Another ordinary day in summer. Birds sang cheerfully some one of their annoying musics; leaves swinging in a wind way, and a strongly hot weather has given me a headache. However bad it may seems, all my mornings are just ugly like that. And these ugly daily mornings are probably the highlight of my day.

Just because was the only time that I could do whatever I wanted.

I was only three-years-old when those fucked up who gave me birthday were arrested and the shitty system thrown me up into an orphanage. Since it, every day of my life has been a survival challenge. I used to hate all this place, all these people, all these guardians – whom, just like me, were miserable here, but probably thanks to the sucked paycheck. All this anger just forced me to isolate, and this is why I used to have a secret spot. I liked to be alone.

I really did. That spot was the only place where I could be in peace, hide from everyone. By the morning, the entire orphanage remained in the yard during the recess. Noisy kids played, grumpy adults complained their problems and the little me rested in peace far away from them. Nobody knew I wasn't there; nobody missed me and that was awesome.

But my happiness never can last more than a minute.

– Help, you need to help me! Please, let me hide here!

I don't remember his name, his voice, his age, his reason... I don't remember nothing at all. All that I remember is: a foreign kid, a bit older than me, living in the same orphanage, had found my secret spot. After that, my peaceful spot has never been peaceful anymore.

He was the worst kid in the entire orphanage

[Sound of alarm clock]

– Was a dream...? Urgh, of course it was, stupid me.

I woke up thanks to the most annoying digital device ever, which the only function in the world is to wake me every morning and remind me how empty my life is. Sorry if I sound grumpy, but I'm no longer a little eight-years-old kid. I'm an adult and I have total right to be grumpy.

Ignore that I was a grumpy eight-years-old kid as well.

My name is Trafalgar Law and I don't have any relatives, family or friends. When I got the legal age I was kicked from the only place I knew and, for a huge luck, I haven't ended in the streets.

Not totally, at least.

Every day since I was kicked out of the orphanage I'd slept in a different place until I found the perfect spot: an old abandoned market that I've made my home for a couple of years.

Thanks to my great talent of being alone and my passion for reading, I successfully hid some unimportant information and I went to a university after my note high in the entrance exam. I've promised myself not to be miserable and give up of my life so easily.

I entered the medical school and that's a victory I made all by my own.

Now, with 32-years-old, I'm proud of owned a very nice two floor house and a job in one of the most renowned trauma hospitals in the country, as a chief or surgery. Wasn't luck or anything; I wasn't a "chosen of God". I'm like anyone else, just took advantage of the fact I was always alone and started reading some school books in my free time, which was the whole day.

I never needed friends or shit.

Whatever, let me go to what matter. Is eight o'clock right now and the hospital was quiet, which was a big rarity, so I went to the snack bar and bought some coffee.

Even though, like it have been for all my life, I couldn't be able to have a single peace minute, so in the exactly fucking moment I paid the fucking coffee, my team paged me because some stupid made stupidity.

I gave up away my delicious coffee and ran immediately to out of the hospital, where an ambulance was bringing an unconscious man to my trauma team. In those situations, we have to hurry up as faster we can because we don't know how long the patient can wait for a procedure and all second is crucial.

– What we got? – I ask for the paramedical team while I was preparing to run with my own.

– Unconscious, not responsive white men about 30-years-old with a cranial fracture. He fell from a tree trying to save a cat. BP 8/7 and dropping, we don't know blood type or if he's a donate.

– "Fell trying to save a cat"? What is he, a fireman? – I don't know why, and probably is not one of the super most important asks (or ethical), but I had to ask.

– Hahaha, I doubt dude, he seems to be some random bored dumb. But sound serious! – The paramedical answer, ironically.

– Whatever. When he fainted?

– We've found him already fainted, people at the local said was in the same time he dropped.

My team and I run with the fainted guy into the surgeon room while one of us paged the neurosurgeon. Soon we're all ready to performing surgery; the whole medical staff necessary was there and the patient breathed with the help of a tube.

### couple hours later ###

The surgery was succeeded. The patient has been taking to a room where would receive the post-op treatment. He hasn't woken until now, but is normal considering all the damages he suffered from the head trauma.

His body and face was covered with a lot of wires, machines and he still breathe with the help of an oxygen mask. He wasn't in life-threatening, but he'll have a 24/7 nurse supervision who'll page me when he wake up. As a surgeon, my work there have been done.

