“I just don’t understand it,” Haruka announced, turning his gaze towards Kantarou.  The white-haired man sat thoughtfully by the paper doors, looking out onto the garden.  There was no response, and a few moments passed in weary silence before he turned half-closed eyes towards the tengu.

  “Hm?”  Despite the dim light of the room, Haruka could see Kantarou was smiling somberly at him.  Haruka didn’t like it.

  “Ever since that Suzuki woman and her brother left you’ve been sitting there with that stupid look plastered on your face.”  He frowned moodily, not quite sure why this was annoying him so much.  Haruka saw Kantarou’s smile falter momentarily before his master turned away again. 

  “It’s rare for you to say something like that,” Kantarou said thoughtfully.  “You sound worried.”

  “I’m not worried,” Haruka stated.  Kantarou made no reply, just continued staring blankly out into the darkness, listening to the endless rain.  Haruka fidgeted uncomfortably; the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts and uncertainty.  He had never realized how used to Kantarou’s inane chatter he had become until it was no longer there, leaving them with nothing but cool night air between them.  Haruka could not stand it anymore.

  “It’s late now.  Youko went to bed hours ago.”  Kantarou nodded but still said nothing.  There was more silence.  A light breeze blew into the room, causing Kantarou’s silver-white hair to be blown back.  Haruka watched it drowsily, sleep threatening to overtake him, and heard Kantarou sigh heavily.  But there was only so much of this Haruka could take, and he refused to sleep until he had made his opinion clear to the human.  Ever since Kantarou had taken this job, there had been nothing but trouble.  And Kantarou was a mess.  Even if the man wouldn’t admit it to himself, Haruka saw it, and he was sure Youko did too.  All through dinner she had been watching every bite Kantarou took.  He was sure there would have been an argument if he hadn’t eaten every single mouthful.  Kantarou must have known it too.  But then, Youko’s frowns and angry glares were not exactly subtle.  It was amazing, Haruka thought, how such a lazy, trouble-inspiring, annoying, manipulative human could inspire such loyalty from a youkai.  And she was not the only one. 

  Kantarou yawned widely then laid his head against the side of the door.  It didn’t seem like he had any intention of moving.  Haruka should have left him alone right then to wallow in whatever it was he was wallowing in.  He should have not cared whether his stupid master made himself sick again.  But Youko had only gone to bed because Haruka had told her he would stay up and keep an eye on Kantarou.  And, just like back at that house, he couldn’t leave him alone. 

  “What is wrong with you?” Haruka asked.  Kantarou jumped at the sudden question, and turned fully towards the tengu. 

  “Nothing is wrong, Haruka,” he replied.  And there was that smile again.

  “Liar.”  Haruka crossed his arms and glared at his master.  If anything, Kantarou’s smile actually grew.  He laughed softly.

  “I suppose you’re right.  But it doesn’t matter…”

  “You’re not going to die,” Haruka interrupted.  Kantarou sighed again and shook his head slowly. 

  “Haruka,” he began, wringing his hands nervously in his lap.  “I don’t know what to think about that, but I know that...something is going to happen.”  He paused and looked the tengu in the eye, trying to gauge his response.  But Haruka was giving nothing away, just continued to stare blankly at him.  All night he had been thinking; what to say, what to do, with the dream hanging over him like a dark cloud.  He was sure that whatever else might happen, he did not want to die with regret.  So Kantarou pressed on, somehow convinced that if he didn’t say this now he never would.  “When I woke up from that dream, I could only think of finding you.  I thought it was because I would feel safer with you, and I suppose that’s true, but the truth is…”  Kantarou paused again, certain now that he was about to make a complete fool of himself.  “The truth is that I just wanted to spend whatever time I had left with you…”  Haruka almost growled in irritation.

  “How many times must I say it, Kantarou?  You are not going to die.”  Kantarou shook his head again, getting the feeling that Haruka was missing the point.  

  “That’s not exactly true, Haruka,” he said.  Kantarou sat thinking for a moment; the conversation was too vague.  The one thing Kantarou wanted now was to know that Haruka cared about him.  Not because he was his master, and the end of his life would mean the end of Haruka’s, but because he was Ichinomiya Kantarou.  Because Haruka liked who Ichinomiya Kantarou was.  It was somewhat perverse, Kantarou thought, that he should be so obsessed with this one thing when he was facing mortal peril.  But really, it made perfect sense.  Most of his life he had wanted to meet Haruka.  And at the end of it, he wanted to know he had made an impression. 

“In any case,” he said finally, miserably.  “I have to go back to that house.”  Haruka sat dumbfounded, unable to believe Kantarou could be so stupid.  “I have to.  It’s not like I want to, but I have to do something.”

  “I can’t believe you…” Haruka managed to say.

  “Nothing can be settled unless I try and talk to her.”

  “You promised Youko you wouldn’t go back there,” Haruka argued.

