Chapter 16
By evening, Law managed to convince himself that it was mostly about being satisfied with the improvement in his patient's condition. After all, his personal feelings were of hardly any importance, and there was no place for them in a treatment process. Nevertheless, it didn't stop him from smiling every time he remembered how Rosapelo's heart had sped up in response to his words. The boy hadn't completely cut himself off from his surroundings, and it was possible to reach him, even though, Law realised, it would require a lot of work. Clione's little patient really was in a state bordering catatonia, and probably willingly. Undoubtedly, he'd slipped into it consciously and hadn't planned to return from it, at least not at the beginning; it might be that now he no longer could do it. They needed to pull him out of that state, bring him back to the world of living; now that they knew they could catch him, the chances of success had risen substantially.
In the evening, too, Law came to the conclusion that he shouldn't take it so personally. It could be possible that Rosapelo reacted that way to everyone's speech. Apparently, Law had believed in what Clione had said: that he was the only one to bring on Rosapelo's response, but the psychiatrist couldn't monitor the boy's heart rate or other parameters. Well, he could if he put the patient on monitors, but there was no reason for doing so. Law would check it out as soon as tomorrow, and if he found that the boy reacted to other people's voices as well, then there would be no need to keep visiting him; he could be left in the hands of the psychiatrists and their kind.
Somehow, that eventuality didn't make Law as happy as he'd like it to, but he decided not to think about it. Maybe because of that, the next morning, he waked up in a pretty good mood... although he could have overdone showing it, for when he left the gynaecology ward after a morning surgery, he met Ikkaku, who seemed to have chased after him.
"Wow, you're really in a good mood," she said as a greeting, frowning.
"Is it necessary that our every conversation starts like that these days?" Law replied with a sneer.
"You mean, with comments on your mood?" Ikkaku guessed and then shrugged, as if she didn't care much. "It's no conversation. I only came for a minute. My intern was so polite to report that yesterday you'd spent two hours of consultations smiling widely, so I decided I had to see it with my own eyes. And look what we have here. You're going to start humming any moment."
Law snorted. "So, I should probably expect to read about it in the bulletin...?"
"Whatever. I'm glad something good happened to you," Ikkaku said straight, just like she used to, and he knew she was being honest. "Okay, I saw what I wanted, time to get back to work." She patted him on the shoulder, then twirled around to vanish around the corner.
Law smiled wryly and headed for the operating theatre. On his way, he wondered about being 'spied on' all the time. Really, he couldn't even smile without the whole hospital knowing about it the next moment... He hoped that at least in the loo he wasn't watched. Maybe he should sometimes have a glance at that bulletin to make sure no-one wrote a column about him, indeed...?
He tried to imagine what it might contain. 'As we learned from Mrs X, a worker in the hospital canteen, today Director Law's breakfast consisted of two tuna onigiri, shrimp salad, and a cup of a coffee. Mrs X guarantees that he enjoyed his meal a lot. Moreover, Director was glad to know that there would be a fried trout in the lunch offer.' Or, 'Miss Y, a paediatric nurse who was on a shift last night, told us that Director Law wore his usual black shirt and blue jeans. However, she wasn't able to recognise his cologne, which she apologises for. She places the blame for that to her agitation, caused by running into Director in her ward at 5 PM.' Or, 'Director Law has been in a splendid mood since yesterday. The surgery interns Z and Z inform that he was smiling during the afternoon consultation session and didn't scold anyone. Their report is confirmed by several witnesses who happened to meet Director today. To celebrate it, we announce a contest: What could have put our Director in such a good mood? Dear Colleagues, we encourage you to share your ideas with us. The most interesting answers will be published in the next issue, and the winner will get a free lunch coupon to be redeemed in the canteen.'
Law snorted, exiting the lift; he decided he could congratulate himself on his imagination. No, something like that would be absurd... but the very fact it had occurred to him, proved that he felt good today indeed. It was a very pleasant change after the irritation of two previous weeks, one he never wanted to experience again. Nevertheless, he realised that if he entered the operating theatre being all smiles, Shachi and Penguin wouldn't leave him be, while Ikkaku's jibes were already enough; thus, he spared a few second to assume his normal, serious expression that he should safely show to his assistants.
