For the first time since becoming Orihime's guard, Szayel was relieved Ulquiorra had no missions. He needed some time away from her, to gather his disjointed thoughts and hopefully make sense of things.

Why couldn't he bring himself to erase her memories of him? Before Szayel had brought her to his domain, he knew that's what he wanted. Even when Orihime was strapped to the chair, his hand on the switch, he had no doubts. Only when she looked at him, desperation and confusion etched into her features, did he find himself hesitating.

Then Orihime closed her eyes, seemingly at peace with what Szayel was going to do. That one act sealed the deal. He couldn't do it. Even though he knew it would be better for her to forget—for both of them to forget—what they shared, Szayel simply couldn't flip the switch, no matter how hard he tried.

What had they shared, anyway? What was their relationship? Guard and prisoner? Friendship? Something more? Or was it some bizarre combination of all three, changing at any given time and situation?

Szayel's head hurt thinking about it. He wandered about his laboratory, fluttering from experiment to experiment, but nothing could keep his attention. The restless feeling reminded him of the time after he first watched Orihime.

What was it about her that made him feel this way?

"You couldn't do it, could you, Szayel-sama?" asked TREA, from its pedestal a few feet away.

Szayel turned to the cube, an eyebrow twitching. "Do what?"

"You couldn't erase her memories like you wanted," TREA said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Not that I'm surprised. I knew you wouldn't go through with it."

Szayel stared at the machine.

"What? You didn't think I knew what you were trying to do?"

"If that's the case, then why did you ask…Orihime"—Szayel forced the name out—"to give you a kiss? And what about everything you told her? 'From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you, Orihime-chan, for everything you've done for me and Szayel-sama.' Don't tell you've forgotten."

"Of course not!"

"Then?"

"I was ninety-five percent confident you wouldn't erase her memories, but that still left a five percent chance you would," said TREA. "And as I've learned from you, five percent can be enormous, depending on the situation."

The machine's answer surprised Szayel. He thought once TREA stopped talking it turned off. Apparently not.

"I see."

"What I don't understand," the cube said, "is why you wanted to erase her memories in the first place. It's obvious that you have feelings for Orihime-chan! Heck, I think you might even love—"

"I don't love her," Szayel ground out, striding over to TREA. "It's an experiment, nothing more."

TREA sighed. "What is it with you Arrancar and denial? I don't understand! Considering the way you've been acting recently, I would say it stopped being an 'experiment' a long time ago. That's what scares you, isn't it? The only roles you know are scientist and Octava Espada in Aizen's army. Now that something new is being presented to you, you're terrified!"

"Don't talk to me like you understand how the world works!" said Szayel through gritted. He would never admit it, but the words had hit close to home. "It's not as simple as you make it sound."

"Or maybe you're just making things harder than they need to be. It's not that hard to love someone, Szayel-sama," TREA said confidently. "I think you've already got that part down. It's the accepting that you love them that's the hard part."

"The way you speak of it you'd think you'd experienced it firsthand." Szayel scoffed, shaking his head. "But what would you know of love, TREA? You're nothing more than a machine."

The cube didn't respond for a long time. Szayel thought it had turned itself off—or perhaps decided to drop the issue. But then TREA started again, an almost hurt tone to its voice.

"Yes, that's right. I'm nothing more than a machine—screws, bolts, and scraps of metal. But isn't it sad, Szayel-sama, that I—a machine lacking both a heart and a soul—understand the inner workings of a simple thing called 'love,' but you don't?" It laughed. "And you call yourself a 'genius.'"

Szayel leaned against one of the tables, his head resting against his palm. The words resonated within him, cutting deeper than any insult, slander, or curse he ever endured. And they had come from a machine of all things! Somehow that fact made him feel even worse.

A sigh escaped Szayel's lips. Just what had he gotten himself into? And perhaps more importantly: did he really want to get himself out?

"Szayel Aporro-sama?" asked Verona from the doorframe. He remembered the last time he interrupted his master. He wasn't in the mood to be kicked down the hall again. "Am I interrupting anything important?"

"No." Szayel was only too happy for the distraction, even if it did come from his idiot Fraccion. "What is it?"

"Aizen-sama has called an Espada meeting, starting immediately," Lumina said, pushing Verona off to the side.

"Didn't we just have one?" Szayel asked, uninterested.

