The redheaded erythrocyte pressed up against the wall, her hands behind her back. She impatiently glanced at the clock on the wall of the corridor. It had already been three minutes; would he have missed the rendezvous? Pretty unlikely, coming from him.

Days had gone by after their last encounter, which was interrupted by an invasion. Once more, she steeled herself and asked another Macrophage to help her locating her friend, receiving a confused look as first answer. Nevertheless, AE3803 was quickly getting the hang of it; learning to ignore cocked eyebrows and frowns from the immune cell she walked up to was not a difficult task after all.

A pristine white uniform came into view, making her lift her gaze. U-1146 approached half-smiling, his thumbs tucked in his pockets. At first sight, you couldn't tell he was such a shrinking violet.

"Hey there, Red Blood Cell. I'm sorry to keep you waiting." He apologized, standing right in front of her. She beamed.

"Nah, don't worry. Look at you! You seem happy." They started walking together towards an uncertain direction, swayed by the flow of other circulating cells.

"Guess I am." The neutrophil licked his lips, his gaze falling to the floor. "All done with your deliveries?" he asked with interest.

"Yup! Just handed over a basketful of nutrients." He silently nodded, slowing down his pace so she could keep up with him. After a couple of meters, she added. "So, what do you have in mind?"

The immune cell suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Wanna go to a concert?" he asked, now facing her. The young woman's jaw dropped.

"Are there concerts? Like actual ones?" he shrugged.

"Well, sometimes, music comes from the outer world through the ear. There are big amplifiers next to a huge screen. Also, a twice-a-neutrophil wide tunnel packed with wires, which connect underground and will reach the brain. Once processed, the information comes back, and the lyrics appear on the screen." He explained somewhat excited, remembering his past hits. "I call them concerts, nobody sings though."

Her eyes glimmered with enthusiasm, not believing such a place existed. "Why do I always miss the best parts of this world? You're a lifesaver, White Blood Cell. In more ways than one," she said, lifting a finger. The white-haired chuckled, one hand on his hip.

"Let's get on our way before it ends, then," he said as he resumed his walk, the redhead copying him. "I can't always enjoy myself there for too long; the ear is a flamboyant, neon lights-covered entry hall for intruders. Thankfully, earwax does most of the work." He drew up his transceiver and pressed a button. "This is 1146. I'm going on patrol near the right ear. Over."

A crackling voice replied right away. "Roger. Have some fun for once, dude! U-2626 out."

"Hey, is there a concert? Why don't I ever get invited? You party poopers." U-4989's characterful voice complained. U-1146 snorted, as the redhead curiously eavesdropped.

"Get back to work, sluggard," the deep voiced neutrophil gently teased.

"Shut up you noisy wimps! I'm trying to get some shut-eye." Another neutrophil whose voice AE3083 couldn't identify replied, clearly joking as well.

"Boo." U-2626 heckled.

All said, they ended their communication and U-1146 stuck his transceiver back into his pocket. It was endearing to see such a close-knit relationship between them, after all they had been raised together and behaved as siblings. It made the erythrocyte feel somewhat relieved, knowing they all had each other's back during and out of battle.

The neutrophil led the way, knowing the path towards the ear expertly. He was glad to see how thrilled the erythrocyte was. She resembled a platelet visiting a fun-park for the first time.

"So, tell me. How did you know there was a concert going on right now?" the redhead wondered, curiously waiting for his answer. He tapped a finger on his chin.

"U-2626 was just patrolling near the cochlea and told me right away. Well, let's assume I really like that place, and as you may already know, it's no big secret for them," the neutrophil snorted, half-smiling.

"Senpai never told me about it, and she knows every fun corner of this world. It has to be a very special coincidence to have music in the ears, then."

The man shrugged nonchalantly at her explanation. "Maybe she was so busy she never noticed. That's what usually happens, always too engrossed in our corresponding chores. I was just lucky to find out."

"My lips will be sealed, then. You won't fancy finding your special spot crowded with red-dressed slackers," she giggled. "Thank you for showing me."

"Don't worry about it too much. Although I'd be very grateful if you didn't scream it at the top of your lungs everywhere you go. You can bring some friends next time you go, though." The albino sincerely smiled. He had been getting remarkably better at it recently.

The redhead sensed the sudden urge to come closer and hug him as touchy-feely as she was. However, she took a grip on herself before doing something she could be regretting later. She remembered how uncomfortable her friend became when she got too close during the workout session, although she had been unaware about it. AE3803 absolutely wanted to respect his preferences, and if so it should be, his space.

The erythrocyte hadn't noticed the observant black eye on her during her rumination.

"What's the matter, Red Blood Cell?" his concern openly showed, having witnessed his friend go from 100 to 0 in a matter of seconds. She recovered immediately after hearing his voice.

"No biggie, it's all good." The young woman reassured him, but he read her too well to let it pass.

"You were pouting." They took a turn left.

"Was I? Gee, my face does weird things sometimes," she played it down, fixing her smile back into her face. The man's forehead furrowed in disappointment.

"If there's something bothering you, you can always tell me. I don't bite." The redhead suddenly turned her gaze towards him, lifting an eyebrow. "Yeah well, technically, I do. But you can always count on me," he assured not tearing his eye away from her, on the look for any faint sudden frown. She was better at hiding her emotions than he expected.

"Thank you, Mister cop, but I couldn't feel better," she openly smiled. Before he could protest, they arrived at their destination, faint music playing at the distance. The young woman gasped at the sight; it wasn't the big thing after all, but you didn't find stereos and screens all over the body.

