Written under a time limit for PersonalChallenge! in my one-member Livejournal community, so I apologize for possible errors beforehand. Also, forgive my alliteration. You can slap me on the wrist when you review.
The Immurement Immortal
by Lanie Kay-Aleese
When Kantarou's hand slipped and the tea cup broke, Haruka waited for his master's cue before responding.
It was one of those things about Kantarou that Haruka didn't understand. Or maybe it was one of those things about humans that Haruka couldn't understand. The fact of the matter was, he could no longer predict which of several scenarious Kantarou would act out for something so simple as chipping a meaningless, old, dirty piece of glass.
Later, he would think on it and grow frustrated, sitting on the edge of the roof and wondering - fruitlessly - why demons and humans had to be so different. And certainly, Kantarou was different in all senses. He looked like an old man and a young man and had ancient, possessed eyes, but he was a man, and said as much when he found himself trapped by the impermeability of life.
Or immured by the sandy texture where a tea cup's glaze had chipped.
"It was more fragile than I realized," Kantarou said to himself, then lifted his eyes to his slave. He was neither wailing (as usual) nor making light of the issue (as it might have seemed if one didn't know better). Haruka had lived with him for long enough to know better. Still, he affected his air of bored detachment even though his master's tone had changed.
Kantarou was not deterred, but neither did he pose his next comment directly to the demon. Instead it was to the broken edge of the cup that rested in the fold of his hands.
"Hey, Haruka," he asked, as soft as the wind and with an undercurrent as powerful, "I'll probably die."
"What?"
Kantarou's eyes darkened as he closed in on Haruka's attention.
"I know you'll protect me, Haruka - no matter what - so I'll never get killed. Still, I'm mortal. So there's only two things for me: be killed or die. And recently I've started to wonder if it's better to be killed, or... to grow old and just... chip away?"
Haruka bristled.
"'Chip away'?" he repeated, the words unpleasant and thick as sawdust on his tongue, "You're not a dusty old tea cup, you idiot. Don't talk like that!"
Kantarou said nothing. A growl rose in Haruka's throat. In three strides he moved forward enough to steal Kantarou's hands away from the teacup and its' shelf.
He clenched his teeth and for a moment, his incisors flashed behind his curled lip. "Are you listening?! You can't leave me without a name. You're not going to leave at all. And you're not going to chip away. I won't let you die, so stop talking like that!"
"Haru... ka," Kantarou smiled wanly, and to Haruka it was hopelesness, but who knew? He was human.
And the weight of that suddenly cracked the tomb inside of Haruka's chest. He was sure that it wasn't guilt, because lying had never made him feel that way before. But living with a human made everything unpredictable. Made everything dangerous and claustrophobic.
Haruka's voice shook now.
"I won't let you die," he repeated.
"Okay," Kantarou whispered, and stared at their trapped hands.