Chapter 14
The next day, it wasn't better at all.
Law felt he was the worst outcast under the sun, and all he could think about was to see Rosapelo and apologise him again. He needed to do everything in his power to make the boy understand that he was really sorry and regretted his words and behaviour. That thought stuck to him like an obsession and didn't let him focus on anything else. It was something he couldn't argued himself out of or stifle with any reasonable arguments, although he didn't really try to. He forgot altogether that just a few hours earlier he'd decided to never approach the boy again... or, rather, it was that today's needs obscured yesterday's decisions.
With some rational part of him, he realised he was being ridiculous - such an emotional distress was completely unlike him - but it only strengthened his belief that he should deal with the matter once and for all. He had no doubt that once he spoke to the boy - Rosapelo probably felt better already and could accept his apology - his mood would be back to normal. As long as he didn't get rid of that burden, he wouldn't be able to focus on working, just like this very morning. Even if during the surgeries the Ope Ope no Mi made him cut himself off from everything, between the subsequent patients Law almost physically sensed the presence of that particular boy on the seventh floor, which made him every time drown in the emotions, among others guilt. It was like some part of him was in pain: he was aware of it all the time, even if he managed to occasionally forget about it, but after each forgetting he could felt it even more acutely.
In the end, his morning passed in the same mood as the whole previous day, that was in total irritation. Shachi and Penguin took a bashing for nothing again, he also scolded several other people, although he realised he acted in a pathetic and reprehensible manner. Around noon, he was done with the surgeries and had a moment to go on the psychiatry, which he did. However, when he was about to enter the ward, Clione emerged from his office and waved at him.
"Do you have nothing else to do than stare at the transmission?" Law asked ironically, not moving from his spot.
"No, it was probably that radar of mine this time," the psychiatrist answered without emotion. "Good morning to you, too. I'm glad to see you, like always... But what are you doing here, actually?"
Law ordered himself to remain calm. "I must speak to Rosapelo," he replied outright.
"You don't remember what I told you yesterday?" Clione asked with a frown.
"I do, but what does it matter?" Law grunted.
"What do you mean, 'what does it matter'?" Clione drew himself up to his full height, although even in the high-heels he was still shorter of the two of them. He looked around before dragging Law into his office. "If I ask you not to visit my patient, I say it as a doctor, not on a whim," he said when the door closed behind them. "And I expect it to be respected."
Law snorted. "Come on, I need only a few minutes."
Clione shook his head. "No. Maybe some time later, but certainly not today nor tomorrow. I'm sorry."
Law knitted his brows. "You're serious? You won't let me see him? Why? It's ridiculous... You think I'm going to do something to him?" he asked in disbelief.
The psychiatrist gave him a sympathetic look and sighed. "Law, it's not like I don't believe your pure intent," he replied with a gentle conviction. "I only don't believe entirely your self-control... especially after what happened yesterday."
Law shook his head, annoyed. "I promise I won't say anything stupid this time," he said in a quiet, emphatic voice. "I only want to apologise to him...!"
Clione raised his brows. "I think you already had...?"
"But I'm not sure if it reached him," Law dawdled reluctantly.
"Well, I'm afraid nothing really changed in his situation since yesterday, so you'll hardly have any luck. I'll get you know when his condition is better and your visit is desirable, trust me," Clione said in a calm tone that left no space for negotiating.
Law felt like grinding his teeth. He'd forgotten that, among other people, psychiatrists were those who couldn't be easily persuaded into changing their viewpoints. He wondered if he should insist... Or maybe he should just ignore Clione and his position? After all, he was a director of this hospital and had power that was close to absolute...
Yet, he knew it would be the most evil thing to do. What kind of a doctor would he be if he didn't respect his colleagues' autonomy and opinions? No, he couldn't do it, no matter how desperately he wanted to carry out his plans.
"Why is it so important to you?" Clione asked, giving him a thoughtful look.
Law clung to that question. Maybe he still had some chances...? "I just... I must speak with him. I can't focus on anything," he admitted irritably, averting his eyes. "So really-"
"Not today. Bear with it for a few days."
Law hissed angrily. "A few days? I think that I'll end on your ward before that. I'm really close to that. Why-"
Clione came closer, put one hand on his shoulder and looked in his face. "Listen, Law," he said in a serious voice and with penetrating gaze in his slate-blue eyes. "I understand you're feeling bad after what happened, but every doctor... every person makes mistakes. Even you, the greatest doctor in the world. We can't help it; we can only learn from them. You must accept what you've done... and move on. After all, it's not like anything serious, anything irreparable happened. Your doctor's pride shouldn't suffer so much because of a single... ah, lapse, so you should-"
"Cut the funny talk, I know that, all right?" Law interrupted him peevishly and took a step back. "Besides... what 'pride'? What the fuck are you talking about, Clione?"