The delighted red blood cell tugged at his sleeve, dragging him towards the scene. The music became louder and louder as they walked, and only a few cells could be found in the square surrounding the sound equipment.

"Here we are. The organ of Corti."

"What does it do?" she eagerly asked, as if she were still a young cell maturing at the bone marrow. The young man crossed his bulky arms, studying the structure.

"You see that giant tube behind the screen? The sound waves coming from the eardrum turn into motion force as they pump water inside that pipe. This flow makes a water wheel turn, and converts kinetic energy into electricity, which will be conducted by the wires I told you before, over there," he pointed towards a huge tube which disappeared into the ground, her hazel eyes following his indications. "In short, it turns sound into an electrical signal. Wonderful, isn't it?"

"That's impressive, White Blood Cell," she mumbled in awe, her friend nodding in agreement. "Oh, and the structure is cool too. Are you guys good at everything you do?"

The man frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I'm talking about you, smartpants. Isn't it exhausting being perfect all the time?" she teased him as she cocked an eyebrow, some color raising to his cheeks.

"I, uh- I was just curious and the outer hair cells kindly explained it to me. These guys get all the credit; they are the engineers who make this possible." He explained as he waved towards one of them, wearing protective goggles and rubber gloves.

"It's funny how you play it down whenever someone praises you," she insisted, enjoying flustering him, but being careful on not crossing a line. He scratched the side of his jaw.

"You're making me blush, Red Blood Cell…"

"Alright, alright, I'll let your self-loathing self alone," they smiled at each other. "Wanna have a seat?" she asked pointing at the benches.

"Sounds good."

They approached the nearer seat and took their respective places on it. The neutrophil started humming the song being played at that moment, earning a surprised look from his friend. He stopped, self-conscious. "No, I just... It's great to see you this excited! Please, don't stop," she apologized, raising her hands. Nevertheless, he didn't resume his singing, still a bit coy. The song came to an end and the rest of few cells started clapping. The erythrocyte enthusiastically clapped along.

As soon as the first guitar chords of the next song sounded, the neutrophil got startled. "METALLICA!" he suddenly blurted, slapping his knees with his palms. The erythrocyte flinched away from him, a hand on her chest. A soft laugh escaped her lips while sitting straight again. "Oh, sorry, Red Blood Cell. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't worry. Again, it's fun to see you that fired up. You know this one too, I assume." He leant on the back of the bench; arms crossed. A slight smile formed around his mouth.

"Yup. Do you?" the young woman shook her head, her bright red hair swaying around her face.

"The only music I've listened was from random radio stations on different cells' houses, while delivering O2. Maybe back in the bone marrow too. Macrophages used to teach us songs, but they were more like lullabies." She sighed with nostalgia, looking at her hands resting on her lap.

"You can always get a radio for your flat, can't you?"

"True, I just keep forgetting. I gotta admit I've always loved singing; I wish music was more present in my life. Thank you for bringing me here," the petite erythrocyte smiled. U-1146 held her gaze before gently shaking his head.

"Don't mention it. I really wanted to show you this place," he admitted, entwining his fingers. "Look, the lyrics are now on the screen," the neutrophil pointed out after a while, the words appearing on the giant TV in synchro with the song. They stared at it.

After a few seconds, the man turned his head towards her, as he rested his forearms on his knees. "This song has been played so many times the Central Nervous System recognizes it right away, they already know the lyrics by heart."

"Same goes for you?" she took her beret off and left it on her side. He nodded.

"Yeah, pretty much. I like it, quite a lot."

They stayed in silence for a while, the erythrocyte paying attention to both the music and words.

"It's a romantic ballad. Kinda bittersweet, though. I wouldn't have pegged you for that kind of guy, White Blood Cell," she chuckled softly. That cell was indeed a box of surprises. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, hiding his eye under his cap.

"Uhm, don't tell Killer T I listen to soppy music, please," he joked, a smile displaying on his lips. They both laughed.

"I'll keep your second little secret safe. Besides, I wouldn't voluntarily speak to that guy even if they paid me," she admitted, grinning.

"Deep down, he's got a heart, too. He just wants to be a good role model for his underlings, not achieving it most of the time, though." He explained in a low voice. After a pause, he added, "See, this is my favorite part of the song." He closed his eyes, focusing on the guitar solo bridge. She then mimicked him, trying to dip into the same experience.

It was a soothing and beautiful song, indeed. She pictured him singing it at the top of his lungs in a locker room, which made her snort slightly. The red blood cell felt grateful for being able to go deeper into his persona. The fact that he was being so voluntarily open was great luck too, as he rarely shared his feelings or daily happenings, their conversations mostly focusing on her.

She peeked through one eye, seeing he was still inside his music bubble, and didn't say anything. Instead, she opted for observing the neutrophil, looking the most relaxed and comfortable she had ever seen him.

When the singer's voice returned, his eye slowly opened again and noticed he was being observed. He sat bolt upright on the bench. "Sorry, I got carried away." His companion shook her head.

"Never opened myself this way," she mumbled, playing with the tip of her glove. The erythrocyte then decided it was the right time to pick up their interrupted conversation.

"Sorry?"

"The song. It said: 'Never opened myself this way'," she locked eyes with him. "When we met the other day, I said you had a good heart," he averted his gaze when she mentioned it. "And you answered that it was hard to believe. It made me sad, to be honest. You're always so hard on yourself; it's not fair, White Blood Cell." Her eyebrows knitted, worry lingering on her features. The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, entwining his fingers.

