As the bell rang, a flood of children dashed out into the courtyard of Cocoyashi Elementary, chattering and shouting, separating into little groups as they sat down to eat their lunches.
Law slipped out from the mob and sat down in his little corner, a table on the far edge of the grounds that no one else touched. He pulled his bento box out from his backpack and flipped it open, staring blankly at the contents: onigiri, strawberries, and various raw vegetables sliced into thin strips. He half-heartedly nibbled at a strawberry, watching the other students talk, run around, and throw food at each other. It was always like this; the week was almost over, and no one had approached him, much less spoken to him. Everybody here had somebody else, and he was alone.
"Hey, why don't we sit over there?" said a girl to her friend, gesturing towards him. Law didn't make eye contact, pretending that he couldn't hear the conversation.
"Ew, no, not next to him." replied the girl's friend, tossing her head vehemently so that her pigtails flapped. "He probably has cooties, and I don't wanna get infected."
The pair moved on, and Law pushed his bento box away, appetite diminished. With a shudder, he hunched over the table, tugging his jacket more tightly around his small frame. He didn't want to eat anymore…he just wanted to go home…
White monster!
Go back where you came from!
Stay away, we'll be infected!
Hot tears sprung to his eyes, spilling over despite his desperate attempts to stop them. He let out a husky sob, and scrubbed at his face furiously with one sleeve, ashamed at being so easily upset. The more he resisted, the more tears seemed to come; unable to stem his emotions, he buried his head in his arms and wept quietly for several minutes.
"Hi! I'm Nojiko and this is my sister, Nami. What's your name?"
Law jerked his head up, startled. The two girls had somehow sat down without him noticing. The younger one had bright orange hair; the elder had periwinkle blue, pulled back with a headband. They were both smiling.
"M'name's Law." he muttered, trying to cover up the fact that his voice was still hoarse from crying.
"Is your dad Rocinante?" asked the red-head, putting both hands on the table and leaning towards him.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." He wasn't used to his father being addressed by his formal name. "How'd you know?"
"We met him a couple days ago, outside the library." Nojiko explained. "He's nice."
Law inclined his head slightly, not sure what other response to give.
"Mom thinks he's cute."
"Nami!" Nojiko hissed, her gaze darting from Law to her sister.
"What?" asked Nami, innocently. "It's true."
"That doesn't mean you should say it!" With an exasperated sigh, Nojiko turned back to Law, expression radiating a silent apology. "So, when did you come to Cocoyashi?"
"I–" he began.
"Are you crying?" Nami interjected, peering at him.
"No." Law snapped, rudely. "And It's none of your business."
"Nami, sit down and let him talk." her sister reprimanded, jerking on the back of the little girl's dress.
Law cleared his throat uneasily, pulling his bento box towards him and closing the latches. "We've only been here for a couple weeks." he managed to reply, not looking at them.
"Oh. Why'd you move?"
"You ask a lot of questions." he observed. Nojiko frowned, but wisely did not pursue the topic.
"So, we're going to have a picnic on the beach this weekend. You wanna come?" Nami asked eagerly. When Law didn't respond immediately, she continued, "Mommy told us to invite you 'cause you don't have any friends."
"That's not the only reason, though." Nojiko elbowed Nami not-so-discreetly, and the younger yelped indignantly.
"No, it's fine. I can't go, anyway." Law told them.
"Why not?" Nami's disappointment was clear.
"Because I'm busy. I work in the evenings with my dad." he said–which wasn't completely untrue, but a pitiful excuse nonetheless. He unzipped his backpack and shoved his lunchbox into it just as the bell rang, saving him from further awkward explanation. He slid off the bench and ran inside, ignoring the sisters' accusing stares.
After school was let out, he carefully avoided Nami and Nojiko until he was certain they'd left. Then, he waited on the curb, listening for the familiar purr of his dad's moped. A small part of him regretted pushing the two girls away–and now that they were gone, he realized how much he did want a friend.
But it'd been so long that he'd been around people that didn't treat him like an object, a weapon to be used–or worse, a monster or a disease. Glancing downward, Law tugged gently upward on the left sleeve of his jacket, exposing a splotch of discolored, pale flesh on his wrist. The Amber Lead Syndrome, which had threatened to take his life only a year earlier, was fading. It had taken months of agonizing self-experiment, but the milky blemishes had begun to recede; they now remained only on his legs and arms. This success, however, could not heal the deeper injuries, ones that required more than just medical knowledge. Outwardly, he showed signs of healing. Inside, he remained merely a frightened, self conscious ten-year-old that Cora-san had rescued from an untimely death.
These melancholy thoughts invaded his mind as he sat on the cold concrete, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie. Then, the buzz of an engine caused him to lift his head, a smile tugging at his lips. As the black motor scooter approached, the driver threw up a hand in greeting, swerved the vehicle by accident and nearly ran up onto the sidewalk. He managed to course-correct just in time; Rocinante screeched the moped to a halt inches from the curb, his blonde hair a tousled mess and a boyish grin on his face.
