The bad part about venturing far into a new town is finding one’s way back. Ashton, in his musings, had traveled at over a mile from the others, and was now regretting it. At least, not as much as when the clouds suddenly released their burden; rain, and lots of it. Gyoro growled in disapproval, but Ururun simply turned her face skyward, letting the slightly acidic droplets splash off her deep sapphire skin. Slight relief came with the rain, since it broke the stale air that had been building up thickly. Ashton wiped the sweat from his brow, regretting walking so far in the first place. He looked around; the streets seemed completely bare;with the exception of a lone stranger standing still off in the distance, whose eyes were cast skyward and long hair cascading down his back, heavily resting there from the humidity.

At first, Ashton was hesitant to talk to him. He seemed content in standing alone, looking at the heavily polluted air. He did turn towards Dias, walking slowly as to not bring himself too much attention, the statue-like form gradually increasing in size.

"You needn’t comment about the rain; I have senses." Dias was a swordsman, and what was a swordsman without perception?

"It’s shocking," Ashton began, reaching Dias’ side and turning his own face to the sky. "I realize now that we, as Expellians, were an inferior species, but I don’t think I’d ever want a world to be polluted for technology."

"That may be so, but you’ve known for a lot longer time that people will do what they must to get by. It’s the way of life. Kill, or be killed." Ashton sighed, looking at Dias with concern. "That’s a pretty ghastly way to put it."

"More like realistic," Dias shrugged. "At any rate, might I ask why you’re out here?"

"Got lost, found a nice barrel truck and hopped on, and ended up at least a mile away."

"Just what is it with you and barrels? What makes them so damn fascinating?"

"I don’t know. They’re just, amazing."

"Maybe, for a two-year-old."

Ashton grunted and turned his view back to the clouds. Despite the fact that it was allegedly all acid rain, Ashton’s eyes sure didn’t take notice. He stuck out his tongue and tasted the rain. Dias clucked his tongue.

"I hope you get deathly ill from doing that. It would serve you right, drinking toxic rainwater."

"Sure doesn’t taste like it," Ashton chirped, "and I hope that you didn’t mean that seriously."

"What if I did?" Dias began walking down the sidewalk, close to the buildings.

It appeared that the dragons had fallen asleep. They do that too often, Ashton thought, and joined Dias in walking. "Then I would feel badly, of course."

Dias made a sound of displeasure in the back of his throat, low and deep. "Like anything I say ever matters to you."

"Huh?" Ashton blinked, looking to Dias as he walked alongside him slowly. "You matter to me, after all, we travel together, and we fight together, and..."

"And nothing," Dias picked up, "That’s all we are."

Perplexed, Ashton sighed. "I always considered you my friend."

Neither of the two said anything for a while. The rain just continued falling, the soft water making quiet music as it hit various obstructions. By now, Ashton’s and Dias’ soaked hair stuck to their dripping-wet clothing, which stuck to their shivering bodies. The rain was pretty heavy.

Ashton had a large lump in his throat that he couldn’t quite swallow. "What do you consider me?"

"Comrades," Dias drawled, not wanting to broach the subject further, "What else?"

"I dunno."

After another long pause, Dias spoke again. "Were you hoping I said something else?"

"I don’t think so. I just don’t like the fact that we’re not friends. You seem like a really nice guy, deep..."

"Seem. I’m not."

"Aww," Ashton pouted, "that can’t be true."

"Would you consider yourself nice if all you ever did was hurt those you came in contact with?" Dias spat. "I didn’t think so."

"You’re not hurting me."

"Maybe not, but if you know anything about me, you know that it’s in my blood to hurt others."

"How so?"

"Did you ever find out the real reason why I left Arlia?"

"Um," Ashton paused, thinking, "yeah, Rena told me it was because your family died."

"Correct, but vague. All of Rena’s stories are vague. Don’t go to her for facts, Ashton, go to her for details. She excels in all things frilly," Dias accounted bitterly.

"So, what really happened? If you don’t mind my asking."

"It’s none of your business, and I do." Dias stomped ahead.

"Please? It’s not as though we’re young children. I don’t go around telling other’s business," Ashton persuaded, catching up to him again.

"That’s beyond the point. What I want to kept private is going to be kept private unless I say something about it, and I don’t give a damn if you disagree."

Silence invaded the area once again. The sullen requiem played on softly, dousing everything in its water. A meek voice broke the muted state. "You shouldn’t keep everything bottled in, Dias. You’re just going to end up hurting yourself."

"What did I just say?" Dias rose his voice, and then stopped for a moment, as though thinking. "You don’t want my problems. You can’t handle them."

"You don’t know that," Ashton said. "You don’t need to be a selfish pig all the time, you know. You can tell me."

Dias threw up his arms, as though admitting defeat. "Fine. I’ll tell you." Ten minutes, a few of Ashton’s gasps and much rainfall later, the story was told.

"I,I had no idea."

"No one ever does. No one understands that it’s all my fault, that I caused Cecile’s and my parents’ death, and that I hurt those around me." "You didn't cause their deaths, you could only watch, Dias. It's not as though you had any control."

"....And that lack of control is just what got them killed. I failed to protect them. I failed them."

"Dias, you shouldn’t blame yourself for their murder. Even if you weren’t there, that horrible accident have happened anyway. You must see that."

The other man sighed, stopping for a moment. "It’s so hard. I want to protect Rena, but the only person she wants to even talk to is Claude."

"They do seem to be a bit of an item, especially lately," Ashton agreed.

"It’s hard. Cecile and Rena were so alike when they were the same age, but now, I don’t even know who Rena is any more."

"She’s grown up, Dias. Cecile is gone. Rena is an adult. You have to move on."

"I suppose I do." The rain was starting to fade slightly, and the hotel loomed ahead.

"Dias, really, I don’t care what kind of pain you have, it’s never too much."

"It is." "When?" Ashton seemed slightly confused.

"When it’s so deep, you can’t tell anyone."

"I,I don’t see what could possibly be beyond words. It just depends on the person."

"Not all pain can be healed with words," Dias mumbled.

"Like what?"

The nearby alleyway provided easy access for the quick, blind moment that came next. Ashton was suddenly jerked into the alley, Dias’ lips clamped onto his and taking his breath away. Loud breath hissed out the brunette man’s nose, the dragons blinking awake. Dias’ right and left legs pinned Ashton’s left leg to the wall, so that the older man was more-or-less straddling him but not quite all the same. Ashton blinked in surprise, then allowed his eyelids to flutter shut, a hand trailing up Dias’ back to entangle itself in the large mass of light blue hair. Twin hearts beat quickly at different rhythms. Dias was offering a taste of heaven and Ashton was all too accepting of it. Their wet tongues interlocked and shared their own individual juices; both sighed.

Abruptly, Dias broke off the kiss, straightening his clothes. He ran opposite the hotel, down some unknown street. The only word that came out of his mouth was a hasty "Goodbye."

And Ashton was left there, feeling just the pain Dias had warned him of, soaking wet and miserable in the darkened alleyway. What was that? A kiss...a passionate, yearningful kiss...and then "Goodbye?" Ashton understood that Dias was going through a lot of pain, but the sudden exit was inexcusable. Ashton would have to ask Dias about his hasty actions, for he was very confused and bewildered. Maybe he would get another kiss out of it.

Ashton blanched at the thought, not even bothering to move from where he was so strongly held against the wall. His breath formed mist as it floated up toward deathly-hued clouds.