"Oh, about that. It's alright now. Thank you for your concern." His eye fixed on his gloves, dodging her gaze. Bringing up personal emotion issues was still a great handicap for the immune cell. He knew he was to work on it, in spite of his usual avoiding demeanor.

"I insist, White Blood Cell. You sometimes don't realize your words. Remember what you said before? 'I don't bite'," she quoted him, faking a deep voice. A corner of his mouth turned up at her imitation, but then his lips returned to their usual straight line.

"You didn't even answer me then." He reproached, a blank stare on his face.

"That's not the point here. I also want you to open up to me, White Blood Cell. We're friends, I want you to trust me more on this," the young woman confessed, a tone of disappointment in her voice. These words hit the neutrophil right between the eyes. It was just a matter of time before the erythrocyte complained about his frigidity, he thought. "I'm always pestering you with my stuff. Now it's my turn to listen." He had wanted to refute that statement, but no words left his throat.

Some seconds passed before he opened his mouth. "I once was called a 'kind-hearted killer'. By a cancer cell." She softly gasped, her eyebrows coming closer. The erythrocyte immediately regretted pushing him to that point, blaming her impulsive nature. She then placed a reassuring hand on his forearm, making him lift his face. Words and emotions churned inside his head.

"I'm sorry, White Blood Cell, I'm a total jerk. I didn't mean to dig up dirt. I couldn't have imagined it was such a... tricky business. You don't have to talk about that if you aren't comfortable with it," she quickly apologized, her eyes glossy. His jaw clenched.

"I'm comfortable around you," he said in a low voice, surprising his friend. It wasn't the answer she was expecting from him.

"A-alright then. I'll be listening." His gaze fell to his combat boots once more. A pause.

"These words, they made me think. What is the actual impression I, or neutrophils, give off? For non-immune cells, we resemble some sort of brutal and merciless slayers, wondering when we will flip our lid and kill one of them instead of an intruder." His voice was deadpan as ever, but his forehead had started to furrow, thankfully she couldn't notice it from her perspective. The redhead restrained herself from protesting, as she was aware most of her colleagues weighed in differently than her about immune cells. Still, frustration stung in her chest.

His silence stretched a bit more than expected, earning a reassuring squeeze from her on his forearm. Soft music played on the background, enhancing his twisted emotions. "I've always been aware of these rumors. Thus, these words impacted me notably. Being considered a kind-hearted cell was something new for me, being even weightier coming from an individual I had to get disposed of. At first, I didn't understand him, so I waved it aside. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I could be seen as gentle, when all I do is public displays of gore gutting," his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his eye downcast.

"But later, I realized I've always been the odd one out - in my batch of neutrophils, at least. Sorrow eats away at me whenever I have to kill infected or abnormal cells. I'm not saying my colleagues don't feel sorry for them, but they just shrug it off after a while. But when it comes to me, it..." That time, it was his voice the one revealing his mixed feelings rather than his face, being unreadable. He halted to compose himself once more, the slight crack on his voice breaking her heart. "The guilt tears me apart, even though I know it's work to be done. I- I don't know how to express it, Red Blood Cell. Sorry if I'm being a nuisance." Her concerned expression morphed into a disappointed one as her hand moved up, leaving his forearm to grab his hand with an iron grip. He gawked at their entwined hands, sensing the size difference between them.

"Listen White Blood Cell, your job is greatly demanding and carries a huge responsibility. It's only natural for you to feel this way. I can't imagine the pain you have to bear, on top of having to conceal it for whatever stupid reason." The grip on his hand grew tighter, emphasizing her determined look and words. U-1146 couldn't help but gape at her, slightly taken aback by her sudden supportive outburst. "There's nothing wrong with being sensitive, you know. Maybe it's not a common trait among immune cells, but you have been gifted with it and you have to make the most of it. It makes you unique, you understand?" The man scrunched up his face, looking drained.

Perhaps bottling up his feelings had started to take its toll after all. Nevertheless, he was grateful he could rely on her on that situation, as he was still quite a newbie to opening up his heart. U-1146 never imagined he actually needed to do so – he felt like holding a knife for the very first time, unsure about the damage he could inflict.

"I don't think it's a good thing, certainly not for a cell like me. It... It impacts negatively on my job performance. I'm bound to be fierce, unsparing, not gentle and compassionate. Sometimes I'm even ashamed of it, of not being able to walk away unfazed as the rest of my peers do," he hissed through gritted teeth, frustration then visible on his chiseled features. "It makes me feel vulnerable, in a bad way. Sometimes I wonder if I... if I was really meant to be a neutrophil. If I'm this thin-skinned at the end of the day, maybe I should've pursued another path." His spare hand ran through his white, unruly hair. He then firmly clasped a forelock out of frustration. Hazel eyes sought for his, making him hold her gaze. Her lips were tightly pressed together before speaking again.

"You can't decide that. You were born to be a neutrophil, a brilliant and committed one. That's what I see in you," her voice was warm but confident, leaving no doubts for lies or uncertainty in her words. Her free hand cupped the already joined pair, claiming his attention once more and preventing him from looking away. "You may think being a little more sentient can be an obstacle in your job, but the fact is you should all be," his eye widened noticeably. "You can't just go off killing mercilessly on a whim. I know you don't but having a heart and being sane is what prevents you from doing so. What if you also killed good bacteria? It'd be the end of this world. It was your goodness and compassion what saved those lactic acid bacteria, despite not knowing what they were; if they had been found by any of your friends, they'd have been wiped out right away. Being sensitive means you can be sympathetic, feel others' pain, and understand them better. You are an immune cell; your duty is to protect this world. If it isn't you who understands the fear of defenseless cells, who will? If you can't walk in other's people shoes as you protect them, what's the point of it? Feeling more than what you think you are supposed to does give you power and doesn't take it away. This world needs more understanding and caring immune cells, who can make us feel secure, and not in more danger. This world needs more cells like you, White Blood Cell."

