The Last Five Minutes
By: ShinigamiForever
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Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me, as much as I would love for it to. However, Hutai Young (the past life of Heero Yui), his company Wing Productions, and Deshita Murray (the past life of Duo Maxwell) do. Why anyone would want to take them is beyond me, but don't.
Warnings: Some shounen-ai, OOC on the part of Duo and Heero's past lives, and some slight angst.
Notes: As stated above, Deshita Murray is Duo's past life. Hutai Young is Heero's. Hutai is the owner of the company Wing Productions which is a huge business focused around electronics and robotics. The past lives were probably around our current century, not in AC timeline. Wah, I suck so much at writing! Enjoy and on with the story! Read and review!
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He took a deep breath, then let it out as he stared at the huge window stretched out behind his desk. His hands were flattened against the window sill, face reflected with millions of city lights dotted across his skin. The office was dark, pitch black except for the faint light of the city night that streamed in through the window.
Hutai Young pressed his forehead against the glass, letting the colder night air cool down his skin and relax him slightly. His breath left a fog against the clear pane. For a moment he stayed that way, resting himself.
A faint click of a gun switching off from safety quickly awoke him. He started to turn around before a voice spoke from behind him, keeping him from completing his action.
"Freeze." Hutai smiled, a drop of cold sweat sliding down his temple. The voice was male, warm and smooth, confident without the slightest doubt of a tremor. He summoned his own courage and opened his lips.
"Or else?" His own voice came out just as calm, to his surprise.
"Or else nothing. I blow your brains without explaining why first."
"Ah." Hutai stood stock still, looking in the window's faint reflection for a glimpse of the intruder. Half a minute passed by before the other young man spoke again.
"Now turn around slowly."
"With my hands on my head?" Hutai asked with a tone of sarcasm.
"If you like," the voice drawled.
The Japanese youth turned around slowly, although not with his hands on his head. Alert dark blue eyes searched the black room for a sign of the stranger and found him standing in an even darker corner of the room.
The assassin wore completely black leather, from the high-necked, skin tight shirt to his thin boots and gloves. A black combat belt, loaded with little items and a gun holder, hung heavily on his waist. His hair was a rich brown that flowed to mid-back and was bunched in a loose ponytail, strands everywhere. His eyes were shaded with extraordinarily long bangs, but when he lifted his head, they glowed a bright violet. His hand held a gun as black as the owner's clothes and the entire appearance of the young man blended perfectly with the dark room.
Hutai, on the other hand, was donned in a white, pressed shirt with a greenish-blue tie. His pants were a dark gray, and he wore thin glasses with a thin black frame. His hair was a darker brown, neatly combed and cut. His shoes were sharp and made with an expensive brown leather. He wore a silver watch with heavy links. All in all, Mr. Young held the appearance of a proper business man.
"So. What is my crime?" the darker-haired man asked with an indescribable smile of humor.
"You, Hutai Young, owner and president of Wing Productions, discovered a dangerous secret about another company's products, and any leakage of that information will damage the reputation of my clients. Therefore, since you are the only one who possesses that power, you must be removed," the other man answered, grinning darkly. Another silence passed before Hutai spoke up again.
"Clients?"
"I'm a hired assassin. I work for whoever pays me. But then again, most assassins are paid." The stranger smiled again, stepping a little closer to the desk which Hutai stood next to.
"I assume that it would be futile for me to bribe you." The company owner raised a hand to push up his glasses.
"I signed a contract," answered the assassin by means of explanation. "And I plan on keeping the name of Deshita Murray one that is reliable and, I suppose, honorable."
"You consider this honorable?" Another smile drew back the lips of the target.
"Don't laugh. It might be your downfall."
"Ah, but you're planning on killing me anyway. Are you not?"
"Of course I am." Deshita lowered his gun and brushed a strand of hair away. "But I'll give you another five minutes to live."
Hutai raised an eyebrow. "I venture to ask why."
"I find you interesting," the assassin chuckled, placing the gun in his holder.
"You aren't afraid I'll try to escape?"
"I'll take that risk." Deshita gave a charming smile to the young man opposite him, who returned it with a disarming smile of his own.
Another minute of silence ensued.
"Do you have any family?" Hutai asked suddenly. Deshita gave a start, then eyed his target with narrow eyes. The Japanese company owner kept a blank face. The assassin shrugged nonchalantly.
"Me. Myself. The dark. My skill. Death." The brown haired young man then flashed a mischievous smile, adding, "All of humanity." Another pause. "And you?"
The other looked thoughtful. "I think I have a few, but to me, they're all strangers. They don't care what happens to me. Just what I do for the company and the good of the family, stuff like that. I'm basically alone in the world." Deshita twirled a strand of hair around his finger, thinking.
