Chapter 3

When Law waked up the next morning, the storm was in full swing, although he could tell that only by the rain whipping the windowpanes. All windows in the Corazon Memorial Hospital were soundproof and so solid that the glass didn't vibrate even by the strongest wind. Bepo's presence in the canteen proved that the storm hadn't caused any harm yet. The head of the emergency unit was sitting over the porridge, which he ate slowly. Law had long since stopped making any comments about the early hour the mink waked up, for it would always lead to the matter of his own circadian rhythm; Bepo missed no occasion to point out that he slept more than his boss. It'd happened so many times so far that nowadays Law used to keep his tongue between his teeth upon seeing Bepo in the canteen at four AM. Besides, he had absolutely no satisfaction in the situation one could called only as, 'the pot called the kettle back,' even if he knew that Bepo, as a mink, was much more sensitive to the lack of sleep.

They didn't talk much today. Law only made sure that there was a quiet night on the emergency unit, and went to work as soon as his breakfast was over. Oncology ward was his initial destination, but then he had to spend some hours at the ward he'd rather not visit at all: paediatrics. He didn't really know, himself, why he didn't like kids - except for, of course, that they were loud and always asked strange questions. If he were forced to find a substantive answer it would probably be that children were weak and required to be taken care of. Adults could manage on their own and were responsible for their lives, but children couldn't survive alone. That was one of the reasons why Law hardly ever reminisced his childhood, for he remembered it as the time when he'd been at the mercy of others and couldn't protect important things. He'd turned adult soon enough to survive, but before that he wouldn't have lived without other's help. Working with children filled him with discomfort, and the fact that it was him, Trafalgar Law, who had their lives in his hands, didn't improve anything.

Time spent on treatment of two patients with malignancies passed too quickly, and soon Law headed for paediatrics. It was still early, and most kids were asleep, but he had no illusions about leaving here with his psyche intact. Treatment of the girl with osteogenesis imperfecta would take long enough for the rest of little patients to wake up. There was no help, though; Trafalgar Law was a doctor for anyone, and he didn't chose his patients according to his own comfort. He took a deep breath and pushed the doors to the children's ward.

Each department occupied one floor of the hospital and consisted of several sub-units. Doctors were sometimes amused by the fact that here the 'head of ward' meant 'boss of the level', like in prison, and they more often said, 'chief of five', than used long and boring, 'the head of the paediatrics'. This floor contained among others paediatric surgery and paediatric oncology. Contrary to other wards, the walls here were painted in the bright colours and decorated with many pictures and funny stickers. In the regular interval could be found the spots where the little patients could play if they were able, altough now the corridors were empty, and only the nurses on the night shift could be seen.

The patient rooms here were big enough to accommodate parents, too, as they often accompanied their children during hospitalisation. Parents could be present during the examination and minor procedures, but not during surgeries and the Ope Ope no Mi treatment. Nursing personnel would always receive Law's detailed schedule for the next day, so they could guide the child's mother or father somewhere else, for Law used to operate by the patients' bed.

That was why now, upon entering the room of the girl with osteogenesis imperfecta - her name was Aika - he didn't found anyone else, even though the girl's mother had been present during the admission yesterday. The girl was sleeping soundly, curled in an unnatural way due to the deformation of the vertebral column. It was probably the only sleeping position she knew. Law was aware that, in her case, surgery didn't mean the end of treatment; the little one would need a rehabilitation to be able to control her body anew. Straightening her spinal column alone meant the sudden change of a few centimetres in her height; it was obvious she would have to learn the motor coordination from the beginning. However, children learned such things in a flash, so half a year from now the girl would likely be running like she'd never been ill. And she was very young, so she probably wouldn't even remember her disease.

The procedure was arduous, for it always took more time to build and strengthen than remove, and this time Law worked on the molecular structure of the organ that filled the whole body and constituted around ten percent of its mass. Connective tissue was situated amongst all other tissues; it also formed bones, tendons, ligaments, and many other organs. Without it, a man would be a shapeless lump of muscles and brain, without a skeleton, skin and subcutaneous layer. The name 'osteogenesis imperfecta' didn't give the whole picture of illness, even though the bone manifestations were the most prominent; however, the problem lying in the centre of the disease was that the organism produced the defective collagen, the main building protein. It had to be repaired, all hundreds of millions of molecules. The Ope Ope no Mi could do it quickly. The surgery, however, wasn't just that; every organ that had developed on that deformed skeleton had to be modified. If Law repaired only collagen, Aika would die of pain since her organs would be suddenly stretched. The operation of the child with that disease meant the modification of the whole body, but Law knew it was worth it.

