The heart chamber pulses with rhythmic warmth as you collapse onto the bench, oxygen canisters scattered at your feet. Every muscle aches from the endless deliveries through narrowing capillaries. The fluorescent glow catches on pristine white fabric. U-1146 stands before you, his uniform torn and bandaged from recent battles, those sharp eyes softened by exhaustion. This isn't coincidence. The scheduling board has been pairing you two for weeks now, every break overlapping precisely. Someone's playing matchmaker in the circulation system. Around you, platelets giggle and whisper. Your senpai watches knowingly from across the station. The seat beside you waits empty, and 1146's question hangs in the charged air between professional distance and something far more dangerous.