After that, my belly told me that was finally the lunch time. Well, isn't a "time" for sure, it's more like a "you-don't-have-emergencies-now-so-eat-fast", but is still my favorite time. One doctor's curiosity is that we warn you to eat healthy food, but we almost ever had ready meals, like my tuna sandwich!

– Doctor?

– Hm? – Oh God, again, I can't have a time break... One tall blonde man wearing heavy glasses which covered his vision came to me and I had to stop eating my delicious tuna sandwich. Indeed, I didn't have a single bite yet.

– Are you Trafal-something? – He asks me. How dare he stopped my meal without even know my name? His voice was thick, scratched and he looked to be a tough guy. Little scare too, to be honest.

– Yes..? – I answer.

– Names Doflamingo. I'm here because my stupid little brother smashed his head. You know, an... he's blonde and have "stupid" spiked all over his face.

– Oh, the kitty savior? Yes, he's in room 97, but he hasn't woken up yet.

– "Kitty savior"? – Donquixote asks with an uncertain face, perhaps a little curious about what his younger brother has done now.

– Yeah, y' know... he was found risking his own life trying to save a cat. It's in the hospital diary, everybody talk about that. He's a true hero, you should be proud. – I tried to relax the tough, guy who seems to be really angry about his younger brother, with a little of my creepy informal humor, but I think I just got worse. – And he did. Cat's fine.

– This is the most… stupid thing I've heard. – But it seems that didn't work so well. The man sighed. – He almost kills himself again over a cat?

"Again"? – Didn't say in a loud voice, but how often this happens?!

– Thank you, however. – Donquixote says and then turn to the exit.

– Hey, the room 97 is over there. – But, when I saw he was going to the exit, I pointed to the opposite direction. I mean, most of people would wanna visit their relatives in the hospital, don't they?

– Nah, didn't you said he was sleeping? I'll be back another day.

– Yeah, but perhaps you may wanna see–

– No, no, I'm done. This jerk dies every week, I won't spend my precious time! – Said at the same time he was going towards the exit. – When he wakes up please tell him that he've work to do!

(...)

I don't know if it is an early maturity, but I always knew that my brain worked in a different way than the majority people in my age. When I was eight, I liked to be alone in my secret spot.

There, I used to read the few books of the orphanage.

I liked books more as I liked people. I liked the peace they gave.

So, when this fucked kid showed up in my secret spot, I freaked out. The worst part wasn't someone find that spot; was been him who did it.

I've always hated him in secret.

– You need to help me, they are coming! – Screamed the little son of a bitch. My anger was so huge, so, sooo huge, that I've even helped him.

– Hurry, hide here!

I was a watcher. I didn't like to chat, but I used to watch every second what everyone was doing. I wasn't a speaker, I was a listener. A stalker. A bored eight-years-old stalker who couldn't read all the time 'cause haven't books enough in the orphanage.

So, people were my reading too.

I don't remember his name or his voice, but I used to hate him. He was a total mess: he couldn't run without falling, he couldn't watch any kind of movies because he cried every time, he couldn't drink anything a little hotter because his tongue burned easily and then he cried. He couldn't do anything!

Plus, he was white. He has the same age as I, but his eyes are blue, his hair is blonde. Nobody would like to adopt an old kid with filthy skin, gray eyes and grumpy like me if they saw a boy like him.

To be honest, I was envious.

I always used to see white boys leaving this place easily. The most kids didn't realize this happened, but I did. I was a watcher. And I knew if someone would adopt some grown child, that must be him.

But nobody also liked him.

He was the gentle kind of boy. The sweet one, the pure, the innocent, harmless and inoffensive one who couldn't hurt a single fly. I was a watcher and he was a 'talker'. He liked to talk and talked every time, everywhere, every-single-minute, every-single-second. He was such a friendly jerk that I was angry at me for having anger on him.

Nobody liked him because he was different from anyone in the entire orphanage. He was chased and humiliated. People mocked him out, and then threw he things, and then threw him on the floor.

So, when he came to me screaming for help, I had to help him.

And so, the little "I-talk-every-single-minute" sucker never left me being alone again.

[Sound of alarm clock]

– This dream again...?

Again, the devil machine woke me up for another day at work. I keep having these odd dreams about my childhood and I don't understand why. I hate my past, so why I had this dream for the second time?

Weird.

Well, another day in the hospital. Today I think that some great will happen because I could be able to finish my coffee without interruptions and that's made me a little less grumpy. Oh, my, God. It's midday and I didn't see a surgeon room yet. Nobody gets hurt in this city anymore?

