The drive back was mainly characterized by the silence that got increasingly more unbearable as time passed. Although at first Vrumugun had sat completely still, after a short while he could not help but move just slightly along with the beat of the music. A quick glance told him that Zangulus was doing the same. It was somewhat awkward, as bad feelings still lingered and it tinted their motions and motivations.

They finally pulled into their complex, noting only a few windows having any kind of light, reasonable considering what time it was. Vrumugun had, considerately, turned the music down from the near-deafening volume it had before before pulling in. Their arrival therefore was relatively eventless, and no one bothered or cared to look out their window to see the two as they scaled the stairs that led to their small apartment.

Zangulus followed along behind him. He still felt somewhat angry, but he also hated having to deal with these long silences. In arguments past Vrumugun had constantly and almost invariably proven that he could easily defeat Zangulus in bouts of icy silence, and Zangulus could only be quiet so long before he felt the urge to comment on something, anything. He was very outspoken, and although he forayed into the realm of speechlessness for some time, he never felt at home there.

Vrumugun did not look behind him to confirm his friend's presence, although the noise of his shoes hitting the floor was an easy auditory indication. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, fitting it into the door's lock, feeling Zangulus' presence nearby more through body heat then anything else.

He sighed slightly to himself. Although he was by nature a rather taciturn person, he did not like his silence to be forced and he disliked this type of argument just as much as Zangulus did. He paused for a moment, turning the knob and feeling the mechanism release, before managing to think of something to say.

His voice was very quiet but not completely emotionless. Underneath the words there was a tinge of sadness, and his voice told more then he had intended...that he had given up.

"What was he like?"

He stepped into the apartment, almost hearing Zangulus start behind him at the sudden question. It was rare that he would break the silence.

Zangulus stepped inside and headed for the one couch they owned in front of the television, sitting and beginning to pull off his shoes. He glanced up at Vrumugun, who automatically headed for the bathroom to wash off the makeup that he seemed to hate so much. The entire procedure was routine, Vrumugun going to the bathroom and Zangulus heading for the couch, and they rarely deviated from their almost pre-planned actions.

Although the conversation had been opened, Zangulus was unprepared, and he wasn't sure how to respond at first. He held one shoe in his hand before he could think of something to say that would be non-threatening and un-incriminating.

"He was nice."

Again, silence greeted him, although this time it didn't seem to hold any of the hostility it contained before. He could tell, from the tone in his voice from before, that Vrumugun had apparently given up the argument, or whatever grudge he was holding, with the knowledge that it would eventually be useless. A sad kind of submission to something that he had become used to.

He pulled off his sock and other shoe, spreading his toes, feeling the cool air, before dropping both of his shoes, where they fell almost underneath the couch. He paused, staring at his feet, trying to think of what else he could say, not feeling comfortable at leaving the conversation at two simple statements. He stood, noting the peculiar feel of one sock compared to his bare foot on the bare floor, but decided he'd keep it that way, although he had no particular reason to do so.

He walked over to the bathroom, opening the slightly ajar door cautiously. Vrumugun had taken his typical stance in front of the mirror. There were long pauses in his motions where he would simply stare at his reflection, unknown thoughts going through his head before he would seem to remember what he was doing, wetting his fingers and rubbing at the markings around and underneath his eyes, his face completely emotionless.

Vrumugun's eyes glanced at him through the use of the mirror, and then turned downward for a moment, a quick and unintentionally open breaking of eye-contact. He didn't say anything before resuming his work at removing the markings, black and blue ink smearing and blending into his skin before disappearing gradually. He noted that the large ankh and the other accessories Vrumugun wore had already been cast off to one side, put in an almost organized pile beside the hamper.

Zangulus felt increasingly awkward. Usually arguments of silence like this lasted a bit longer, and although Vrumugun often would give up when he felt like Zangulus was being too obstinate in his opinions, it always made him feel somewhat guilty. He always felt like the villain in these scenarios, even if all his motivations and reasons seemed just. He looked back down at his feet again, shoving his hands in his pockets. His fingertips brushed against the cap of the water bottle.

"...Really nice..." Zangulus wasn't sure what else he could say. He didn't want to bring up-

"Is that why you went to dance with him?"

Normally his tone would have held some hidden anger or venom, but this time it was just a quiet statement of a fact. It didn't make Zangulus feel any better. He turned away for a moment, anger rising to replace his confusion.

"It's hard to explain, I mean...I didn't mean to leave you alone but I couldn't really explain it there...he was just..."