Their gazes locked for what seemed like ages, the man still processing her speech, his body growing warmer. He just couldn't put a finger on what was going on inside his chest, a stirring feeling blooming in him. On the other hand, the redhead just couldn't give credit to the sermon which had come from her mouth. She was satisfied, feeling she had pulled the right strings.

The neutrophil wished the ground could swallow him up when he felt tears welling up in his eyes, and fought them back. She had left him speechless, not coming up with a single complain, because he wanted to believe her to some extent. U-1146 really wished his softhearted nature could do as much good as he intended to.

His perplexed gaze then landed on their hands, still clamped together. The warmth irradiating from them reminded him of how much he enjoyed her company. However, the erythrocyte interpreted his look as a warning sign, meaning she was being too clingy – once more. The redhead rapidly removed her hands from his, making the immune cell's chest feel suddenly hollow. Was his aloofness shooing her away again?

"I- I don't know what to say, I'm f-flabbergasted. I've never been praised this way, I- you're too kind to me," he babbled, a bit tongue-tied. He rubbed both his hands together, unconsciously preventing them from losing her warmth. She shrugged.

"I only said what I felt. I'm even surprised at myself for being able to pull it off," she chuckled nervously. "You should be praised more often, I don't think it's gonna get to your head anytime soon, plus it can help you realize your self-worth. I really look up to you, White Blood Cell." She sincerely smiled, turning her chest towards him. The young woman then noticed his cheeks flushing.

"Stop please, I'm going into apoptosis." The man joked in an attempt of covering his unsteadiness. She laughed.

"Thank you for speaking your mind with me. You know, a problem shared is a problem halved. Seems like you've been bottling things up for too long. Also, don't ever think you're being a nuisance just for opening your mouth for once, when my middle name is indeed nuisance." She grimaced at her own pun, half expecting some sort of amused reaction from him. It didn't show up.

"No. Thank you, Red Blood Cell. That really was a weight off my mind, huh. I never imagined talking could be so, uh- relieving." The neutrophil admitted, fiddling with his hands.

"That's what having a heart-to-heart is supposed to do! It's nice not being the center of the universe for once in our chats, though."

The man cleared his throat after a pause. "I meant this meet-up to be kind of light-hearted, however it's ended up getting gloomy. My bad." He genuinely apologized, guilt lingering on his voice.

"Now, now, you. It was me who brought up this whole thing, so stop that sulking." She allowed herself to rest a hand on his slouching shoulder. "Besides, I'm having a great time! Look at this place, with music and all!" the redhead chirped as she motioned towards the sound equipment, trying to cheer him up. The neutrophil noticed her efforts, so he faked a small smile. It was his chance to pull an ace out of his sleeve.

"Yeah, looks like it's someone's turn to come clean now. Think you could get away with it?" he declared in an amused tone; arms crossed over his chest. She turned her head towards him.

"What do you mean?" She asked. His face immediately straightened.

"What was doing your head in before? Fess up." He looked at her intently, her gaze falling to her knees.

"It's silly stuff, no big deal. Just me being on the fritz." The redhead smiled apologetically, his stare unfazed. Silence.

"Go on." The neutrophil curtly instructed, almost in a robotic manner. He had a bizarre way of showing interest.

"Damn, this is so embarrassing." She bit her lower lip. "It's just... You know how I can be a bit too expressive, sometimes. I'm used to go around giving hugs and being cuddly and whatnot, I'm all about showing affection." He nodded, encouraging her to continue. Her eyes avoided his person completely. "But when I'm near you, it's different, I think."

"What do you mean different?" The neutrophil inquired in a slight less monotonous voice.

"Ugh, I feel so awkward," she complained, her words muffled by her hands as they were hiding her face. The neutrophil had started to worry, her skin turning crimson red. She removed her hands from her eyes and squished her cheeks, eyebrows knitted. "I think whenever we're together and I relax and go full care bears mode, I start bugging you. I'm so sorry if that's the case, I don't mean to nag." The erythrocyte slurred, her hands still pressing against her flushed face. The man's head slipped a cog. He just couldn't understand what could have mislead her into thinking that had upset him, but then he realized his shyness could have been interpreted in that way, after all.

"N-no, that's far from the truth, Red Blood Cell," he managed to utter.

She quickly turned her face towards him, her bright red locks flying around. "What?" His lips were pressed together.

"Maybe... I've led you to believe I don't like you being near. I mean, uh, it's nice," he readjusted his cap, hiding his obsidian eye. She blinked in astonishment.

"Then... You weren't annoyed?"

"Nope."

"I'm talking about that whole push-up madness," she clarified, trying to avoid any misunderstanding. "Not even then?"

The neutrophil's pale cheeks started getting warmer as he recalled that day's events. "Nope," he repeated. Her face began to light up, alas it didn't last long.

"But... But what about before? I grabbed your hand on the spur of the moment, and- and you were mad!" The redhead jabbered; her honey-colored eyes open wide. His jaw went slightly slack.

"I wasn't mad?" he affirmed as a question. "I- I was dazed."

"What!?"

"What?" he parroted in a lower voice, awe in his features. She blinked several times.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "So you're telling me you've been acting like a grouch whenever I came close to you... Just because you were surprised?"

