Chapter 6
November wasn't Law's favourite month; actually, it was one of those he liked the least. It was in November that the first snow usually fell on Raftel; it also marked Corazon's death anniversary. Law didn't use any other calendar than the one in his head, which meant he didn't have the encircled date he would stare at every day sitting by his desk, but he was still painfully aware That Day would come this year too. And since it was the end of the month in question, he had almost four weeks of foul mood caused by reflecting and reminiscing that he could do nothing about; they would come against his will.
Fortunately, he hadn't much time to allow himself prolonged reflecting and reminiscing. He filled his days with the patient work; in addition, this year he had plans of expansion of the hospital and increasing the number of the admissions on his hand. Of course, he didn't attend to it himself - a project director had been hired - but he demanded that the most important aspects were consulted with him. He made it the springboard for all less cheerful topics and issues. If there was possibility of curing even more patients, it was good enough reason for Law to feel content, and he needed that.
His relation with Bepo returned to normal as soon as the next day after their argument, although Law thought an 'argument' wasn't the right word to describe the situation he'd behaved like a total git in... In any case, they continued dealing with one another as if nothing had happened, and that suited Law the best. On the one hand, he knew Bepo hadn't deserved such treatment, but on the other... He felt he was right. What he'd said was his own sincere view, not something he'd made up on the spot to fit the conversation.
Law didn't consider himself to be someone who attacked other people on a whim; he felt he'd been provoked to say what he'd said. He couldn't accept that someone else told him how he should live, no matter the reason. To be able to decide for himself was the supreme value to him, and the thought he might lose that control filled him with anxiety. Maybe it too resulted from the Amber Lead Syndrome, that had once robbed him of everything he'd held dear. It made sense that the damned illness, despite having been defeated, could affect his life even now, after all those years.
Moreover, whenever his decisions were being questioned - when someone didn't agree with him, leading to confrontation - he saw it as a criticism or even an assault. He was used to his infallibility. And even if he knew that being the greatest expert in the medical field didn't automatically equalled being the wisest man in the world, he still regarded himself smart enough to be right also about other aspects of his life. When others thought they knew him better... when they gave him their advices, even out of good will... he received it as, 'You're stupid'. Trafalgar Law didn't like to be considered stupid, and if there was anything he was proud of, it would be his intellect.
Clione would probably tell him he'd got it all wrong... but Law avoided the head psychiatrist as much as possible. He didn't want to hear the words of wisdom about himself anymore, and he didn't believe Clione might tell him anything that would be to his benefit. Their conversation from the last month, even though he tried not to think of it, was still on his mind and used to return to him in the least expected - and desired - moments.
The truth was he didn't see any sense to his life. Nothing had changed about it for twenty-six years: he lived only because of the Ope Ope no Mi. If not for the Ope Ope no Mi, he wouldn't have lived until his fourteenth birthday... and if not for the Ope Ope no Mi, he would have killed himself before his fourteenth birthday, back then, on Minion. Corazon's death had touched him in every possible way and changed him forever. It had left him alone in the world, without a single friendly soul, but with the sense of guilt he'd never managed to get rid of. Cora-san had lost his life to save him, even when it was Trafalgar Law who should have died. Cora-san, the best, the greatest man under the sun had gone to meet death with a smile, as if it had been nothing, even though he'd had the whole future ahead. No, after that nothing could be the same.
That time Law, although he hadn't wished anything but to join Corazon, somehow had managed to quell that feeling of guilt and had decided to accept the gift of life that had come to him for an extremely high price. He'd managed to convince himself that only living he would be able to honour Corazon, even if it'd seemed the biggest injustice in the world. So, he'd done everything to survive and had found himself, for the next thirteen years, a surrogate sense of life: vengeance against Doflamingo. For those thirteen years, he'd forgotten about his remorse, pushing it deep into his unconsciousness. He'd cut himself off that little boy who'd lost everything dear and couldn't see any value in what he'd got instead. He'd figured out and mastered the Ope Ope no Mi, developing to perfection every skill the Devil Fruit had given him. He'd devoted his whole time to create and the execute the plan, its final aim being the downfall of the hated enemy. He'd convinced himself it was Doflamingo who'd pulled the trigger, and had forgotten that it had happened because of him, Trafalgar D. Water Law.
And later, when Doflamingo had been brought to his knees and stripped of his power, then Law had had to once again flee from that emptiness in his heart, pushing against him from every side and threatening to engulf him. He'd become the greatest doctor in the world and started to use the Ope Ope no Mi to help others. He'd opened the Corazon Memorial Hospital so that with every moment and every deed he could honour the man who'd sacrificed everything for him. He'd engaged fully in treating and saving human lives. Just like Cora-san before, he too had wanted to show that there was nothing larger than life.
