Title: Tainted Gold

By: Aina Song

Fandom(s): Gundam Wing/Gravitation

Genre: Yaoi

Rating: NC-17

Warning(s): Language; Angst; Saap; Song Lyrics; Rumored Death; Slight OOC.

Pairing(s): To be revealed as story develops. (Trust me, you'll appreciate it better that way.)

Reviews: Yes, please.

Author's Note: Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money.

Teaser: The pain of broken promises is not so easily mended…

Chapter Two - Winner

After another week or two, young Eiri's mentality had stabilized enough for him to be allowed to leave the hospital. Up until that point, Touma had kept the police and their questions at bay. It was a great feat that he still managed to keep the press clueless to the situation as well. But now, the authorities were insisting upon a statement.

When the police knocked upon Eiri's door, Touma and Mika were already there, one sitting upon her brother's mattress, the other quietly waiting in a chair. One of Touma's lawyers stood behind his shoulder - for he was nothing if not cautious.

Eiri's doctor was there as well, overseeing it all, and it was he that opened the door. It was a lieutenant, who introduced himself as McCoy and shook hands with the doctor, Touma, and even Touma's lawyer. "I certainly hope now's an appropriate time…"

"This may very well be the only chance you have, Lieutenant," Touma quietly agreed. "Thus, I'd choose my questions with every caution."

The man's eyes widened at the veiled threat, but the doctor was quick to step in. "Though Mister Uesugi's mental stability seems to be recovering, we'd appreciate avoiding any circumstance which might retard his progress."

McCoy's gaze shifted from the doctor, to Touma's lawyer, to the dark look hidden in Touma's eyes, and then back again. He nodded that he understood. "Mister Uesugi," he carefully greeted, bringing a small notepad and pen from his pocket. "Do you know why I've come to you today?"

There was a moment of silence, during which nearly everyone began to believe he would not be answered. But then Eiri lifted his stark yellow gaze upon the balding man in uniform and spoke in a very quiet and solemn voice.

"Yes."

"I know a great deal of this might be difficult for you, young man. But anything you can give me will be of great help."

"I can't."

The lieutenant quirked his brow, "You can't?"

"I'm afraid it's true," the doctor informed. "We believe that Mister Uesugi's subconscious could be suppressing some of the finer details of what has happened. A handful of initial tests confirm this."

McCoy looked somewhat indecisive for a second, but then nodded again. "I'm sorry to hear that, young man. I didn't realize it was so serious." He sighed, "But I do require a statement. If you can, Mister Uesugi, would you please share anything you might remember? I regret to say that I can't provide you with a solid plea of self-defense, otherwise."

Eiri lowered his gaze to his hands folded atop his lap. The room grew very still while, slowly, the teenage blond recalled everything he could. Visiting Yuki Kitazawa within his apartment… The half-empty bottle of red wine which had knocked over… The two other men who'd appeared and had spoken in a fast English that had been difficult for Eiri to follow…

Every face waited expectantly, but after a brief pause Eiri shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Can you remember nothing else," Mika gently wondered.

The young teen's gaze never lifted from his hands. "I remember… One of them had a gun tucked into the front of his jeans. I could see its grip."

"And then," Lieutenant McCoy softly prompted.

Eiri shook his head once more, "Mister Seguchi was there, holding me and telling me I didn't do anything wrong."

From the other side of the bed, Touma stared at the younger blond. Up until the critical moment, it seemed Eiri had no trouble recalling that day. But that he had jumped from a last second of fearful clarity to Touma's belated rescue…

McCoy spoke again, and Touma realized he was expected to answer. Blinking quickly to clear his head, he asked, "Pardon?"

The man repeated himself. "How was it that you arrived when you did?"

"After learning of my misjudgment toward Kitazawa's credibility, my reaction was purely instinctive. Eiri Uesugi is a younger brother of my fiancée, Miss Mika Uesugi. And as such, I am extremely protective of the both of them."

Lieutenant McCoy seemed taken aback by this revelation. "If I may, sir, you don't look much older than Mister Uesugi."

"How dare you-!" Mika started.

But Touma quickly cut her off, his calm voice belying the hardened look in his aqua-blue eyes. "My misfortune is that I only appear so young. In truth, I am seven years older than Eiri, and merely one year younger than Mika." He stood, pulling his drivers' license and green card out of his wallet and holding them up as proof. After the lieutenant nodded in apology, he replaced them within his pocket but did not yet sit back down. "I am from a family which thrived on careful, successful, businesses. When I brought Eiri into New York with me to continue his studies, I tried to find him the very best tutor available. Therefore, I am entirely at fault for not having checked more deeply into Mister Kitazawa's records."

Behind him, his lawyer finally spoke up. "Mister Seguchi… you don't truly believe you might have seen this coming in time to prevent it, do you?"

