3.

-The wet puddles left by their feet on the white floors of the lab reoccurred in Szayel's mind like an annoying itch with each step. He hurried her across the lab and to the main door as quickly as she could move. He leaned her against his own body as he opened the door and led her to a small bare antechamber containing nothing but one other door. The cold air of the chamber chilled even his warm skin ; he rushed them both through the door into the next room. Again, he fumbled for the light switch, and finally found it, illuminating a plush pink and white room full of armoires and dressers and even a vanity. The air was much warmer in this room, but whether it was because of its frequent use or heavy carpeting and drapes could not be determined.

-"This is my wardrobe," he explained, "I'm sure something in here will fit you."

-He removed her arm from his shoulder and propped her up against the wall gesturing for her to stay there and quickly threw open the doors to one of the armoires.

-She looked around in awe at the bright colors and the bright light. The world was new to her eyes, which had just begun to focus. The new shapes of the furniture curved like endless mountains to her. The soft pinks were bright and beautiful, like a vision seen in a dream. Her eyes found Szayel, pushing aside endless rows of white articles of clothing in one of the armoires. She stared happily at his pink hair and closed her eyes, remembering it fondly, enjoying the hopeful rush that the simple color gave her. It was the first color she ever saw other than the industrial white and silver of the lab and the washroom.

-"Rosa," she muttered to herself softly. She wasn't sure how or why she already had a name for the hue, but she did. As she looked around the room, she realized she already had a name for nearly everything she saw, but she couldn't remember how she knew them. Her knowledge was like a faded memory from years past, but the only memories she actually owned were of the wonderful man before her, holding her in his arms, caring for her, and watching her from behind his curtains of Rosa colored hair.

-Szayel whipped his head around, hearing her speak. "What did you say?" he asked, curious that she could speak at all.

-"Rosa," she repeated.

-He was taken aback for a moment. Again, he was impressed by her knowledge; how could she already name colors? It was a simple thought, and not even formed into a sentence, but the idea alone was impressive as she had no past to base her knowledge on.

-"Yes, I have many things that are rosa," he replied as stoically as possible, giddy excitement whirling inside of him. He quickly turned back to the endless array of clothing: everything would be much too large on her. He didn't realize until he had her standing beside him how much smaller she was than him. Unable to find a better fit, he pulled one of his routine outfits from the wardrobe and handed it to her.

-"It's going to be big on you, but I will make you another one soon," he explained. He had never had to worry about clothing his fracciòn because he usually was able to make clothing a part of their body. He had never made one so humanoid, or so much like himself.

-"Do you need help putting it on?" he asked. He wasn't sure of what she was capable of anymore. She didn't have good control of her motor skills which was evident from her clumsiness in the shower, but she had incredible intelligence so detailed it seemed to come from memories that were not her own.

-She looked at the white garment, confused. "Yes," she admitted. She could figure out what she was supposed to do with it: it resembled the clothes Szayel was wearing on his legs, so she could assume she was supposed to put it on. Somehow, she also had recollection of how she was supposed to do this, but her body didn't want to connect to her mind, and she couldn't figure out how she was supposed to go about getting herself inside of the white tube of material.

-"Are you dry?" he asked, taking the towel wrapped around her shoulders, gently rubbing it over her skin. She was still wet: how was it she remembered trivial knowledge, but not simple actions? He couldn't help but admiring his work as he viewed it up-close. She wasn't perfectly human, anyone could see that when she was undressed like this. Szayel, however, was almost in awe at his own creation; she was exactly how he wanted her and was created to his image of beauty.

-Her skin body was pale and strong and absent of almost all hair, except for the cascade of wet dripping locks o her head. Whether she would ever have any or not was still a question to Szayel. He had always loathed his lack of ability to create hair for his fracciòn. He felt the strong muscles that lied just below her skin as the towel glided over her and knew that she would be able to use her body in no time at all. Even her chest felt powerful and smooth. The powerful muscle under her chest gave her shape had an incomplete look because it caused an absence of the fat needed to give her a feminine shape. What was more, Szaeyl omitted the reproductive qualities of her chest- she was not made for that- leaving her chest nothing more than two small, smooth white curves in her otherwise flat figure. Aside from her feminine waist and face, she was altogether very androgynous.

-He finished drying her and wrapped her hair in the towel. "Hold on to me," he instructed her again as he took the trousers of the garment and held them open, "step into these, one leg at a time. Make sure you don't put both legs in one side or you'll just fall over again." She wrapped both arm around his neck, terrified of falling over again. She hated the feeling: it felt as if the world was coming at her face and that her insides were floating somewhere outside her body, quickly followed by a very real and numbing pain. She slid one leg to left and one leg to the right of the seam she saw in the bottom of the pants. Szayel took a thin black strip of material from the vanity beside them and wrapped it around the extra material that fell around her waist and tied it tightly. "put your arms up," he instructed. She obeyed, and he quickly slipped the long tunic top over her. He had expected it to be more difficult, but she was so small it easily fell right onto her.

-The tunic seemed to fall forever in front of her face after he slipped it over her; she closed her eyes against the bright white blur. At last her head escaped through the narrow hole in the top and she opened them again. His eyes stared back, bright and framed by white glasses. They were knowing and slightly intimidating, but beautiful all the same. She stared back into them as if trying to learn something from them. Ambarino, she thought, like gold.

-"I need to alter this for you," he concluded, observing her as she stood in the puddle of white cloth." I doubt any of my shoes would fit you. Let me see what I have. Lean against the vanity."

-She obeyed. The vanity beside her was littered in tiny trinkets she hadn't noticed before. Strips of material, spare lenses, and tiny pink bottles sparkled back at her. Her eyes grew wide as she leaned over them, inspecting them happily. She followed the curve of the vanity and found a face staring back