However, just like Clione had said, there was no joy to that, just sense of duty, There was no happiness, just realisation that he was doing what he should. As long as everything went well, he felt stable, but when something deviated from the norm he'd set, he started to feel anxious. Usually, he didn't think of all those things; he managed to conveniently forget about the deeper motives of his actions and delude himself that everything is like he wanted. The more work he had, the less time to think or wonder about his life. He went to bed past midnight and rose before 4 AM. He talked more to the patients than to the colleagues. He used the Ope Ope no Mi and sometimes only his brain to practise medicine. He didn't spoke of his past; no, he never really recalled it. And Cora-san... He'd built the memorial of him, so that he didn't need to think of him anymore, for the memory of love would always tear his heart to pieces.
All those were defence mechanisms, barriers he'd erected around his tormented soul to be able to function. And it was all in vain, for he kept facing the situations when someone destroyed them, sometimes unconsciously, with a single random word. They would show Law his own soul, force him to look at that ruin and that emptiness that had eaten almost everything and still hadn't enough. In such moments, Law turned into that thirteen-year-old boy, who had had to choose between life and death on Minion.
So far, every time he'd chosen life. So far, he'd managed to convince himself he should live, for it was what mattered. As long as he had something he could give others - as long as some good could be done in this world, even the smallest one - he should just move on. He didn't even assume that something good might happen to him; he saw his existence as a penalty and didn't believe he could ever atone for his crime of bringing death to Corazon. However, he realised that every time it was a bit harder to choose, to motivate himself to life... and unconsciously he felt relieved waiting for the day he would tell himself, 'Enough'.
But it wouldn't happen this day, this month, this year yet. In the fortieth November of his life, he once more managed to close that wound, let it be covered with the thin layer of clot, and believed it would heal just right; he'd once more managed to push all painful things into his subconscious, as if they'd never existed. It took him one week or so, and during that time he was so gloomy that most employers approached him only when it was absolutely necessary, and only Bepo kept him company like before, although even he didn't try to force him into conversation. If Law could find any positives about the situation, it would be the fact that all 'friendly' remarks he'd had to listen for the whole previous month, finally ended.
November was passing quite normally in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, and the only incident worth mentioning was a massacre that the Roronoa Zoro Sword Tournament ended in. Law didn't remember who had come with the idea of the annual event that then had started to take place on Raftel on Zoro's birthday, but most certainly it wasn't the former first mate of the Straw Hat Crew. Suffice it to say that the tournament used to gather the participants from all seas, who, in this particular place at the end of the world, wished to have their names engraved in gold as victors and prove the greatest swordsman in the history that he had worthy successors... or that he should be careful not to let himself be pushed down from the pedestal of the undefeated. It didn't matter that Zoro was usually off Raftel... although Law suspected that even if he were here, he wouldn't care about those games more than about his afternoon nap.
This time, however, Law wished Zoro had been here. He was perfectly certain that the man wouldn't have allowed the slaughter that happened because of the cursed sword brought by one of the participants, although the correct way to describe this would be that the sword used the man. Before he was restrained, the poor fellow managed to cut over twenty people. The victims were saved only because the medical team covering the event had wit enough to contact the hospital immediately, and Law appeared on site just a few seconds later. He hoped that incident would teach the organisers to have a better look at the weapons the participants came with, or to protect the event in a more proficient way. That the tournament itself would pass into history, he had no hopes for. Like the ancients used to say: people needed bread and circuses.
In the end of November, there was still no snow on the Pirate King's island, at least not in its lower parts, for the usually misty mountains always welcomed winter earlier. One day, something white did sprinkled down from the sky for a few hours, but Law was too busy to admire the scenery outside, and in the evening, when he went onto the balcony, the ground was again nicely dark, as were the trees. Autumn this year had been mild and warm, and without any bigger storms that would give the hospital more work. There were no disasters either, not that Law expected them. Even if he had the greatest feeling saving lives, he'd rather not have people suffer.
When the month was reaching its end, That Day finally came. Law had tried not to think of it, but he subconsciously had been awaiting it - with hope he would be able to regain his earlier balance and maybe for another year forget those matters that unpleasantly gnawed at his mind and didn't let him calm down. Every year, meeting Sengoku-san filled him with the conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he would gladly left his past behind and never return to it... but on the other hand, it seemed to him that, no matter how he denied it, he needed that occasion to talk about Corazon with the only person he could to. Somehow, when with Sengoku-san, the memories didn't tear him to pieces, only soothed his longing and pain, if only for a single evening. That was why, even though sometimes he hoped that the retired admiral would call and inform he wouldn't come to Raftel this year - after all, he was already over ninety - the old man's sight drew very warm feelings inside him every time.