"Yes? I mean, sorry." He sighed, wanting to punch himself in the face for not being able to come up with a proper answer. His hands clutched the extra fabric on his combats. "If... If I'm being honest, I felt rather let down when you let go of my hand before," he sheepishly admitted, nibbling on his lower lip. The erythrocyte gasped audibly at his words and reached for his lonely hand once more. He jumped at the sudden touch.

"There," she squeezed his hand, gently that time. "We're a couple of chumps." She chuckled with a tone of confusion. The neutrophil nodded slowly.

"So that was eating away at you?" he absently questioned, observing their hands. The redhead seemed to have already forgotten about them, though.

"Yeah. I just had the itch to hug you back there, I was so happy you wanted to show me something precious to you. But then I remembered these things and you know; I had the blues." His mouth twitched at the sudden sorrow clouding her features. What should he do?

"I'm so sorry about that." The neutrophil nervously bounced his leg. "Would you like to, uh, resume it?" The man asked, opening his arms towards her ever so slightly. Her face immediately lit up, her eyes sparkling with astonishment.

"What, really?! Can I just like, hug you? You don't have to force yourself," the red blood cell hooted, waving her hands frantically about. He quirked a brief smile.

"I already told you, I'm not forcing myself because I actually like it, even if I don't seem to." U-1146 explained with a somewhat confident look in his eye, giving her the green light as he fully extended his arms. She let out an excited yip as she pounced on his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso. Although he had been the one to suggest it, he was taken aback, nonetheless.

He took his time to surround her little frame with his arms, in clumsy and jerky movements - as if trying not to crush her. Once he found a comfortable position, he softly pressed her against his chest, and even allowed himself to rest his chin on top of her head. They stayed like that for a while, her sporadic nuzzling bringing back that stirring warm feeling in his chest. The neutrophil didn't mean to break the hug, so he avoided shifting or moving, even if it caused discomfort. The fair-skinned man just gave in to the embrace and closed his eye.

His companion budged inside his arms after an uncertain period, lifting her chin towards his face. She grinned, amused. "Hah, look who's being the cuddlebug now," she teased, earning a low grunt as a response, his throat vibrating against her head. "Who's a good boy?"

His pulse started to gallop at her sudden focus on him. He awkwardly pulled away, holding her by the shoulders. "Sorry." His eyelid drooped.

"Hey, enough apologies for today. I was wondering how you could not like cuddles when you're so..." He cocked an eyebrow. "So..." His receptor went off abruptly, startling them both with a strident ding. His pupils contracted at the alarm, standing bolt upright.

"WHAT NOW!?" he yelled, hitting the ceiling. He turned around. "Red Blood Cell, go hide in these bushes. Run." He commanded while holding her agitated gaze. She obediently leapt over the bench and ran towards the nearest hideout. He approached and warned the rest of the red blood cells in the square, panic breaking out despite the steadiness in his voice. The neutrophil clicked his tongue as he saw the cells running and screaming, but nothing could be done.

The pale-skinned man treaded cautiously, sharp knife drawn out, seeking for any evidence of an intruder's presence. His obsidian eye was out on stalks when he heard a slight creak behind the screen. The neutrophil crouched slightly and brought his tooled-up arm forward. He tuned his ear, only hearing the muffled whining and whispers from the sheltered erythrocytes.

His eye flashed at an approaching bundle of torn-off wires, ducking instinctually as it flew over his head. A green slimy tentacle came into sight from behind the stereos, a giant orb following right after. Pseudomonas aeruginosa.

"Whoops, I missed," the greenish creature cackled, another bunch of wires wrapped in a tentacle, ready to be cast.

"Nobody wreaks havoc on my body and makes it out alive. Guess we'll have to play bloodsports." U-1146 snarled, throwing it a death glare. The immune cell charged towards it with great strides. His lips curled into a sadistic smirk as he dodged the wire raid, knife ready to slice. The bacterium winced and sneaked out behind the screen, where everything was already a mess. Sparks flied from the ripped wiring.

The condition of the audio equipment was the straw that broke the camel's back. Damn, not on his favorite place. The enraged male chased after the intruder, grabbed one of its legs and pulled, his knife piercing its core. "What a naughty scum." The bacterium yelped as its cytoplasm splattered all over the neutrophil's pristine uniform.

Without prior notice, a razor-ended limb twisted around his ankle and sent him flying, his fall causing the tearing of the screen. He brought a hand to his spinning head, which had collided with the ground. Gritting his teeth, he managed to stand up after staggering for a moment. U-1146 glimpsed several skeletal figures through the ruined equipment, leering at him.

"Looks like you took a nasty fall. Serves you right," one of the pneumococci goaded, their appendages undulating.

"So there's more of you scumbags. How convenient, I'm getting hungry." Another of the bacteria propelled itself over him, ignoring his words as it used their long limbs as springs.

"Lunchtime it is!" it yelled at the now spotted erythrocytes, beginning to flee their hideouts as the bacteria approached. The neutrophil grunted, running after the pneumococcus. Cytoplasm gushed from the wound on his forehead; he immediately wiped it away with his hand before it reached his eye.

As he advanced with haste, the bacterium fished out an erythrocyte with his sharp-ended limb. Terror overtook his face, dropping his basketful of nutrients. Nearby red blood cells bolted in random directions, getting in U-1146's way. The immune cell dodged them gracefully, bringing out some throwing daggers from his lumbar pocket and cast them, aiming for the bacterium's back. A shriek of pain came from its mouth as the daggers stabbed it. Its counterpart rejoined the battle, chasing after hysteric erythrocytes. The neutrophil gave a glance at the hectic square, unable to make out her signature scarlet hair. U-1146 really hoped she was out of danger.

