Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo, meaning it does not belong to me. I am in no way, shape, and/or form claiming to be the owner/creator of these concepts, though I do claim any characters not apart of the original Bleach storyline (such as Aporro[in character, not name]) mine. As such, I would appreciate fellow authors and readers to give credit where credit is due and not steal any of my characters and/or concepts. Thank you, and have a pleasant day.

"Sip, Fornicaras…"

I watched, fixed in morbid fascination as Szayel slowly shoved Fornicaras down his throat, sickened but unable to look away, even when his tongue slipped out of his mouth and curled around the blade.

When he started glowing and making those weird moaning noises, I looked away and gagged.

"Well?" He asked when he was done, smirking when I turned back towards him. "How does it feel to look upon perfection?"

I couldn't help it. I smirked, "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say 'perfection' never gets laid."

Szayel frowned, "I beg your pardon?"

I fell over, laughing, "Szayel, you have no idea how gay your Resurreccion makes you look, do you?!"

He twitched, "And just what does my release form have to do with others view of my sexual orientation?"

"Szayel," I slapped my forehead, "You shove a sword down your throat while saying 'Sip'. Your zanpakuto's name means 'you will fornicate' in Spanish, if you go with the rest of the motif for this place. AND HAVE YOU HEARD WHAT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WHILE YOU'RE TRANSFORMING?! You sound like you're having sex!! Plus… dude…" I stood and held out my arms, grinning, "You're wearing a dress and you have pretty wings comin' out of your back."

Szayel's pallid face had gradually gotten redder and redder as I was talking, and when I finished he slumped forward, letting out something crossed between a sigh and a groan.

Oh, yeah. If he didn't get it before, he sure as hell did now. I made sure of that.

It also probably didn't help that the observation came from his doppelganger… albeit, a much less eloquent one with female endowments, but his doppelganger nonetheless.

"Regardless," Szayel muttered, still slumping, "Should the time actually come when you will need to take my place in battle, it's best you know what I look like when I'm fighting…" He waved me off, "You can go, now."

"Oh, c'mon, Szayel, don't act so sullen…" When he continued to slump, I shuffled towards him, "Szaaaaaaay? C'moooooon…"

"Go away, insect…"

I sighed, then sang, "I know some-thing that will make you ha-ppy!"

He looked up, blinking slowly, "Do you, now?"

"Quite!" Smiling, I waved to the door, signaling for Lumina and Verona to come in, "They tried to catch you on your way in here, but you were too busy going on about Fornicaras to pay attention, so I told them to wait until after the demonstration."

"Did you, now?" Szayel glanced at me, turning his body to face his two Fraccion.

I shrugged, "They're pretty stupid, you know. They listen to me on certain things just because I look like you…"

"Master Szayel Aporro, Master Szayel Aporro!" Lumina and Verona chimed, holding out a roll of paper, "Illforte died!"

Szayel blinked, "He did?!" He took the paper, looking it over and letting it unroll.

Sighing, I stopped the roll when it reached my foot, "Yep. Apparently fighting something your system called a 'Bankai user'. These are the results of your little spy parasites you put in him that one time."

"A Bankai user?!" Szayel grinned, scanning the results quickly and cackling.

"Oh, great." I muttered, rolling my eyes as Lumina and Verona backed away from him in fear, standing on either side of me, "He's going into his jolly crazy mode. Let's just back out slowly…" With that, the two Fraccion and I began to slowly walk backwards, heading for the door.

"Oh, my, Aporro, where ever do you think you're going?" Szayel grinned at me, one of his wings stretching out and wrapping around my shoulders from the left side, dragging me back to him.

"You… uh… just dismissed me…" I muttered, leaning back as much as I could when he leaned in close to my face, his grin widening.

Man, did that makeup/tattoo make him look stunning…

"Oh, but that was before I got these results." Szayel smirked, the purple lipstick-like marking on his upper lip stretching with the skin in a way no real lipstick could, "This changes things…" WHY DID LIPSTICK SUDDENLY LOOK HOT ON A MALE?!