"That's because you're acting strange," the psychiatrist said, folding his arms, "and the only thing I can think of is that you're mad at yourself because, being a hospital director, you mistreated a patient... And thus your self-esteem is giving you a hard time."
"I am mad at myself, and my self-esteem is giving me a hard time," Law agreed. "And I want to apologise to that kid, so that I won't feel even a worse person I already do, damn it!" he blurted before he managed to bite his tongue.
In the silence that fell, he could hear ticking of the clock on the wall and steps in the hall. He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, but he couldn't take them back.
Clione spent a longer while observing him with a frown, and then something flashed in his eyes. He sighed again and lowered his arms. "Law, is there something you'd like to talk with me about?" he asked softly.
"The hell, no!" Law barked and turned around to grab at the door handle.
"But if you want, you know where to find me. And I'm sorry for what I said. It was ill-considered of m-"
Law didn't listen; he left to the hall and then walked to the stairs. He run up to the eight floor, trying to calm down, but his pulse was too quick, and his ears were humming. He hated to feel this way. He hated to be upset, to be annoyed and irritated. Over the years, he'd almost forgotten those emotions, for his life had been filled with work, and work was the sense of his life. He'd almost believed that he, Trafalgar Law, would never have those unpleasant sensations again; there was nothing in his world to cause them...
'But you don't live in void. You can't cut yourself off from things you can't influence, and they are plenty,' a common sense spoke in his head, and it sounded strangely like Clione these days.
And what good it was, if even that knowledge didn't make it easier to control his rage that was showing in his behaviour now? He entered the canteen at a fast pace that should be avoided in any hospital. He put himself some food on the plate, almost scattering the content of the containers all around. When he placed the tray on the table, he did it so forcibly that the glasses clattered and several people dining around turned to look at him.
"Wow, you're mad indeed," he heard a familiar voice.
He raised his eyes and looked at the person sitting opposite to him. Ikkaku. Great, the last person he needed now... He pulled the chair out in a violent manner and sat down. "I have problems with a psychiatrist. And with a kid," he barked and grabbed the cutlery.
As the silence prolonged, he cast Ikkaku a furtive and reluctant look over his plate. The head of the obstetrics and gynaecology department was staring at him blankly, clearly stunned - she, who always had a snappy retort to his every statement...! If the situation had been different, he would be satisfied, but not now when everything was so pathetic.
Finally, Ikkaku shook her head and finished her lunch. "Sorry, I must've heard wrong," she said in a hesitating voice.
"You heard wrong," Law agreed. Really, could he fall even lower than pouring his heart out to everyone around without any self-respect? He suddenly lost an appetite. He got up and grabbed the tray.
Ikkaku quickly reached over the table and caught his sleeve. "Come on, sit down. You're not a chase little virgin to shy from a talk," she said without ceremony. "Besides, you better eat something. Knowing you, you haven't eaten since breakfast, right?"
"What are you?" he grunted, sitting down. "My-" He stopped. No 'wife' nor 'mother' fitted this conversation, and he'd be damned if he ever used those words.
"I'm your friend," Ikkaku replied with lofty dignity. "In case you forgot."
Law took a hearty portion of fish bake on his fork and shoved it inside his mouth. He ate without really feeling the taste of the food.
"What's happening, Law?" Ikkaku asked. "You get mad at people, snap at everyone around. It's not like you. When you're in a bad mood, you just turn more aloof and stop talking, you don't take it out on others. Even during that last storm you were a haven of peace. And now? You're close to shooting sparks, and you make it obvious that people shouldn't cross your way. Any minute you could start shamblesing people for having approached you. Penguin and Shachi whined to me yesterday about you getting angry at them. I said they'd probably deserved it," she informed offhand. "But today you scolded my intern, and she certainly didn't deserve that," she added reprovingly before throwing in a provocative manner, "The last time I saw you like that... You were fifteen and going through puberty. Ah, what a fun that was..."
Law didn't give to the taunt - his mood was bad enough without that - only kept eating. Fifteen? It seemed to belong to another life...
"What has Clione done to you?" came another question, and this time it had a reaction: Law's level of irritation started to near the red line. He was still mad at the psychiatrist for what had happened.
"He tried to psychoanalyse me," he replied, although it was a bit disconnected from the truth. Quite much, actually.