The first injured bacterium dropped the erythrocyte, his unconscious body hitting the ground with a flop. The neutrophil was round-eyed with shock. "What have you done to him you filth!?" he inquired, a tone of panic in his voice. The bleeding creature turned around to face the phagocyte, a nasty look in its sharp eyes. "Who cares? You're being such a pain!" Its razor-limbs briskly rushed towards him, managing to block most of its attacks with both knives in hand. Alas, some of its strikes grazed his body, tearing through his uniform. The man groaned in pain, still parrying the attacks.

Behind him, some other erythrocytes started to collapse on the ground due to the other pneumococcus' presence. Something clicked in his mind, realizing what the problem was. He cursed under his breath, being outnumbered. He reached for his transceiver.

As if a wish were granted, a doppelgänger of himself joined the battle, gashing the second bacterium's limbs. U-2626. "Hey man, looks like you need some backup here! Time to die, bastards!" He yelled, his knife slicing through the air. U-1146 answered with an acknowledging nod and smile.

The bacterium in front of him was already worn out by then, the man deciding to give the final strike. He swiftly sheathed his knives, then lunged forward and grabbed it by the neck. "You're going down." The neutrophil sank his teeth into the bacterium's armored frame, mutilating its head as he yanked. The pneumococcus gurgled, finally perishing.

The white-haired man dropped to his knees, slouching over the dead body. Saliva and cytoplasm dripped from U-1146's working mouth, devouring the bacterium's flesh. His eye blazed with bloodlust.

"I see you're banging away at it, but we should check this out." His colleague sighed, having finished off his own bacterium. The guzzling neutrophil snapped awake, dropping the piece of flesh on the floor as he noticed the lying bodies.

He ran towards one of them and held it. He placed two fingers on the erythrocyte's neck; his vital signs seemed to be okay. "They look as if they were asleep," his coworker commented, mimicking his action. His lips set in a hard line.

"Close enough. Apparently, their hemoglobin turned into methemoglobin." U-1146 explained, studying the rest of the bodies. U-2626 cocked an eyebrow under his long bangs.

"What does that even mean?"

"Streptococcus pneumoniae emit the hydrogen peroxide they produce, as they can't break it down. They're alpha-hemolytic bacteria, thankfully." He clenched his fists.

"Uh-huh. So?" the other neutrophil further asked.

"So," U-1146 continued. "This hydrogen peroxide, in large amounts, can oxidize the iron in red blood cells' hemoglobin. Iron gives them the ability to carry oxygen, but only if it's reduced. In short, pneumococci cause them to malfunction for a while. They will return to normality in brief." The neutrophil looked around, searching through the bodies.

"Whoa - and I thought you were a bonehead!" he chuckled. "It's good it's nothing too serious. Anyway, what are you looking for?" U-1146 faltered for a moment.

"Have you seen a redheaded erythrocyte?" he asked, his lower lip slightly trembling. His friend's jaw dropped.

"You mean that friend of yours? She was here during all this? For fuck's sake. I'll help you look for her." Concern lingered on his voice.

"Thank you. She mustn't have gone far." They began their search while turning the bodies face-up, so they could find themselves in a more comfortable position when they woke up.

After a while, U-2626 found the erythrocyte at issue, sleeping peacefully behind a bush, as she was instructed to. He called his friend over. "Here's your sleeping beauty. She looks a bit pale, but fine otherwise."

U-1146 crouched down next to her and studied her face. Her slumber was placid, her features relaxed. Tangled hair framed her face but seemed overall unscathed. The neutrophil thanked him, then 2626 crossed his arms behind his head and left nonchalantly. He knew they needed their space.

The immune cell held her body with care and cradled her. He gently removed leaves and sticks from her hair and clothing, placed his arms under her knees and back and lifted her.

Bright light dazzled her when she came back to her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for them to adapt. The ginger slowly batted her lashes several times. All around her was nothing but a blur, AE3803 hardly could make anything out. Her legs felt heavy, her chest stiff. Her head spun and throbbed. What the hell had happened?

When her sight focus returned, she recognized the white and red figure sitting next to her. It was White Blood Cell. It took him a while to realize her awakening, being lost in thought. She had been gawking at him the whole time, unable to utter a word. When his dark eye met hers, relief transformed his face. "R-Red Blood Cell! How are you feeling?"

She grunted, trying to sit up. The neutrophil gently pushed her back down to a lying position, her head pillowing on his folded but stained uniform shirt. "Don't strain yourself. You're safe now." He explained in a reassuring tone. She parted her lips, glancing at him.

"Ugh," the redhead groaned once more, woozy. "What happened?" she babbled. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Are you okay, White Blood Cell?" She asked in a worried voice. He snorted.

"Hey, that's my line." He gave her a half-smile. It was true his condition was not much better than hers; wounds covered his body, cytoplasm coming out of them and staining his pale skin, undershirt, and trousers.

"But you're injured!" she complained, concern clouding her features. She brought a trembling hand to her head. "Wait, I've got some bandages in my bag," she clumsily fumbled for her belt bag, which had been taken off at some point.

"It can wait." He retrieved the bag and kept it out of her reach, making her pout. "How do you feel?"

"Good, I think. I can't move much, though." Her eyebrows knitted. "What happened?" she repeated.

"What's the last thing you recall?"

She pondered for a while, staring at the sky. "You were fighting against a greenish thing; I've seen that one before. What was it called? Psud, Psi..."

"Pseudomonas." He aided.