"O-oh, really?" Damn, those new glasses were an improvement, too! Oh, God, I could feel my face heating up… Fuckin' hormones…

"Quite." Szayel wrapped an arm around my shoulders and let the wing slip away, leering down at me, "You see, now that I have these results, I can begin preparing your enhancements to enable you to fight shinigami in my stead."

"Thaaaat's nice." I wiggled, trying to slip away, "Wait, enhancements? I swear, Szayel, if that means testosterone…"

"Testosterone? Oh, dear me, no." Szayel's leer widened, "If I did that, I could ruin you for future experiments."

I blinked, suddenly forgetting my position, "Eh?"

"Think about it…" Szayel quirked a brow, "When we defeat the Seireitei, there will be no further need for you to act as my battle doppelganger. You'll strictly be an experiment. And what are female experimental specimens often used for in laboratories?"

Oh, fuck. I didn't want to know the answer… Please, whatever god was listening, please don't let him answer his own question!!

"Breeding purposes, my dear Aporro. Breeding."

Whatever god was listening hated me.

I laid back on my cot, staring at the ceiling blankly.

Breeding? Honestly?! BREEDING?!

And right after I'd been thinking about how ho— …I wasn't even going to finish that.

Damn it, at this rate I might as well kill myself!

…Actually, that wasn't a half bad idea.

Sitting up, I glanced over at the sword Szayel had given me for practice. It was the same length and weight as Fornicaras, and it had an actual blade.

Something about me 'needing to get used to carrying an actual sword'. Not that he intended for me to actually use Fornicaras in battle; hell no, it wouldn't work. Even I got that. But I still had to carry it. Until I was in an actual combat situation, though, I had this sword.

This sword…

Picking it up, I carried it back with me and flopped down on my bed, staring at the ceiling and holding the sword close to my chest.

I had to think about this carefully… Was it actually worth it to die? Was my situation really so bad?

Let's see… I'd had my name and most of my memories destroyed, I was prisoner in a world of demons, my caretaker was a mad scientist who had complete hold of my life and was using me as his personal body double, going so far as to use his mad science skills to change me physically so that I was a female version of him, and who was also planning on using me for breeding experiments if I didn't die.

I had no clear idea if I was going home, my life was constantly in danger because of my greatest weakness, the blind spot, and chances were by the time all of this was over and my usefulness ran out, I was going to be killed, anyway.

…Yeah, my situation was that bad.

Sighing shakily, I drew the sword, continuing to stare at the ceiling as I pressed it to my throat, right where Szayel had once pressed Fornicaras.

Somewhere beneath the skin was my internal jugular… 'Dead in moments', Szayel had said. 'Painful', yes, but he'd also said my transformation had given me heightened pain tolerance.

Just a few moments of pain and it would all be over…

Taking a deep breath, I pressed down, and when I felt my skin sting as the blade slipped in all too easily, I realized something.

I wasn't ready. I didn't want to die.

The blade really did slip in too easily… I hadn't realized how sharp it was until it was in me!

Panicking, I tore the blade out of my neck and threw it away from myself, sitting up and pressing a hand to the gash just as the door opened, Szayel standing there, staring at me blankly.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to go through it… I just didn't know you'd be stupid enough to try."

"Sz-Szayel!"

Growling, Szayel stormed forward and grabbed my free arm, jerking me to my feet and dragging me out and through the lab quickly.

I didn't bother to struggle when he dragged me to his room, stumbling after him when he stormed into his bathroom and yelping when he pushed me down into the tub.

Flinching, I covered my eyes when the near-blinding overhead lights flashed on, then screamed when rough hands seized my collar and forced my head under the faucet. Cold water gushed down on my face and a hand swiped at the gash on my neck, then the water was turned off.

"Pieced your external jugular… Shit!" Then he was gone and I was alone, laying back and staring at the white ceiling above me.

Everything in this place was so damned white… It made the flecks of red on the tub walls on either side of me stand out all the more.

As I lay back in the tub, arms bunched up against my chest and legs splayed out, I listened to the sound of liquid running down the drain. The water faucet above me was off and wasn't dripping, I could see that, and something hot was running down my neck…

Shuddering, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how cold I was getting, and how my neck hurt in pulsing intervals, in time with the heart I could hear beating in my ears.

