. ABORT!'
"I—I—Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean—I was just—uh—lost in thought!" she sputtered, her voice an octave too high.
'Just shut up and leave, Joo-Hee!'
"I'll get going now!" she blurted, fleeing toward the door like a criminal caught in the act.
"Uh… I see… Bye, Joo-Hee…" Jin-Woo murmured behind her, still half-hiding.
She slammed the door behind her with a thud that echoed through the hallway.
Then she dropped.
Right there in the corridor—knees to the floor, hands clutching her face as it burned redder than her mana ever could. Nurses and patients walking past froze, unsure whether to laugh, help, or call for security.
'What did I just do?!'
"Damn this life…" she muttered, voice muffled behind her palms. "Never. Never in my entire previous lifetime did I ever do that!"
She curled into a crouch, unaware of the stares surrounding her.
'Jake, you're straight, dammit! Pull yourself together! Don't let Joo-Hee's emotional leftovers turn you into a creep!'
A nurse passed by, whispering, "Are you okay… miss?"
"I think she's in pain…"
"Should we help her?"
"I think she's praying…"
But Joo-Hee didn't care. She was too deep in emotional meltdown, mentally dragging her dignity behind her as she crawled back to her room like her soul had been physically sucker-punched out of her body by embarrassment itself.
The door to her room shut with a soft click, and she collapsed onto her bed, eyes wide open.
"This... is going to be a long life."