A week passed, and one would think everyone would forget about our run-in with the strange man from the future.

Yeah, right. It was all any of us could talk about. It was almost like his very existence had become a brand new puzzle that had to be solved; and everyone wanted to be the one to figure it out.

We had been told to stay away from Kagen by Papa; he said that he would feel better if we stayed away from him until they knew more about him.

We told them we would, but it was a lie.

Saturday once again came, and I found myself without anything to do. Vienna was at practice for the ice skating thing she was so found of, and Lysander was hanging out with Gohan; which they often did, to talk about nerd stuff. I was always welcome to come, but I always passed for something more exciting.

So I was alone. Da had told me to get lost, basically, so he and Papa could… well, let's just say they wanted me to go away for a while.

I went into town and got a Slurpy; which used up all the money I had managed to save in the past few weeks. We didn't get an allowance; Da insisted that if we wanted something, we had to either have the balls to steal it, or find a way to pay for it ourselves. Papa and Da didn't have jobs, so usually; there was no money to give anyway.

I walked around for a while, just looking and slurping, until I found myself in the slums. I turned around to leave, not interested in someone asking me for change or whatever, when I came across someone I recognized.

Kagen was sitting on the stairs before an abandoned restaurant. He was smoking, and staring off into space.

I went over to him. "Hey," I said cheerfully.

He looked up at me, putting a hand across his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. "Hey, it's one of the triplets!" He said in a scratchy voice.

"Aizel," I replied.

"Yeah. Vegeta's son." He took a drag from his cigarette and then scooted over and motioned for me to sit down.

I set down my Slurpy near his feet and took up the space he offered. "How have you been?"

He snorted out something like a laugh. "Win some, loose some." He glanced over at me, and then held out the cigarette to me. "You smoke?"

I shook my head. "I'm trying to quit."

He laughed, "You're a funny kid, you know?"

"Thanks,"

"Yeah. It's good to be funny; good to be a wise guy." He paused for a while. "I'm thinking I might sober up," He said all of a sudden. "Get a job, maybe."

I nodded, though I wondered why he would need a job.

"Why a job?" I asked hesitantly.

He shrugged. "Maybe a job would give me some kind of goal in life." He paused and leaned in closer to me. "And I'm almost out of blow."

"So you're going to sober up, so you can get a job, so you can buy more blow?" I asked. "Well, that sounds like a brilliant plan."

He scratched at his chin, which had begun to grow patchy stubble. "I see your point. That doesn't make too much sense, does it?"

"It doesn't make any sense."

"But why does it have to?" He asked. I had known he was going to say that. Somewhere in his twisted logic, I think I got through to him, though, for he stood up.

"Here," He emptied his pockets, which had three more packets of cocaine and an empty carton of cigarettes in them. He held it all out to me. "I don't need them any more. I'm going to check myself into rehab right now."

I stared at him, and wondered how wise it was to take the drugs from him. I would be helping him, but then again, I'd be carrying about twenty grams of cocaine in my pockets.

He turned to leave, but then turned back around. "One more, and then I go cold turkey." He took one of the little bags from me and poured the contents onto the back of his hand. He snorted it all in one breath.

He leaned back in ecstasy, his eyes falling shut. Then he started sniffling, and rubbing at his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they were wild and bloodshot. "Okay, I'm ready."

He didn't move.

"I'm going to go get clean."

I nodded, but he still didn't move.

"Then I'll get a job,"

"Go!" I cried, and he jumped.

He took a step, and then sat back down on the steps. "No use in wasting all this blow, though," He said, taking the remaining bags from me. "I'll go right after I finish these off."

I rolled my eyes and propped my head onto my hand. He truly was an addict. I bet if he didn't have access to drugs for a week, he would loose his mind.

I knew about drugs from school. I knew all about marijuana, and heroine, and meth, but I didn't know all that much about cocaine. Heroine and meth were the big ones that actually killed people, while marijuana was the most common. That was probably why they spent so much time one those.

I did know that cocaine was dangerous stuff to mess around with, though. I knew it was really addictive too.