This wasn't good…

When a shadow crossed over me, I opened my eyes, whimpering when I saw a silhouette ringed in pink. "Szayel… I don't want to die."

Szayel groaned, "Please don't start with that pathetic begging nonsense. I've poured too much time and energy into working on you; you're not about to die. Now, don't struggle. I don't have time to administer painkillers." With that, he shoved a thick roll of cloth into my mouth and took to my neck with sutures.

I could feel my eyes wanting to pop out of my head and the burning pain that pierced the side of my neck.

Panicking, I spat the cloth out and started to claw at Szayel's arms, flashes of Nnoitra coming back, his great curved blade held over my head and flashing down and oh, God, I didn't want that, had to fight, had to fight back, I didn't want to taste that blade again, didn't want to taste my own blood or the metal, had to get him off, had to push him away, had to fight back and—

"Stop that!"

I blinked, eyes widening when I remembered it wasn't Nnoitra over me, but Szayel, and he wasn't trying to kill me. He was trying to save me.

"Calm. Down." Szayel said slowly from his place on top of me, "You're making yourself lose massive amounts of blood…"

Dimly, I wondered how he had gotten from sitting outside the tub to sitting on my stomach, but I also didn't care much at the moment. I was freezing, and he was warm. I was bleeding to death, and he was trying to sew up my neck.

It hurt, and he didn't care, but I was going to live…

That was all that mattered to both of us right now. We had a common goal.

"Good." Szayel muttered, continuing his process, "Just stay still and don't fight… Shit, this is the last time I operate on you when you're not sedated."

"Sorry…"

"Don't talk." He snapped, "And not only am I taking that sword away, you won't have your own room anymore. I'll have to work out another system."

When he was done, Szayel stepped out of the tub and grabbed my wrist, jerking me up.

I stumbled out of the tub after him, leaning against him when my legs were too weak to support me, only to have a hand grab my throat, injury aside, and slam me into the wall.

"Listen to me carefully," Szayel began in a dangerously calm voice, amber eyes boring into mine as if he could see right through me, "You. Are. Mine. Your life is no longer your own; it belongs to me. You are my experiment, you are my toy. You will do what I say when I say it, and I will not have you question me or there will be severe consequences. It's about time you understood and accepted the fact that you are no longer a sentient being in my eyes; you are a tool by which I will make my ends. That's all that matters. I decide when you die, not you. Do you understand?"

"I-I do…"

He tightened his grip, "What was that? What do you call me?"

"I do… Master…" I rasped, clawing at his hand, the side of my neck burning painfully, "Please… Master Szayel, I understand. Please… let me go." The hand released me and I fell to the ground, clamping both hands over the stitched gash on my neck and heaving slightly at the blood that quickly coated my hands, pasting the gloves down like a second skin.

Szayel's legs were all I could see in front of me for a moment, and then I was staring at the ceiling, Szayel's deadpanned face in one corner of my vision and the feel of his arms on my back.

"Let's take care of that before it scars… You're of no used to me if you're not as near an exact replica as you can get, never mind the femininity issu—"

When his arm shifted against my right shoulder, out of my peripheral vision and where my blind spot ended, my mind flooded with panic and I screamed, flailing.

"What are you—?!" I think Szayel saw the raw panic that was in my eyes, and how it wasn't really directed at him, because when he set me down on a table in his lab, he leaned in close to my face and locked eyes with me, not letting me look away, "I have had enough of this so far unexplained and irrational dislike of having your back, particularly on the right hand side, touched. Explain. Now."

"Blind spot, Master." I rasped, wincing as my arms convulsed and pressed against my chest painfully, "I… I think when Nnoitra attacked me it… did something to my head. I have a blind spot…"

"Brain damage." Szayel hissed, leaning back and looking down at me seriously and scrutinizing me, "You really are very useless, aren't you?"

I stared up at him, my mind going fuzzy and the edges of my vision clouding over, "Szayel… I don't wanna die…"

"We've already been over this, haven't we?" Szayel's voice echoed in my head as my vision faded and my body went numb.

"That's not up to you."