"Good job, Cora-san." Law told him, dryly. "You didn't wipe out that time."
"Hey, I only crashed once." the blonde protested, tossing him a helmet.
"Twice." the boy corrected, climbing onto the back seat and shoving the helmet onto his head. "Remember that time with the pigeon and the trashcans?"
Rocinante rolled his eyes. "Okay, twice. Sue me."
"You should let me drive one of these days." Law suggested, wrapping his arms around his dad's shoulders. Roci chuckled in reply; revving the moped into life, he spun a one-eighty and skidded slightly before speeding away from the school.
It was their tradition to spend the after-school hours at Rocinante's infant law firm (insert name here). Having just been established a few months prior, the firm had no clients, but the two of them still found ways to pass the time. Despite the fact that Law was far too young to be Rocinante's associate, the boy was immensely helpful–not to mention the fact that he had a calculating, almost frighteningly shrewd head on his shoulders. Roci often mused on the possibility that Law could become his official partner. They made a fantastic team–at least, in his head.
—
He waited to ask the question until they'd reached the firm; he'd read at least part of the answer in Law's expression as he'd driven up to the school, the dark bruises under his eyes, the way his shoulders had sagged as he'd walked into the office. And when Law had unpacked his school things, the blonde noticed that his lunch was uneaten, again.
The boy was suffering. But there wasn't much Rocinante could do about it.
Shortly after they arrive, Law finally felt hungry, so he perched himself on a stool in the reception area and began finishing his leftover lunch. Roci guessed that this was the best time as any. He placed the documents he'd been scanning onto his desk and tented his fingers.
"So, what's wrong?" he asked, bluntly. It had never been his habit to sugar-coat his words–lie, occasionally, but only if extreme circumstances demanded it.
Law froze in mid-bite, an onigiri halfway to his mouth. With a deep breath, he placed the rice ball back down, mumbling,
"I don't want to talk about it."
Rocinante exhaled, aware that he was coming very close to crossing an emotional boundary. "Did you try talking to anyone at school?"
"Not really. A couple girls sat at my table for a little bit." he replied, with forced disinterest. "Nami and Nojiko."
"I've met them."
"Yeah, I heard." Law said, flatly.
They spent the rest of the evening in silence; no one came in, as usual. When sunset came, Roci rummaged in his pockets to find the office keys, only to find that Law was holding them in one outstretched hand.
"They fell out of your pocket when you walked in." he said simply. Roci smiled in thanks. After locking up, they left the office for a much more pleasant destination: home.
Their house was perched on what was possibly the tallest hill in Cocoyashi, overlooking the ocean. The sunrises and sunsets were visible from almost every room except the kitchen; in the evening, the house breathed of cool salt air. With three bedrooms, a sizable kitchen, and a quaintly decorated living area, it was more than big enough for the two of them. Despite this, Rocinante didn't usually sleep in his own room. Instead, he camped on the floor next to Law's bed–much like tonight.
He'd waited, at first, listening to Law toss and turn for an hour before quieting at last, and had entertained the possibility that the boy might actually be getting some sleep. Then, a mere two hours later, Rocinante had opened the bedroom door to find Law curled up under the sheets, trembling and sobbing into his pillow.
"Nightmares again, huh, buddy?" the blonde whispered, kneeling down next to the bed with a pillow and a blanket draped over one arm.
The lump beneath the blankets nodded wordlessly; the air was loud with his panicked, shallow gasping. Gently, Rocinante placed a hand on the child's back, rubbing back and forth between his shoulder blades. At this act of tender reassurance, the trembling began to subside, and Law sat up, sniffling; his raven hair was wildly mussed and sticky with sweat. He shifted over slightly to make room for Rocinante, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes with the back of one hand.
The blonde seated himself on the bed, leaning awkwardly against the wall with his legs dangling onto the floor. Law scooted over and rested in the crook of his arm, head pressed against the other's shoulder. With a snap of his fingers, Rocinante created a sound-proof orb that surrounded the two of them; all the noises of the island vanished.
"You don't have to go to school tomorrow, m'kay?" he murmured. "I'll call and tell them you're sick."
Law nodded gratefully, taking in a long, shaky breath.
As the minutes ticked by, Rocinante watched the sky in the east steadily grow paler, all the while feeling Law fidget restlessly against his side, exhausted but unable to sleep. He felt the younger one's frustration, and berated himself for not being able to provide a remedy.
"Would it be better if I slept on the floor?" he asked finally, as Law shifted his position for the thirty-millionth time.
"Yeah–but don't leave the room."
"I won't."
He slid off the bed and onto the floor. The blanket he'd brought was too short to cover all of him (most blankets were), so he curled up into a fetal position on the thick carpet, facing the opposite wall. There he lay, listening until Law's breathing became slow and regular; he judged that the boy had drifted into slumber once more–at least for the next few hours.
