Orihime sat at the table, her head resting on its smooth cool surface. She had hoped it would help with the faint throbbing that threatened to drive her crazy. It didn't. She squeezed her eyes shut, her cheeks warmer than before.

She couldn't believe that she and Szayel…they had…

Even now the whole situation felt surreal. The feeling of Szayel's lips on hers. His tongue making slow, soft circles into her neck. His fingers pressing into her hips. A shudder ran down Orihime's spine. Thinking about was not helping.

She sat up, sighing.

What had she gotten herself into? Their kiss wasn't merely a kiss. It was a kiss. But what did that mean? Was it possible that she was starting to have feelings for—

Orihime stopped herself before she could finish that thought. No. Szayel was their enemy. And yet, the more she tried to deny it, the clearer it was that…perhaps…just maybe...

She crossed the room and lay down on the couch. The blank ceiling above her seemed more interesting than it had in months. And what about Szayel? He had run out so suddenly afterwards, and she hadn't seen him since.

"And that was a couple of days ago," Orihime said to herself, her arm resting on her forehead. "Of course, Ulquiorra hasn't gone on any missions. I guess Szayel wouldn't have a reason to see me."

A loud creaking startled her from her thoughts. Orihime sat up and turned her head to the door. She squinted at the bright light pouring into the room. It couldn't be Ulquiorra. He always announced when he was entering.

"Wh-Who is it?" she asked, getting up from the couch. "Sza—?"

"O-ri-hi-me-chan," said a deceptively sweet voice. "Do you want to play?"

Orihime's eyes widened as two female Arrancar entered the room. They closed the door behind them with a resounding slam.

"Who are you?"

"Who are we?" asked the one with black hair in pigtails and maroon eyes. "We're no one important—obviously. Right, Menoli?"

The other Arrancar, with short dirty blonde hair, nodded. "That's right, Loli."

"Like I said, we want to play with you, Hime-chan," Loli said, slowly circling around her, as if Orihime was her prey.

A bead of sweat rolled down Orihime's face. She knew she would regret it, but she had to ask, "What kind of game?"

Loli turned to Menoli, smirking widely, before backhanding Orihime, sending her into the table. Before Orihime had time to pick herself up, Loli rushed over to her and threw her against the far wall of her room, right beneath the solitary window.

Orihime groaned as she slumped over. She gingerly touched her right cheek. It stung, and was probably bruised, but there wasn't any blood. Looking up she noticed Loli heading towards her.

"I don't understand why Aizen-sama's so interested in you!" yelled Loli. She held Orihime up by the hair. "You're just a stupid human. What could you possibly have to offer?"

Orihime grasped at Loli's hands, hoping to pry them away, but it was no use. Her eyes watered in pain, in frustration, but she refused to let them fall. Somehow, Orihime knew it would give Loli more pleasure to see her cry.

"And it's not just him either," Loli said, tossing Orihime to the other side of the room, as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. "You've even managed to charm the emotionless Cuatro Espada, of all people! And let's not forget the infamous Octava Espada."

Orihime's head snapped in Loli's direction. "What?"

"Don't play innocent! You can't tell me you don't know." Loli picked Orihime up by her uniform and pushed her against the wall. Then, leaning close to her ear, she whispered, "Everyone knows you're his little whore."

Orihime's eyes narrowed. She would never consider herself a violent person, not by any stretch of the imagination. But at the moment she couldn't help the shaking of her limbs as rage coursed through her.

"What did you say?"

"Loli, we should leave," said Menoli frantically. "You're being too loud, and if anyone finds out about this—"

Before she could finish the door slammed open. The three women turned, varying expressions of shock, confusion and, in Orihime's case, relief on their faces. Just from the silhouette on the floor she could tell who it was. She had never been more thankful in all her life.

"U-Ulquiorra-sama," Menoli said, her eyes widening as Ulquiorra's gaze shifted to her. The hardness in his eyes caused her to take a couple of steps back.

Ulquiorra turned to Loli, who had released the grip on Orihime's uniform. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Ulquiorra-sama," Loli said, and bowed. She refrained from looking directly at him. "We were just keeping our guest compa—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

Orihime pulled herself up to her feet and glanced between the female Arrancar and Ulquiorra. She had never seen him look so visibly upset or offended, let alone both.

A bead of sweat rolled down Loli's face. After a moment, she said, "No, of course not, but—"

"But what?" Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. "Do not think I don't know what you have been doing here. Let me assure you, Aizen-sama will not forgive you." He raised his hand, his finger pointed directly at Loli, the beginnings of a cero forming on his fingertip. "And neither will I."

But the cero didn't hit its intended target. At the last second Menoli had sonido-ed to the other end of the room and, covering Loli's body with hers, took the brunt of the attack. Once the light of the cero disappeared, Orihime could see Loli was thrown to the right side of her room, her leg twisted in an unnatural position. All that was left of Menoli was her lower half.

"Me-Menoli," said Loli, eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, so you're still alive," Ulquiorra said. His heels clicked as he took slow, measured steps over to her. He looked at her leg. "It seems you didn't escape unscathed. But is that really enough retribution for your actions?"