The surgeries went smoothly, and he managed to finish a bit early. Good mood still accompanied him as he went up, and even the realisation he had to do without a normal lunch again, couldn't spoil it. Actually, he didn't even thought of eating as he opened the door to the psychiatric ward; he was filled with enthusiasm prompted by the challenge. He knew he would meet that challenge, for he had means to succeed. Rosapelo's case was different from those Law tended to normally - the primary difference being the fact that treatment wasn't based on the Ope Ope no Mi - so no wonder he approached it with excitement that was rare for him. Even if he found out that Rosapelo didn't need particularly him, Law would be the one to discover that the boy was still in contact with his surrounding, could hear other people and react to their speech, weak reaction as it was. He didn't doubt that the specialists from the Seven would be able to take advantage of this discovery and make the little patient recover.
This time, Clione was nowhere to be seen, and there was only a nurse in Rosapelo's room, sitting between the bed and the window. Well, the head psychiatrist was responsible for the whole department; he couldn't focus just on one patient. Then again, Law didn't consider his presence to be essential; if he needed, he would just pass a message.
"Good morning, Pelo," he greeted the boy, who looked just like the previous day, and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. "Do you remember I promised to come again? Here I am."
Rosapelo didn't react, but Law hadn't expected it to happen right away. If the boy had withdrawn deep into his mind, it required more time and effort to break through all barriers erected between him and the rest of world. He pushed out the chair and sat down, waving at the nurse to stay. He came to the ironic conclusion that recently it had been pretty easy and even natural for him to deliberate about human's psyche. Ah, if only he could attribute it to Clione's bad influence...
"I hope you will recover soon," he said, looking at Rosapelo again and smiling. "We all here want to help you, make you feel better. Do you remember it will be spring soon? It's a good time for recovery. The sunlight just works miracles; sometimes you don't even notice it and you start feel better. "He let unspoken that only in the case of maniacs it worked even too well. "This year, February has been spoiling us pretty much. There's no trace left of that freezing cold from the beginning of the month. Almost whole snow has already melted, too. If you look outside, you'll see that the sea unfroze and nothing indicates it's still winter..."
Rosapelo didn't seem interested in the scenery outside. He was sitting and staring at something only he could see. His blue eyes weren't moving, although he did blink with slow frequency. Once more, Law was struck by how skinny the boy was; he was probably losing weight day by day. He needed to be quickly set up and rehabilitated before his condition worsened. That was why Law had come here; there was no time to lose...
However, as he observed the little patient, he felt his ambition vanish, although it'd filled him just a moment ago, along with the zeal and the sense of purpose. They were replaced by something much more simple and yet much more intense. As he looked at the boy's sunk cheeks, his very pale skin and eyes devoid of conscience and life, he was overcome with the very same emotions that meeting with Rosapelo had evoked in him yesterday. Hid heart clenched with compassion and a simple desire to help, to remedy what he'd caused, to some extent, even though it couldn't be undone. Smile disappeared from his face, and the words flowed without thinking.
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" he spoke, and this time his voice was softer. "That I am sorry for how I treated you. I really reproach myself for possibly making you feel worse. I'm a head doctor here, and yet I behaved the way that I should be battered. I can't undo what I did, I can only try to fix it somehow. But I can do it only with your help, Pelo."
The boy remained silent, both outwardly and physiologically. His heart was beating at a slow, even pace, and his breath was easy. Not even a single muscle twitched in his body.
"I'm not saying it because I feel remorse and want to ease it," Law kept talking. "Although, after our meeting from ten days ago, you probably couldn't expect anything else," he added with bitter irony. "Anyway, it's not about my conscience and well-being; I really want to help you. We doctors are like that: we want to help... and other person's suffering pains us, too. People use to say that the doctors have work only because of the ill, but believe me, every doctor would be happy if all diseases vanished from the world, for it is them that we hate the most. It's hard to see another person ailing, especially someone as young as you," he said almost in a whisper and gulped. "Recover, Pelo," he asked. "There's so many things you can do and achieve... so many days before you, and each of them may make you happy. More than anything, I'd like to see you get out of bed and gain strength. I'd celebrate for a whole week," he declared with a wry smile.
It was that moment that the boy's pulse quickened, causing the very same reaction in Law himself, along with the feeling that could be considered happiness in other circumstances.