Lumina nodded. "Yes, but Aizen-sama said this was urgent! Apparently a group has invaded Hueco Mundo, and they're making their way here as we speak."

Finally, a real distraction to take his mind off things. Szayel forced a smirk onto his face.

"Out of the way," he said, shoving the two from the door. "It would seem I have a meeting to attend."

Orihime paced around her room, unable to sit still for any given length of time. She was reminded of when she initially arrived at Las Noches—however long ago that had been—when she would spend most of her days looking out the window.

Her mind felt like it was going a million miles a minute, and it was all because of him. Orihime simply couldn't understand what Szayel was trying to do. First he was kissing her, with an intensity she could never have expected, then he was trying to make her forget about him.

Was Szayel trying to drive her to madness? Because if so, he was certainly doing a good job.

There was no use in trying deluding herself. Orihime realized not long ago she had feelings for the Octava Espada, ones that matched the feelings she had for Ichigo. And perhaps even more than those feelings, only in a different way. When she was with Ichigo Orihime felt reserved, never wanting to show her true self in front of him. But she never had to worry about that with Szayel. He seemed more interested when she was being herself than when she wasn't.

It was nice having someone appreciate her for who she really was.

Orihime made her way to the couch, plopping down on it, and sighed. She lay down, an arm over her eyes, waiting for Ulquiorra to return. He left because there was an Espada meeting called—at least, that's what the low-level Arrancar who had knocked on her door told them.

The door creaked open, and a figure entered the room.

"What was the meeting about, Ulquio—?"

"I'm afraid I'm not Ulquiorra."

Orihime sat straight up. Pushing herself off the couch, she stepped closer to the door. Her heart beat rapidly in her ears.

"Szayel."

Szayel nodded. "It's been a while, Orihi—"

Orihime slapped him before he could finish, the force causing Szayel's head to snap to the side. His head stayed that way briefly, before he turned to face her. Orihime brought her hand to her chest, her palm stinging. The beginnings of tears formed in her eyes, but she knew it wasn't from the pain.

"You deserved that," she said, though whether to convince herself or Szayel, neither were sure.

Szayel's lips pressed together. "You're still upset about before, aren't you?"

"You sound surprised," stated Orihime. She shook her head, her body suddenly worn and listless.
"Why are you here, Szayel? What do you want with me?"

"I don't know."

"Do you like me?"

"I don't know."

"Do you hate me?"

"I don't—"

"Or am I just some experiment to you?" Szayel's eyes widened at the question. Orihime took a step towards him and looked up, her eyes shining. "Ulquiorra told me about the clipboard he found in your lab. I suspected it myself at first, but…after a while, my doubts began to disappear. There were so many things you did for me that didn't make sense, if all you wanted was a guinea pig."

"Orihime—"

"Or maybe that was me being foolish, as usual." Orihime laughed, choking a little as she did. "Maybe I didn't want to believe I was just a test subject. Maybe I wanted to think you were being nice to me and enjoyed my company because…"

Szayel brought his fingers to his temples, hoping to quell the headache that was forming. "It started out that way, yes. As an experiment. But somewhere along the way it…changed."

"Then what is it?" Orihime's hand moved between the two of them. "What is this?"

"I don't know!" repeated Szayel, feeling like a broken record. "It's not that simple. It's not as if I wanted to have these feelings for you. But—"

The fact was he did. No matter what their strange relationship had become, deep down Szayel knew he cared for her, even though he had no right to.

"You think you're the only one who feels that way?" Orihime asked softly. "Do you really think I wanted to have these feelings for you?" She bit her lip to keep her tears from falling. "I didn't. But it doesn't change the fact that I do."

"Then you should understand why I tried to erase your memories," said Szayel. "Our paths have already been determined for us. We're meant to be enemies, nothing more."

"That's not true!" Orihime insisted, touching his shoulder.

Szayel looked at her wearily. "We're both tools, just waiting to be used for some grander purpose. We allow our actions to be driven for the sake of others. You and your friends were meant to destroy us, and we Arrancar, in turn, were created to be used by Aizen-sama to destroy you. No matter how much you hate it, there's nothing you can do to change our fate."

"You're wrong," she said, her hand on her chest. "I think you want to believe fate isn't set in stone. That we can change it. That's why you spoke so passionately about the butterfly effect!"