After he'd finished, the girl lying before him looked different than two hours ago. Her curvature was natural, her limbs longer, and her chest thinner. The girl's face, too, was different, rounder. If Aika opened her eyes, he would see their whites were no longer bluish. Upon her waking up, she would notice how easy it was to breathe. Yesterday, Law described to her mother what she should expect after the treatment was over. He knew that a mother would always recognise her child, but he'd still wanted to prepare her for a shock due to such a sudden and marked metamorphosis. However, humans possessed unusual power of adaptation, and Law had no doubts that Aika's mother would soon get used to her daughter's altered appearance.

The surgery of the infant he performed afterwards was much less demanding. Once he was done with it, it was light outside and the ward was bustling. When using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment, Law cut himself off from every external stimulus, so when he deactivated his Devil Fruit now, light and sound hit him with all might. Yet, he was accustomed to it, and it took only a few seconds to return to the 'real world' again. He went to the corridor, telling the nurse that the surgery was over and the parents could go back to their child. It was nearly eight, and he should move to the operating room on the first floor; before, however, he wanted to have a look at the boy Bepo asked him to examine yesterday. He returned from the infant unit to where the older children were.

As soon as he opened the door, he had the questionable pleasure to closely encounter with the ball thrown by one of the healthier patients.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Director!" the nurse supervising the children's play called anxiously and picked the little culprit up.

He protested loudly, but his mother tended to him, apologising as well. Law lifted one hand in a reassuring manner, trying not to smile too crookedly. Three-years old rascal stared at him curiously, sticking his fingers into his mouth, while other children came closer.

"Are you a pirate, Doctor?" one of the boy blurted, caring little about the proprieties, just like kid used to.

"Birk, you're being impolite," his mother rebuked him. "You can't say such things."

"Why?" the boy's round eyes were filled with astonishment and resentment. "Pirates are heroes."

"Right, right!" the other children followed.

The women exchanged confused looks, unsure as to how react in this situation.

"The Pirate King sailed through all seas and helped people around the world. That's what they told me in school," another boy added and met with the enthusiastic cries.

"And I heard that the doctors in this hospital are pirates," Birk had resumed the previous topic, looking at Law closely. "It's the Pirate King's island, right?"

Some of the boys murmured in the affirmative.

"Doctor Kaya, too, is a pirate?" one of the girls asked anxiously, and two others looked like they were at the verge of tears.

Birk cast her a hesitant look. "Well... I don't know," he finally answered and then stared at Law again.

"No-one in this hospital is a pirate," Law replied, hiding his smile. "And Doctor Kaya has never been one, to begin with."

"And you?" the boy wasn't giving up.

"I used to be... long ago," Law admitted.

The boys looked at each other, their eyes sparkling, some of them put their hands in the air and cried of joy, and one called triumphantly, "Didn't I say?" The older girls kept staring at Law distrustfully, except for one who joined the boys, assumed the right pose and claimed she would become the Pirate King.

"Tell us about how you were a pirate," Birk asked, and the others backed him. "Did you have a ship?"

"Sure he had!" his friend scolded him. "Every pirate has a ship."

"Were you a captain?" the girl, the future Pirate King, asked.

"What was your jolly roger?" another boy inquired. "I think that... the skull and crossbones and stathoscope," he added, inspired.

"It's steroskope," Birk corrected him loftily.

Law swept the curious faces of the whole group with his gaze. The little patients were staring at him in anticipation... as were their mothers, although they could hide their excitement better. Such situations happen on a regular basis, and he had long since grown accustomed to them.

"I was a captain," he said. "But my jolly roger wasn't a skull and crossbones with a stethoscope... only this," he placed one finger on his white coat where was printed the former sign of the Heart Pirates, which was now the symbol of the Corazon Memorial Hospital.

"Why did you stop being a pirate?" came another question. "I would never stop, sailing the seas is great."

"I think that being a doctor is even greater."

"And why-"

"Enough, Tal. Doctor is busy," the boy's mother interrupted. "Come, we'll read your book about the pirates."