"I'm glad you hear me," he said with warmth, and this time it was much easier to smile. "And that you care about what I say. It fills me with hope that, despite everything I've done, we still can deal with each other, thanks. I don't know if I can count on your forgiveness, even if I apologise thousand times... I only want you to know that what I said the other day... that this hospital isn't a place for you... That was foolish and thoughtless, and I regretted having said it immediately. I think that I'm going to be ashamed of those words until the end of my life," he admitted. "It's not true that it's not a place for you. You can stay here as long as you need mine... our help. Right, Mirva?" he turned to the nurse.
"Of course," she rushed to answer and, when he gave her a sign to keep talking, she moved her chair closer. "This hospital was opened to help people in need. We all wish that you recover, and we're going to do everything we can to make you feel better."
Law frowned. The boy's pulse slowed to its initial rate, even though he could clearly hear the nurse's voice. Law waved at her to continue.
"It's exactly as Dr Law said: we find it hard to look at ill people, especially children, but we spare no effort to ease their... your suffering. It's our vocation, something we devoted ourselves to."
Nothing. Rosapelo's heart rate was slow and didn't seem to react to any external stimuli. Time for the last proof...
"Pelo, do you remember that you're currently in the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel? You've been ill for so long that I wouldn't be surprised if you were confused about your situation..." Law spoke and noticed the instant acceleration of the boy's pulse.
He felt like sighing. It seemed that Rosapelo really reacted only to his voice, at least now. Of course, Law should perform that experiment with other people, like Clione... but something told him the result would be the same. For some reason, the boy had fixated on him... and Law's attentive mind suggested at once that it'd happened probably because in the last two weeks it was Law who'd evoked the strongest emotional reaction in him. It could be assumed that Rosapelo's stupor had started after he'd learned about his mother death. When Law had brought him back from ice, preventing his suicide, then had yelled at him and broken his arm, it was probably shocking enough to get through that wall that had begun to rise around him. It was probably strong enough to leave a memory trace that prompted the physiological response even as the boy was in catatonia.
Law felt uneasy as the new thought struck him. Maybe Rosapelo simply feared him? Until now, he hadn't even considered such a scenario, while it was quite possible. The boy was a child, and every child reacted with fear to an adult's anger. It was beyond doubt that Law had used violence - verbal, but also physical, although the latter had been involuntary - and thus such a reaction wouldn't be strange... Law clenched his jaws, trying to ignore that unpleasant sensation in his stomach, but in vain. The thought that he, Trafalgar Law, might have struck fear in his juvenile patient, was disgusting as hardly anything. Yet, he had to face it, as he had to face all consequences of his actions. He swallowed.
"Pelo," he said to the boy. "If you're afraid of me, I assure you that no harm will come to you here," he said with emphasis. "Not from me nor anyone else. I can't deny that I treated you with aggression, but believe me, I didn't do it because I hate you..." He asked himself if it was really so. He knew well that particular moment Rosapelo had been a person he couldn't stand the most in the world. But now... "I don't hate you, Pelo. I will never hate you," he said in a softer voice, for his throat clenched... but he knew more than anything he was telling the truth.
He had no idea what was happening in the boy's mind - even the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't tell him that - but at least Rosapelo's pulse was still at the arousal level. Cautiously, Law thought it wasn't a reaction of a scared or alarmed person... but then he came to the conclusion it could be only his wishful thinking. The boy had been in a torpor, so his physiological functions and their alterations were probably attenuated; maybe just a slow acceleration in the heart rate was the maximum that his organism could muster now, even if the boy experienced strong fear.
For a hundredth time, Law told himself he couldn't undo what had already happened. Only facts were in his hands, which now meant he was in contact with Rosapelo. Even if it were caused by fear, it was the only contact they had. If the boy could be saved to it, only that mattered... but Law didn't plan to congratulate himself or rejoice on the nature of that connection. He could only hope that one day he would learn how it really was. No, he had to believe he could learn, there was no other option.
In any case, it seemed that he would have to spend much longer he'd expected on psychiatry, in this very room... but suddenly he realised he didn't find it unpleasant. He was amazed at the change that had happened in him in just a few days, but it was undisputed.
"You know, the truth is I was very angry with you," he confessed, speaking more to himself than the boy. "And I never wanted to see you again, but now it's different." He shook his head. "No, I could never hate you, I can promise that... I know well how it is to be the one people hate," he added in a softer voice. "You know, even though I'm pretty much respected now, I once... when I was even younger than you're now, there was a time that I was given only hatred. I got ill, and my disease was considered to be lethal and contagious. It was lethal, but not contagious, only that people didn't know that... or didn't want to know," he whispered bitterly. "Everyone with the symptoms was killed on a spot. I'm probably the only person who survived the extermination in my homeland. The Ope Ope no Mi... the Devil Fruit of mine cured me of that disease, but before it happened, I'd spent many years believing I shouldn't live at all... arousing only fear and disgust. So I know how it is when the whole world hates you and thinks of you as an enemy to be eliminated. I don't wish that feeling to anyone."