  “I didn’t promise her anything.  I said I’d do my best, and I’ve been thinking…”

  “When you think it only leads to trouble.”  Haruka was becoming increasingly irritated by Kantarou’s continued obstinacy.  Kantarou stood up and glared at Haruka, folding his arms defensively, irritated at the way the conversation was going.

  “I tell you that and that’s all you can say?”  He went on more quietly; “I can’t just sit around and leave that girl’s soul like that.”

  “Why do you always care so much?  She only wants to kill you!”

  “I don’t think she does.  And I know if I can talk to her I can…”  Haruka threw his arms up in agitation.

  “You can what?  Make her stop?  It’s not just her, Kantarou!  She’s part of a demon that’s been killing humans for decades.  You think you can stop that?”  Haruka was aware his voice was low and threatening now, but he didn’t think there was any other way to make Kantarou listen.  To his mind, the human had a bad habit of not listening to sound advice.

  “I’m not going to hide, Haruka.  I can stop her!”  Kantarou argued, his voice trembling slightly in annoyance.  Haruka growled.

  “You can’t stop every demon you come across, Kantarou.”

  “I can!”

  “You couldn’t stop the one that gave you that scar!”  A cold silence fell over the room and Haruka got the distinct impression he should not have said that.  Kantarou stared at him, his eyes indignant, angry and perhaps a little hurt.  Then he looked away and made for the closed door, concluding that his staying would only make matters worse.  And still he had no answer.  Without thinking, Haruka grabbed Kantarou’s arm as he strode past.  He met his furious red eyes.

  “I won’t let you die,” was all he could think to say.  Kantarou relaxed a little in his grasp, anger and frustration turning more to sadness and resignation.

  “I have to go,” he said, more quietly now.  Haruka turned so he was fully facing Kantarou and pulled his human master closer, aware of the affect he had on Kantarou more acutely than the way Youko had shown he affected women.

  “Don’t go.”  It was more like a question than an order or a request, but so sincere that Kantarou could do nothing but smile at Haruka.  It was so rare to see that glint of hardened resolve in his eyes, and Kantarou felt pleased that it was directed at him.  And the distance.  They were so close now that Kantarou could feel Haruka’s breath on his face.   

  “I must do something, Haruka.”  Kantarou laid his hand over the one still grasping his arm.  Then he threw Haruka a wide grin.  “But if you’re there then I’ll be safe, right?”  Haruka watched Kantarou’s face for a moment; his eyes looking confidently up at him, the anger and sadness now gone.  Kantarou looked at him with such complete trust.

  “What’s wrong Haruka?” he asked, his features turning curious, uncertain.  He must have noticed, Haruka thought, how close they were.  And even though Haruka was grasping his arm so tightly it must hurt, Kantarou made no complaint.  Kantarou took his hand from Haruka’s and laid it on the tengu’s other arm.  It was oddly exhilarating, this power he had over his own master.  But it was more than that too; possessiveness, fear, irritation and a kind of need all from just taking Kantarou’s arm. 

  “Haruka?” Kantarou asked again.  Then Haruka’s lips were on Kantarou’s, just for a moment, before he realized what he was doing and pulled back.  Kantarou’s eyes were wide with surprise and his cheeks burned red, but there was no fear there.  Instead, he gripped Haruka’s arm gently and pulled him back into another brief kiss, like a question asking if this was all real.

  “This is why…?” Kantarou breathed.  Haruka released his hold on Kantarou and moved his hand to brush away the hair falling over Kantarou’s face. 

  “Mm,” he replied non-committally, and let his hand fall to hold the back of Kantarou’s neck.  He was so human, Haruka thought.  Frail and uncertain.  No youkai should get involved with them.  They were cruel and meaningless creatures.  Only Kantarou wasn’t, and Haruka had learned long ago that it was useless to ignore their kind.  He leaned in closer and spoke into Kantarou’s ear.

  “Don’t go,” he repeated.  Like this, Haruka thought, Kantarou would listen to him. And like this, he would not lose him.  Tentatively, Kantarou raised his arms to grasp Haruka’s shoulders.

  “I can’t sit and do nothing, Haruka,” he said softly.

  “I’ll go.”  Haruka put his free arm around Kantarou’s waist.

  “It would be better with both of us,” Kantarou suggested, laying his head on Haruka’s shoulder so that his face pressed gently against the tengu’s neck.

  “I’m strong.  It’ll be fine.  I won’t kill her.”  The feel of Kantarou’s mouth against his skin made Haruka’s heart beat wildly and want nothing more than to draw the human even closer.

  “You promise?” Kantarou asked, aware of the quickened pace of his own breath and of Haruka’s heart, its sound pulsing from his long neck.  If it was assurance that Haruka felt at least something for him he sought, then Kantarou had certainly had it.

  “If you don’t believe me, you can order it,” Haruka said.  Haruka could feel Kantarou smile against his skin.

  “I don’t want to do that,” he said.  He raised his head from Haruka’s shoulder, then their mouths were together again, and even though Kantarou felt that he had lost the argument somehow, he knew he had won something far better.