He pointed his finger at her again, preparing to fire another cero. Loli glanced at the wall behind her and squeezed her eyes shut. There would be nothing to stop him this time.

"Ulquiorra, please!" Orihime ran to him and grabbed his arm. He stopped. "She's been punished more than enough, right?"

Ulquiorra looked at Orihime with an almost curious expression. Sighing, he returned his hand to his pocket. He moved away from Loli. "You have more luck than you deserve, it seems."

Loli huffed, still on the floor. With the way her ankle was broken, she couldn't get up without help—help that Ulquiorra would in no way offer. "Aizen-sama will be hearing about this!"

"Let's hope he does," said Ulquiorra. His eyes widened slightly as Orihime kneeled down next to the Arrancar, her shield already activated. "Inoue, what are you doing?"

"Get away from me!" Loli shouted, and pushed herself flush against the wall.

Orihime said nothing. Her hands were held out in front of her, over the broken leg. It only took a couple of minutes, but the bone was soon mended. Wordlessly she stood and walked to the corpse that was once Menoli. Loli watched, trembling, as bits and pieces of her friend appeared out of nowhere, coming together with the lower half of her body.

Menoli gasped sharply. Her eyes shot open. "What happened?" she asked, staring at the palm of her hand. She turned to Orihime. "What did you do?"

"What the hell are you?" demanded Loli, glaring at Orihime. Her body shook as she struggled to walk to Menoli. She leaned on the other Arrancar as she continued, "It's as if—it's as if you're a monster!"

Orihime's eyes widened as she watched them exit the room. She hadn't expected them to thank her for healing them, but she also hadn't expected a comment like that.

A monster?

"You should heal yourself," Ulquiorra said, standing next to her now, instead of three or four paces away.

Orihime nodded and then winced at the stinging of her cheek. She called forth Ayame and Shun'ou, relaxing in the warmth her shield provided.

"I'll make sure your room is cleaned up immediately."

"Ulquiorra?" Orihime asked, before he could leave. He turned around. "Thank you for helping me."

He regarded her briefly before closing his eyes. "If you were truly thankful, you wouldn't have healed them."

The day after the Loli-Menoli incident Ulquiorra had another mission. Orihime was surprised he hadn't told her earlier. He had, after all, been in her room. She suspected he was still upset with her. He probably thought she was too nice for her own good.

Orihime sighed, playing with a stand of hair. She couldn't blame Ulquiorra. She could see where he was coming from. Silently she wondered if he was right.

The creaking of the door caused her to turn. Light poured into the room. And there, on the floor, there was an all-too-familiar silhouette.

"Hello, Orihime."

Usually when she saw Szayel, Orihime would feel excited, almost bouncy. She was only too happy to leave her room and visit the garden he created for her, talking about everything and nothing. But now there was an uncomfortable awkwardness between them that even she could feel.

"Hi, Szayel." Orihime blushed as she remembered what had happened only days ago. Finally, she forced out, "We should get going, huh?"

Szayel nodded. Orhime made her way to him, though she didn't stand nearly as close as before. The trek to his lab was relatively silent, so much so she felt like she would go insane. Every so often she would look at Szayel, her mouth open as she prepared herself to talk about something. Anything. But each time she did she would lose her nerve, close her mouth, and continue walking.

After what felt like an eternity they reached his laboratory, heading to the very back room. Orihime looked at his profile. She needed to say to something. Maybe ask how he had been. Anything to break the silence.

"Orhime-chan!" said a robotic voice.

Orihime nearly jumped at the sound, grabbing Szayel's sleeve. She stared at it, her face a dark shade of red, then looked up to see Szayel staring at her, the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheeks. She immediately let go and walked over to TREA.

"I'm sorry," said TREA, sounding guilty. "Did I scare you?"

"No, no, that's not it, TREA," Orihime said. "It's been a while since I've seen you. How have you been?"

"More than entertained, thanks to Szayel-sama and that Emo clown."

Orihime blinked. "Emo...clown?"

"Yeah. I think his name is Ulquiorra or something."

"Yes, that's his name," she said, trying not to laugh. "No death threats, I hope?"

"Everyday! But I've gotten used to them, so no need to worry about me." TREA chuckled. "And what about you? Anything interesting happen in your life recent—"

"TREA," Szayel said dangerously. He turned to Orihime. "Come, there's something I would like to show you."

"Wait!" TREA called out, just as Orihime was heading back to Szayel. She stopped and looked back at the white cube. "Before you go, would it be too much to ask for a kiss?"

Szayel shot the machine a deadly look.

Orihime giggled. "It's not too much at all." With closed eyes she placed a small peck on the very top of its cool surface. She smiled and placed her hand on the cube.

"You're too kind!" said TREA. Suddenly its tone became more serious. "I just wanted you to know that. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you, Orihime-chan, for everything you've done for me and Szayel-sama."

She blinked once. "Why would you have to thank me? I haven't really done anything since I've arrived here."

"That's not true. You were you—and that's more than we could ever hope for."

"What do you mean?" Orihime asked, eyebrows furrowed at the cube's comment.

TREA didn't answer.