He'd never told it to anyone. He hadn't even planned to tell... and yet now it'd just happened. It didn't arouse any emotions; he could almost believe that all that had occurred in another life or had happened to someone else. Still, it had shaped him. First it'd shaped him to act like others... and then, when his life had started anew, it'd shaped him to always do the contrary: to turn his back on the hatred and once again believe. The only man he hated, had deserved it a hundredfold.
But not Rosapelo.
"And yet, Pelo, I showed you my resentment, without thinking about your situation," he said quietly. "It only proves how imperfect I am. Even if some people thinks of me as a god, I'm nothing more than an ordinary man... and sometimes I behave as I weren't even that." He shook his head and breathed deeply. "It's not like I'm making excuses. As I said, no explanation would erase what already happened or make it disappear, the pain I caused you. That's why I really wish that you tell me what should I do to compensate you for that pain. I promise to do whatever is in my power to fulfil your wish. I can't do anything, but I still can pretty much."
No answer, but it wasn't like he'd expected it, at least not at once. For now, that quick pulse of the boy was enough, for it convinced him he was on a right path. He decided to draw comfort from that, instead of focusing on negatives.
"Think about it," he said. "Now I must go, but I'll come to you again two hours from now. Maybe that time you will be able to tell me," he added with a smile and rose to leave.
He headed to the canteen to grab some salad on his way to the consultations, just like yesterday. However, contrary to the previous day, euphoria no longer filled him. Of course, he was glad that meeting with Rosapelo had gone according to his expectations, but his prevailing emotion was some kind of dejection. Well, he'd wanted to treat a psychiatric patient, so now he could reap the fruits, he sneered in thoughts. Apparently, the whole deal wouldn't be easy to either of them. But what else could he do if not clench his teeth and endure that discomfort...? After all, the happy end would inevitably come.
One thing amazed him, though, but in a positive way: he could talk. Law considered himself to be a silent type who spoke only when it was absolutely necessary, his every answer being well thought-out and phrased. Just two days ago, if someone had told him he would start to recite monologues to a boy in stupor - and that it wouldn't be hard - he would have congratulated that someone on their imagination or sent onto the seventh floor right away... And yet it'd appeared that words would come to him easily and he didn't need to particularly think about them nor did he need to restrict them. When he'd finally managed to made himself think of the ill boy with warmer feelings... then it had just happened. He'd spoke what was in his heart, openly and directly. But it was true that he felt remorseful for having mistreated Rosapelo before, so being honest had been the best option, and he should maintain that tendency.
But what had got into him to talk about his past? It was what surprised him the most. He'd hardly ever spoken about those things, and now it'd just come naturally to catch onto them... Was it because his interlocutor couldn't reply...? Maybe it was easier to open one's heart to someone who could only listen...? Or maybe he'd simply felt that relating to his own disease and past situation would be the best choice? Actually, he still didn't know if recalling his own history was a good thing - after all, for some reason he'd avoided unloading all his life, right? - but if it should help in current circumstances, then why not? He didn't plan to give an account of his thirty-nine years of life... although it wasn't entirely impossible, given that today he'd said more than in the whole month, he thought with a wry smile. If Ikkaku learned of it, she would undoubtedly considered it an utter lie...
This way or another, Law could only hope he hadn't exhausted his year's supply of eloquence and that talking would come as easily from now on, too. And if Rosapelo finally spoke and ordered him to shut up... Well, then Law would be more than happy, it was beyond doubt.
He entered the lecture hall two minutes late, but it was still within standards of decency, so he only mumbled something akin to apology to the colleagues. However, before opening the session, his eyes searched for the gynaecology intern, who was sitting in the back row.
"Dr Otto," he turned to the young man, who jumped to his feet. "I kindly ask you not to report my mood to Dr Ikkaku. Or anyone else, for that matter. Do I make myself clear?"
The stifled giggles could be heard in the lecture hall. The intern went red as a lobster and nodded vigorously. It was clear that he didn't know where to look.
