Doflamingo oversaw Law's education. When he wasn't busy training, learning a combination of sword fighting and hand-to-hand combative skills, Law was spending at least two hours a day in his captain's room. Lesson's in history and piracy were usually taught in private, while others, usually involving a book or the written word, included the company of one of the officers, save Corazon.

Law was an eager student and a quick learner. Several months into his studies, and he required less help to figure out problems. Some days, like today, consisted of Law taking notes without any outside interaction, only speaking up to ask his captain general questions about the subject.

Doflamingo was confident that he could prime Law to be a valuable member of the Donquixote family and crew. With less than two years before his supposed "death day," there was plenty of time to locate a means of extending Law's life, even if by a few years. Doflamingo knew there were many treasures across the globe; the Grand Line was well known for harboring all sorts of mysteries. Assuming a greedy World Noble didn't get their hands on it first, Law would be safely accounted for.

"Doffy?"

Doflamingo placed his glass of wine on top of a crate, between his spread legs. "What is it, Law?"

"Can you read?" The question was immediate and lacked any indication of fear or shame. Doflamingo listened, waiting to catch the slightest sound of the boy shuffling in his seat, but was pleased with the welcome of silence.

"No," he replied, shifting his head in the direction of the desk where Law sat. "I was born blind, remember?"

"There are forms of literature written in braille." This time Doflamingo caught something. The child was flipping through the pages of his book, stopping, possibly locating his newly discovered evidence. "It's been around for a while now," Law added.

What could he possibly say? Mariejois lacked any form of braille or supplemental writing for him to learn. It was an invention by the common people, and while most Nobles had no problem reaping the benefits of the average man, Doflamingo couldn't see them accepting a form of literature that was to aid what many considered a physical handicap. Not once during his time spent in Mariejois was he told he needed to learn anything differently than others (though actions by some adults would suggest otherwise). After all, he was a god. And everything after was him working to regain his godly title. He couldn't be bothered to find a book on braille, learn it, and then waste his time scouring stores in hopes of finding a book that was printed in it.

"I think it's clear," he calmly began, "by the lack of literature on my person, that I've no braille texts." Avoiding his wine glass, he stood up from his seat and sauntered over to the shelves that carried less than a a dozen books on them. Doflamingo stopped in front of it, wrinkling his nose as a small, crooked smile grew on his face. "Not that I've suffered from a lack of literary influences," he added, reaching out and touching the spine of one of the books.

"They read to you?" Law asked.

Without turning his head, Doflamingo provided him a quick, short nod. "Once in a while."

"I never see anyone read to you, other than Trebol and the paper," Law muttered.

He was about to reply, but Doflamingo realized there was truth to Law's remark. Aside from crew-related duties, Doflamingo hadn't taken the time to relax and listen to someone read him a story. He thought more on the issue, trying to think of the last time he did, and the first name that came to mind was Vergo, about a week before his departure. It wasn't even a decent story, just some silly tale Vergo picked up and chose to read aloud to him. After that he left, and Doflamingo was busy reassigning teams to balance his brother's clumsiness, and then the children came along, and now…

Doflamingo pulled his hand away from the books. "Things have been hectic." He turned around and faced Law. "There just isn't enough time for fiction."

"Huh," Law said. He listened to another page being turned. Good, Law was paying attention to his studies, even with this topic going on. "Do you miss it?"

It didn't sound like a kind offering. Doflamingo doubted Law was hinting at possibly picking something up and reading it to him, which was fine by him. The boy wanted to spend his time learning how to ruin lives, and Doflamingo respected the hell out of that dream. It was a realistic goal. And even Law wanted to, it wasn't like they had anything lying around.

But Law was quiet, waiting for a response, or biding his time till his two hours were up.

"It's not something I worry too much about," he answered.

"Oh," was all Law managed to say before going silent again. The pages were flipped again, back to the page he'd left off at. Doflamingo took his seat, picking up his glass and went back to sipping, silent unless Law required any assistance.

A few minutes went by and he heard Law move in his seat again. Doflamingo crossed one leg over the other, pretending to not notice and let his mind wander again, now eager to have the lesson come to an end so that he could go out and enjoy the warm weather outside on the deck.

He closed his eyes, the void of scenery not changing, but the feeling inside of him became more apparent.

Listening to his mother teach his little brother to read was something that had always made him feel a little isolated. Hearing about Crocodile's promotion to Shichibukai through his executives, none of which cared a fraction of the amount he did, wasn't nearly as enjoyable as it could have been if he read it himself. And with Vergo gone, he was without his favorite narrator to overly enunciate every other word.

Doflamingo was first to leave his room when the hours were up. He swung the door wide enough to allow Law to run off after him, racing past and eager to get into trouble with his fellow crewmates. He thought even more about the matter of books and wondered if Law had a favorite genre. Most boys liked adventure. He was living one now, but Doflamingo recalled being a huge fan of adventures and fantasies.

He removed his sunglasses, tucked them away at the collar and raised his head up, letting the fresh air and sunlight hit his face and ease his frustrations. The sounds of Jora exaggerating over the detail of her latest work of art, while Gladius screamed at Baby 5 for chasing after the boys refreshed him after spending two hours in that cramped room.

A quick flick of the fingers, and Doflamingo located the mast. He walked over, avoiding Dellinger's grabbing hands, Pica's large frame chasing after him, and rested against mast, first letting his back lean against it, until he began to sink. Now sitting, he crossed his legs and listened to the sounds of his crew all around him, loud and carefree.

The wind blew a light breeze and he flared his nose, catching the bitter smell of singed feathers.

Doflamingo blinked a few times before looking over, finding nothing, at least not while he kept his hands down, but knowing somewhere, not too far, was the new Corazon. His nose flared again, and Doflamingo hadn't the slightest idea if he was even looking remotely close to where Corazon might be, but the more he stared out, thinking about stories and the like, the lonelier he felt.

The one person in the world who had a story to offer, who understood him the most, through history and blood, was now a mute.