Orihime stood beside Szayel, his hand on the wall in front of them. A moment later it slid to the left, revealing a faintly lit staircase. He started heading down the flight of stairs, with her following close behind.

"Orihime." Szayel's voice echoed eerily in their confined space. "Do you know why we forget?"

"Not really. Why?"

Szayel didn't answer immediately. He waited until they were at the bottom of the staircase before he looked at Orihime, an odd look on his face. "Have you heard of the phrase 'use it or lose it'?"

"Once or twice, I think," said Orihime, squinting as she tried taking in her surroundings. With the amount of light all she could see was the faint outline of a large object in the very center of the room. "Why?"

Szayel started walking towards the object. Orihime ran after him, watching curiously as they fell in step. "There are billions of neural pathways inside your brain, each one important in its own way. There are paths for how to tie your shoes, for what your favorite color is, and—well, I think you get the picture. The problem is, the brain can only have so many at one time. Because of this, the paths that are not being used anymore are, in scientific terms, pruned."

"Pruned?" Orihime repeated. "You mean like you'd prune a bush?"

"A similar principle, yes. The less useful paths are cleared to make way for new, more useful information. This cycle of destroying and creating continues for the rest of your life."

"Oh! So that's what they mean by use it or lose it! If you don't use those paths, then they're lost and you forget that information."

"Precisely," Szayel said, facing her. The smirk on his face made Orihime's stomach sink. "But what if there was a way to target certain pathways in the brain? For example, if you could prune the pathway dealing with your dislike of a certain type of food, then you would forget you ever disliked it."

"T-That's kind of a scary thought," said Orihime, biting her lip. "But then, it's not like it's possible."

Szayel's smirk grew wider, his hand reaching out in the darkness. With the flick of his finger, a light overhead turned on. Orihime blinked a couple of times, blinded by the sudden change.

"I wouldn't be too certain of that, Orihime."

Orihime gasped audibly as she stared at the contraption before her. In the very center was a chair with leg and arm restraints, a helmet-like device connected to the back. Directly beside it the chair was hooked up to a large machine with flashing red and green lights and hundreds of buttons. And in the very middle of it was a large switch that, at the moment, seemed to be turned off.

What was that thing?

Before she could ask, Szayel grabbed her by the forearms and forced her into the chair. Orihime struggled against his grip, more confused than scared. She shuddered as she heard—and felt—the snapping of restraints rubbing uncomfortably against her skin. Finally he placed the odd helmet on her head and nearly ran to the machine beside her.

"Szayel!" Orihime cried, hoping to get a reaction from him. "What are you doing?" He said nothing, so she tried again. "What are you—?"

"It's better if it never happened," Szayel said curtly. He didn't bother sparing her a glance.

Orihime frowned, and then blushed. "It? You mean—"

"Don't!" Szayel stopped and turned to her. "Don't say it! Soon enough it will be like it never happened. None of it."

Szayel punched a couple of buttons on the control panel. The lights changed from red to green. Then the machine started loudly humming. Orihime shuddered even more. It didn't help, of course, that she knew what he was about to do.

He was going to erase her memories. And probably not just of the kiss. All of it. Every memory she ever made with him. He was going to get rid of it all.

"Why?" Orihime asked, her gaze on her lap. "Why do you want me to forget you? I don't understand." She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Please, make me understand! Why are you doing this?"

Szayel's hand rested on the switch in the very center, ready to bring it down. He hadn't blinked, hadn't moved, hadn't given any indication he heard her. Orihime's heart sank. Sighing, she looked back down at her lap and closed her eyes, waiting for—well, she wasn't sure what to expect, but she suspected it would be very painful.

A moment passed. And then another. Slowly Orihime's eyes opened, and she glanced over at Szayel, even more confused than she had been moments before. His hand still rested on the switch, only now his arm trembled. The once blank look on his face was replaced with frustration, and pure and utter bewilderment.

Szayel muttered something under his breath, too low for Orihime to hear. He removed his hand from the switch, placing it harmlessly at his side.

"Szayel…"

Suddenly, he was standing in front of her. His hands gripped her wrists as he leaned over, an almost wild look to his face. Orihime hated to admit it, but seeing him that way scared her. Every time she had ever seen Szayel he was calm and composed.

"You stupid girl!" screamed Szayel, his face inches from hers.

Orihime flinched at his words but said nothing. She wanted to look away from his piercing gaze, but she didn't. She wanted to show him she was serious about what she had said. The action seemed to make him even more livid.

"Why, you say? Why? Don't you understand?" Szayel demanded. "It's because I'm a monster!" The grip on her wrists loosened as he lowered his head, a curtain of pink hair covering his face.

"I'm a monster," he said, this time more softly.

Orihime stared at the top of Szayel's head. His body shook with rage—at her, at himself, at everything. It hurt to see him this upset, this conflicted. She tried wrapping her arms around him, to bring him closer, to comfort him. She found herself unable to do so, her arms still restrained to the chair.

So Orihime leaned over and rested her head on top of his, her eyes closed. Szayel sighed heavily, his hands moving from her wrists to wrap his arms around her waist.

"It's as if you're a monster!"

Orihime blinked back her tears.

A monster.