I glanced over at him.

He was jumpy now; he kept blinking rapidly, and he could barely control the spasms of his muscles.

"How old are you, kid?" He asked and rubbed at his nose again.

"Fourteen." I responded.

"Ever done any drugs?"

"No,"

"Ever had sex?"

"No,"

He scoffed. "I bet you got yourself a nice little girlfriend, don't cha?"

"No," I laughed good-naturedly. "No, not right now." I had never actually had a girlfriend before.

He turned to me, eyebrows raised. He was doing that thing that I sometimes saw people do, where they jiggled their legs up and down.

"Well, my advice to you is to go out and get a girl, and get her pregnant as fast as you can."

I frowned with confusion. "Why?"

"Because kids are great. Kids are the best thing that can happen to you. If you go out and have a bunch of kids, you'll be alright."

"Do you have any kids?"

He shook his head. "I was almost married though. The day of the wedding, she found out I still had a drug problem. She never showed up at the church."

"That's too bad," I said sympathetically.

"Yeah," He agreed. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess. My only regret is that I never got to sleep with her. She was one of those religious types that were all about the 'save yourself for marriage' crap." He flicked the remaining butt of his cigarette onto the ground and lit up another one. He lit the match by striking it on the back of his front teeth.

"Ever been kissed?"

I was feeling more and more uncomfortable the more questions he asked me. "No, I haven't."

"That's a damn shame." He remarked. "One day, I might be nice enough to get you a whore."

I laughed nervously. "That's okay,"

"What's the matter? Don't like girls?" I was about to answer, but he cut me off. "Maybe you have a thing for guys. Nothing wrong with that,"

I had honestly never given the subject much thought. I found myself smitten over both sexes occasionally, and more than once, putting guys before girls on my list of people I would date. But I never sat down and said, "I'm gay" or "I like girls". I had never thought it necessary.

"So you've honestly never been kissed?" He asked, finishing off the second cigarette and casting this one aside as well.

I shook my head.

He told me to stand up, and I did. He turned me around twice, and then cocked an eyebrow. "You're quite a looker," He declared, "I'm surprised girls aren't all over you."

I didn't know what to say to this, so I sat back down, my face going hot.

"I myself," He went on, "Don't care much about gender. As long as they got a nice ass, I'm happy."

I had to keep myself from blushing. I cleared my throat, a thing I did when I was uncomfortable.

"I need a drink," He said, "Want to tag along?"

I shrugged and followed him to a convince store. I was glad he was done talking about kissing and sex, and that we were getting out of the cold.

He bought something I'd never heard of before and we went back to the abandoned restaurant. He took me around to the back and kicked the door down. Inside was much warmer than outside, for the wind could not as easily get in. It was still cold though, and before long, my teeth were chattering.

He sat down on the floor and opened the bottle with his teeth. He tipped back his head and took several long swigs. "Ah! Warms ya up!" He held the bottle out to me.

I took it without a word and stared into it. I had been told in school not to drink, and Papa would have told me the same thing. But Da had this philosophy that it was important that children make their own mistakes. And it wasn't very much. I probably wouldn't even get drunk.

I took a very small sip, and then handed it back to him. It was really sour and gross; it tasted like peroxide.

But he seemed to enjoy it, for he downed half of it in his next swig. He lay back, basking in the intensity of his high. "I'm not an alcoholic," He suddenly said, "But I could sure become one."

I sat down on the floor and stared at him. His eyes were closed, and his hands were behind his head.

He lay there for a long time, until I thought he'd fallen asleep.

I looked over to the bottle and took one more small sip. It didn't taste as bad the second time. I took a third, and began to feel my face grow hot. Before I knew it, the bottle was almost empty.

I was no longer cold, and my head was swimming. Everything was just fantastic. And funny. Kagen opened his eyes, and I started to laugh for no reason.

He sat up and stared at me, a confused smile on his face. "You okay?" He asked.