Law swept others with his gaze. "The same applies to everyone of you," he said, sitting down on the podium and opening his salad. "The only thing that should leave this room are medical issues. But if you really must make fun of your director, be so kind and try that it doesn't reach my ear, okay?" he added with a crooked smile, causing the whole avalanche of enraged negations and declarations of support, and even two or three smiles from the more experienced doctors who have known him for many years. "It's enough that my every gesture or action are widely commented by my employees, as if I were in some kind of a circus attraction. Is it true that the hospital bulletin has a column about me?" he threw casually, taking some food on his fork.
"No, but it's a good idea..." some jokester muttered.
Law recognised him as a psychiatry resident and pointed a fork at him. "I heard that, Dr Antero. It seems to me that Doctor is very inclined to start having duties on holidays," he said, although it didn't appear that the resident cared much.
He stifled a curse upon remembering that it was quite hard to distress a psychiatrist... to say nothing of intimidating. Moreover, they were such a strange group who liked to have duties, so that argument was useless by default... Maybe a threat of revoking the right to have duties would work better...? he asked himself. Then he realised he'd let himself be drawn into the psychiatrists' games, and even without their active involvement. Disgusting.
"Ah, let's begin already, 'cause I'd like to finish early today... Who wants to start?"
The session ended slightly before the official hour, indeed, and Law was off to the Seven before Clione's resident managed to get up from his chair. He had some twenty minutes... maybe half an hour, at the very most, if he consciously decided to be late for new admissions, although the very thought made his insides twist. In Rosapelo's situation nothing had changed, even the nurse was the same, only the sunlight was no longer coming directly inside. The boy was half-sitting, half-lying with his eyes fixed ahead. His breathing was easy, and he had his thin arms on the cover. The drip was running slowly, providing him with the necessary nutrition through the pipe.
"Hi, Pelo," Law said, pushing out the chair and activating the Ope Ope no Mi. "I dropped by, just like I promised you. I had the consultation session with other doctors, I always have it between twelve and two PM..."
He spent a moment talking about his work and closely monitoring the boy's heart rate, that increased after a few minutes; he was pleased to notice this time it happened faster than before. Clione's intuition deserved respect... although maybe it was rather the observation skill in question. Anyway, it seemed that Law was really the right treatment method in this case.
"Do you remember what I asked you about earlier?" he went on. "Is there something you'd like me to do for you? I didn't say it as a formality; I really want to hear your answer."
He had no idea how the boy's memory functioned in this condition. Even if he reacted to voice, it didn't mean that between the meetings he was aware of Law or the words he'd heard. Maybe he just 'switched on' in response to a single stimulus, Law's voice, and then 'switched off' again when the stimulus was gone... Law had heard from Clione that patients suffering from severe mental disorders often exhibited the trouble in learning and sometimes didn't register anything that happened during the period when their symptoms were the worst. He had left Rosapelo with the request to think of his question, but it was possible that the boy had ceased being aware of it the moment Law had disappeared from his sight... or, rather, hearing. It wasn't the first time Law wished that the Ope Ope no Mi made it possible to look into the thought process, although, with his rational part, he knew that in a long run something like that would be a nightmare and turn his life into absolutely unbearable...
Well, he didn't have many options here. If Rosapelo was capable of thinking, all it took for Law was to maintain the contact and slowly drag him out of his stupor; that was the more fortunate alternative. Otherwise Law would need to repeat the same words by their every meeting, talk as if every time was the first one. No-one had said it would be easy, right? What mattered was to succeed in the end, and he was - was he now? - sure of it.
"There must be something I can do to make you feel better..." he continued. "Something that will ease your grief, how do you think? Would you like me to get you something? Everyone has something that calms them down when holding to it. For me, when I was still a pirate, it was my sword. And before that, it was my hat, I had a hat made of spotted seal fur, I used to wear it for many years... Or maybe you would like something new that you could focus on...? Tell me, I'll gladly get it for you. A book, a game, maybe your favourite dish?" he kept guessing in a hope that the boy would react to some offer, but it didn't work.
Of course, he suspected that Rosapelo wished only for his mother's return or his own death... and those two things Law couldn't give to him. Yet, he had to keep trying.
"Maybe you'd like me to take you somewhere? It got warmer outside, we could go out and have a walk on the beach or go to Roger Bay. or even to the New Piece, that entertainment complex. I heard that you can stay day many days, so many attractions they have... I could take you in every place on Raftel... or even farther, although 'farther' means that we would have to take a submarine. In any case, if it only makes you feel better, just tell me where you'd like to go," he encouraged the boy.