Touma stepped away, giving the room his back as he gazed out through the window. His hand fisted at his side, before he recalled himself and let his fingers fall loose once more. He took a breath, "I have at my call a classified number of informants. At the time, I had only asked a routine check on Kitazawa. Yet something seemed amiss. As I had no concrete evidence, I tried to let my uneasiness go. But then Eiri began speaking of how close they were getting-"

"I didn't know!"

Closing his eyes, lowering his head, Touma answered, "And you did nothing wrong. Remember that." Returning his attention to the window, he continued. "One of my informants picked up on my discomfort and went ahead with a more thorough background check. The moment I read page one of his report, I raced out of the front door of my home and tried to get to Eiri first."

"And what were the contents of that report?" McCoy asked.

Sighing, Touma turned to his lawyer with a slight nod. While the man solemnly retrieved a manila envelope from his briefcase, the blond waved a hand to his future wife. Mika understood immediately, quickly taking young Eiri into her embrace and turning the both of them away.

Not three seconds later, McCoy and the doctor were staring at the contents of the envelope in disgust. But before either could say anything, Touma swiftly cleared his throat in warning. With a telling glance toward those who would become his family, he very softly commented, "I would very much appreciate that you not speak aloud of what you have seen."

They took the hint. Silently, the lieutenant replaced the files into their envelope, and Touma's lawyer returned them to his briefcase. Only then did Touma softly call to Mika that it was safe again for them to rejoin the conversation.

McCoy slapped his notepad shut and stuck it back into his pocket. "I think I've heard enough. I'm very sorry, for all of you, but I thank you for your time. I promise to see what I can do to keep Mister Uesugi's name untarnished."

Touma let the man shake his hand, and waited until the doctor escorted his lawyer and McCoy out of the room. Behind him, he heard Mika heave a great sigh. "I will be so glad when all of this is over…"

"As will I," he assured as he returned to his chair.

"T-Touma?"

As the boy so rarely addressed him by his first name, it was always quite affective whenever it did happen. "Yes, Eiri?"

The younger blond finally looked up, pain lacing his stark yellow eyes. "When may we return home to Japan?"

Touma caught Mika's worried glance, and he offered a small smile to comfort the both of them. "Soon. I promise you, I will not allow this to stretch on longer than absolutely necessary."

~o~

Careful hands caressed a well-polished antique violin, then lifted it for a closer look. A voice softly sang under its breath in a heady tenor well beyond its natural bass tone.

"What is that you're humming?" The other wondered distractedly.

"I dunno," the first answered truthfully, still examining the instrument in his hands. "Can't think of the words for it yet. This the same Paganini replica you had back when we first met?"

"Unfortunately, no. That one was lost, before the wars ended. Are you telling me you're making that up as you go? It sounds quite unique."

"Wait 'til you hear the completed rendition," the first smirked. He set the violin down again, coming across the floor to sit upon the edge of the other's desk. "What'cha doin'?"

The other looked up with the hint of a smile, "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I really wanna know."

"I'm looking over the final figures of the year, so that everything will be in order by January."

The first made a face, "Ew."

"What?"

"Boring."

Chuckling, the other set aside the files he had been looking through, giving his undivided attention. "Very well, I'll take the rest of the afternoon off."

The first stared, "Seriously?"

"Of course."

"But the company-"

"Can manage without me for a handful of hours. Especially when I have more pressing matters to tend to." He smiled, "Now. What would you like to do together?"

The grin that spread across the first's face was already making his decision worthwhile. "Get your jet ready. I heard about this amusement park in Japan. They call it 'Odaiba', supposed to be really great…"

~o~

He shot up in his bed, heart beating erratically. He swallowed a large gasp of air, willing his breath to slow down again. His spine shivering, he lifted an unsteady hand to pass its fingers through sweat-dampened strands of pale gold. Swearing, he threw himself back down upon the mattress and pillows, casting an arm over his eyes. And he did not bother to halt the burning tears that left their scalding paths down the sides of his face.

"Duo…"

~o~

(one year later…)

Touma muttered a foul profanity as he entered his very large apartment, slamming a folder down upon his coffee table. Inside were numerous pages of sheet music, every one of them filled with the songs he had tirelessly devoted one at a time. Once again, he had met with some music recording company or other - he had long ceased trying to remember their names - and once again, his music had been shot down.

"Your instruments of choice are highly unpopular," they had said. "Your style is simply far too slow and depressing."

Right about now, he would very much like to strangle them by their overly expensive silk neckties.

"Knock, knock."