Ikkaku raised one brow. "But he always tries," she pointed out, putting the glass down. "And not only you but everyone, so what's the big deal? Though, true, I would be livid, too, if I went on a date and ended on a couch."
"I don't go on dates with Clione," Law replied, driving away the thought that it'd been a while since the psychiatrist had flirted with him last time, no matter how idiotic it sounded.
"Of course you don't!" Ikkaku snorted. "He's too wise for that. For all love our angel of patience has for you, even he wouldn't stay with you longer. But it's not a reason to get mad," she said sharply.
Law looked up in anger and pointed his fork at her. "I can't see any logic in your words, yet they unnerve me even more than usually," he said point blank. "Which isn't pleasant since I'm already pretty annoyed. Let me ask you... How can you stand being peeved all the time? I've been upset just for a few days, and I'm already fed up with it. If I were such a spitfire, I would've been dead long ago."
Ikkaku straightened in the chair. "Hey, that was mean," she responded resentfully. "It sounded as if you considered me some kind of a monster capable only of rage... while I, too, can be nice...?" When he said nothing, she shook her head, making her curls bounce. "And whose fault do you think it is...? You expect a woman who spent over ten years in a submarine with twenty guys to be a good girl?"
"As far as I remember, you were pretty ill-tempered even before joining the crew," Law muttered and resumed eating.
"Well, good girls don't join the pirate crews," Ikkaku stated the obvious. "But don't you change the topic now. Did anything happen, Law? Any problems with a patient? With the patient's relatives? A difficult case? But there's no such a thing like a difficult case for you... Or could it be that you're suffering from Bepo's absence?"
Law stared at her in disbelief. "What Bepo has to do with it?"
"Well, it's him who he always takes all your moods on the chin."
"I don't lace into Bepo, if that's what you mean," he replied.
"For all Devil Fruits, no-one's saying it!" she said in exasperation. "But I wouldn't be surprised if his presence had a major impact on your mood. He's the only person in the world that you open to, just a bit. I bet Bepo is the first to know if something stresses you. Now he's not here, and you're so fumed as if you'd like to destroy this hospital from the inside. For me, those two things are related."
"Now you play a psychiatrist?" Law snapped back at her.
"I don't need to be a psychiatrist to tell that much," she replied, waving her hand in a dismissive way.
Law said nothing only kept eating.
"What were you babbling about some kid? I have two, so maybe I could help you...?" she offered. "Though I've no idea what Trafalgar Law and children could have in common... Or is it this age, already? You started to consider adopting a kid...?" she added with irony that today hurt Law.
"If you really must talk to me, then would you please not tell rubbish?" he snarled.
Ikkaku, however, didn't care about that remark at all. She was looking at him with a pensive expression for a longer while, and then something flashed in her dark eyes. "A kid and psychiatry, maybe it's about..." she muttered, frowning. "Right, I haven't got it earlier... Berni mentioned the other day they had that nasty situation on their ward, with one boy trying to commit suicide. That's what you're talking about? Damn you, Law. Why people always have to guess such things? Why don't you speak normally? That's what it's about, right?"
Law pressed his lips. He'd forgotten Ikkaku's husband was working on the paediatric ward...
"It's not your fault," his colleague went on. "Besides, he's not the first suicidal patient in this hospital. I bet half of those on the Seven suffer from such ideas before they recover, so what's the big deal? Clione takes care of him and gets him on his feet, just like everyone. It's not your problem."
Law remained silent. It seemed that at least the information of his personal involvement in the matter had yet to reach Ikkaku's ear... and he hoped it wouldn't.
"I can understand something like that might distress you," Ikkaku continued, and now her voice was almost compassionate. "We all know your unhealthy ambition... your obsession with fighting with death," she said with a wry smile. "Fortunately, that case didn't end tragically; the worst didn't happen, and that's the most important thing. The boy will surely recover on the Seven. Our chief psychiatrist is the best in his field, isn't he? He knows his job even better than make-up and styling," she added reluctantly, staring at her unpainted fingernails before looking at Law again. "So don't let it bother you so much. You have your own work, right?"
"Mhm."
"Speaking of what, I have, too..." Ikkaku pushed out the chair and got up. "I must go to my ward. Try not to bully people on the consultations, okay? I mean... except for surgeons, they deserve it by default. They are mean and prance," she informed, taking her tray. "Take care!"