He held Sengoku-san in high esteem, one he hadn't felt towards anyone else. Deep inside, he suspected that he needed some kind of an authority figure, for he'd never cleared the stage of securely detaching from those older and wiser; he'd lost all of them too early, too suddenly. Or maybe something in his personality - even though he considered himself to be a self-sufficient man, valuing his personal freedom the most - wished for a larger person he could sometimes lean on, just a bit, just in his mind, and feel relieved there was someone above him to approve his decisions.
Almost everything divided them: age, social status, views, and yet what connected them was much more important and had created the bridge over the gulf of differences. Sengoku-san was the first person Law had told about his dream of the hospital on Raftel and had received support from. Actually, he'd received much more, above all the assurance he wasn't the most wretched man in the history, like he'd often believed. If the retired admiral still wanted to visit him, year by year setting on a long journey to the end of the world, only to meet the man his son had died because of... it somehow comforted him. Speaking to Sengoku-san, he could believe, if only for a few hours, that love begot only good, never evil, just like the old man had once said.
It was 3 PM sharp when Law was standing by the hospital gate, paying no attention to the frost nipping at his ears. With the temperature just below zero, the day was fine, and the window had calmed. Listening to the screams of the gulls, he was watching out for his guest on the way from the harbour. He'd many times offered Sengoku-san to pick him up or provide the transportation, but the retired admiral would always answer that he didn't want to be treated like a decrepit old man; his body was agile enough to have a short walk, and his mind was still bright so he remembered the way. With equal enthusiasm he related to Law's suggestion that they sat in the warmer place. In late November, they would find quite a few more pleasant locations that the yard of a hospital that was standing on the sea coast, but Sengoku-san, just like Law himself, seemed to be insensitive to cold and insisted on spending those few hours in the arbour that provided them with the good outlook at the front of the hospital and the signboard over the main entrance.
Soon, Law could spot the big frame of the former Fleet Admiral of the Navy emerging from behind the bend. Sengoku was approaching at a leisurely pace, and even from the distance it was obvious he was in a good mood. Seeing his host in the gate, he raised one hand and waved, and Law felt warmth tickling him in the chest, even though he felt like rolling his eyes at the same time. Once again, he realised that for Sengoku-san this day and this meeting weren't an observance of grieving. The man who had become Cora-san's... Donquixote Rosinante's new father, had long since accepted his son's death. Law wished he could say the same about himself.
"Hello, hello!" the elderly gentleman called out, waving with the bag he probably had various snacks in. "It's a fine day, don't you think?"
"Good afternoon, Sengoku-san. As for the weather... Every will do, as long as there's no snow," Law greeted him.
When the former admiral came closer, he invited him to the hospital grounds. As they walked towards the familiar arbour, he quickly surveyed his guest and was relieved to see the man looked as healthy as he had the last time. In fact, Sengoku the Budda had hardly ever aged during those years Law had known him; only his white hair and wrinkles around his eyes indicated how old he was. He held up great for a man who was over ninety. His back was straight, his body was still muscular, and his mind was bright and hungry for knowledge. It was with delight that Law always listened to the stories of the retired Marine's new objects of interest.
"I hope you had a good journey, Sengoku-san."
"Good and boring," his guest admitted. "But I at least managed to finish reading the detective story series. Afterwards, though, I'm of the opinion it wasn't worthy of my time, so if you ever come across it," he said the title, "I warn you against it. I could tell right away who was the culprit, regardless of the author's efforts to twist the plot in order to pull the wool over the reader's eyes."
It was one of Sengoku's traits Law could never fully comprehend: an unusual vitality the man radiated despite his age. Law suspected, however, that something like that wasn't connected to the person's age at all; some people simply were able to celebrate every moment of their life, never letting the past or the future hinder them. So far, he'd met at least a few men like that, and even though such enthusiasm to live perplexed or annoyed him, he usually, deep inside, admired them and marvelled at them, for they seemed to possess a skill that was unattainable for him.
"Sengoku-san, I'm glad to see you're healthy," he sad once they'd settled in the familiar arbour he always reserved for that one afternoon. "You're bursting with the joy of life, which I find desirable, as a doctor."