Rosapelo's pulse was still regular and fluctuated around seventy per minute. Law strained his imagination; what else could he suggest to that child that apparently didn't want anything from him...? He drove away the unpleasant emotion that thought had brought along; it was too early to draw such conclusions... even though the indifference in Rosapelo's still eyes strongly indicated it was the case. If the psychiatric patients had been always what they seemed, then there would be no medicine in psychiatry, only violence.
"Or maybe you'd like me to do something stupid in other people's presence, as a compensation? It would be fair. I hurt you when I thought only of myself... so if I showed that my pride is worth nothing... Maybe I could, hmm... Maybe I should put a dress on, I'm sure Clione would borrow me one, and walk like that a whole day," he said seriously, although some part of him was cowering at that idea. "Well, maybe half a day, for I'm not sure if I should show myself to the new patients when looking like that. Although... for those coming here, my appearance is probably the least important. Clione would do my make-up..."
The nurse covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, but Law was determined to continue. "I could also sing a song through the P.A. system so that everyone could hear me. Believe me, I have a terrible voice and can't sing, so it certainly wouldn't make me popular... but I think I shouldn't subject my employees to such a trauma, what do you think? No, it would distress them and make them prone to mistakes, we can't have that... Ah, I know, I could make such a performance in the canteen, it would be safe. I bet everyone would be in such a shock that they wouldn't even think of talking about it outside the hospital... You should know that people follows everything I do, and with enthusiasm that is completely beyond reason. I once happened to faint in the work, and soon the whole world knew about it, for someone informed the newspapers, can you believe it...? But I'm not sure if there would be any person brave enough to inform the journalists that one day during the lunch break Trafalgar Law, the director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel, climbed on the table wearing a dress and sang... hmm, I have no idea what, but I would certainly decide on something."
Mirva had turned away a moment ago, and only her shoulders were shaking from the noiseless laughter that she couldn't contain. Law found it favourable; he had fantasy, and it was a good trait on psychiatry. He felt like smiling himself, but then he realised that maybe it didn't fit, after all.
"However, Pelo, if you think that I shouldn't talk such things, then I won't. The situation is serious, and maybe I shouldn't make fun. In that case, I apologise," he said in a solemn voice, staring at the boy's pale and perfectly emotionless face. "I only wanted you to know that I'm prepared to do anything in order to comfort you, without caring about my benefit or dignity. As I said, I behaved selfishly towards you, and I regret it. It won't happen again, I promise," he ensured.
Was it only him or had the boy's pulse really sped up? No, it was no doubt that Rosapelo's heart was beating faster than just a moment ago. Law held his breath; he suddenly felt as if he were handing the most delicate jewel that would be smashed in pieces from one hit... maybe even from a single move of air. In this case, however, being cautious was pointless; he had to clutch to everything, even the tiniest sign. It was the only way to move forwards, towards the goal.
"What do you wish to tell me, Pelo?" he asked softly, although he was boiling inside. "I'm waiting for your answer, whatever it may be."
And when the answer came, he was shocked to realise he hadn't been prepared for it, after all... and yet it filled him with joy he hadn't expected either. Rosapelo's thin neck twitched, the muscles under the strained skin moved... and the next moment the boy's head started to turn, very, very slowly. Involuntarily, Law clenched his fists until he felt the nails dig into the insides of his palms, but he was too tense to care about it. Millimetre by millimetre, centimetre by centimetre, using the muscles that had probably forgotten all about the moving, with exertion that was being expressed in his fast heartbeat... Rosapelo was turning his head towards Law, and Law was noiselessly rooting for him, feeling as if his own heart were to burst out of his chest. He said nothing; he feared to even breathe loudly so that he didn't spoil what the boy was trying to do... or maybe it was about that clenching in his throat that made any words impossible...?
Finally, the intensely blue gaze met his eyes. Rosapelo made no sound but was looking at him and seeing him. Law couldn't be mistaken; the boy's sight focused on him. Suddenly, he had no idea what to say, for his all eloquence had vanished, swept out by the chaos of emotions, all of them positive. Even if there was still no expression on Rosapelo's face, and his blue eyes seemed but two polished balls with just the light skimming over them and nothing else, Law had never been so aware of the life in the boy as he was now.