He spun on his heel, finding with much surprise a young woman standing in his doorway, remembering too late that he had left the door itself open. Her curly hair was an unusual platinum-purple and fell just below her shoulders. She wore a white baby tee with a slash of red falling diagonally across the front, and red denim jeans which bore a thick strip of black across one knee and a hole in the other. She was barefoot, her toe nails painted the same color as her hair.

"Hi, there!" She greeted cheerily, her dark eyes sparkling. "My husband and I just moved in across the hall. I saw you come in, and I thought I'd welcome myself to the building. My name's Noriko Ukai."

"Touma Seguchi," he answered politely. "Forgive me, but I'm not exactly in the mood to entertain guests at the moment."

She pouted playfully, not at all deterred. "Bad day?"

"An understatement. But, yes."

"Mind if I ask what went wrong?"

"Corporate narrow-mindedness," he revealed with bored disgust. Sighing, he motioned with his hand, "Come on in, then. I'd like to shut that door eventually, and it would be rude to do so with you standing right there."

With a pretty little giggle, she closed the door behind her and came further into the apartment's sitting room, which often doubled as his office. She took in his classic furniture, his stereo center; she gave a curious cock of her head at the violin in its glass case, hanging securely upon the wall. And then she was marveling at the black grand piano standing to one corner of the room, fingers brushing lightly over the keys. "Do you play?"

Modesty recalled that it would be rude to brag, and so he admitted only, "A little."

But it seemed she was able to read between the lines. "You're that good, huh? Me too."

Touma blinked, "You play the piano?"

"I know I don't look it," Noriko laughed, motioning toward her own outfit. She sat down upon the small leather bench. "I prefer the electric keyboard and synthesizer, actually. So many more options, that way." Looking up, she added, "That's why I convinced my husband to move here. All those record companies; there's just got to be someone out there that'll appreciate real talent."

"Good luck," he scoffed, sitting down next to her. "I've been in this city for eighteen months, and they've yet to take notice of me."

"Is that what happened today?"

Nodding, he turned and pointed toward the fated portfolio atop his coffee table. "See that? They rejected every one of those songs."

"Oh, wow. You do lyrics?" When he nodded again, she bit her lip thoughtfully. "I focus on the music. Feel like experimenting on some collaboration?"

"Fire away."

She stared, "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

Smiling, Touma shook his head. "Go ahead, if you dare. Have at it."

Noriko quirked a slim purple eyebrow - either it was all natural, or she was extremely devoted to the dye job - then she slid away from the bench and stepped over to the table. Settling upon her knees to the floor, she opened the file. It took only three seconds for her to let out a surprised giggle. "I wondered why you agreed so casually. Every page is copyrighted!"

"Tagged," he corrected with an easy smile. "As works in progress, I need to be able to update them regularly. They are each protected with a code that only the Copyright Offices and I know, so that no other may legally pass off an altered version as their own."

"Wow," she breathed. "You sound like you'd thought of everything."

"Everything but how to get those asses to listen to me…"

"Okay, then." Noriko cracked her knuckles in a dramatic manner, "Let's see what we can throw together."

Over the next few months, Touma found a lively companion in Noriko Ukai. She was spunky, witty, and very knowledgeable with her music. She also proved a wonderful conversationalist. Her accounting of how she had met her new husband provided a very interesting afternoon. And when Touma had at last gotten around to confessing the ruse he had devised for Mika Uesugi's sake, it had seemed only natural to invite her along to the "wedding", once it had finally taken place.

Their collaboration had evolved from experimental to concrete. They decided together that they were determined to shove those corporates' stuffed shirts where the sun would never shine. But with her wit, and his sharp ear for good rhythm, it did not take long for them to realize that something was still missing.

"Do you sing?" Mika asked one afternoon.

Touma shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. "I once had a lover who'd told me my face is that of an angel, which made it such a painful disappointment that my voice can sound like a cat screeching atop a fence."

"I'll take that as a 'no'," she laughed. She did not bother to mention that it had been the very first time he had ever spoken of a past lover, by now suspecting that the past was just where he wanted to leave such information. "I'm only tolerable myself. Probably best for back-up. And two can be hell to pass off as a group. I hate to say it, Touma, but we're going to need to bring in another member."

"I'm not about to argue, so long as we're careful about it." He was currently pacing his living room floor, barely noticing anymore that his coffee table, sofa, and piano were littered with sheet music. "But we're in Japan, in a city thriving on pop culture. The difficulty will come in finding someone with the right voice for our style of music."

"Style?"

He let a small smile curl across his mouth. "Once we determine what that is, I mean."

"Here's an idea. Why don't you get your people to find someone?"

"My 'people', as you so cunningly put it, are all employed by me as informants for the utmost serious assignments."

"Well, I hereby declare our situation serious to the utmost," she giggled. "If they're as good as you say, we shouldn't have anything to worry about."