"It's easy to feel the joy of life when one has retired," the ninety-two-year-old man replied, giving him an intent look. "No worries, no troubles... If you suggest I was so happy-go-lucky during my active service, then I must disappoint you. Most people in my surroundings considered me to be an antisocial grouch or gloomy bear."
Law found it difficult to imagine that someone wearing the colourful shirts with the fancy patterns could be considered glum, but he didn't comment. He opened the thermos with green tea they always started with, before proceeding to the hard liquors, and poured it to the two mugs. In the meantime, Sengoku unpacked his luggage; like always, he brought a lot of rice crackers, but also some completely new snacks. He liked to experiment.
"Just look at this, sweet potato and red bean flavoured cookies. Have you ever seen anything like that?" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, reading the etiquettes. "Chocolate with chilli, bless my soul... And here we have balls with fazifa... What is fazifa?"
"I have no idea," Law replied truthfully. It seemed that his guest had just swept the content of the snack shelf into his bag, without paying attention to the products. "Sengoku-san, you shouldn't buy food that you don't know even their names..."
"Come on, the name isn't important... What matters is how it tastes. And that fazifa," the former Fleet Admiral drew the package closer to his eyes, "is the latest thing in the West Blue. You should try something at least once; only then you will know if you haven't just missed something extraordinary," he said smoothly and reached for the mug.
Law could understand the idea, but personally he preferred to stick to what he knew well. Routine helped to avoid disappointment...
"Good tea," Sengoku approved, adding, "Every year the same."
...although maybe not everyone liked it. "You'd rather have another one?" Law asked faintly.
Sengoku stared at him closely. "I said it's good," he reminded, taking a handful of crackers. "You know I'm an admirer of sencha, and nothing beats that from Wano, quality-wise. It fits our meal perfectly, too."
Law drank his tea, observing the retired admiral feast on the rice crackers.
"You should have some, too, there's more than enough," Sengoku urged him, pushing the bag in Law's direction. "In the hospital, everything is all right?" he asked and then added in a somewhat critical way, "At least it's still standing. It's a success, so close to the Pirate King..."
Every year, they would talk about the same things - Raftel and the Corazon Memorial Hospital, about the pirates and the politics, about the past and the future, even about drinks and food - and yet Law didn't mind it in the slightest. Normally, he avoided such topics, considering them to be waste of time, but discussing them with Sengoku-san came naturally to him... maybe because he hadn't bothered his head with them for the whole year.
"You have too poor opinion of him," he said, taking one brown cookie and biting it. "Even Straw Hat wouldn't destroy his own island."
"I will always consider him a chaos incarnate. Or maybe I spent too much time with his grandfather," Sengoku admitted. "It seems to me I look at Grap in his younger days. The very same bravado in combination with inhuman strength. Do you know how Garp used to sink the pirate ships? He threw the cannonballs at them. Can you imagine?" he asked with fake outrage.
Law could. Straw Hat Luffy, too, never cared about making any detailed plan for his attack, and instead he usually started with banging his enemies with a rubber cannonade. Apparently, such things were hereditary.
"The hospital is fine," he said. "We plan to build an additional wing and increase the number of admissions."
"Are you not going to have any trouble recruiting new personnel? You do plan to employ more people, right?"
"Of course. No, there should be no problem. People are actually lining up to work here; we can't employ everyone."
"No wonder since it's the best hospital in the history in question," Sengoku muttered, glancing at him. "By the way, I read about that catastrophe last month, that was terrible... People shouldn't get killed during peacetime... The only good thing is that the Ministry of Labour started to set quality standards for the factory buildings," he informed. "Everyone planning to open a workplace would have to meet those standards in order to get permission. Maybe it will guarantee that such tragedies won't happen in the future."
Law nodded. Even though those who had died on Segvel couldn't be brought to life, if their deaths could prevent new ones, it was without doubt a good thing. Once again, he appreciated the fact that the public media existed; it seemed that the exposure of that incident had forced some actions that would be beneficial for the citizens. "It's good to know that the government is on the side of citizens... that there are finally incorrupt people in power," he said.
Sengoku gave him a disbelieving look and drank some tea. "In every government... No, in every organisation are corrupt people," he said in a tone as if he was explaining it to a kid. "There's no such thing like perfect authorities, even if someone basically honest, like Sabo, stands at the top. Important is that those dishonest don't form majority... that there's more decent people." He ate a few cookies before continuing. "I think it's so, now. As you said, the government is on the side of the common people and acts for their benefit, you can see it everywhere. New schools, public hospitals, better care for the disabled, one law for all people... of course, not everyone likes it. In just this year, two attempts on Sabo's life were prevented. No telling how many of them had actually happened, for Sabo never discloses about such things," he muttered. "Well, we must take comfort in knowledge that thanks to his past in the Revolutionary Army he can protect himself from any attack."