The boy was clearly disappointed, but he obediently took his mother's hand, and they headed for his room. The woman looked over her shoulder and bowed to Law. Other mothers followed her suit and occupied their children with conversation and games. Law, finally freed from the little patients' attention, went to the nurses. On his way, he wondered whether he too had got into the history books... He hoped he hadn't. It was enough that the school kids were taught about Luffy...

The nurses told him where to find the boy he'd promised Bepo to examine, he was also given the medical record. He browsed through the test results, but, just like the mink had said, there was nothing off. According to the chart, the boy was called Rosapelo, which sounded more like a girl's name, but the patient was undoubtedly male. When Law entered the room, he found there also the boy's mother, or so he believed, judging from their obvious resemblance, sitting by his bed. The boy was half-lying, half-sitting quietly, his right hand in a provisional cast to secure his fracture until the operation. Both he and the woman had light brown hair and intensely blue eyes, although the boy's were a bit darker.

Law closed the door. "I'm Trafalgar Law," he introduced himself. "I came to examine Rosapelo-"

"Pelo," the boy interrupted him. "That's how everyone calls me," he explained the next moment, probably realising he was being rude. "Rosapelo sounds like a girl," he muttered and lowered his eyes.

"Pelo, then," Law corrected and came closer. "You may stay, Madame," he added when the boy's mother got up, as if she wanted to leave.

"Trafalgar Law..." she repeated, somewhat distant, sitting down on her chair again. Then her gaze sharpened when she apparently realised who he was. "Hospital Director," she added in a softer voice, and anxiety crept onto her face.

Law spoke before she managed to continue. "No need to fear. The doctor who admitted Pelo yesterday, asked me to examine your son, Madame." Again, he looked at the boy, who, in turn, was staring at him as closely. "I heard it's the third time you're in our hospital. You tripped and broke your arm, right? Could you tell me how it happened?"

The boy nodded. "I played football and tripped. And my hand began to hurt. I had fractures before, so I knew it happened again now," he said in a crisp voice, looking Law in the eye.

Just like Bepo had said, he didn't appear as someone who had been intentionally hurt; he was only a bit pale, but overall he seemed quite healthy. It was very easy to imagine him running the sports field only yesterday.

"And now? Is it painful?"

"A bit," the boy replied reluctantly.

Law called the nurse and ordered to give the boy a new dose of painkiller. He waited that the boy took the pill, and resumed examination. "You said you tripped during the game...? Someone ran into you and pushed you?"

The boy shook his head. "No, I just... fell. I tripped."

"Someone tripped you up? Or maybe you lost your balance on the ball? Or was it slippery?"

Another negation. "No, it was before it started to rain. I just..." Pelo looked down. "I fell."

"Did you feel faint?" Law kept asking the questions. "Dizzy?"

The boy gave him a hesitant look and once again shook his head. "No."

"And you were conscious all the time?"

"Yes."

"What about those previous fractures? Do you remember how you got them?"

"The first happened when I tripped on the stairs and broke my leg, under my left knee. The other... on my way to school. It was this hand, too, but here," he pointed at his forearm.

"And that time no-one pushed you either? Nor did you fall over anything?"

"Just like now," the boy replied, nodding.

Law mused. His first conclusion was that two problems could be in question: one concerning bones and the other related to the nervous system. Fracture resulting from falling down the stairs was acceptable, but it was no longer normal that a twelve-year-old kid broke his arm upon falling to the ground. The tests showed that the boy's bone density was within the norm, yet Law knew it didn't make the fractures impossible - it only excluded some diseases. But why the boy kept tripping? It couldn't be epilepsy, since he remembered everything, and besides there was no pathology in his EEG. Did he suffer from some kind of balance disorders or spells of ataxia, so short that he didn't notice them himself?

Law focused his eyes on the little patient, who was staring at him with his blue eyes. "How do you feel?" he asked. "Pain has eased?"

"Yes."

"Is it anything serious, Doctor?" the boy's mother asked.

Anxiety was still visible in her eyes, but no deceit. That woman seemed to read Law's presence as a sign that some dangerous or incurable disease was in question, not as if she were scared that Law would see through her possible game. Law decided that his concern from yesterda: that she could have contributed to the boy's illness, was premature.

"Madame, did you often see Pelo trip?" he asked.

"In last few weeks, yes," she admitted. "But not before."