The next moment she was gone, and Law, despite everything, felt left alone with his problem. It was absurd, for he used to keep things to himself and never share his trouble with anyone, even less expect any help or advice. Now, however, he was mad at Ikkaku for having first worn him with questions and then left, cutting the conversation halfway through. He realised he was, in fact, mad at everything and everyone around, also at himself, but directing that anger at someone else seemed to be a better idea, even if it was extremely foolish, too... He didn't want to admit that talking to Ikkaku had helped him a bit, for the head of the obstetrics and gynaecology department hadn't been bothered in the slightest by his behaviour, his whole fury falling off her like water off a duck, or, rather, she'd neutralised it with her own fire. She at least wouldn't be hurt by his nasty mood, and it was some comfort; in the last three days, his incivility or even an open aggression had hurt enough people already.
On the consultations, he did his best to control himself and criticise no-one, even the surgeons, in which he succeeded pretty well. (Only one oncology resident left the session with an expression clearly indicating that she considered herself to be the most stupid and pathetic person in the world and was thinking of a career change). The new admissions guaranteed Law a few hours of calm - he hadn't fallen as low as to display his bad mood to the patients (unless, of course, they tried to kill themselves before his very eyes), and he believed such a day would never come. In the evening, however, he was left alone in his office... and during the paper work, he recalled his talk with Ikkaku.
He sighed. He realised his anger was gone. Maybe he'd entered the stage of that silent resignation and yielding to the circumstances...? Quite fast... but it fitted. He really couldn't be mad longer than a few days... Now he felt, above all, mortified by his own actions, but he had to trust that the problem was past him already and he would be finally able to regain his balance...? He really missed it.
For all her meanness, Ikkaku sometimes said things that struck to the core. Clione did too, but for some reason taking it from the psychiatrist was harder. Today - he'd been very unlucky - he'd heard from the two of them, separately, the same message, even though put in another words... the same assumption that had really hurt him. First Clione had spoken of Law's doctor's pride, about his self-esteem as a hospital director, and then Ikkaku had thrown that line about his boundless, obsessive ambitions - she'd called them 'unhealthy' - as a doctor.
It sounded as if they both saw him only through medicine and considered him to be someone who didn't care about anything else. Clione and his, 'Don't worry about one mistake, you have more important things to do'. Ikkaku and her, 'Don't worry about one boy, you have more serious work'. It was very easy to come to the conclusion that, in their eyes, he was some kind of a monster whose life evolved only around treating and curing people, around the hospital and the professional ambitions. For some reason, today, that analyse had hurt like hell.
Now, however, when he thought about it calmly, he realised it was exactly like that. How could they - and not only those two, but everyone else, too - consider him to be someone else after he'd cultivated such an image of himself for a quarter of a century already? In his life, there was nothing else than medicine, curing, realising his plans and ambition; those things would take all his time. His life as a whole evolved around the Ope Ope no Mi. Trafalgar Law was firstly, secondly and thirdly a doctor, any possible aspects of a human being so far that he could hardly see them. There were no bonds, for he kept others at bay. There was no friendship, for he avoided it. There was no love, for he wasn't capable of it. There was no family, for he didn't need it. His identity was defined by his profession, and his vocation was guided by the Ope Ope no Mi. How could he blame others for seeing him this way if his every word, every action and his attitude proved that picture to fully corresponded to reality? There was no such a person like 'Law'. Actually, it was a miracle that there were still people in the world who didn't address him as 'Doctor Law'.
The current situation reflected it perfectly. He'd flipped out on an innocent boy, for he hadn't fitted his medical vision. He'd treated him the way that was far from human. And when his conscience had made him apologise... wasn't it what Clione had said today: that, as a doctor, he just couldn't stand that feeling of guilt?
It was as if that time on Minion, twenty-six years ago, his heart had died and had been replaced by the Ope Ope no Mi. As if that day, Law had turned into Doctor Law. It wasn't so hard to believe that, and that the change was completely irreversible, too. Actually, maybe it was what had suited him the best that time: as a doctor, he could cure anyone and never experience the defeat again, while as a human he had had nothing but suffering... And that was how he'd spent the next quarter of a century: guided by that idea that he didn't need to no longer wonder about, for it had been his only imperative.
And since he hadn't found anything else, since he didn't feel confident with anything else... shouldn't he rely on it this time as well? He was a doctor; he had the Ope Ope no Mi. Curing was his task, medicine was his mission, helping was his goal - not because someone had decided that, but because he himself had assumed that as his own principle to base his existence on. Sticking to them was the only sensible... the only safe course of action.