Law was eating the crackers in silence. He'd met Sabo in his pirate years already, during the fight with Doflamingo. Luffy's sworn brother had made a good impression on him, mostly because he could think rationally, contrary to that hothead ruling currently on Raftel... although Law suspected he would recognise anyone opposing the usurper of Dressrosa and helping to dethrone him. In any case, after the whole affair with the One Piece and poneglyphs had been over, and the world had stood on the threshold of change, it had appeared that Sabo had been a real visionary. After the revolution and bringing the Celestial Dragons down, Sabo had seemed to be the right candidate to establish new order. And he hadn't failed those hopes, using all his talents to serve the humanity. Sensitive to social abuse as a kid already, he had spared no effort to improve the citizens' lot, and it seemed he'd performed well. At his initiative, the World Government had expanded, which had ensured the protection and help to those countries that couldn't count on it before. Law wasn't surprised that someone like Sabo was an aim of the terrorist attacks, but he had no doubt that the user of the Mera Mera no Mi could ensure his own safety.
"Back to the topic, though... I heard you've saved forty people injured in that catastrophe on Segvel," Sengoku's voice interrupted his musing.
Law winced. "Exaggeration. It was thirty-four," he rectified.
His guest ignored that comment. "And there was that massacre on the sword tournament, too... Media keep rhapsodising over your actions, if only they get some material... And it should be so, you deserve to be famous. Although... You know that someone tried to release a magazine about you? But it published only some crazy stories that had nothing to do with reality, probably being only the editor's wild fantasies. Fortunately, it was quickly discontinued." Law hadn't known, but it was all the same to him. "You give no interviews, so the journalists have no information about you, and how long can you write about that the greatest doctor in the world was once a pirate? It's hardly any sensation, especially now that the piracy is viewed in a much more favourable way..."
"If I were to give interviews, on top of everything, then I probably would have to give up on sleeping," Law said mockingly and then, upon remembering something, looked at Sengoku. "Is it true that they modified the criminal law? And the word 'pirate' was changed to a 'sea robber'?" he asked.
Sengoku nodded. "True, true... Late Fleet Admirals must be turning in their graves," he declared ironically. "But what could you do? People demanded that themselves. The last decade or so clearly showed that a pirate didn't equal a villain. It was the pirates, not all of course, that are the benefactors of the humanity. It was you who had found the One Piece and discovered the historical truth, it was you who triggered the transformation. The Pirate King is an idol for the most kids... Their parents couldn't exactly teach them that he is an evil man, just like earlier, could they? That's why nowadays everyone is allowed to be a pirate... A pirate just means someone living at sea, not a criminal."
Law thought he had never expected such day to come... and yet Monkey D. Luffy could make even something like that possible. The truth was, however, that the Straw Hats, for their part, had never been real criminals. Rather, they'd been freedom fighters and defenders of the downtrodden, just like the Revolutionary Army, that in the end had made coup d'état, turning the world into slightly better place. The Straw Hats had always opposed injustice and never fought for their own gain. Luffy had set out to sea to have an adventure and find friends, and they had just gathered around him and taken his ideals for their own. Luffy was devoid of hatred, although he had no mercy for the wrongdoers and offered them his iron fist. Surprisingly, it sometimes helped to shake some long forgotten remainder of morality out of them.
As a pirate, Law had never been as pure, but he'd taken care that at least his crew hadn't dirtied their hands. Just like the Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates hadn't been formed in order to ravage and loot; technically, their actions had had a noble purpose, although Law didn't want to absolve himself of his past... Either way, there were probably more such 'pirates' out there, who didn't harm anyone, and in that case they should be relieved from the name of the criminals, reserved for those who really wronged others.
"I think it's all to same to Straw Hat," he decided after a moment. "He always had his own view on that matter... he wished to become the Pirate King because it sounded good, and he never wondered about what the Pirate King does, in the first place. Now he has his palace and his queen, and he sometimes even puts his crown on, but that's all. It would never occur to him he should rule over people... he would rather consider it a total hassle."
"Then, what's he actually doing?" Sengoku asked, pouring himself tea from the thermos and opening yet another bag of snacks. "According to Garp, he keeps roaming the seas, is it true? Hey, this fazifa is quite good, you should try, too. A bit too sweet, but it goes nicely with the tea. Then, what about Straw Hat?"