Law turned to his patient again. "Pelo, did you grow up recently?" he asked just in case; the boy still had a frame of a child. "Sometimes when teenage boys suddenly start to grow up, it takes a while before they get accustomed to their new height. For some weeks or even months, they have to put up with the feeling their arms and legs are too long, and it's hard to move normally."

The boy, however, shook his head, as did his mother.

"Okay. In that case I must examine you. It won't be painful," he announced. "You're not going to feel anything at all. ROOM."

He surrounded the boy and himself with the sphere of another dimension and looked into his organism with his Ope Ope no Mi vision. One of the most useful function of his Devil Fruit was that it drew the user's attention to every pathological process in the body of the examined person; now, too, the first thing Law 'saw' was the inflammatory zone around the right wrist. He looked closely at the bone tissue but didn't find anything abnormal. The boy's bones were of a healthy structure, as were his joints and muscles. Circulatory and respiratory systems were working properly. There was nothing untypical in the nerves and brain tissue either; he thoroughly examined cerebellum and extrapyramidal system as they were responsible for the equilibrium and muscle tone. Everything was in perfect order, he had no doubt about it. There was still one option: he was dealing with a disease that hadn't caused any pathological changes so far, but he found it microscopical. At present, there was nothing in the boy's organism that could be cured with the Ope Ope no Mi, and if he trusted anything in this world, it was his Devil Fruit.

"There's nothing wrong with your organism," he said after the examination was over.

Pelo stared at him in disbelief. "So soon?" he asked, frowning, and cast his mother a furtive look.

"Doctor Law has such skills," she explained and stroke his tousled hair. Her relief was obvious.

Law smiled lightly. "Just think that I have an X-ray vision," he stated. "Listen, Pelo. I scanned your body for anomalies but didn't find any. We feared that your frequent fractures might result from some disease, but it seems that you were just unlucky. We must hope that you've already spent your share of misfortune. Our surgeons are going to put your wrist together today, and soon you will be able to go home."

"Thank you, Doctor," the boy's mother said. "Really, thank you. I hope it's the last time we are here," she added with a shy smile.

Law was almost ashamed of his suspicions from the previous day. That woman clearly cared for her child, it could be seen in her gestures and reactions. Nevertheless, he knew that they could never be too careful; until now, they'd had several cases of Munchausen syndrome, a disorder when a parent either fabricated their child's symptoms or made them fall ill in order to extort examination and hospitalisation. Single mothers whose life concentrated on their offspring, were the risk group... but that woman with light brown hair and blue eyes wasn't one of them.

Law wrote 'Examined with OOnM, no pathology, no further examination' in the patient record, ending with a doodle that was his signature, and took his leave. It seemed that this time Bepo had 'bothered him for nothing', indeed. It was good.

In the corridor he bumped into Kaya - or, rather, she bumped into him. Well, he couldn't blame her; he'd appeared right before her, and she'd had no time to stop. He grabbed her by her arms before she fell.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, then raised her head and saw him. "Director Law...!"

A light blush covered her cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in her smile, only pure sympathy. It was mutual. Everyone in this hospital admired Kaya, both staff and the patients, for her very presence could raise people's spirits.

"I didn't know you were still here," she said. "I can hardly ever catch you."

"Bepo asked me to have a look at the boy he'd admitted yesterday," he explained.

"And I'm on my way from that girl you operated today," she informed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "It's the third case already, and I'm still deeply impressed. You gave her a new body! The Ope Ope no Mi never ceases to amaze me. How you use it is a mastery. Thank you for what you do for those children," she added sincerely.

"You do no less than I," he replied. "I'm of the opinion that doctors without any supernatural powers deserve much more credit. Everything's fine on the ward? Do you have enough beds?"

"We manage somehow," she answered, and her smile reached her eyes. "But don't let me keep you any longer. I start a round in a minute, too. Have a nice day!" she said, then nodded and went to the nurses.

Law followed her slender figure with his eyes before resuming his walk. Just like he'd told the boys before, even though many doctors in this hospital had used to be pirates, Kaya had never been one of them. Yet, that petite woman had strength of a warrior, and she was much more complex person than it seemed at the first sight. She was delicate and tender, and her fair complexity and blond hair along with her gentle disposition only contributed to the ethereal impression she made. To her patients, she seemed a real angel, always patient, always caring and filled with a need to help, but that angel had great organisational skills, too. Despite young age - she had just turned thirty - Kaya managed the whole paediatric department of the Corazon Memorial Hospital and did it perfectly. Her ward had the highest satisfaction rate among the personnel and was considered the best workplace in the hospital.