"Ah, right. So that guy died but then two pneumococci appeared, you looked so mad. I was worried, seeing you all alone there," he grimaced. "I don't mean you couldn't do it alone but, they looked terrifying. They came close and I tried to calm the other erythrocytes, but they started panicking. I don't remember much after that." He nodded.

"Your hemoglobin has turned into methemoglobin, that-"

"My what has turned into WHAT!?" she fussed. "Well, I know what my hemoglobin is, I'm not that dumb..." She added grinning.

"... That means your hemoglobin was oxidized by a compound pneumococci release. Thankfully, not much was produced as they were only two. Still, it made all the nearby erythrocytes faint; it affects to your oxygen binding. I'm afraid you won't be able to deliver it for quite a while." The red blood cell frowned at his explanation, looking deceived. "I'm sorry. I know how much you love your job. You'll be good as new soon enough." He added, trying to comfort her.

"Heh, they didn't teach us that at the bone marrow. How did you know all that?"

"Perks of the job," he soberly answered. She jokingly rolled her eyes.

Several more neutrophils had reached the scene to help clearing everything up, one of them being U-4989. Along with U-2626, both were busy picking up debris and bacteria corpses; as well as explaining the situation to disoriented red blood cells from time to time. Eventually, the neutrophil with long bangs noticed the awakening of U-1146's friend, despite his hair. U-4989 couldn't understand his blind awareness.

They both approached the duo, U-4989 carrying the Pseudomonas' remains on his shoulder.

"Good to see you're awake, Miss red blood cell." U-2626 smiled. His colleague tipped his hat as a greeting. "G'day, mistress," he said. She weakly waved at them; a smile plastered on her face. U-1146 frowned under his cap.

"She just woke up. Don't overwhelm her." He grumbled, being protective of her. U-2626 raised his hands in defense.

"Easy there, hoss. We just wanted to check on her," he explained, a crooked smile on his face.

"I'm fine, thank you guys. Don't be a grump, you." She nudged the scowling neutrophil, his mouth twisting.

"Yikes, look at all this mess. You sure are a magnet for bacteria and mishaps." The wavy-haired neutrophil commented, chewing on his lower lip. A hand secured the corpse on his shoulder.

"It's not me, but her the one attracting trouble." The sitting neutrophil teased despite his deadpan face.

"Huh!?" she protested. The rest of them laughed.

"Also, about this. Wanna get some grub? Otherwise I'm ditching it." U-4989 asked, patting on the dead bacterium.

"That will do. Pneumococci's flavor just makes me gag." He took the corpse, chomping on it right away. His jaw dripped with bright red cytoplasm once more.

"Bon appétit, bud. And you, get well soon, Miss red blood cell." U-2626 said. She smiled in gratitude.

"I'll join you in a while. There's plenty to do." U-1146 locked eyes with them as he swallowed.

"Nah, you stay here. You're pooped. Plus, she needs you there. Later, you doughnut." The wavy-haired neutrophil waved them goodbye, followed closely by U-2626.

"See ya around!" His colleague signed off, the two of them walking away into the chaos.

Taking advantage that the neutrophil's eye wasn't on her, she attempted to sit up in wobbling movements. He turned around just to find her sitting in a slouching position. The young man scowled, placing a hand on her back. "Hey, take it easy."

"The rest of erythrocytes are already on their feet," she said, looking down.

"Each person at their own pace. Don't rush it." He placed his meal nearby, having both hands free to help her out.

"Okay, dad." She joked, chuckling. He pouted. "Just eat up, will you? I think the last words I heard before fainting were 'I'm getting hungry'." She pointed at the bitten corpse. He wiped off the cytoplasm from his chin.

"Wait here, I'm getting you some food. You look so pale." The immune cell jumped on his feet before she could complain and walked away.

"I'm not going anywhere!" she chanted. Her eyes studied his wounded body. Always putting others before himself.

After some time, he returned to his sitting place next to her, snapping her awake. He brought different kinds of packed goodies between his arms, then showed them to her, as if it was a snack stand.

"Alright. What would the lady like? Mini banana muffins, baked crunchy apple fries, sweet and salty popcorn, fried mozzarella sandwiches..." he enumerated, rolling his eye. She belly laughed.

"Oh, it is an honor and a privilege for me to attend this distinguished supper," she joked in a plummy voice, a hand on her chest. He snorted, giving her a crooked smile. "Don't hurt yourself, White Blood Cell. I know you're trying," she then teased.

"Hey, I can be thoughtful for once, too. Just pick one. Actually, you can keep all of them." He proffered the snack deck. She pondered for a while, studying them.

"I'll just go for the sandwich thing. Where did you get all this fancy stuff? All the snacks I find around town are awfully bland," she wanted to know, grabbing the sandwich from his hands, and taking it out from the cardboard box.

"Perks of the job," he repeated in an amused tone, with a deadpan face. She protested as she nibbled on the food. He did likewise, chopping off a bacterium's limb with his knife and bringing it to his mouth. She started to feel much better after some bites. They ate in silence for a short time, the affected erythrocytes milling around in the sunshine, as if expecting to magically regain their powers.

"We should take a look at these wounds," she recommended, swallowing the last bite. He just kept munching in silence. The red blood cell reached for her bag, nobody stopping her that time. Inside, she found some bandage wraps, as well as some cotton and even a tiny alcohol bottle. 'Just in case' echoed inside her head. She took all the supplies out, carefully avoiding them from coming into contact with dirt.

