He curled a fist around my arousal.

"Wait, don't-" He moved his hand upward, and I froze. I was torn between the fear of letting this get out of control, and the curiosity of what he intended to do.

"Stop?" He asked, though he did not stop moving his hand up and down. A funny little glint was in his eye; something that fascinated as well as terrified me.

"I…" I couldn't decide what I wanted at that moment.

He stroked all the way from base to tip. "If you want to stop, I will."

I didn't respond, overwhelmed with too many feelings to count.

"If you're scared, I'll stop."

I was scared, but I moaned in spite of myself, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I'd never made a noise like that before, and it excited and confused me all at the same time.

This encouraged him to keep going.

He began moving up and down faster and faster until I knew I was going to come. I clenched my jaw, and then my brain exploded with intense euphoria, my body shaking.

He withdrew, and sat back on his haunches. "You're quick," He said with an impish grin.

I was panting, my body overcome with waves of pleasure. I was too distracted to even care that he was making fun of me.

"Not too many orgasms, huh?" He asked, grabbing a tissue from the side table to clean me off.

I shook my head. I'd never had one up until then; not even by myself.

He whipped off my stomach and pulled my pants back up. Then he lay back beside me; subtly flicking his own erection, as if I wouldn't notice.

He realized that I was really relaxed, so he patted my belly with a small laugh. My parents used to do that when I was little. "Are you spent?"

I nodded slowly, and continued to stare at him, eyes half-closed and glossed over.

He was unlike anyone I knew. He seemed like the polar opposite to Da. Da never wanted to show any kind of affection to anyone, or to share any kind of personal information. Kage, on the other hand, was willing to share anything you ask; even the embarrassing, or painful things; and he was a touchy feely kind of guy. He also didn't seem to have a sense of what was socially appropriate; either that, or he didn't care.

His tail came to wrap around my own, and I let him do so. I'd never really used my tail for anything, besides grabbing things off the floor, or balancing in trees. Other than that, it was kind of just there. But the way he ran his own tail across mine gave me goose bumps.

He put his head down onto the pillow, as if he were 'spent' as well.

"I hate this place," He suddenly said.

"Capsule Corp?" I asked vaguely, mimicking the motions of his tail and enjoying the tingle that went up my spine.

"No," He responded. "This whole damned planet." He rolled over onto his back and put an arm behind his head. "We should run away together. We could take one of the space ships, and just leave."

I gave him a look. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I remember where all the trade routs are, and I know how to make money."

I shook my head. "I can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because. My parents would freak. They would go to the ends of the universe to find me, and they would drag me back here. I know they would."

He shook his head at me this time. "You're Da might not. If he's anything like the one from my time, he wants to get out of here just as much as I do. He asked me if I wanted to leave with him once." His eyes became glossy. "I talked him out of it. That was before I realized I loved him, though. If I'd known any better, I would have said yes, and he and I might have had a chance."

"Well… what happened? You know, why'd you kill him?"

He frowned; either because he was unsure himself, or the memory was difficult to retell. "I… I was fifteen, and it had been Rut Season. I begged him to sleep with me, but he wouldn't. He went to Goku instead. He kept telling me I was too young, that he'd hurt me, all this other crap that didn't make any sense. After Rut Season, I realized that I really, really liked him. I told him so, and he told me that it was just the aftereffects of Rut Season.

"About a month passed, and I couldn't stop thinking about him. So I went back to him and told him I was in love with him. He said there was no such thing as love, and even if there was, he was old enough to be my grandfather." He repositioned his arms behind his head. "I never understood why he kept telling me I was too young; I had had lovers twice his age before. So I figured it must be his way of saying he wasn't interested in me.

"I began drinking to try and deal with that. And then, at some point, I began to blame him for all the shit that had ever happened to me; as if it were entirely his fault some how. I was too young and out of my mind to think of anyone but myself." He took a shuttering breath, his eyes falling shut. "And then I began to get out of control. Every insecurity I'd ever had was suddenly out there for everyone to see, and I was scared that no one would be able to help me. That I would be like that for the rest of my life."

He opened his eyes, which were shinny with tears.

"So I waited until he hurt himself with the gravity machine. Until he was unconscious in one of those regeneration tanks. And I cut him. Slit his throat ear to ear. He didn't even know what I'd done until it was too late." He took another of those shuttering breaths. "And he looked at me… and I saw the confusion and the shock…and …and then he was dead," his voice broke, "And I was terrified. So I ran off, and went to a night club, and I drank myself into a coma. Then I started smoking pot…. And then started with heroine and cocaine… and now… I'm an addict." He began talking faster. "And I want to stop, I just want to end it all, but I can't. I'm stuck; and I'm afraid that if I stop, I'll die; and if I don't stop, I know I'll die."

His voice was a whisper by the time he was finished.

I stared at him for a long while. What did you say to someone who killed your father in another time? What do you tell them? What's the right thing to do? Forgive them?

I decided it was best to let the subject drop. He probably wouldn't remember tomorrow anyway. "Hey," I sat up onto my elbow. "It's my birthday."

He blinked at me slowly, and then his face broke into a sad, but genuine grin. "You're so cute." He ruffled my hair, his worries and cares seeming gone for the time being. He pulled me closer to him, and he smelled my hair again. "I love that smell," He muttered, before he fell asleep.