He glanced upwards to the corner of the door frame he was leaning on, not wanting to make eye-contact. The slight trickle of water continued to pervade the bathroom, and occasional breaks in the sound were the only easy indications that Vrumugun was continuing with what he had been doing before. He sighed softly, not sure of how to explain it. "He was...sad...very sad and...lonely in this terrible way...I just wanted to help him feel a bit more at home, y'know. Help him...feel everything."

There was an awkward pause. He could see slight movement from Vrumugun from the corner of his eye, but he couldn't identify exactly what it was.

"Ah."

It was a simple, quick statement with no emotion, but it did not make Zangulus feel better. It, in fact, only made him feel more guilty then he had before. He turned his head to look at him, curiousity overcoming him, finding the silent man drying his face off with a nearby towel.

"Do you know what I mean? It's..." Zangulus fumbled for any words that wouldn't make the situation any worse then it was. "It's...y'know..."

He gestured inarticulately, returning his eyes back to the corner of the doorframe. "It's...complicated..."

He waited, hoping for Vrumugun to say anything to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. The water ceased it's noise, and he turned his head again. Vrumugun had taken off the leather vest he was wearing and was digging through the hamper next to the sink. He could see his shoulderblades protruding from his back, along with his spine, slight strands of brown hair sliding down to find their place in front of his shoulders.

It only took a few moments before Vrumugun finally found his most common and beloved article of clothing. A large, dark grey hooded sweatshirt with a front pouch. He pulled it over his head quickly, both arms finding their way through the sleeves with easy and practiced grace, the thick fabric falling to obscure his thin body from view. The hood was already up considering the way that he had put the sweater on, and he reached his hands underneath, untying the black cloth that had covered his head and placing it in the hamper, almost as a replacement.

And still, only the rustle of fabric had served to break the silence that continued to grow.

"You know what I mean, right?" Zangulus attempted again. Maybe he didn't hear me...

Vrumugun didn't turn around. He, in fact, showed no sign of hearing him at all, not even a change or pause in his motions. He continued digging through the hamper, pulling some clothes out but placing them nearby in a semi-folded pile, before removing a pair of jeans. He stared at them for a few seconds, apparently thinking or considering something.

Finally he turned around, and his face told Zangulus nothing. Not even his eyes betrayed the slightest bit of emotion as he walked towards him. Zangulus moved out of the doorway, and Vrumugun left the bathroom without a word, going into his room and closing the door behind him.

Was he angry? Sad? Confused? Upset?

Zangulus hated this. He hated not being able to tell and not knowing how to react.

Frustrated, but trying to keep himself from getting angry, he cast off his own necklace, going back near the front door and opening the nearby closet. Vrumugun digging out one of his favorite sweaters reminded Zangulus that he had something of his own that would help him feel better.

His hands reached automatically up towards the upper shelf of the closet, closing around the brim of his favorite hat. It was a greyish-brown, floppy, wide-brimmed hat that he did not even recall getting, although it always made him feel better to have it or wear it. He placed it on his head, feeling it settle naturally, and his feelings calmed slightly. He wasn't sure why this hat had this effect on him, but it probably wasn't important. Vrumugun's sweater probably had the same effect on him.

Vrumugun...

Rolling his eyes, he moved to the couch and sat down, clicking on the TV. He wasn't interested in any of the programs, only interested in the noise blocking out some of his more bothersome thoughts.

Fine, if Vrumugun didn't want to talk to him, then fine. He could do what he wanted. It didn't matter to him.

Zangulus was actually quite tired, but he didn't want to admit or show it, clicking through several channels with the volume low. Maybe Vrumugun would go to sleep or something, but not him.

The click of a door opening and closing caught his attention, and he glanced over to Vrumugun's room, where he found him exiting, the black pants now replaced with looser blue jeans. He paused, his back to the door but his hand still resting on the knob. The two of them stared at eachother for a moment, Vrumugun's face still revealing no emotion. He finally moved, breaking eye-contact, his fingers sliding off the metal as he walked over to the couch, bare feet moving almost noiselessly across the equally bare floor. He sat down at the opposite end of the couch, his eyes focusing on the flashing pictures, for all the world acting as if Zangulus was not even there.

The TV flickered with nonsense for a few minutes, Zangulus feeling more and more awkward. Maybe he should try again...it was worth a shot...

"I don't know..." At the sound of his voice he caught Vrumugun's ice eyes glancing in his direction for a few seconds. At least he had awknowledged his presence. "I mean...there was...it's hard to explain...there was something about him. Something...real." He scratched his head for a moment. "Something honest...it was different...strange..."

Vrumugun turned towards him to look at him, but still said nothing. His face followed suit.