Law shrugged, automatically taking a brown ball from the offered packet. "He really can't stay home for a longer while... but he tries to show himself there from time to time, at least," he informed, remembering his meeting with Luffy in October. He knew that the former Fleet General avoided the Pirate King out of personal reasons... although the latter probably had long since forgotten about their clash in Marineford fifteen years ago. "He even started to bring his kids along on his adventures. I think it's that kind of guy who finds it very easy to be happy with his life."
Sengoku observed him closely for a longer while. "And you?" he finally asked.
Law shrugged again, biting through the chocolate bonbon. It was sweet indeed, but edible thanks to its somewhat bitter and slightly sour filling. "I'm content with my life. In this matter, nothing has happened since the previous time you asked year ago," he replied pointedly. "I too had my dream fulfilled, you know that."
Sengoku slowly nodded and looked at the building of the hospital, its facade almost gleaming in the afternoon sun. "It never ceases to amaze me that you made it happen. Ah, no... It's not that I doubted you," he corrected. "When you first told me about it, I knew right away you were the man capable of seeing it through. As someone who'd defeated Doflamingo, whom even the Navy had never managed to catch... It was easy to believe you could do anything you planned."
"It's not I who defeated Doflamingo," Law corrected automatically.
Sengoku waved his hand. "Stop to belittle yourself. I'm well aware you spent over a decade making and executing the plan aiming at beating him. I'm not mistaken when I think it was you who decided to include Straw Hat in that plan, am I? Even if it was him who dealt the final blow, he wouldn't have achieved that without your preparation and help, that's obvious. By the way, Doflamingo still stays at the sixth level of Impel Down, filling his time with complaints and visions, if you wish to know."
"I don't," Law replied immediately. He had no interest in what his hated enemy did, as long as he was confined in the Underwater Prison, without any chance to return onto the surface. "I hope they keep an eye on him," he added reluctantly.
"Don't worry. Hannyabal has no intention of repeating his predecessor's blunder," Sengoku added in a reassuring voice. "The prison's security is even tighter than before, both in equipment and procedures. And Hannyabal himself... Well, he doesn't have enough imagination to feel distressed by Doflamingo's talk. Behind the bars, even the Celestial Dragon loses his meaning, as does his threats, pleads and offers. Hannybal wouldn't gain anything if he cooperated."
Law nodded; the warden of Impel Down, along with the Seastone, could surely keep the former captain of the Donquixote Family in check. He clenched his teeth; even after all those years... even after executing an elaborate revenge, he couldn't think of the man without fierce hatred. He didn't believe he might stop feeling that way as long as that monster still lived. He grabbed the bottle with the liquor and poured it to two glasses.
"Do you regret letting him live?" Sengoku asked in a lower voice, as is he was reading his thought, and took one glass.
Law shook his head; he didn't know the answer. On the one hand, he still considered it to be unfair that Doflamingo lived while Cora-san was dead, but on the other hand... Luffy was the victor of that fight on Dressrosa, and it was him to decide about the fate of the defeated. In times like this, Law kept telling himself that being confined in the Underwater Prison was far worse than death. Of course, since it was Doflamingo in question, one could never be certain that the business was over... but if push came to shove, Law counted on Luffy to put the man behind the bars again, and with his happy assist.
"In any case," his guest's calm voice reached him, "I'm glad this hospital exists. Back then, thirteen years ago... There were still few things to be happy about. The world, despite having been freed, was in chaos. New order was only being formed, old was being forcibly replaced with new... Many groups wished to secure their deals, and the remnants of the Four Emperors still tried to govern these seas... Even though people wanted to believe things would be better, uncertainty was palpable and frightening. It's not easy to let go of the familiar reality, even if you have something better in a prospect. Man just doesn't like any changes," Sengoku said thoughtful. "And then you opened this hospital, where even a terminally ill person could be cured if only they managed to reach here. You announced you would heal anyone coming here. It was like a hope manifest and made an extremely big impression... did a great deal of good in that time of confusion."
"I assure you, Sengoku-san, it wasn't my intention," Law muttered.
The old admiral shook his head. "Let me praise you, naughty boy!" he said reproachfully. "The truth is you are doing something very good for the world, whether you like it or not. Why do you try so hard to deny it? Being a good guy isn't 'cool', now?" he asked pointedly.
"Sengoku-san, I've never tried to be cool," Law replied with a frown, putting the glass to his lips.
"Yeah, sure... It just came out," his guest said with irony he rarely showed.
Then, however, his gaze turned serious, and Sengoku stared at him in silence for a longer while. Law was drinking his brandy - it warmed his body pleasantly in this cold November afternoon - but that penetrating gaze the old admiral was giving him, eating the crackers at the same time, wouldn't let him relax.