Maybe that was why he'd already calmed down. Maybe that was why he'd already given up on that anger. Maybe that was why he already could accept the situation. He had to move on. He had to leave others their job and focus on his own. It was his task to cure those terminally ill patients, and he shouldn't be bothered with anything else. That was the only reason why he was here, in the Corazon Memorial Hospital.
He took a deep breath and then another, greeting like a good friend that sense of calm that had finally overtaken him. He knew how he should start: tomorrow, he would apologise to everyone he'd mistreated. To tell the truth, he couldn't bear the thought of a prolonged discord with Shachi, Penguin and Clione. Actually, he should be happy that Bepo was absent, for it was certain that the mink too would have taken a bashing, and that was something Law wanted the least.
Well, there were more people he should apologise to, but even if he had to repent before the whole staff, he would do it. It was high time to stop this unproductive farce and start behaving as befitted the hospital director. He'd wasted enough time on rubbish, harming others along the way. They didn't need the annoyed, furious and unpredictable Trafalgar Law, only the calm and composed Doctor Law, whose reliability they could always count on. He would assume that part again; it was the only wise choice. He wasn't a fifteen-year-old kid in puberty, like Ikkaku had said.
Leaning over the medical records again, he tried to ignore that unpleasant sensation in his chest. He told himself that the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't ache.
The next morning, Law waked up dejected but calm. He managed to smile when reading the letter from Ida he'd found on his desk and opened during breakfast; yesterday, he hadn't felt like browsing through the correspondence. The nurse described the situation on Vokzel in an enthusiastic-optimistic manner, and Law could feel her emotions as clearly as if she'd been sitting next to him. The power had been turned back on in the hospital on the neighbouring island, but the repairs were still in process. The patients and the staff, however, had returned from the relocation, even though the hospital wasn't fully operational yet. Ida thanked for the help that the Corazon Memorial Hospital had given, and hoped to once more visit Raftel, although it wouldn't happen anytime soon, for she had more work than enough, but she didn't mean to complain.
Law concluded that the nurse's condition returned to normal. At least, it seemed she didn't have any trauma with sea journeys, which was a good sign. He thought he would gladly meet her, himself, but that thought was followed by another: Ida had a fiancé. He quickly decided his reasoning lacked logic; however, before he managed to be bothered by that discovery, his breakfast was over and it was time to start working. Before heading for the first ward today, he apologised to the worker of the canteen - Marianna, as the name tag on her gown informed - for his unseemly behaviour and asked her to pass it to the rest of the personnel.
Marianna, a stout women in her fifties, first cast him a stunned look and then burst out laughing. "I have no idea what are you talking about, Director," she said cheerfully. "This place is usually so noisy and bustling that no-one notices a single person's actions. We're accustomed to it that people are in a rush, raise voices, bump into each other or scatter the food. There's no need to be bothered, really. I don't know what you would have to do, Director, in order to draw attention and cause a scandal here," she added cordially. "Maybe if you broke all plates, one after another, or threw the cutlery on your colleagues."
Law shivered at such a vision. He would have to be in a very bad shape to do things like that. No, he would have to turn into someone else, which wasn't likely. "But in case my behaviour offended someone," he added, although such a diligence seemed somewhat stupid to him, "please, let everyone know I regret it."
Merry sparks were still in the woman's eyes, but she nodded, so he wished her a pleasant day and headed for the gynaecology. He started today's surgeries from a pregnant woman or, rather, her unborn child with a serious genetic disorder that would lead do death during infancy. Then, he had two little patients on the paediatric ward: a four-year-old girl with spinal muscular atrophy and a six-years-old boy with neurofibromatosis. On the oncology, he cured a middle-aged man from an advanced skin cancer that would have killed the patient in the next three months.
It was eight, so after the surgeries, he asked after the resident whom he'd berated in harsh words yesterday. As he learned from the nurses, her name was Salla. He met her in the corridor as she was walking from her office. He was glad she'd decided to come to work... she didn't plan to give up on her medical vocation yet. For her part, however, she nearly panicked upon seeing him. She hunched visibly, which made a strange impression with her height; she was almost as tall as he was. He realised she looked tired and upset, her face was pale - her skin was almost white in contrast with the dark hair she had tied in a ponytail on the top of her head - and now she turned even paler. Her irises grew wide as she stared at him frightened; her eyes seemed completely black now.
Before she managed to speak, he said, "I'm sorry for my behaviour yesterday, Salla."
The young woman blinked; she couldn't have seen it coming. Rather, she'd expected another scolding or even a dismissal, seeing a hospital director in front of her office the first thing in the morning, and after he'd savaged her the previous day. Law thought he was really a cruel man if he provoked such reactions in his co-workers.