Szayel removed her hand off his shoulder and placed it at her side. He headed for the door. "That's just wishful thinking, Orihime," he said. "Things like that never happen in real life."

Orihime sighed, watching Szayel walk away from her.

"I was just thinking: if Aizen-sama had never assigned Ulquiorra to that mission, we would've never met."

That's what Szayel had said, right before…

"You've shown so many times you don't have to follow the path set out for you. You can make your own fate," said Orihime, as Szayel's hand touched the doorknob. He stopped. "Don't you remember when you took me outside Las Noches? When you created the garden for me? When you let me play out in the rain? I know it wasn't because of Aizen that you did those things. You did them because you wanted to."

Szayel's fingers twitched as he held them over the knob. Orihime was right. Aizen wasn't the one who ordered him to do any of those things—and it certainly wasn't part of his duties as an Espada either.

"Szayel—"

"I came here to tell you that those friends of yours have invaded Hueco Mundo. That's what the Espada meeting was about. I'm sure Ulquiorra will have more to tell you once he returns." Szayel half-turned to Orihime, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. "You should be happy. They've come to rescue you."

Before Orihime could call out to him again Szayel opened the door and left. She stared at the blank spot where he stood. Her thoughts were even more turbulent with the news he had delivered.

A second later Ulquiorra entered, his face blank. He noticed the troubled look on Orihime's face. "What is it, Inoue?"

"It's nothing, Ulquiorra," said Orihime, shaking her head. She closed her eyes. "So, how did the meeting go?"

Szayel couldn't believe it. How had that idiot Shinigami and the Quincy gotten the better of him? His whole body was wracked with pain from the attack. The top part of his uniform was burnt off, while the lower half was more than slightly singed.

Why did this seem so familiar? Ah, of course. He had been in a similar position with Ulquiorra. But at least then Szayel was being beaten by someone who even he could admit deserved some level of respect.

Not like these lowlifes. It was insulting.

"Honestly, I'm stunned," said the Quincy, staring at Szayel. "To think that you could take that and still be standing is..."

Szayel scoffed. "Of course I can," he said, struggling with the words. "I thought I told—I've analyzed all of your reiatsu. Even with techniques I've never seen, the reiatsu is still yours. By diffusing the impact, I can—I can at least reduce the damage, you idiots!"

He grabbed Lumina, who happened to be nearby, and consumed him, leaving nothing more than half a body. Verona called out, horrified his companion/rival had been eaten, but Szayel ignored him. He could feel his body heal itself, his skin form over his cuts and burns.

The sensation wasn't nearly as pleasant as being healed by Orihime's shield.

Szayel looked back to his opponents, amused. A look of disgust mixed with horror was etched into their faces.

"You're a damn monster!" shouted the Quincy.

"Don't you understand? It's because I'm a monster!"

Szayel smirked. "I prefer to be called a genius." He turned on his heel, his smirk melting as he remembered TREA's words.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The Octava Espada didn't bother facing them. "Where am I going? To change my clothes, of course. If I'm preoccupied with my shabby appearance, I can't fight very well, can I?"

"Oh, give me a—"

"You should consider yourself lucky, Quincy. While I'm changing you can take the time to plan out your next attack," Szayel said, and pointed at them. He grinned. "Not that it matters. When I get back, I'll be sure to butcher both of you."

Szayel could feel their gazes on his back, confused at his actions. There was no need to rush. Those two would be still there, trapped in the labyrinth of his domain. He took his time as headed for his private chambers, passing TREA on his way. It remained silent.

He went over to the closet and pulled out random articles of clothing: a cape, the gloves he made specifically to break through Nnoitra's reitasu, and an extra set of his uniform. He didn't care how everything looked together, so long as the clothes covered him.

Once he was finished Szayel walked out of the room and down the hall, ready to resume the fight. He vaguely wondered how the other Espada were doing with the rest of the invaders. Aaroniero had been defeated, but he doubted anyone cared. The Gillian was expendable.

Just like the rest of them.

"You've shown so many times you don't have to follow the path set out for you. You can make your own fate."

Orihime's words echoed in his head. Szayel stopped in his tracks.

Was this really what he wanted?

He stood there for a long time, lost in his thoughts. Eventually, Szayel sighed and started walking again. This time, his stride was certain.

He had made his decision.