I got up on my knees and nearly pitched forward. He caught my shoulders and got me to sit back down. "Yeah," I replied. "I'm gr-r-r-eat!" I mimicked the tiger from the cereal box, and started laughing once more.

Kagen was grinning broadly as I made a fool of myself for nearly half an hour. I got up, and I danced, and I sang, badly, and I jumped around. Then, finally, I threw up all over the floor.

Kagen was laughing hysterically. "Can't hold your liquor, huh?"

I came back and sat down again, exhausted. I felt sick, and I felt the initial 'buzz' starting to leave me.

"Here," Kagen said, and handed me the bottle. "Take a few more sips. Just little ones; you just want to settle your stomach."

It didn't occur to me not to listen to him, so I finished off the rest of the bottle. I did feel a little better after that, and my mouth no longer tasted like vomit.

"First drink?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I figured it was," He was still smiling. He had me open my mouth, and then he riffled my hair. "You're alright."

For a long while, I was quiet. He began to slip back into unconsciousness, so I started talking so he would keep me company.

"Is it really bad that I've never been kissed?"

His eyes opened his again slowly, and his head jerked. He looked over at me and seemed to consider this. "No, not really."

"When did you have your first kiss?"

His eyes fell closed again. "Nine." He said after a moment.

"Who was it?"

"I don't remember his name."

"It was a guy?" I asked casually.

"Yeah. He was a lot older than I was. Probably around your Da's age." He sighed. "He was my first lover."

"You had a lover when you were nine?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "And he was that old?"

He laughed slightly at me. "I told him I was sixteen."

"And he believed you?" I was in shock by then; completely dumbfounded.

"I think he wanted to believe me," He said, "And he never asked me again." He opened one eye, and then the other. "Get over it. It's not like it was rape or anything."

I continued to stare at him.

He sat up, his expression growing hostile. "And it wasn't love either, so don't be so worried about it… And it happened a long time ago." He crossed his arms. He scratched at his chest, his high diminishing with each passing second.

"If… it wasn't love, then why were you his lover?" I asked timidly.

His expression softened somewhat. "He fed me. Gave me a place to stay. As long as I slept with him whenever he wanted, he'd give me whatever I needed to stay alive."

"Where were your parents?"

"I don't know," He said with a shrug. "I know my mother was dead. I don't know where my father was though. He was too busy to deal with me, though."

"That's pretty shitty," I replied.

His eyebrows rose. "Where are your parents?"

I was about to reply, but he cut in.

"Too busy to deal with you."

He had me there, but it wasn't the same thing. My parents would never let me spend time with an older man while they were… off doing something else.

This revelation troubled me greatly. He and I were not so different.

I looked back up at him, at a lost for words. I must have looked pretty pitiful, or helpless, for his expression of hostility melted completely.

He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. "Don't worry about it. Your parents wouldn't screw you over like mine did."

I could feel the bone beneath his clothes, and they poked me whenever either of us moved.

"Kagen," I said after a moment.

"Call me Kage," he replied. "I like Kage better."

I nodded against his chest. "Will you kiss me?"

He paused, and released me.

I thought for one terrifying moment, he was going to leave. He seemed to think it over, and then he nodded. "I'll kiss you, if you do something for me in return."

"Okay," I said, my voice trembling.

He sat up straighter, and came very close to my face. I didn't move, and allowed him to plant one, feather light kiss on my lips. All the blood rushed to my face and groin, and my stomach was suddenly alive with butterflies.

He pulled away, and I almost begged him for more. I drifted into a state of lethargic bliss while he snorted one more bag of cocaine.

"Now you're in my debt, and you gotta do something for me,"

I gulped at this. He might want me to do something really bad. My mind began to race as I thought about what he might have me do.

He began that all-to familiar rubbing of his nose and sniffling.

"And one day-" He stopped all of a sudden. His face became pale. His eyes widened. "And one day-" he began to blink rapidly like before. He started coughing, and then shaking. He spat some blood onto the ground, and then wiped his mouth, staring at it.

"And I think I need to use up that favor now, kid," Then he fell to the floor in a fit of convulsions.