Weird.

Ok, time to walk across the hospital searching for an empty room that I can do some read. I don't read a book in a very long time; now I just read the human body in flesh and blood. (creepy grumpy humor)

So, I was just walking when I had this feeling. This motherfucker feeling that took all my desire to read. I just passed through the room 97.

Yeah, I had just passed through the room 97 when my heart began to hurt and my feet stopped.

"What is that?" I ask myself. "What we got here?"

In the room 97 there's only one guy, but without all those machines and wires. The idiot who almost gets himself killed thanks to a cat. He didn't wake up yet, but now he could breathe without the oxygen mask. All the support machines had been taken away too.

For the first time, I was able to see him.

I came closer. He was lying down, of course, with eyes shut, but I could see his skin. His soft, light and velvety skin. I don't know why, but it seems so... gentle. So fragile and delicate. Is he a metro-sexual, perhaps?

His hair was the same: a light blonde that seems to be very silky. Wasn't totally straight; the voluminous haircut bated in his neck making curves. Not strongly curves, but delicate ones.

Confess that I felt a little willingness to touch it.

Not in a sexual-romantic way, of course, wasn't what I've mean. It's just... he has this aura, y' know? Seems that your day will become a little less gray if you touch him. Even a little less grumpy.

– So... Kitty savior, huh? – I said. It's hard to read someone who isn't awake.

Yes, it's hard to know some people story when he or she is sleeping. I don't know his name, I don't know his voice. The little I know is: this guy is probably another messed up. I barely knew his older brother and he acted like his younger brother was a suicidal. Is he a suicidal? Perhaps I shouldn't touch him so far...

What the fuck am I saying?

– Idiot. Don't try to kill yourself.

I said it and then immediately someone page me. This means that another stupid made stupidity and now probably will need a surgery, which means I have work to do. Oh, isn't that bad work with the other peoples misfortune, actually is kinda funn–

– I wasn't... trying to kill myself.

I was just leaving the room 97 with anybody but my thoughts when I hear some voice. I looked around me searching for the owner of that voice, but I failed. I was alone, I can tell you, I know what is to be alone and in that moment I was for sure! So...

Where is this voice coming from?

Omg, a ghost.

No, isn't a ghost. The voice came from the haunted room 97, most precisely from the bed, most precisely from the sleepy jerk. He talked. Shall I call a nurse? Is he waking up?

No, he is still a sleeper. Probably a sleepwalker, but still a dude who can't stay awake. Perhaps he's having a better recovery and with a little luck he woke up today, maybe. But I can't stay here for much longer, I had a new patient right now.

Too bad, I was getting curious about this guy...

(...)

– Someone already told that you have a funny name?

Someone already told that you have a funny name? No? Yes? In my case, Trafalgar Law is not an usual name independent the country that you are.

After I helped my new friend to run away from bullies, my secret spot was no longer secret, as I've already told you. What you probably don't know is that this little guy and I became friends after that. Not ordinary friends, not hang-out-friends. Real friends.

He became my mega super duper best friend.

Every day we spent time together. I told him how to read long books easily and he told me how to chat with other people. I told him how to hide, he told me how to show up. I told him how to contain the crying, he told me I was able to cry.

I used to not see any good quality in him before we become friends. "He is a nonsense, insecure and dependent kid. He doesn't know how to do nothing. He won't survive alone. He is totally useless, all he does is crying!" I used to think.

Now I envy his heart. He has the best type of a heart that a person can have. He is too good to be in a place so horrific like this. He's a good kid and probably will die if he continues living here. I know, this place take all good that a person has and destroys it.

He was an optimistic kid, I was a grumpy one. Yes, I could teach him how to be cold to protect himself from others; but I was so busy trying to learn how to be happy to protect myself from me.

And yes, I could teach him how to hide feelings. But before I could do it, he teaches me how to smile.

Little fucked up son of a bitch. Why do I've had to fall by his smile?

– Yeah, already told me that my name is odd.

His name, just like mine, was difficult enough for a child. So, we decided to have nicknames! It's why I don't recall his name... I wasn't used to call him for his name...

I've only called him...

[Sound of alarm clock]

– Wha... why?! Why I keep having those dreams?!

For fuck's sake, I don't wanna remember my past! Oh, God, why it continued to happen? Fuck off haunted nightmares, I don't want you! I don't wanna remember that little fucked mess up child.