"I had a very bad day, although it's no excuse," he added when she still wouldn't say anything. "I'm glad you work in this hospital, and I hope you will con-... Hey, you're all right?"
Salla collapsed on the wall as if she was about to faint, which didn't happen, but he managed to catch her anyway. He looked around and saw two chairs a few metres away. He helped her to walk there and seated her down; then, he waved at a nurse. "Dr Salla is sick," he explained. "Take care of her."
The resident looked at him in confusion.
"If you want, you can take the day off," he announced.
She nodded and licked her lips. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Take care of yourself," he muttered and evacuated from the ward.
He hoped that the woman would resolve doubts in case the people wondered if he was the reason for her indisposition... even though it was actually true. He realised he felt above all very stupid. Nevertheless, he couldn't become discouraged by what had just happened; he had to continue as before. He walked two floors down, to the gynaecology, to find the next victim of his moodiness. The nurse in the station informed him that the doctors were having a morning brief, and he asked her about the unlucky intern's name. When he entered the conference room, all heads turned towards him, also Ikkaku's. Upon seeing him, she squinted her eyes, but the rest of people seemed uneasy. Well, a sudden appearance of a hospital director was never a good sign...
"I interrupt you only for a moment," he said from the door and looked at the resident, who was sitting by the chief doctor. "I'd like to apologise to Dr Ulka for my yesterday's behaviour and-"
Ikkaku burst out laughing. "Law, that's quite a feat... People are never bored around you," she called merrily.
"Actually, I should apologise to you as well," he said.
"Fine, fine. Apology accepted," she replied and snorted again before patting the younger doctor sitting next to her. "Ulka, say something."
The intern had managed to hide herself behind her notebook; now a pair of light eyes glanced from behind it. "Apology accepted," she mumbled.
"I can't wait to read about it in the next issue of the bulletin. 'Our respected Director walked around the hospital, offering a public apology to the workers'," Ikkaku said and laughed again, followed by several colleagues. "I bet people will think that All Fools' day came two months earlier this year. I wouldn't have believed it myself," she added. "Law, you really made my day."
Law didn't comment, but, unexpectedly, he felt like smiling himself. Other doctors seemed amused, too. Well, it was far better effect than the one he'd got on oncology. "It's not going to happen a-"
"Fine, get going," Ikkaku urged him, waving her hand. "We're busy here. Have a nice day! You're sweet."
"Have a nice day," Law muttered and turned to leave. In the corridor, he could hear Ikkaku burst out laughing again, and smiled to himself. He came to the conclusion he preferred it when people were amused by his untypical behaviour, not distressed.
He had one more treatment to perform now, so he didn't waste time, as there were also two surgeries on the operating theatre to attend to. This patient was a young man suffering from treatment-resistant epilepsy. He was currently under the influence of powerful medication that de facto was keeping him in asleep, otherwise he would have constant seizures. He'd developed epilepsy after being treated for a brain cancer, but Law was far from criticising other doctors for their decisions. Removing the cancer had been the only right solution - it had saved the man's life - so no-one had made a mistake, and fortunately the Ope Ope no Mi existed to remove all side effects of the therapy. Law restored the patient's nervous system to balance - among others, he rebuilt the cavity in the brain tissue - although he was aware that the final effect could be assessed only after a few days observation. Still, he was positive about the recovery.
He went to the main hall, ready to go down to the operating theatre, when his eyes caught the board with the name of the ward on the opposite end. He stopped and glanced at the clock on the wall; he had almost fifteen minutes. He pressed his lips in a thin line, then sighed softly and approached the door next to the entrance to the psychiatry. He knocked and put his hands in his pockets.
He sensed only one person inside, and he assumed it was Clione. He was right; the door opened, showing the head of the psychiatry department himself, nicely dressed and all. Clione was looking like always, and yet his sight evoked some unpleasant emotion that Law didn't want to analyse now.
"Law... What brings you here?" Clione asked and then frowned. "If it's about Rosapelo, then I'm afraid-"
"No," Law shook his head. "I wanted to apologise for yesterday," he muttered.
Clione blinked. "To who?"
"To you!" Law retorted annoyed.
"You did nothing to apologise to me for," Clione stated in a calm voice.
Law suppressed another sigh. "What was it? 'The bad side of being a psychiatrist is that you can't get mad at people because you understand their reasons for doing everything', right?" he asked under his breath.
Clione smiled lightly. "Something like that," he replied serenely. "But you really did nothing to apologise. Actually, I feel like thanking you because recently you've been coming here more often."