She poured some alcohol over a cotton ball and took off his hat. She began with the wound on his forehead, gently dabbing around it. "That's a bad gash," she commented. He had already finished his meal, wiping his face clean with a tissue she had offered him.

"That's from the first fall. Through the screen." He sadly explained, remembering the ruined device. The erythrocyte noticed him pouting. She then wrapped a bandage around his head, covering the injury.

"Cheer up, White Blood Cell! It'll be fixed up soon." He nodded, understandingly. She then moved on to the next one, on his left shoulder. Courtesy of pneumococci. He rolled up his stained, short sleeve to expose the wound, still bleeding.

"We could just go to the nearest wash station. We have plenty of wound care supplies. Neutrophils are always getting banged out." She stayed focused on her task.

"You shouldn't be moving around too much. Stay still, will you?" She gently placed a dressing over the slash, being previously cleaned.

"Yes, ma'am." He obediently answered, pulling blades of grass with his spare hand.

"So, tell me. Where did these germs come from? There wasn't an abrasion, wasn't it?" He glanced up with his big, obsidian eye.

"Certainly, there was no scratch. Considering how close we are to the outer world, it's no surprise to find these wimps lurking around. It always ends up in battle every single time I come; this one was the worst of all. They did plenty of damage. We, more precisely." He winced at the burning feeling of the antiseptic. "Ouch."

"Sorry." She continued dabbing with a new cotton ball, bloodstained pads starting to pile up beside him. "You really kicked ass out there. Go easy on yourself," the red blood cell reminded him.

"All these erythrocytes are now purposeless thanks to my incompetence. If I had acted sooner-" she lifted his chin with a hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"We're not starting this, White Blood Cell. You can grieve, you can fuss about, but you cannot lie right to my face. What you said wasn't true," she applied extra force on a wound, making him flinch. She brought her hands together as an apology, brows still snapped together. "You acted just on time." He remained silent.

"You really got a hoard of bandages and alcohol, huh?" he said nonchalantly, changing the subject. The used cotton pile grew at a disturbing rate.

"Yup. Just to be on the safe side. You never know when you may need it." She applied the umpteenth bandage, that time on his cheek. Another question raised in her mind. "I kinda saw the beginning of your fight with the pneumococci, but I didn't see anything capsule-like?" He hummed.

"Actually, they had one. Every pneumococcus owns one, but they can differ. This one was fortunately susceptible to the complement system. That's what alerts us to the presence of intruders and enables us to phagocytize them. It works wonders." He explained, tightening his shoelaces. The redhead nodded in comprehension. "That's called opsonization."

"Don't go too far, smarty pants." She playfully answered, making a mental note of the strange word. She studied the remaining sources of cytoplasm, being all of them either on his abdomen, back or thighs. The young woman pondered for a while.

"Why the frowning face?" She pointed to his chest.

"Your injuries. The ones remaining are under your t-shirt or pants, but that's none of my business." She bashfully explained with a grin, sone color raising to her cheeks. He tilted his head, grasping the meaning of it shortly after. He lowered his eye.

"You did a fantastic job. Besides, I'm wearing my receptor vest under the t-shirt, it's not wise to take it off. I'll take it from here. Thank you, Red Blood Cell." She shook her head. He then picked up his uniform shirt, carefully folded on the grass. Her eyes landed on the piece of clothing, realizing its purpose.

"Oh, thank you." The neutrophil winced as he sat back again. His forehead furrowed in pain as he put his arms through the sleeves. "Can I help you with that?"

"It's the least I could do. And no, I'm good. Anyway, I don't even know why I'm dressing up; I should go and get a new brand uniform." Her face lit up.

"Can I go with you? After all, I'm unemployed 'til further notice!" she enthusiastically begged. He was taken aback by her positiveness.

"Uh, sure. As you wish." U-1146 stood up, pain intensity increasing as the adrenaline from battle died down. "Can you walk?" He extended a helping hand, crouching slightly. The ginger nodded, slowly getting up with his help. She took a couple of wobbly steps, grabbing on to his arm, careful not to touch his injuries. After a while, she mustered the strength to stand on her own, the neutrophil's arm not leaving her back, nevertheless.

"You got everything?" He looked around, making sure they didn't forget anything. They even had spent some time looking for her forgotten beret, too. All his colleagues had already left, along with the wreckage.

"Yup!" She stuck all the delicious goodies into her bag and zipped it up. "Are you missing something?"

"Don't think so." He declared, readjusting his cap while searching for the path to follow. The shorter cell pursed her lips.

"What about... A commemorative hug?" she suggested with open arms, her eyes sparkling. His lips parted into a timid smile.

"Has a nice ring to it." She clumsily wobbled towards him, wrapping him in a warm hug. U-1146 did likewise, at least more expertly than the first time. He patted on her tangled hair, making her giggle. Ah, that stirring feeling again. "Are... Are we gonna do this all the time?" he wondered. She pulled away in a sudden movement, disappointment overtaking her face.

"How rude! That really hurt me, White Blood Cell." She pouted. The neutrophil stuttered, trying to make it up.

"I wasn't complaining, that's not it... I like it, quite a lot. What I meant- can we do this more often?" He almost muttered, feeling his cheeks growing warmer. AE3803's usual smile came back once more, hugging him close again.

"Of course, you dummy. Just kidding," she mumbled against his once again ruined shirt. She heard him sigh in relief.

"Don't scare me that way," he protested, the erythrocyte pulling away from his chest.

"C'mon, snugglebug. We've got to get you new clothes." She chirped, tugging at his sleeve. He followed right after her, a tiny smile on his bandaged face.

And thus, they rejoined the main bloodstream.