The next morning, I was awoken by wrenching. Kage was throwing up in the bathroom across the hall. His back was toward me, and he was doubled over.

I did a quick check to make sure we were still alone, and checked the driveway for a car, for extra precaution.

I quickly left the bedroom, passed underneath the camera, and slipped into the bathroom. I knelt beside him, running a hand down his back.

"Are you alright?"

"No," He cried, whipping his mouth. "My stomach feels like its being torn apart. My back's in a vice, and my knees keep locking. I can't do this anymore. I'm going to die if I don't have a drink,"

I glanced around the room as he began to vomit again. He didn't have anything in his stomach, so all that left his mouth was greenish bile.

He seemed to finish, and he lay himself down on the bathroom floor, curling his knees to his chest. He was shaking, like your muscles do when they're exhausted.

"Are you still in pain?" I asked, rubbing his back a little more.

"It comes in waves," He explained, "One minute I'm fine, the next I want to kill myself."

I nodded and began to message his back wordlessly.

This seemed to sooth him, for he relaxed considerably, his fists and toes unclenching.

"You alright now?"

He nodded and rolled over like a dog that wants its belly rubbed. His head fell to the side as I rubbed his stomach and chest for a while. My fingers brushed over a nipple, and he moaned exaggeratedly. He laughed at my expression and ruffled my hair.

When the 'wave' had passed, he seemed able to stand up. "Are you hungry?" He asked as I helped him back into the room, careful to stay out of view.

I shook my head. "Why, are you?"

"No," He admitted, "But you're still growing. You need to eat,"

"I'm fine." I insisted. I could stand to shed a few pounds anyway.

He didn't argue with me anymore, and just lay down.

"Hey, where are you supposed to be?" He suddenly asked me, out of the blue. "Won't your parents be worried?"

I shook my head. "They don't ever know or care where I am. But I'm supposed to be at Master Roshi's."

His eyebrows rose. "For Rut Season?"

"Yeah."

He nodded, "So then, won't Master Roshi be worried about you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Probably."

"Well, you don't need to stay here if you're supposed to be somewhere else. You can leave,"

"But I don't want to leave." I insisted.

He swallowed, the muscles of his jaws tightening. He stared at me for a long while. "I think you'd better go, Aizel," He whispered to me. "You don't want to…get into trouble… do you?"

I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "What if you get hurt while I'm gone?"

"How could I get hurt?" His gaze was unwavering.

"You said you wanted to kill yourself whenever those waves hit you,"

He seemed to consider this. "Alright, stay if you want." He paused, seeming lost in thought.

Last night, I had been hesitant to lay in bed with him. Now, I did so without a second thought. What a difference one night can make.

"Do you believe in love?" He asked, patting down his pockets as if looking for a cigarette, and then giving up.

I thought for a moment. "Well… I think there are different kinds of love. There's love you have for your family, which is there no matter what, and the love you have for other people that can…" I trailed off to think of the right word.

"Dwindle?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I paused. "Do you believe in love?"

He cleared his throat and was silent for a moment. "I think you're right about the degrees of love, but I also believe that there is a very thin line between love and obsession. Let's leave it at that."

I thought about this for a while, laying my head onto his chest. I could hear his heart. It was like a metronome; slow and deliberate. I liked it. It was like a wordless lullaby.

Before I knew it, I was sleep. I had that dream that a lot of people have; the one where you're falling. It was a bazaar feeling, to fall, especially for someone who could fly, and who'd never fallen in real life.

Something touched my head, and I jerked awake. Kage was running his fingers through my hair.

"Sorry," He muttered, but did not look down at me. His scarlet eyes were fixed before him at the wall, as if it were a TV or something.

"It's alright…" I watched him for a few moments. "Hey… this might be a dumb question but… Why are your eyes red? I mean, are you albino, or something?"

He blinked slowly, his eyes refocusing. I wondered for a moment if he'd heard me, but then he said, "It's a pigment deficiency, that's all. There's no brown in them."

"It's kind of cool,"

He nodded a thanks, "When I was little, people; especially old people; told me I was possessed by the God of the Underworld. That's how I got my name. Kagen is the God of Dead."

This sent chills down my spine. "You don't really believe that,"

"Course not. I don't believe in anything."

I let my gaze fall away from his. He was entirely too confusing for me. He talked in riddles that made no sense, but at the same time, made all the sense in the world. "In your time, where did you grow up?"

He shrugged beneath me. "Here and there. Mostly on a cargo ship with that guy I told you about before. It wasn't much of a childhood; nothing like what you have here."

"What do you mean?" I probably shouldn't have asked, but I had a feeling the answer was important. That it would tell me… something… about him.

He waved his arm, motioning around the room but meaning life in general. "You have a family. You have friends. You have a place to sleep, food to eat. You go to school. You can wake up tomorrow, and know that everything will be exactly the same as it was today. You have stability. You have certainties."

These didn't sound like very glamorous things, but he seemed to think so. "But you have-"

"What? What do I have? Drugs? An addiction?" He scoffed and sat up, pushing me off him more forcefully than necessary. "Go home. Or to your island, or wherever you're supposed to be. I'm going for a drink."

I got up to follow him. "But you said you wanted to be sober,"

"Well, like K-Mart, sobriety sucks."