"And it makes you happy?" Law asked, although he hadn't planned to.
"You have to ask? Of course it makes me happy!" the psychiatrist assured him. "For whom do you think I dress up like this every day?" he added in a voice that Law could never tell if he was joking or being serious.
He couldn't get rid of that unpleasant feeling that had overcome him a moment ago. He should feel relieved because Clione was just like always and seemed to not bear a grudge against him for their yesterday's confrontation, and yet, for some reason, he felt even more depressed, as if there were some weight upon his chest. If he'd known it would be like this, he wouldn't have come here, he thought angrily.
"What happened?" the psychiatrist asked after a moment of silence, observing him closely. "Do you want to come in? To talk? I have a few minutes to spare."
Law, however, was still standing where he stood, aware that some thought was trying to break into his mind, a memory of something very recent and yet so bitter that he'd pushed it deep down in his unconsciousness to never recall. "You really don't mind what I said yesterday?" he asked in an emotionless voice, but he had to force himself to speak. "You're not mad?"
Surprise flashed in Clione's eyes, and a vertical line appeared on his forehead. "Did I ever got mad at you?" he asked with another question. "Are you really that upset about it? Law...?"
"I don't know," Law hissed edgily. "Ikkaku said something like that..." He stopped.
"What did she say?" the psychiatrist asked calmly.
Law concentrated on his slate-blue eyes, knowing he didn't want to remember it, but now Ikkaku's words had already come to his mind and he couldn't drive them away. "She said that even you wouldn't put up with me," he said dryly, with challenge, as if he'd been forced to... and felt even worse.
Clione blinked, and the wrinkle between his brows deepened. Then the psychiatrist pressed his lips in an obvious irritation and dragged Law inside his office in a swift move before closing the door.
"You're well aware that at least half of what Ikkaku says should go in one ear and out the other," he said with emphasis, looking Law deep in the eye. "With all respect, she sometimes talks rubbish. Just like this time. I've stayed with you over twenty years already, and I'm going to stay at least twice as much," he declared. "Never doubt it. I'm your friend, and I have no intention to give up on that friendship. I'm not going anywhere, if that's what you fear." He smiled. "You would have to fire me... but I'd probably stay and camp in front of the main door anyway."
But that answer didn't put Law at ease as much as he wished; he didn't feel like smiling, either. He averted his eyes and looked outside the window, although he didn't really see what was there. His heart was beating fast, and he had to muster all his control to stay where he was, for he felt like running away. He had no idea what he was doing here... and what it was he really wanted.
"Law," Clione spoke again, and this time there was some caution to his words, "I know you don't like it when I psychoanalyse you... so I'm only going to ask. Does it have something to do with what you said yesterday? About feeling you're a bad person?"
Law said nothing, although it probably was exactly that.
"You're free to feel how you want," the psychiatrist went on, "but I don't think anyone considers you to be a bad person. It's rather the opposite. If it were so, people from all around the world wouldn't be driven towards you, both patients and professionals."
"What they are driven towards is the Ope Ope no Mi," Law replied, and his dignity was laughing at him for such a fall. "Towards this hospital, where the best medicine is practiced."
Clione shook his head. "No, you're completely wrong," he stated flatly.
"Tell me, who would I be if not for the Ope Ope no Mi? What good would I be? Who would like to hang around me?" Law asked, glancing at him furtively before averting his gaze again.
He was pathetic. Had he really come here to pour his heart out? What did he really expect? Wise answers and comfort? Sure, a psychiatrist was the best choice for getting those, but still... Or could it be that he was unscrupulously taking advantage of Clione's feelings, for he needed his assurance...? No, it wasn't that.
"Well, I would, for starters," Clione replied, shrugging. "And I'm certain that most of your friends would too, including Ikkaku. For us, you aren't any 'Doctor Law', just 'Law'. So, if it sets your mind at ea-"
"According to Ikkaku, you wouldn't even date me," Law interrupted him, although he hadn't considered himself someone to speak such words just fifteen... five minutes... five seconds ago, and he had never planned to do it.
Clione's reaction was as powerful as his own surprise. The psychiatrist took two steps back and stared at him for a longer while, completely stupefied. Law felt worse and worse with every passing second, although he no longer knew what was the main cause of it: his own words, Ikkaku's words... or maybe Clione's answer he was awaiting like judgement.