Law knew that Kaya had once wanted to be a surgeon, but his personal opinion was that her present specialisation was much better choice. It wasn't about her being a woman - as surgery demanded a physical strength, she was too frail to perform major operations - but about the fact she loved children and always put their welfare first. Because of that, she constantly raised qualifications, both her own and her workers', and inspired the students and residents. She also had natural skills of handling children and greatly developed medical intuition, and she always knew what to do. All in all, she was the right person in the right place.

Law recollected the times when the Corazon Memorial Hospital had just started functioning. Usopp had introduced his then fiancée to him, as she'd wished to work in the unique clinic on Raftel. Kaya had looked like a teenage girl, making it hard to believe she'd been a full-fledged doctor already. Her eyes, however, had been filled with determination, and the short conversation had convinced Law that, hiring her, he would only gain. He'd entrusted her with managing the paediatric floor and hadn't regretted it even once during the next ten years.

He took the elevator to the first level. It seemed that the storm was over, although the day continued to be cloudy. Well, Law hardly ever went outside - actually, his only contact with the fresh air happened on the balcony of his office - and thus he cared little about the weather. He knew, however, that most people were affected by the external conditions. Long ago, he'd used to be like them, and even now he would sometimes experience that long forgotten feeling of irritation on the winter days. He remembered that in his younger years snow could made him upset and disturb his concentration.

Penguin and Shachi were ready for the operation. When still in the corridor, he heard their talk, strangely fitting the topic he'd just pondered on.

"I tell you, always the same bad luck," Shachi complained. "Lilja has free evening today, and the kids stays in her mother's place. We planned a picnic on the beach and a romantic cruise around the bay under the stars, and now the weather is terrible."

"They forecasted that storm for two days already," Penguin noticed.

"Aren't we wise, now? The shift list is made one month in advance. It's not like she can have a free day when it happens to be sunny. Spare yourself such comments," Shachi scolded him.

"You can never tell in autumn. No point in assuming the weather will be great. Instead of a picnic, take her to the All Baratie, and for the cruise... Go to the cinema," Penguin suggested. "At least she won't be cold. Women don't like to be cold," he stressed. "Maybe that will make her put on some dress and high heels instead of an oiler and wellies. You can have picnics in the summer, as much as you want."

Shachi muttered something under his breath, but without his earlier exasperation; he apparently considered the suggestion. When Law entered the room, the redhead was already wearing a dreamy expression; no doubt he was imagining his wife in a dress. Penguin had to nudge him in order to stop those pleasant visions and call him back to the present. After all, they were at work and had things to do.

The surgeries went without any complication and were finished in due time. Going for lunch, Law was pretty hungry already. He filled his plate with a nice amount of rice with chicken and salad... and then bumped into Kaya again. Thanks to his reflexes, the trays filled with the dishes were saved.

"I'm sorry!" she called, and he sniggered.

"Apparently, we must bump into each other today."

They took a table by the window. The day outside was dull; the sky and the sea were merged into one blur of grey. The canteen, however, was warm and pleasant. Law eagerly began eating.

"I was thinking about what you told me this morning," Kaya said, pushing away the empty salad plate. "That normal doctors deserve more credit... Do you really think so?"

Law gave her an astonished look and then nodded. "It makes more sense," he replied. "What I do is mostly the act of the Ope Ope no Mi. Other doctors use their own medical skills."

"But you are able to use the Ope Ope no Mi exactly because you have an outstanding medical knowledge," Kaya pointed out. "I don't think eating the Ope Ope no Mi automatically made you a great doctor, right?"

"It still doesn't mean that I should be overly proud of myself," he replied.

"I'm not talking about being overly proud," she objected. "Rather... it seems to me you don't value yourself much, even though we all admire you."

Law ate in silence, giving her an intent look. Kaya drank some water and resumed eating, but soon she spoke again. "Miria... That is, that resident who was on your consultations yesterday... I talked to her, just like you'd asked me. She said something that got me thinking, and your words of today match it in a disturbing way, too. She said, 'Doctor Law is quite different from how I imagined him. I thought he would be mad at me because I was so nervous and could barely speak. Actually, I'd feel better if he were mad at me. But he only calmly asked his questions and answered mine. Afterwards, I felt even worse. Someone like him, the greatest doctor of our times, should be more bossy and pummel wimps of my kind into submission right away. He shouldn't sit on the platform and pretend to be a normal human, like us'."