"You're somewhat gloomy today," Sengoku spoke finally. "I mean... more than usually," he added with a bitter frankness. Then he fell silent again, obviously wondering about his next words, before he asked, "Has anything happened...?" cautiously, as if aware that his conversational partner didn't like such questions.
Law said nothing, staring at the reddish liquor in his glass. Dusk was falling, a bit faster it should have, because the day had become clouded in the last moment. The grey layer had covered the sky, obscuring the last sunlight, that normally would have been seen. The gulls were crying over the shore, but it was Sengoku's question still ringing in Law's ears.
"Nothing happened," he finally answered and then, despite himself, added, "Nothing ever happens here. There's no room for surprises in my life," although he didn't know himself whether he was complaining or provoking reality.
"Wait a moment..." Sengoku raised his hand. "I need to think what you mean when speaking like that."
Law curved his lips. "Sengoku-san, don't bother with it..."
The old admiral gave him a sharp look from behind his glasses. "Since I've already troubled myself with coming to this end of the world to see you, I'd rather understand what we are talking about," he decided. "I can tell something's bothering you, but you just won't tell me anything, and I have to get it out of you... But I believe everything is all right in the work...?"
"Of course it is," Law replied at once and only then understood he'd been tricked. He pressed his lips in a thin line.
"Then, if nothing new happened," the voice of his guest was firm, "you fret over something older."
Law glanced at him askance. "Sengkoku-san, please, don't psychoanalyse me," he said reluctantly.
"I don't even know such a word, so spare me that medical language, would you," Sengoku replied, then drank some brandy and mused again. He wasn't, however, taking his eyes off Law, which Law found quite disturbing. "Can it be that you're still tormenting yourself with what I hoped I'd knocked out of your head long ago? You can't feel any ridiculous remorse again...? And imagine some stupid things about yourself?" Law lowered his head. "Drat, I was right... The more I praise you here, the more you belittle yourself."
"Sengoku-san, I just..." How should he put it? "I'm not as good person you consider me to be," he muttered.
"Well, it seems to me that you don't consider yourself as a good person at all," the old admiral replied. "Which, to tell the truth, I can't comprehend. You know how people call you? Miracle-medic, Surgeon of Life, Medicine God... Should I continue?"
Law felt even more uncomfortable. "The fact I'm a doctor and cure people doesn't automatically make me anyone better," he said; that was what he thought. "I know many doctors who are villains... or just wretches. I've met quite a lot of them in my life."
"But you're not a wretch," Sengoku pointed out. "If you had been one, you wouldn't have opened this hospital... you wouldn't have opened its doors to every person in need of the Ope Ope no Mi. If you had been a wretch, you would've been healing only those rich ones who would pay a fortune for your services. By now, you would have been undoubtedly the richest and the most influential man in the world."
"It's not that, Sengoku-san..."
"Then what?"
Law kept silent. What should he say? How should he explain what he felt? And why did he felt urge to explain it, in the first place, instead of saying outright he didn't want to talk about it? Maybe because Sengoku-san thought too much of him. Maybe because he respected the old admiral too much and didn't want him to have delusions. Maybe because...
"You just want to be hated, right?" Sengoku guessed. "You just want that I hate you, don't you? Because you've never forgiven yourself and need to legitimate the contempt you hold yourself in...?"
Law was staring into his own glass, the remainder of brandy glistening at the bottom. What the old admiral was saying... it sounded familiar, it sounded right. And yet, for some reason, it didn't make him feel better.
"You're a naughty boy," Sengoku muttered. "I told you once you shouldn't use me as a mean to deepen your feeling of guilt. And that I didn't plan to hate you. Well, nothing has changed about it," he emphasised and then sighed. "I don't know what to do with you. First Rosinante, now you... What have I done to be punished with such two oddballs...?"
Law's head snapped up. "Don't compare us...!" he called. "Cora-san was... someone great, someone extraordinary... He was strong and determined, and never yielded to the fate. He kept moving ahead, without caring about his own good... he shaped reality with his bare hands if it didn't suit him...!" He closed his eyes. "And you put his name together with mine, as if... as if..." He pressed his lips together. Even if he was saying his mind, he sounded like a fool... although it didn't matter in the slightest. "Don't compare us... I can never be the man he was," he whispered.
"Rosinante was a naughty boy," Sengoku repeated in a calm and firm voice. "He was kind and polite, but once he got something into his head, I couldn't persuade him otherwise... just like you."