Finally, the psychiatrist shook his head and raised one hand in an overly dramatic move. "Wait a moment, just wait..." he said. "It seems to me this conversation went on a level I have yet to grasp. Did you just use a word 'date'? And in regard to the two of us? Law, is it really you? No-one replaced you? Maybe you have fever? Or maybe you overworked yourself again, and it's your stress coming out?"
"Stop clowning around," Law snarled, looking everywhere else but the psychiatrists and wondering how to get out of this crap... No, how to make the world normal again. And despite it all, his heart just wouldn't slow down, for he didn't want it to be something one could just laugh off, even if laughing it off would be the safest option.
"Then, you didn't come here to confess to me?" he heard Clione's calm voice.
"To hell, no! Ugh!" He lowered his head and ran both hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm leaving. Let's pretend this conversation never ha-"
He didn't finish, for that moment Clione hugged him tight and pressed his cheek to his cheek, and Law didn't even manage to react upon smelling the faint scent of perfume.
"Law, Law. I love you, and you know it," the psychiatrist softly, and his voice was tender, compassionate and sad. "What Ikkaku said... She should have saved herself that remark... even if she were right, damn it. But you understood it wrong way. She probably understands it wrong way, too. I would go on a date or two with you, maybe even five would happen... and maybe we'd even have a passionate affair... Only it would never work, Law. But not because you're a bad man, for it's not true, so don't think poorly of yourself, no-one wants it." Clione embraced him even tighter. "Oh, Law... I'm your friend, and I want to stay it, but I know well that it's not me you need. No matter how much I tried, I wouldn't be able to give you what you desire... I wouldn't be able to fill that emptiness in your heart."
He stepped back, although he was still having his hands on Law's shoulder. His eyes were glistening. "But don't feel like I reject you, okay?" he said with emphasis. "I will never, never reject you. I'll always support you, if you only need it."
Law nodded. although it required his all strength, for that was how he really felt: rejected, and it was such a nasty feeling he would do anything to cut himself off from it. Nevertheless, he knew Clione was right. And he knew he had to cling to that cold logic, for nothing else could help him now.
The clock in the hall struck nine. "I must go," he said.
Clione's fingers clenched his shoulders as if comforting him. "Law, you do know that there's someone for you, too?" the psychiatrist asked. "That special someone who needs only you and who you need."
Law shook his head. He didn't believe that.
The fingertips dug deeper into his flesh. "Do not lose hope, Law," Clione said with emphasis, penetrating him with the gaze of his light eyes. "There's always hope."
Law focused his eyes on him. It seemed to him he'd heard it before... in a previous life... And that memory brought another: that his unspoken hopes had been answered indeed, giving him the greatest joy... only to take it back before he'd managed to understand it. He lifted one hand and grabbed the shirt on his chest; he didn't want to feel this pain, not today when he was feeling miserable enough. "I don't think I can count on it. I already exhausted my lifetime supply of happiness," he said dully.
Clione raised his brows. "At a very early stage, apparently," he said half-ironically, half-sympathetically. "I don't remember ever seeing you happy."
"That's true, you didn't," Law replied without looking at him. "I must go," he repeated and took a step back. He really had to, for he know that staying here wouldn't be good for anyone.
Finally, Clione let go of him. "I'll be here," he said in a calm voice and opened the door to let him out. "I'll be here."
Law nodded and exited. In the hall, however, he turned around and looked at the psychiatrist, frowning. "Don't count me out yet," he asked, having no idea why he said that. "Maybe one day..." He stopped.
"Maybe one day you'll reach the point where I will suffice?" Clione guessed, and Law decided it sounded as bad as he'd thought it would. The psychiatrist patted him on the back. "Let's hope there's no such need. But if it puts you at ease... I can wait," he promised, smiling brightly.
But Law didn't believe that smile and couldn't bear with it. He had to leave here in order to not lose even that little of balance he'd managed to find after yesterday. He headed to the lift.
"Law!" he heard behind his back. He turned and saw Clione giving him a thumb up. "You're a good man. Believe a psychiatrist. The psychiatrists are always right."
Law waved him goodbye and pressed the button. Waiting for the lift to come, he looked over his shoulder and muttered, "If you say it hundred time, then maybe I'll believe it."
Clione smiled. "That's how psychotherapy works."
"If I decide I need it, I'll know where to come."
"I'll be waiting," the psychiatrist replied cheerfully.
When the lift door closed after him, Law took a deep breath. He realised that, after all, he could still trust that smile... and be comforted by it. He snorted but couldn't drive away that thought, that knowledge that hade been sticking to him like a dogma: sometimes the smiles could make wonders. It was undoubtedly a miracle that this day didn't seem a complete failure to him.