"It was like...kind of like he was trying to lose himself. Lose himself in the music...I don't know, it's...d'you know what I mean?" Hoping that would at least prompt him into a response, Zangulus was disappointed as Vrumugun continued to stare at the TV, not a single word escaping his lips or an emotion crossing his face.

"We...talked for a while..." He didn't want to mention dancing with him, as he was sure that was where the heart of the argument was. "He was really nice...but he...avoided a lot of questions. He didn't like talking about being there. I think he was nervous, kind of...probably never been there before...you know the type."

No response.

"He seemed like a really nice guy though...and we..." He tried to think of some other way to phrase it, still not wanting to bring it up. "Well, y'know...later on..."

He mentally cursed himself after the words left him. There were probably a thousand better ways he could phrased that. Ugh, he was just making this worse.

"He...kind of freaked out." Zangulus found the memory more unsettling then before now that he had more time to think of exactly what had happened. "'Cause he didn't know what time it is. You know I don't wear a watch so I couldn't tell him...he had this major fit...it was like he thought he was goin' to die or something..."

Vrumugun continued to stare forward.

"I don't know..." Zangulus felt a growing frustration at him. He was trying to talk to him, the least he could do was respond in some way, whether it was anger or disgust or anything. "It's hard to explain..."

Silence.

He felt muscles tightening to narrow his eyes, but he fought the temptation. He tried to think of something that he would have to answer, or at least provoke something from him. "What did you do tonight?"

He again cursed himself. He didn't intend for it to sound so cruel, but now it just sounded like he was baiting or tormenting him. He toyed with some of the frayed strands of his jacket, wishing that he had the mental or linguistic grace to avoid making these all-too-common mistakes.

Even at the direct question, Vrumugun did not turn around to face him. There was a momentary twitch in his face, but it was hard to tell whether it was unintentional or some kind of repressed emotion surfacing. That was encouraging in it's own right...maybe he would start talking again...

"Vru-"

"He was taken."

He was startled by the fact that Vrumugun cut him off, but was glad for his return to the conversation.

"Yeah..."

Vrumugun made a noncommital noise. Zangulus felt somewhat obligated to continue, the memories of what had happened causing him to clench his hand to a fist.

"Yeah, taken by this abusive punk-@#^#$...she actually hits him! Gah, it makes me so angry...I hate it when people think they can do that to other people...it's just so frustrating...I wish I could have done something...he didn't deserve that, you know...? God, I'm worried about him, if he's okay...I mean, what if...I don't know..."

Zangulus felt a growing frustration at himself for not being able to articulate himself any better, not even when he was this upset or felt so strongly about something. He couldn't even explain how angry the entire thing had made him, or how he felt about Gourry, although he was sure that Vrumugun didn't actually want to know everything in that case...he could never find the right words to express himself, and it just made things worse.

Vrumugun didn't say anything, only nodding, but even that was enough to make Zangulus feel a bit better. Maybe he would understand...

Vrumugun's voice was soft, but the tone was no longer that of sadness. It was hard to identify, but some emotion lay in his words.

"Do you want my advice?"

Zangulus paused, Vrumugun ever willingly volunteering speech uncommon, but eventually nodded. There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice still tinged by the unidentifiable emotion.

"Let it go."

With that, Vrumugun stood and, without any emotion on his face, walked out of the room, entering his room and closing the door slowly behind him. Zangulus watched him for a moment, then felt the slight burst of anger he had been repressing for the majority of the evening.

"Feh, 'let it go'...like I have a problem or something...I'll do whatever I want, it's my life..." He muttered under his breath before turning back to the television.

It was fully an hour before it had lulled him into a sleepy enough state to turn it off and head to his own room, shedding his jacket and what was underneath it, and eventually sliding underneath his own covers, the events of the night still weighing heavily on his mind.

Vrumugun woke somewhat early after what seemed to be twenty minutes of sleep, but in truth turned out to be about three hours. Either way, he was tired and somewhat groggy, but thankfully it was the first day of the weekend, thus precluding any need for him to be anywhere.

He lay in bed for a few moments, struggling to remember the fleeting shreds of his dreams, his eyes closing again for a few moments. He eventually gave into his body and slipped back into sleep, this time for four more hours.

When he again woke, his dreams slipped from him as quickly as before as he forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes to try and force the thought of sleep from them. He adjusted his sweater, which had slid slightly to one side in his nightly motions and left his bed, yawning silently as he headed out into the living room.

The silence that hung over the apartment was a sure sign that Zangulus was still asleep, and when, to confirm this, he took a quick peek into his bedroom he found himself to be correct. He noted with a slight shake of his head that he hadn't even removed the dark blue from around his eyes. Fortunately his sheets were dark anyway, so it wasn't immediately visible if they had been stained or anything of that nature.