I am a 32-years-old surgeon and I fucking don't have a reason to keeping reminding my childhood trauma! Oh, Gosh... why a traumatized kid would become a trauma doctor..? The fucking karma maybe. But it's not a enough reason to keep haunting me. I'm a grown up. I wish the little me was never existed.

When I was eight-years-old I knew the worst person in the whole world. I fucking hate him and I've spent years of my life trying to forget him. Why the fuck I'm dreaming with him? This doesn't make any sense!

– So, I don't understand. People told me I would be a failed because I didn't have family, money, school or even a home. But now I have a two floors house and I still miserable? Why? Ok, I don't have friends, girlfriend or however this nonsense stuff, but this means that I would never be happy? Why people can't understand that I'm happy alone?

(What I'm doing?)

– People can't understand that other people can be happy alone. Trust is a dangerous weapon and trusting no one is the greatest thing you can do. When I need to relax, I can easily go to a party, cinema or staying at home. I can do whatever I want without give satisfaction to anyone or have to worry with anyone but me. I date myself, so what? Self-love isn't a bad shit.

At this moment, I've finally reached rock bottom. I was so desperate that right now I'm talking with a sleepwalk. Yes, I'm in the haunted room 97 again, sat on a chair, chatting with my new friend, "Mr. Suicidal aka. Cat Savior". It's wonderful talk to a person who can't say nothing. It's like a free dumb psychologist. Have you ever seen a doctor that talks with their coma patients? Well, that's me.

Or it could be, if my page have not ringed.

– Was good talking with you too, Cat Savior.

This evening I refuse to sleep. I have a day off tomorrow, so I can spend all night awake.

(...)

Now I have thirteen-years-old. Five years ago I was a gray grumpy kid who only knows how to read fancy books. Five years ago I was eight and I met my best friend. Boy, my best friend is the greatest person in the world. You shall envy me.

At the orphanage we needed to sleep in different bedrooms because my name starts with L and his name start with R, but it was not a problem at all. Who told we sleep? Remember when I said that I used to have a secret spot where no one missed me?

Well, my not-so-secret spot is now a bedroom. At night, my besty and I ran away of our rooms and spent all night together. In the next day, we just slept together in the morning at our secret sleepy spot. Basically, we are like twins now. He is the only person I like and I'm sure I'm the only person he likes.

– Law... – He calls me.

– Yes?

– I heard something...

– What did you hear?

– I heard you'll be adopted.

"What?" I thought. "I'll be adopted"? Me? Trafalgar Law?

He said it with a sad face, without that smile I liked so much. But I don't get it. I'll be adopted? What? This makes no sense, I'm thirteen-years-old! Who'll adopt a teenager? A teenager lover? Since when this is a thing?

Boy, I'm here so long that I totally forgot here is an orphanage. Looks more like a prison that some inmates are freed sometimes, but I thought my penalty was up to the legal age. What am I, a thug who coming out earlier by good behavior?

And more important: why me and not him?

– Law... are you leaving? – He asks me with some water around his eyes. – I don't know how to survive without you.

Oh fuck, he never will survive here without me, and I'll never survive outside without him. Firstly, I was never outside before! What the heck?

Here am I, a teenager who is scared as hell with this possibility. He was the only person I've trusted, liked, talked to, hanging to, spent time... he is the person who made me less depressive! And a thirteen-years-old kid don't wanna know about their future, they wanna stay with your friend whatever the cost.

So, I made a promise. I took his hand, said the nickname I've had with him and then we promise:

"We will not be adopted. We'll refuse a foster family; if we survived together so far, we can survive forever. We don't need relatives, we have each other!"

Together we were and together we made this stupid promise. I thought myself mature enough to take my own decisions, but what I didn't know at this time is that the real world was hell scarier than the orphanage. Oh boy, how do I have no idea of that...

Poor me; poor little boy. What I wouldn't give up for to never have to spend so many years living in an abandoned market? I don't know, I like my life the way it is now, but... I can't deal with my past. I'm miserable, I know, and I think that's incurable.

Again, why a trauma doctor can't deal with their own traumas?

Specially a chief of trauma surgery. Boy, I'm the fucking chief.

But, you know...

I used to spend much time living in a market, starving sometimes, sleeping with eyes open, working as a slave, having to steal, seeing people die or being arrested, having to escape, to hide...

But at least, I could do it with my friend.

My best friend.

My super mega super duper best friend.

Yes... my best friend.

Me.

I was all I need because we can't trust no one.

