For Her to Return
Spirit talks in a fucked up way because he's drunk. If you can't figure that out, you're stupid.
Stein sighed, forcibly turning the wide screw sticking out of his head yet another time. The first time, people stared, but this is a bar, people came here to complain about their own problems, not wallow around in other peoples'.
Except for Spirit, coincidentally enough. He had to be the only one that could stand other people's problems before groggily nodding and downing the rest of his whiskey. Spirit is that way; he cares and he doesn't care at the same time, a great and annoying fault. And that's why Stein could stand the man, even with his overactive estrogen and compelling hatred of the scientist before him. Stein was in no mood for "sciencing" today, though.
"So, little Stein-y winey wants ta drink wit me todei... How odd..."
The deathscythe scratched his unshaven chin, a sure sign that before Stein had found him there, he had been vegetating in alcohol for days. "I guess, I do, Sempai."
"Ha! I neber understand why the fucking hell you still call me by that... Ha! Stronger, smarter, crazier... And a better relationship than with the woman I've been married to for five years... Prrr-tii good..."
Stein's eyes fell to the floor. "Baka. That's why I'm here." The scientist fought all urge to stand up, pull out a scalpel, and stab the drunk's forehead for hitting a weak spot in his indestructible exterior. "I'm here because of... Marie."
Spirit rolled his eyes, his former meister tried so hard to be emotionless, but it all fell apart when he started talking about his girl. "Why ask for advice if I'm an idiot, Kohai?"
"She's leaving."
Spirit's rare serious expression was broken in a quick glance to scientist's face.
Sadness. Pure sadness.
Spirit let out a common drunk laugh and reached over the bar to grab another bottle, ignoring the shrieks from the bartender as he grabbed his objective drink and drank down pretty much the whole bottle. Stein watched this whole event wirelessly. Could Spirit really care so little?
"Well, that blows. Did she catch you dissecting her in her sleep, or something?"
Stein didn't bother to meet his former scythes' eyes. "No. I never dissected her."
"Then what?"
Stein gritted his teeth and grabbed Spirit's arm, ignoring the yelp he created as Stein cut off circulation to his arm past his elbow.
"I'd kill you Spirit; I would have at many times, if you were not my only friend."
Spirit nodded and tried to smile as his arm began to change color. "Same here, buddy."
Stein finally reached over the bar himself, taking the first bottle of liquor he found, downing it just as his Sempai had. Spirit watched, silently hoping he would just let go of his arm before it would be needed to be amputated.
"Uh... Ste-ne? Stein? Stein-sama? Pleez let my ohm go?"
Ignoring the question, Stein collapsed on the bar, in his own pool of tears.
"Why... Why... Why did she... Why did she leave me? Why?"
Spirit watched silently, but never having seen this side of the scientist before, didn't know how to respond.
"I'm... Ima so-ree, Stein... Teh frrst relashonship break-up iz allwaiz teh hardest."
"You've never had a relationship," Stein spat, finally letting go of Spirit's arm. "You've never... Had someone... Like my Marie..."
Spirit sighed, to tired and drunk to fight with the currently illogical Stein. "Yeh, I no. I no. I'm horribell, your purrfect."
He took another sip from his empty drink, trying to bug Stein one last time. "Why did she leeev, ten?"
"She's a deathscythe. She's getting reassigned to Oceania," Stein explained, not giving his former weapon eye contact. "She said it wouldn't work out, long distance."
"Ah, isee," Spirit nodded. Stein glared at him, grabbing this time instead of his arm, his neck.
"Don't you get it, you retard? You don't see! You don't know what it's like to have your heart ripped out and stomped on, by the only woman you'll ever love, on the night you finally worked up your courage to propose to her! You don't see at all!"
"Hey, you're killing the guy. It's not his fault. Just let him go," the bartender spoke calmly, trying to prevent a death in his bar.
"I... I just... I don't know anymore," Stein whimpered, letting go of Spirit's neck in favor of covering his own face. "I just don't know..."
"Come on, dude. We all know life blows. But it goes on. You can't live your whole life regretting a romance with one pretty lady. There's other fish in the sea! Why don't you-"
"Don't you dare tell me there's someone better than her," Stein growled, standing up from his seat at the bar. "Don't you dare."
"Whoa! Stein! Kent! Don't ged ina fite fwom someting tis stupid!" Spirit tried to get between Stein and the other man, but failed miserably, instead falling to the floor unconscious as Stein pushed him aside.
"The dolt. My name's Carl."
"I don't care," Stein stated, turning around to leave. "Nothing matters anymore."
Finally giving in, the bartender put his hand on Stein's shoulder, who shoved it off.
"Listen; don't go killing yourself over her. Maybe... Just wait. She'll be back, one day, and you can be waiting for her, ring and all. Just wait for her."
Without an answer, Stein left. Since Marie was gone, nothing mattered. Especially one bartender's stupid opinion.
Stein returned to his home, the house as dark and empty as he left it. As she left it.
"I can't do this," he whispered, reaching into his pocket for one small scalpel just to end it all. Instead, he pulled out the box.
The box with her ring in it. He would have given it to her, too; if he wasn't such a wuss that he was now. Awkwardly, he opened it.
Just as he remembered, the ring sat there. Her ring. The ring for her. The ring that he could give to her, if she came back.
When she came back.
So he'd wait, alone in his house, without any company. He'd wait. He'd wait for eternity, if he had to.
For her to return.
For Marie to return.
For his wife to return.
"I'll wait for you, my Marie," he whispered, only the dead trees outside hearing his oath as he traveled inside of Patchwork Laboratories, to begin the extensive wait.
For her to return.
And for him to be happy, at last.