However, amusingly enough, the blue powder had spread over Zangulus' face in large swathes, and Vrumugun, despite his best efforts, could not help a small smile at that. He'd be in for a surprise when he woke.

He shut the door quietly and began walking towards the kitchen, the first place his body told him to go, a sigh escaping him.

He was almost positive that Zangulus was upset at him slightly, most likely for how he had acted the previous night. As he began to fix himself something to eat, he ran over his own actions in his mind.

In retrospect, there were many things that he should have said or done, but it was far too late for that now. He shouldn't have remained so silent, as that had done nothing to help the situation, but he did not know what he should have said. He didn't know how to respond to what Zangulus had told him...

He was nice...he was sad...he was lonely...he was real...

He should have said something, whether vicious or not, but instead nothing had come to mind. He had just been silent, quiet, his face reverting to it's most common expression whenever he came under emotional turmoil. He had no idea how to respond.

He was no longer angry at Zangulus. He was beginning to wonder whether or not he had ever truly been angry at him. He wasn't even sure if he was depressed by his actions. He just felt sad and empty inside, and he couldn't place why.

He had to let go of this all. To let go of his resentment. He just had to accept this now as part of his life that he was not able to change. He just had...had to accept this.

He made his way to the couch, carrying the sandwhich he had made himself in one hand, a soda in the other, as he sat down. He stared at the blank screen in front of him, seeing his vague reflection in the near-black of the glass. His reflection showed that his face, again, had taken on the emotionless mask that he had become so accustomed to.

When Zangulus woke, he was going to speak to him. He didn't want to keep this silence going. Even if he wasn't sure what to say or how he was feeling, he was going to say something...

He hated fighting with him like this as much as he was sure the feeling was reciprocated. He disliked the awkwardness of the entire situation, the strain it put on something that never should have required this much thought. He wanted this resolved...even if he just had to...as he had put it last night...let the whole thing go.

He finally clicked on the TV, not sure how long he had been staring at the glass thinking without realizing it, and tried to blank out his thoughts as he ate. Eventually, finding this was not working, he pulled one of his favorite books from one of the bookshelves and decided to read that, although he kept the television on in the background.

Perhaps two hours went by before Zangulus woke, stumbling out of his room sleepily, black hair wildly flaring around his head, although his hat kept some of it under control or hidden. The blue color now covered the majority of his face. He noticed Vrumugun sitting on the couch and waved to him clumsily.

Vrumugun stared at him for a moment, again finding words frustratingly escaping him. Instead, he just pointed at his face.

"What?" Zangulus' voice was sleepy and blurred, and he turned towards the bathroom, sticking his head in to get a look at himself. The loud obscenity that followed made Vrumugun smile slightly to himself, watching the bathroom door shut behind his friend.

Feeling slightly better, he returned his attention to his book.

Zangulus emerged a short while later, his hair brushed and tied back into it's ponytail once again and his face clean of the offending color. He had also changed his clothes, this time settling for a pair of jeans and a shirt with the words "Drink Coffee! Do stupid things faster with more energy!". He yawned loudly again before rummaging through the kitchen for something to eat. Vrumugun had long ago finished his meal, although he continued to nurse his soda, and he kept a hand on his page. He never got much reading done while Zangulus was awake, as he constantly said or did things that commanded his attention. He was used to it and had adapted to it.

Zangulus eventually made his way to the couch, a bag of chips in one hand. He sat down with another yawn, glancing at Vrumugun again.

Although it pained him to do so, he gave a soft smile in response. He hated having to just give up an argument like this, particularly one that he felt should rightfully be his, but at this point he just wanted this to stop.

Zangulus looked visibly relieved at the show of emotion from Vrumugun and sighed again, looking back at the glowing screen.

There was a short pause, but Vrumugun didn't want it to extend longer then necessary.

"Any dreams?"

"I don't know." Zangulus gave a neutral reply as more of a sign that he had heard Vrumugun's question but had not thought of a real answer yet. There was only a short pause before he spoke again. "I can't really remember right now. I think Gourry and Lina were in it."

Vrumugun felt his eye twitch for a moment, although he did not know why, and tried to focus on the words beneath his hands. He was even dreaming about them... "A nightmare?"

Zangulus looked kind of thoughtful, and now it was common knowledge that neither of them were actually paying attention to what they were looking at. "I guess it was...it just makes me so angry...! He doesn't deserve to be treated like that."

Vrumugun sighed to himself as he sensed one of Zangulus' rants coming up. The displeasure and disapproval he had for Zangulus' actions had now resurfaced, but his face remained impassive. They'd probably never see Gourry again, but Zangulus had already worked it up into a cause to fight for. No doubt he would eventually be dragged all around town looking for Gourry until Zangulus found some other cause to rally behind for a short period.