He smiled shyly, then raised one hand and waved lightly. "Hi, Pelo," he said simply, and his smile could be heard in his quiet voice. "Law here."
Nothing was reflected in the boy's wide open eyes, but Law thought it didn't really matter. He could wait. At this pace, Rosapelo would recover before Law knew it.
He was euphoric. The boy hadn't done much - he'd just turned his head to look at him - but after one and a half week of complete inactivity on his part something like that was like climbing a mountain. Law was amazed at that joy he hadn't expected. It was so simple, and so powerful in its simplicity. Trafalgar Law, who had saved lives of thousands of people using the Ope Ope no Mi, performing miracle surgeries only he was able to, had forgotten such feelings. For many years, his daily live had been filled with satisfaction with work and complex operations, as well as pride of managing the best hospital in the world. And this... This was the feeling of a rookie doctor who'd succeeded in curing his first patient from a minor complaint... or of a man who'd done a good thing. How he wished to be able to keep it...!
Rosapelo was staring at him in silence, at him and nothing else. The eyes fixed on Law weren't moving, their gaze bearing no evidence of will behind it. He was blinking evey now and then, without haste, regularly. His heart was slowing down, calming down after the effort made. It was clear he didn't mean to speak. He was just lying and staring, that was enough for him, and others had to settle with that much.
"I talked so much that you finally decided to tell me to get out?" Law joked, smiling all the time, although the sight of the boy's emaciated face wasn't pleasant, now that he could see it whole. Rosapelo's skin seemed as white as the pillow cover under his head, with the blue shadows under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks. Law wanted to remedy it somehow... but he had to be patient and do his job. "Or, rather, you decided to answer my question? I guess you can't do it with words, at least not yet...? Then, maybe... We know that you can move. You've moved your head, and it says something. Maybe you could answer me with blinking? Should we try? One blink is 'yes', no blinking is 'no'. I'm going to ask one question at a time. Let's see if it works... You are Pelo, right?"
No reaction. The boy's eyelashes didn't even budge; the blink happened later, according to the normal pace.
"You're not Pelo?" Law asked.
Nothing again. Then, the boy probably couldn't do it yet... or wasn't ready for a mutual contact. Maybe looking was all that he needed now... maybe he just wanted to know that Law was really there.
"Okay, let's leave it for later," Law decided. "No need to rush things. For now, I'm glad with what you've done. It's great that we can see each other," he said and smiled again.
Rosapelo was staring at him with his intensely blue eyes, his pulse was calm, and his breath was even. Law was under the absurd impression that the boy tried to convince him he was all right.
His inner clock told him he should go - new patients were waiting for him upstairs - but how reluctant he was to get up and break the contact... finish that amazing moment...! But there was no help. He told himself he would have to make the connection with Rosapelo anew. He was sure he would succeed.
"Pelo, I must go now. Other patients need me," he said truthfully, although it seemed almost fishy when confronted with the boy's sharp gaze and silence. "It's not that I want to go," he added, as if trying to convince him. "I mean, I do want... it's my job, and..." He broke off, aware he started gibbering. "I'll be back," he announced. He hadn't planned it, but now he was perfectly certain he had to return here; he felt like stopping the treatment halfway through, and it was awful. "I'll be back as soon as I'm finished. It will take a few hours, you'll have to wait until six, at least... but I'll certainly be back. I'll be back. Pelo," he promised with emphasis and rose.
The boy didn't reply, but - unbelievable - his gaze moved upwards, clearly following Law's movement. Law had suspected that the little patient's eyes would remain still, and yet Rosapelo followed him with his eyes! It was undoubtedly a good sign.
"Until then, you can practise blinking, so that we can have a talk," he said on an impulse and smiled again. "I think it's going to be fun. See you! I'll be back after six," he repeated, saying it also to the nurse, who nodded, and left.
For all his joy, he felt displeasure due to not being able to stay... Well, Rosapelo wasn't the first patient whose treatment needed to be scheduled for several days, but, in his condition, taking breaks wasn't good since Law had managed to make a substantial contact. What if he would have to start from the scrap when he'd come the next time...? He had to set aside much more time for the boy.