Instead of standing like a lecturer in a pulpit, Law used to take a chair; sometimes, he even sat down cross-legged on the desk, facing the participants. He did it to remove barriers between other doctors and himself, and now he learned that something like that wasn't welcome. Well, no-one could accommodate everyone; that truth was as old as time.

"Of course, we don't want you to be arrogant," the head of the paediatric department went on. "But there's a great difference between being arrogant and valuing yourself. After Miria's words, I started to think of the image of you I had in my head. And the longer I thought, the stronger impression I had that you don't think of yourself as someone exceptional, but also consider yourself... an extra to the Ope Ope no Mi. A person of no significance as a human being..." she said in a quiet voice, pensive. Then she started and looked up. "I'm sorry I said such things. I didn't want to insult you, while it could sound like that."

Law reached for his tea and drank it, silent. He hadn't expected to hear from her, that delicacy incarnate, such a thing, but it didn't mean he felt offended. Even though she was wrong.

"If it helps," he finally spoke, "I like my job very much, and I'm glad to be able to help others. I wanted to be a doctor as a kid already... No, I intended to be one, didn't imagine myself do anything else. I'm happy I can follow this profession... and I'm happy to have the Ope Ope no Mi, that makes me cure the ill so well."

"You know, you haven't really answered my guess...?" he said, and her gaze was very focused.

"I haven't?" he was surprised.

She shook her head.

"In that case, I've no idea what kind of answer you'd like to get."

"I don't think it's about how you say it," she replied gently.

"If you suggest that I should run the consultations from the pulpit, eat my meals in my office and generally show myself to normal people as little as possible, then let me tell you I won't," he warned.

She shook her head again. "I told you we don't want you to become arrogant," she repeated. "Why won't you just say-" Her words were interrupted by a slight sound of ringing. It was the beeper in her coat; she was being urgently called back to the ward. She drank the water from her glass, then got up and took the tray. "In any case, I hope I'm wrong," she decided. "And that you realise you're not only a great doctor but also a good man."

She left him with that idea and rushed to the exit. Law stared outside, finishing his tea. Some part of him was grateful - anyone would be happy to be told such nice words - but other wasn't moved at all. He knew the best he wasn't... had never been a good man. He'd committed too many crimes... had allowed too many losses to happen so that he could consider himself one. Even if now he did good, it was but an atonement for sins of the past. He wasn't a good man - but he was decent enough to face the wrong he'd done and atone for it. He couldn't imagine doing otherwise.

He no longer pondered on it, however, only headed for the consultations where he behaved like always, just as he'd announced to Kaya. He didn't have the faintest intention to change his custom or demeanour, even if they amazed some doctors, especially those new. He knew that, sooner or later, they would grow used to his manner and cease paying it attention.

He passed the next few hours admitting new patients. However, he finished sooner than he'd expected, and frowned upon realising it. There was one more referral on his desk, along with the empty chart, but the patient himself was nowhere to be found; the corridor outside Law's office was empty. It was rare for the patients to skip the appointment that their health, and often life, too, depended.

"Elle," he asked his secretary in the adjacent room. "Could you please find out what happened to Mr Peson?" he ordered, handing her the documents. "I was supposed to admit him today."

"Of course."

The woman first searched the list of all in-patients - it sometimes happened that the patient had been admitted to the hospital before his scheduled admission - but she didn't find the name. She then moved the Den Den Mushi closer and dialled the number that was written in the referral. Law stood by the window, watching the cloudy day turn into a cloudy evening, and listened to her voice. To preserve the confidentiality, the specific type of the Den Den Mushi was used, the one that made the words of the other's side mute, audible only to the caller.

"I'm calling from the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Ratfel. I would like to speak to Mr Peson. Ah, I see... I see, yes. I'm so sorry. We offer our condolences. Yes. Yes. I will. Good bye."

She hung up and looked at him.

"Mr Peson died the day before yesterday," she said, although there was actually no need.

Law had already expected that. The main reason why the patient missed their appointment was that he or she hadn't lived to see it. Of course, occasionally other things were at fault, like problems with transportation or getting the time wrong, but it happened rarely, even though Law would rather the ratio be inverse.