"I guess we're alike in more ways then one."
"And what might be the other one?"
"We're both male."
Hutai laughed softly. The smile soon disappeared as he asked another question. "Do you love anyone?"
"Other than myself?"
"I assumed that was what the question implied. Well?"
"No."
"Really. That's too bad."
Deshita scrutinized the blue-eyed young man again, stepping closer to the desk where he stood. "After all, who wants a self-proclaimed Shinigami?" he asked wistfully. There was another pause of silence.
"I might." The whispered answer was said so softly that the other had to strain to catch it. Another moment of silence as the two men stared at each other before Hutai cleared his throat.
"Do you enjoy your job?"
The assassin snapped up as if awaken from a reverie, then blinked at his target. "Huh?"
Hutai hid a smile, then repeated his question.
"I suppose, as much as going around and killing people can be enjoyed. I suppose it's rather fun, getting high on danger, so I should probably say yes. Why? Don't you?"
The Japanese shook his head dismally, looking at the surface of his desk.
"Must be nice, doing what you can enjoy."
Deshita cocked his head, staring at the young man opposite him quizzically. "You don't get a choice?"
A bitter and harsh laugh answered his question.
"Oh." A pause. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault." Pause. "Actually, I should probably be thanking you. Within a few days, I should be married to a girl who my family arranged for me. She's another head of another company, and supposedly, joining will make our two companies greater. She's nice and all, but not really one that I would choose to marry." Hutai said, lips pulled back in a sardonic smile. The assassin opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head in a sorrowful manner.
"Too bad."
"Yeah, it is."
There was yet another moment of silence. Hutai glanced sharply at wristwatch, then raised his head to meet the intense stare of the assassin. "It's been 3 minutes."
"I know," came the whispered reply.
They stared at each other for a while, a hired assassin and a business man. The two reflected quietly, no one saying anything. There was something strange and uncanny about their calmness, resignation on Hutai's part, and indifference, or practiced aloofness, on Deshita's part. The streetlights and lights from buildings dotted the window behind the Japanese's back, marring the office area that the two men stood in with little specks of dim light that flecked across the darkness.
"I'm sorry…" Deshita murmured, face struck with a sudden sense of remorse. Hutai smiled apologetically in return, bowing his head down so he looked at the desk.
"You've already said that."
"I mean it."
"Do you." The assassin stood, stunned with that question that was said in a tone of a statement. His hand fluttered up to a loose strand of hair and he remained silent.
"I'm sorry too."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
Another awkward moment of silence.
" 4 minutes," The Japanese said as he smiled ruefully, turning around for one last time to look at the night and the city he had lived in. There was a dull throbbing of regret, perhaps, a slow yet evident tattoo of longing, but he was confused at what it was for. He hadn't accomplished many things in his life, and it was a fitting end. His death would be one of the few things he would be popular for, and like the other events he received publicity on, it would fade quickly.
"In another life, maybe, we could have been lovers."
Deshita looked at his watch as the other's life ticked away. Was it that he was strangely drawn to this one quarry? He raised his eyes slowly, sliding their gaze down first the hair, then the back, and lastly the legs of his target.
"In another life, we are," he answered in the same quiet whisper the other young man had used.
"Well. To that other life, then, Deshita." The name trembled strangely over his lips, relishing the sound. Deshita smiled regretfully, hands once again aiming the black handgun.
"To that other life."
A single shot fell out as Hutai turned around for once last second to smile, almost joyfully, at his assassin. The bullet pierced his chest, and he fell, crumpled, still wearing a smile. There were a few minutes of silence.
It was amazing to the remaining man how the streetlights outside could still lay in that dotted pattern outside, beyond the window. The earth did not stop spinning, and it surprised him that no sudden flash of lightening had struck them both dead. But he knew with fearful certainty that the body still lay behind the desk, spirit long flown off somewhere.
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before making his way over.
The body of Hutai Young lay in a heap, faced down on the carpet. Already the blood had stained its surroundings a deep red, a brilliant dark purple in the dim light. It seemed even in his death, Hutai would be surrounded by an aura of encasement, his head and back hunched up about him.
He reached out, turning the body over to face him. The eyes still burned a fearful gleaming Prussian blue, but in their death, they seemed empty, driven on the point of insanity. A trembling white hand crept up to softly press the eyelids shut.
Within a few seconds, the assassin left, taking with him simply the last words of Hutai Young.
The crumpled body behind the desk was turned over, smiling blankly with closed eyes at the window, still dotted with lights.
"In another life, maybe, we could have been lovers."
"In another life, we are.
"Well. To that other life, then, Deshita."
"To that other life."
~~ Owari ~~
A/N: Yeah, screwed. Anyway, review and tell me what you think!