Yeah, that was it: he should reserve the fixed time for Rosapelo in his schedule. He quickly came to the conclusion it was much easier to say than do. His plan was so tight that it was close to impossible to put in it something extra... especially longer than half an hour and repetitive, even if he dropped the lunch break, which he'd already done. He couldn't shorten the surgeries - he would have to make less of them, which didn't sit well with him at all - nor could he move the consultations to another time, for they were connected to the schedules of all other doctors. But he could start new admissions later, like at three PM; that way, he would have a whole hour at his disposal... For the patients who often arrived here from halfway around the world, it was probably all the same whether the miracle-doctor saw them at four or five. Besides, it would be a temporary change only, for Rosapelo would undoubtedly start to recover in a few days.
Law didn't use to analyse his decisions in details or deliberate over all pros and cons; if they were sensible, he rather put them into effect right away. On the way to his office - a little crowd of patients and their families gathering already in front of it - he communicated the modification of his schedule to his secretary, starting tomorrow. At once, he felt better and vigorously started the new admissions.
When he finished, it was six PM sharp. Normally, it was the time he started the paper work, but now he didn't even think of it, only ran down to the seventh floor and appeared in Rosapelo's room just a bit earlier he would have appeared if he'd teleported via ROOM. However, he was disappointed: the boy was sleeping, and there was no use waking him. Well, it was logical that he didn't register the flow of time the way the healthy people did; 'after six' hadn't meant anything for him, especially that there was no clock in the room. Law spent a moment looking at the boy's sleeping face before deciding to return upstairs; he had nothing to do here.
In the hall, he ran into Clione leaving his office. Judging from the fact that the psychiatrist had an overcoat and a bag, he was undoubtedly going home. Seeing him, the head of the Seven smiled and lock the door. "I heard that the poultice of Dr Law started to work. You're really something else..." he said with admiration.
"It's you who thought of it, so the whole credit goes to you... I'm only conducting the therapy you ordered," Law muttered in reply. "But, at this pace, the treatment would end rather sooner than later. It's not my fault that the kid had fixated on me and reacts to nothing else."
"Fixated, you say... I bet it's because of your cheerful smile."
"What cheerful smile?"
"Mirva said she'd never seen you smiling like that, before," Clione explained, pressing the button to call the lift. "Or maybe she said she hadn't seen you smiling, before...?"
"Now that was a bit too harsh... or even insolent. I happen to smile isometimes/i," Law retorted.
"All right, all right... You're going to come tomorrow?"
"I am. The poultice need to be changed often..."
Clione patted him on the back and entered the lift. "But a smile is as important," he stated. "See you tomorrow!"
Law waved him goodbye. On the way to his office, he realised he'd smiled a lot today, indeed; he could feel it in his facial muscles... Now he found it strange: to smile so much to someone who didn't smile back, but earlier, when he'd talked to Rosapelo, he hadn't thought about it at all; he'd just naturally smiled.
A sudden memory struck him, making him stop dead in his track; it took him a while to resume walking, his lips pressed tight with bitterness. It was like reversing the roles. Long ago - so long he shouldn't even remember it - he'd been a small boy accepting every smile poker-faced. So many smiles, so many beams that he could practically bath in them like in a sunlight, but... He hadn't believed those smiles, hadn't trusted their genuineness; ha hadn't accepted the affection behind them. He'd defended from those smiles, waiting for them to stop... to reveal they'd been just a game, a facade doomed to fall down and smash to pieces in contact with his adamancy. But they hadn't stopped until the very end, when his reaction hadn't mattered anymore. So many times he'd berated himself for having taken so long to answer that smile. If he'd been faster, then maybe...
But second-guessing was pointless, he knew that all too well. At least, he'd learned that smile was something one should never give up on. He hadn't believed to ever use that lesson... and yet, now he was in the situation he could. And even if Rosapelo's expressionlessness almost certainly resulted from his mental state, it was the fact that the boy didn't have any reason to trust him, right...?
Nevertheless, he'd reacted to Law today...! He'd come in contact with him! It was no longer a physiological response, only a conscious action he'd decided on of his own free will...! It bode well... and Law spent a moment relishing that funny feeling in his chest evoked by remembering how the boy had sought for his eyes. He smiled again.
Then he reminded himself that it was all about the medical success. The most important thing was to make the boy recover, and that was his, Trafalgar Law's task. Slowly, step by step, he would bring Rosapelo out of his stupor, restoring him to health.
Still, no matter how logic his arguments were, he couldn't stop hoping that as soon as tomorrow he would be able to experience the joy that had fallen to him so unexpectedly today. He awaited that impatiently.