~o~

He stood outside their front door, having returned from another long day at the office. His hand hovered over the doorknob, yet he did not go in, his mouth tugging in a fond smile. His lover was singing again, just loud enough to be heard through the door. He listened awhile, finding himself pressing his ear closer to the wood of the door whenever his lover would cut off for a long moment before starting anew.

Feeling he'd eavesdropped long enough, he finally pushed the door open and let himself into their home. "What are you doing?"

The other rolled to his stomach on their sitting room floor, giving the first a happy grin as he waved a sheet of paper over his head. "Hey, Q! Look at this, I think I did it."

"Did what?" He asked, setting his briefcase aside and lowering himself down to the floor beside the other, never minding the wrinkles he was undoubtedly pressing into his finely-tailored suit. When his lover set the paper down between them, his eyes grew amused as they read the handwritten lines. "'It crumbles apart/ You've been reborn/ Your eyes light up without a smile. Even if the world you want suddenly turns to ashes/ There will be miracles…'" He looked up, staring at his lover, "Where did you come up with these?"

"No frickin' clue," the other smirked. "You know that song I've been fiddlin' with for so long?"

"I can't get it out of my head," he smiled. "It seems as though you're tinkering with it every time I turn around."

"Take me as I am, or move on," his lover lightly punched his shoulder. "It's your fault, you know."

That surprised another soft chuckle, "Is it? How's that?"

"Damn song's been stuck in my head, ever since you voiced an interest in movin' to Japan."

"Japan?" His smile grew fond, and he pulled his lover against him as he rolled to his back, tugging the other along until his lover was sprawled atop his chest. "Is our life together so monotonous, you need to imagine another one for us at the same time?"

"Hell, no," the other laughed. "I wouldn't give this up for anything!"

He let his lover kiss him, drunk on the taste of the other's tongue playing with his own. But before it could grow, he lightly shoved the other away. "Wait a minute. Did you just tell me to move on?"

"Uh-uh," his lover frowned playfully. "I said, 'take me as I am, or move on'."

A slow smirk crossed his mouth. "And you're giving me a choice?"

The other's eyes flashed. And the first found himself the happy victim of his lover's vengeful attack.

~o~

"Touma, your phone is ringing."

He frowned down at the page of sheet music he was currently revising, replying distractedly, "Would you answer it for me, Noriko?"

"Sure." She navigated her way around the mess of sheet music, file folders, and one keyboard on her way to the dining room wall. Lifting the phone from its hook, she pressed a button and held it up to her ear. "Hello," she playfully answered in her best secretary voice. "You've reached the residence of Touma Seguchi; how may I help you today?"

A small smile quirked his mouth as he tried to go back to what he had been doing.

"Oh hey, Ms. Mika; it's good to hear from you. Hey, you don't sound too good, did something happen? Slow down, I can't understand you…"

Alarmed, Touma forgot his work and stood. The mess around his chair had piled slightly more than anywhere else, but he cleared it quickly with very little trouble as he stumbled over to Noriko's side. "Let me talk to her?"

Nodding, she spoke once more into the receiver. "I'm going to hand you over to Touma, okay? One sec." She handed him the phone, whispering, "She's really upset about something, but she won't tell me about it."

"Thank you," he mouthed, then waited until she had returned to their paperwork before bringing the receiver up to his own ear. "Mika?"

"Oh, Touma!" Her voice cried from the other end. "It's Eiri-"

"Eiri? What happened; is he all right?"

"I-I don't know. He says he's fine, but… He just doesn't seem himself anymore. He doesn't smile or laugh; he ostracizes himself from our father; h-he ignores me when I try to talk to him. He won't even open up to Tatsuha the way he used to, and he's… I caught him smoking! Touma, I'm worried. What if this is because of what happened in New York?"

He sighed, secretly fearing the same. "Mika, I want to you listen to me. No matter what happens from here on, we must never forget that he had always looked to us for support. He knows that we love him and will always be there for him."

"But-"

"Please, listen. Before I first came to Japan, I had a few comrades in what I used to do. Of these men, one devoted himself only to his work, and another was quite antisocial." He allowed himself a small smile at the memory, "Yet with time, even they soon came around. It often required a great deal of patience, and there were days when all our efforts seemed for naught. But in the end, every struggle had been worth it."

"And… You think we should try the same thing with Eiri?"

"Of course."

A pause. "No matter how long it takes?"

"Yes, Mika. Patience shows its most rewarding results, only if the trials are many."

After another few seconds of reassurance, she had finally calmed down enough to hang up and let him get back to his work. However, before he could return to his mess and his chair, his cell phone rang. Noriko giggled at the frustrated expression on his face, helping him to dig through the sheet music to find the thing. "Ha!" She declared, tossing it over.

Shaking his head, he flipped open the cell phone and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Winner."