"Thank you," he said and turned away. He didn't want to see the secretary put the papers in the box containing the documents to be disposed of. He returned to his office and stopped by his desk, then opened the balcony door and went out. The air was moist and cold, unpleasant... but if fitted his mood.

He hated it when a patient had died before he'd managed to cure him or her. He knew he could do nothing about it, but he felt down every time that happened, nevertheless. Normally, he tried not to think of all those people whom death had taken too early; they were hundreds and thousands of them... But in these specific cases, when the patient had already had appointment, had been on the list of people ready for treatment, practically within reach of the Ope Ope no Mi... Law always felt dejected and guilty, and he could do nothing about it. It was hard to know that if he'd managed to admit that person earlier, he or she would have been enjoying their recovery now.

'You're not an almighty god,' he used to tell himself, trying to correct his way of thinking and provide himself with the needed distance... but, instead of feeling humble, awareness of his own imperfection filled him with anger and sense of defeat. 'You saved several people today,' he repeated in thought, trying to remember those he'd operated on this very morning... but in vain, for his brain had got in a loop because of this single one that had died before coming to the hospital. All success, all victories lost significance when faced with one defeat, even if he rationally knew he shouldn't see it this way.

He had a sudden urge to go back to his secretary and ask her to advance all admissions from the day after tomorrow to tomorrow. In the last second, he refrained himself from doing so. Elle must have already left home... and, besides, he wouldn't be able to treat twice as many patients he did presently. He probably wouldn't. Or would he...? Maybe if he applied himself to it, cut his lunch break short, stopped chatting with the kids... He surely could do something to arrange more time for treatment.

He put his elbows on the railing and pressed his forehead to his hands. He felt tired, although he knew that physically everything was right with him. Dejection, however, had the unpleasant ability to suck all strength from the man. No matter how he tried to do good, sooner or later situations like this one happened. No matter how many people he'd managed to help, days like this one always came, and it seemed to him he killed someone again...

He thought he could hear the door to his office open, but before he managed to take an interest in it, a furry hand fell on his head. "I bet you had some very stupid thoughts now," Bepo said.

Law straightened and looked at him. "And you have some kind of a radar...?" he declared half-ironically, half-seriously. "You sense humans' mood."

"It was impolite. It sounded like I were some pet," the mink replied. "No, I met your secretary downstairs. She told me you're despondent."

"How can she know that?" Law grunted, although he knew he sounded childish.

"How may years has she worked with you" Bepo replied with another question. "It's always her to give you the bad news. She knows as well as I how you react to them, even if you don't show it."

Law stared at the darkening sea again. The pale points of the gulls kept moving up and down over the coastal waters that after storm must have filled with fish, all that accompanied by the piercing cries. Now, that sorrowful clangour perfectly resonated with his mood. "Why can't I use the Ope Ope no Mi like I wish?" he asked.

"The last time I saw it, you were using it exactly that way...?" Bepo responded at once.

"What's the point in having the Ope Ope no Mi if I'm not able to cure all people?" Law muttered.

Bepo patted him on his head again and then grabbed him by the elbow. "Come, you'll have some hot chocolate to clear your head," he decided.

"I'm not a kid..."

"Yeah... And it seems to me you weren't one long enough anyway... And in that case, you haven't had your share of cocoa yet."

In the end, Law let Bepo drag him to the canteen - in was on the same floor - although he told himself it would be just a few minutes. He even allowed Bepo to really bring him that hot chocolate.

"What's that rubbish about the Ope Ope no Mi?" the mink asked, sitting down with his own cup. "I'm sorry but what you said didn't sound wise. Actually, it sounded extremely stupid."

Law shrugged and blew on his cocoa, then took one sip. "I just don't like it when patients die on me... Okay?"

"Not okay. Patients don't die on you," Bepo corrected him. "We know each other since we were kids, and I haven's seen a single patient dying on you."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"And you know you're not responsible for all people in the world."

"If I'd admitted him sooner-"

"Then maybe we should change our rules," the mink interrupted him, "so that the patients don't need to wait for the appointed day, only are sent here as soon as their doctor assesses they require the Ope Ope no Mi."

Law blinked and stared at him in surprise. "Can we do this?" he asked.

