A/N: A little challenge/exercise I'm trying out to get back into writing, where I close my eyes and click on a random song, and obligate myself to write a one-shot on the archive of my choice.
Song: Objection (Tango) -in spanish- by Shakira
Disclaimer: Do not own Soul Eater, or Shakira... or her song. Perhaps I don't even own myself anymore. -.-'
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Stein had once heard what were meant to be wise words uttered in a drunken slur, a message that was meant to be conveyed as good counsel, met deaf ears. Stitched-up, deaf ears. "Laughter is a powerful thing, young man." The old alcoholic had told him, right before falling out of his chair in a fit of giggles, beer gut prominent beneath his damp tank-top. Stein had continued to stare at a fly on the half-empty Heineken bottle, before slipping off his own stool and leaving the bar.
A very insignificant moment in the life of Franken Stein, yet he recalled it with near-perfect clarity in these moments where her laughter rang past the barrier of his deaf ears and ran rampage through his stoic mind, consuming his thoughts like fire to wood, contaminating his mentality like a virus attacking an already sickly immune system.
He had read in books many different descriptions of laughter: One's comparable to the sound of silver bells, others described as cold and frightening. The laughter of a child brought happiness, the laughter of an elder brought hope, the laughter of a bully brought fury, the laughter of evil brought fear.
Her laughter, he could not exactly categorize under the aforementioned labels.
He understood laughter usually meant something well for someone. Yet he found that hard to believe, hearing hers. Hers brought a strange mixture of emotions, all dueling for mental dominance. There is a possibility fear could be one of them (for it she laughed it could mean nothing good), and there was a bit of anger in there as well (how could there not be?), there was desire of indifference (why would he care? It was only laughter, after all.) and there was one more slightly identifiable emotion in there as well, a ghost of a sickeningly positive musing, one that he did not care to linger on.
Connection.
Kinship, even. He felt that this sinister sound she was able to emit connected them on a certain level. Her 'laughter', if you could even call it that in her case, displayed her fractured mental state. In other blunt words: They were both fucking insane.
Medusa turned her catlike yellow eyes of molten lightening on him, and demanded strangely:
"Laugh with me, Stein."
God knows why, but he did.
Because it was through their display of insanity that the simple idea of laughter was disturbed, allowing Stein and Medusa to connect.
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Whoa. That was not how the original story was going to go AT ALL. Wow, pat on the back to me for steering the story so off track, it found other tracks.
(I also apologize to my audience for the dirty word- I don't like to cuss- and my lord for using his name in slight vain.)
Now is when you review.
Go on.
~Yasu