Law covered his eyes with one hand, putting his elbow on a table. He didn't want to listen to that, for it was all wrong... but something made him stay here, even if he were to hear the worst - or maybe the best? - things about himself. It didn't even occur to him to get up and leave now... It would be a terrible way of parting with Sengoku-san, who had always, despite everything, showed him kindness. Law realised that Donquixote Rosinante's foster father was the only person whose kindness he could accept... even if it made him the most wretched man in the world. Maybe he was a masochist, indeed...
Sengoku sighed, and then the glass clattered when he poured brandy again. "See what you've done..." he muttered with displeasure. "Not only have you erected him a monument, but you've also put him on the pedestal. As for the monument, the whole humanity benefits from it, so let it stay... but the pedestal you've created only in your mind should be shattered... and the sooner the better." He sighed again and when he continued, it sounded as if he was speaking to a little kid. "Rosinante didn't want to be your idol, right? He wanted to be your friend... your partner on the way you were following. He supported you, not looked at your efforts from the distance. I suppose he never thought of you as someone who should come up to him... Knowing him, he rather admired and respected you. He had low self-esteem... just like you."
The silence fell again; Law could hear the cries of the gulls and beating of his own heart. He tried to recall the face and the gaze of the man who had sacrificed everything to save him... but he could remember only his smile. He felt a familiar pang in his heart upon remembering he'd once had been truly happy, just for a moment. No, Cora-san never put himself on the pedestal. What he'd done, resulted from his very core, not any need to be respected or admired... But it didn't change a thing.
"What you just said..." Sengoku's voice broke in his thoughts. "Doesn't it apply to you as well? Strong, determined... Defeating fate, producing good without caring about your own benefit... Extraordinary. Hmmm... Sounds like you," he decided.
"I'm not like Cora-san," Law choked, keeping his eyelids together. Why wouldn't Sengoku-san understand this...? And why wouldn't he end this farce, why was he allowing such childish behaviour on Law's part, instead of losing his patience and ordering him to get hold of himself, like befitted a nearly forty-year-old guy...?
"Of course you aren't," Sengoku said. "He was he, you are you. This is how it should be. But it doesn't mean either of you is better or worse... or that I can't be proud of both of you. It pains me when you keep denying yourself credit and sink into self-accusations, Law, while you're every inch as good man as Rosinante... and as much important. At least to me," he declared.
Law raised his head and stared at the old admiral, frowning. In the dusk, covering everything in grey and killing any movement, he could barely see his face, but he focused to catch every detail he still could. "Sengoku-san, what-" he started and stopped, having no idea what he wanted to say.
His guest, however, didn't seem to have such dilemmas. "What?" he asked, surprised. "You thought I would move my old bones and struggle to the end of the world year by year to reminisce about Rosinante? I can't do a thing for him, let him rest in peace. I accepted that long ago. If I wanted to talk about him, I'd call you," he said, bringing the glass to his lips.
Law was sitting without a move and silent, trying to understand the words that he'd never expected to hear... that he wasn't sure he'd actually heard, regardless of his extraordinary hearing. He was staring at the old man as if he were seeing him the first time in his life, and his mind was running around in circles, trying to reach some logical conclusions and failing miserably. He grabbed the glass and took a sip, never letting eyes off his guest. His heart was racing in his chest, as if it was about to jump out... but there was no despair in it, only some incredible... hope...?
The lights flashed around them when the caretaker turned on the outside lighting. Law started, seeing the white flakes swirling in the air. Snow was falling down from the skies, softly covering the ground with the while shroud. He shut his eyelids together and pressed one hand to his face. He bit his lips. The shiver ran through his body again... along with the hysterical thought that cursed snow marked the most crucial moments of his life.
A warm hand touched his own. "It's all right," Sengoku said in a calm voice.
Law nodded, still not moving from his spot. He tried to regain control, which took him a longer while. Finally, he opened his eyes to look at the man before him.
"You're both naughty boys," Sengoku repeated, taking his hand. "But I wouldn't trade you for anyone else."
Law took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Sengoku-san, I don't deserve-" He paused, seeing the retired admiral shrug and grab another bag of crackers.
Don't find excuses for someone's love, he remembered the words he'd heard thirteen years ago. And although he still found it hard to understand... he knew he should have long ago stopped being amazed there were people in the world who could love Trafalgar Law.
"Do what you want with it," Sengoku said between one biscuit and another, perfectly unfazed. Then, however, he gave him a close look and shook his head, although there was no displeasure to his next words, quite the contrary, "I must say that you both are very dumb."
Law felt his lips stretch in an involuntary smile... and this time he didn't deny it.