"You're a director here," Bepo pointed out. "It's for you to decide. But if we consider our hospital to be the best in the world - and I think we may assume it to be the case since we have the cure rate of one hundred and mortality rate zero percent - then we should be able to keep even the severely ill patient alive until you could examine and treat them. I don't think we'll be flooded, but we still will need a new wing and employ more people if we're going to admit more patients. It can be done, right?"

Law nodded, deep in thought. He felt his mind start working properly, like always when a task he could focus on appeared. It was much better than wallowing in unproductive dejection. Building a 'waiting ward' for the patients wasn't a problem, nor was to increase the personnel; the Corazon Memorial Hospital was a place where people wished to work, and the supply of human resources was higher than demand.

"But mind it that even this won't guarantee than no-one would die," Bepo added.

"I know. But at least it would happen rarely," Law replied animatedly and then focused his eyes on the mink. "It's a brilliant idea. Why didn't I think of it myself?"

Bepo shrugged. "Maybe you kept focusing on wrong things," he muttered somewhat mockingly, which was extremely rare in his case.

"Apparently," Law agreed with a wry smile. His mood was much better than just a quarter ago. He could do nothing about those who'd died already, but he could do something to limit such premature deaths from happening, from now on. "Thanks for that. I think it's going to ease my mind."

The mink said nothing. He stared at the table, twiddling the empty cup in his fingers. He didn't look like someone who'd just had a great idea. If Law's mood improved, then Bepo seemed quite upset now.

Law frowned, trying to guess the reason. "What's wrong?" he asked in the end, aware that if he didn't know, it would gnaw at him. He didn't want to offend Bepo, of all people.

Bepo raised his head and looked at him for a moment with the searching, sharp eyes. "I wonder how I should make it that you didn't have more work than you already have," he answered finally.

Law waved his hand. "That is what you worry about?"

"Of course I do."

"Come on, everything will be fine," Law replied lightly. For him, it was the least important thing.

"If I hadn't known you better I'd say the Pirate King have a bad influence on you," Bepo muttered and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "That is the most important thing. You already work too much. Even if using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment consumes less energy than fighting, it still exhausts you. You can't expect me to be happy because of having thought more work for you."

"Less is an overshoot," Law corrected. "Treatment and fighting can't even be compared, believe me."

Bepo, however, didn't seem comforted. "In any case, I'm going to watch you," he announced. "You already work too much," he said again.

"Because only I have the Ope Ope no Mi. The problem is I can't use it as much as I'd like," he repeated his own words. "So-"

"Why do you always have to see everything through that Devil Fruit of yours?" the mink interrupted. "It's as if 'Trafalgar Law' equalled the 'Ope Ope no Mi'."

"Well, because... it does?"

Bepo rose abruptly. He opened his mouth to retort, but then he only shook his head. "I'm going down," he declared and added, "I'm glad you feel better," and if it'd been anyone else speaking, Law would've thought he could hear irony in those words. Then the mink turned to left the canteen, without sparing him any look. Normally, Law would be concerned about his friend's foul mood, but this time he had other things on his mind, and besides he was of the opinion that Bepo's concern was excessive.

On his way to his office, he thought he sometimes didn't understand other people. He couldn't comprehend why it was so hard to accept how he looked at his life and how he acted, even though his way of being was obvious. Why did they keep trying to turn him into someone else? Why did they stubbornly tried to put him in roles that differed from the one that was destined for him? He was under the impression that recently all around him had focused only on that: Bepo, Kaya, Ikkaku, even Luffy. Why couldn't they just leave him be with his Devil Fruit... why did they seem to treat the humanity's greatest good as something evil? He was almost offended by that, because the Ope Ope no Mi, before it had saved anyone else, first had saved him. If not for the Ope Ope no Mi, Trafalgar Law wouldn't be here, and thus such a criticism almost hurt him.

He told himself he could do nothing about other people's feeling; he could only accept that those around him had different opinion. They couldn't possibly mean anything wrong, and he shouldn't worry about it, he explained himself. Maybe it was his birthday that had provoked them to such reflection; celebrating someone's birthday meant to feel the time passing and prompted people to wonder about life, right? In that case, chances were everything would go back to normal soon, and that was what he comforted himself with.

When he sat down by his desk and moved closer the pile of documents, he stopped bothering his head about those thing, as with the Bepo's idea to enlarge the hospital. He could think of it tomorrow. Now he focused on the patient cases, relieved at the familiar and desired feeling that he was doing something meaningful.