And at this rate, he would have to deal with Gourry in the apartment. That was something that he had far from reconciled with, and it was something that he did not want nor look forward too.

"I mean, this guy, you could just tell he was really sensitive! I mean, he had these eyes...these big, innocent eyes..." Zangulus took on a slightly wistful tone. "He even worked out! And his hair...really long blonde hair...you could tell he took care of it, it was beautiful...I mean...I can't believe anyone would ever hurt him! How on earth did he ever get in with her? He's not a punk, he can't be..."

Vrumugun had forgot that Gourry was actually a punk, but now that the knowledge had been brought back to him, it did not soften his opinion.

"He belongs with us." Zangulus gestured vaguely for a moment, and Vrumugun was unsure whether or not he meant the raver scene or with the two of them in their apartment. He sincerely hoped it was the former. "I mean, when he was with me, he was really happy. I bet he never feels like that with her. It's just terrible that he's letting her do this to him! I can't believe she thinks she has the right! It just makes me so angry...! If only I could find her, I'd tell her what I think of her-"

"Zangulus, just let it go." Vrumugun turned a page in his book more for show then for anything else, resentment growing in him deeply for Gourry for being just so perfect, to have captured Zangulus' interest so quickly. He hated it when Zangulus did this, he hated these little fleeting romances with their promises and forevers and tearful goodbyes, if there even was one. He hated the fact that Zangulus just had so many of them when he knew he was better then that.

Your Gourry can not be perfect if he has taken up with someone like Lina.

Vrumugun kept his bitter thoughts to himself, although something did escape his lips. "Besides, the odds are against you ever seeing him again."

He was surprised at himself for actually digging open that wound so quickly and efficiently, but at the moment he could rationalize it with how he was acting. Zangulus stared at him with open annoyance and answered with just as obvious sarcasm. "Well gee, that makes me feel a lot better."

A thousand vicious responses quickly cycled through Vrumugun's mind, although he said nothing. Vrumugun returned his gaze back to his book, striving to keep his emotions under his careful lock. "Just let it go."

"I can't just 'let it go'!" Zangulus stood, anger entering his voice. He crossed his arms angrily, staring down at Vrumugun with a look of self-righteous indignation. Whatever results Zangulus had expected with perfoming the action, it probably wasn't Vrumugun's angry, quiet stare. "There's this great guy out there in this horrible relationship! I can't just 'let it go' when he's out there suffering at her hands!" Zangulus flopped back onto the couch in an angry motion, his arms still crossed. "It's just sickening! I can't just watch people hurt like that! To be in that kind of relationship! He needs attention, he needs stability, he needs someone-"

Vrumugun's efforts to keep his emotions under control failed after several eye twitches. He stood in one swift motion, surprising Zangulus into wide-eyed silence. He threw his book down on the couch angrily, his eyes narrowed.

"Well I am sure that after you magically solve all his problems, you will live happily ever after."

With that, Vrumugun strode angrily to his room, slamming the door behind him, secretly pleased at the completely shocked expression that had come over Zangulus' face. He was unable, as it were, to witness the aftermath, which consisted of Zangulus crossing his arms and darkly muttering to himself "I hate it when he does this."

"Where're you going?"

Vrumugun glanced over at where Zangulus was working at the computer, unable to hide his distaste. It had been at least an hour since he had stormed out of the room, and neither of them made any effort to speak to the other, evidently harboring their own hurt feelings and opinions from the argument.

Why would you care? Does I matter to you? If I was out looking for perfect Gourry, then you would be interested. Then you would really want to know.

Instead of saying several things that came into his mind, he said nothing, his hands firmly ensconced in the front pouch of his sweater, toying with his keys. He continued walking towards the door, trying to keep his eyes forward and his face impassive, although at several points both anger and hurt managed to flicker across him.

He stopped abruptly as he felt Zangulus grab his upper arm, both pulling one of his arms free of the pouch and halting his progress. He turned on him, finding that Zangulus was probably just as angry at him as it was vice versa. He glared at him, pulling his arm free, although Zangulus did not move from where he was standing.

"At least tell me where you're going, for Christ's sake."

Vrumugun moved towards the doorknob for a moment, not sure of whether to keep silent or not, but finally matched eyes with him, glaring for a precious moment, his quiet voice underscored with deep anger.

"Out."

He opened the door, not sure of whether Zangulus would follow or not, but found that the door closed behind him easily. He walked towards his car, still feeling deeply upset as he started up and began to drive, not exactly sure of where he was going.