I was with me no matter what.

The next day we made a promise; in the freaking next day, less than 24 hours later...

My former best friend was adopted and I went alone.

[Sound of alarm clock]

– Urgh, here we are...

Today is my day off, which means I don't have to work unless there's a real emergency that even my whole team can't deal without me. I had intended to not sleep this night to avoid the nightmares, but I'm so fucked up that I slept in my bath! And worst: I didn't shut the Goddammit alarm clock off!

Ok, ok... I can't freak out so easily. I can enjoy my day off with some fun, don't I? I deserve it.

Perhaps I could do a little walk, go to a coffee shop, make some short trip, find out the fucking wonders of the world, adopt a cat, maybe a dog, eat something exotic, go to a park, to a museum, to a mall... I don't know! So many possibilities...

But, of course, I can't ever have any shitty peace. My cellphone rang and, since I don't have friends, could only be the job.

"Doctor Trafalgar, I'm sorry! I know it's your day off..."

See? Told ya. Can't have a single bit of peace.

"But your room 97 patient woke up. You don't need to come, I've just thought you would wanna know."

###

I have no right to complain.

– Hey, you finally woke up! How you feel? I'm the trauma doctor who was in charge of your surgery.

I am a damn piece of son of a bitch, for sure. In the exact moment I received that call, I ran to the hospital to see my dumb nightwalker psychologist patient. I finally could see his eyes, and wow! So blue! A blue haven that seemed to have been stolen from an Angel. A celestial blue.

– Hey, you're my doc! Nice to meet you and thanks for saving me. – He opened a huge sparkling smile and thanked me for my work. For some reason, I had this connection with this guy. Is nice finally meet him, but probably won't last longer.

– How do you feel? Something hurt, do you feel tired...

– No, no at all. I'm just only a little worried about my older brother, I think he might be upset with me... – He said sadly. His brother actually seemed very, very pissed off...

– Do you wanna call him?

– I don't know. How long I slept?

– About three days.

– Oh my God! We should have travelled yesterday back to our country, I-I-I don't believe I missed the flight, oh my God his going to kill me! Oh my, how can I be so stupid...

– Ow, ow, calm down. He wouldn't go without you, wouldn't he?

– Well, I don't blame you, you don't know my brother...

– So he would..? – Seriously? What kind of older brother is he..?

– Do you have any brothers, doc? Or sisters? Or cousins?

– No, I really don't.

Well, my brother like me, I hope so, but he's a bit rough on how to demonstrate and he's not as very patient. Ah, but he isn't a bad person at all! He seems to be evil, but he is very loving.

I really don't wanna know how scary is that love...

– I'm sure we'll be able to contact your brother as soon as we can. – I said. – But you're not from here? Your ID said...

– Oh, no, I was born here, but my family by father wasn't. I live with them in that other country; actually I haven't been here since I was thirteen, which had a huge time if you stop to think... but I like here very much!

(I thought that he wouldn't stop talking anymore)

– And why did you return to here?

– Are you kidding?! – He made an excitement face. – I've been trying to convince my family to come here since I know them, but they're all so busy with the whole company staff. Oh, we owned a company, I forgot to talk. I had planned to move to here in my eighteen-years birthday, but then my brother finally seemed to have started to like me, and then our relationship was beginning to look better... well, was tough, but he convinced me to stay.

– Do you love your brother very much, don't you? – I said, seeing the way he spoke about his brother. I usually get bored when patients began to tell me these stories, but... in that case...

– Yeah, very, very, very much! Ah, I'm sorry, I must be bothering you.

– No, no. Keep talking. – I grab a chair and sat beside him. – Today is my day off and I don't have nothing to do, so...

We started to chat. A lot. Like, I am not usually the very lovely kind of doctor, the type who like to spend time with each patient. I'm more the practical one who only do the job and then goes to the next patient. No less, no more, just the necessary. I used to treat my patients like numbers.

But, I don't know why... I've decided to make something different. After all, it's my day off, right?

And then, we talk. A lot. Like, he told me about his older scary brother. His brother used to hate him very hard, but after some years living together, now they're like twins. Like real brothers.

Like... real brothers who love each other.

I confess I had a little envy. I could never have any feeling like that...

The only person I used to hate, and then started to love, is the person who betrayed me. The one who now I hate more than everything. The one who I feel rancor. The one who took my foster family, abandoned me and gave me the worst days of my life.

The one who I blamed for have killed my hope.

I wonder where is he now.