Chapter 20

In mid-March, the situation seemed much brighter.

Rosapelo's recovery process didn't happen smoothly and without disturbances, but after one month and a half since the tragic events, the boy felt much better, both in body and in soul. Physically, he recovered fully. His weight returned to normal, and he could move in a natural way. Colours were restored to his face, his body strengthened, and he seemed an average healthy teenager. His blue eyes were alive and focused, and his brown hair had grown as long that they fell on the said eyes and he had to brush them from his forehead all the time. No-one ever remembered to cut them short.

As for his psychological well-being, a full recovery was impossible, at least for now. The boy still spoke little, hardly ever asked questions spontaneously or communicated his opinions, and when he did spoke, his voice was quiet, and it seemed he had troubles with expressing himself. His movements were somewhat slow, cautious and indicated he lacked vigour and energy. For most of the time, he was calm, serious and pensive. He almost never got angry or annoyed, but sadness could be often seen in his eyes, although he no longer cried.

Law observed it with an unpleasant feeling that he could give that boy health but not happiness. It was something he wasn't accustomed to, for when he saved the terminally ill patients in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, in ninety-nine percent he fulfilled their greatest wishes, those they wouldn't admit to themselves and couldn't even believe for it to be possible. Being saved from a normally incurable disease was usually a reason to be happy... In this situation, however, the wounds in soul were much deeper than any damage to the body. Law could still remember that, even though the Ope Ope no Mi had cured him of the Amber Lead Syndrome, it hadn't changed anything in his psychological state, hadn't consoled him, hadn't eased his grief. Now, in Rosapelo's case, he had to swallow down the bitter realisation that, even if he did everything in his might, the final effect would be far from satisfactory and that particular patient would depart from Raftel only partially healthy.

It didn't change the fact that he engaged in Rosapelo's recovery process without reservation. To say that the teenager and he had become inseparable over that one month would be exaggerating, but he did spend with the boy his all free time - he even managed to be late for consultations several times, for in presence of his patient he lost track of the time - and he told himself it certainly mattered. Also, he dedicated his next day off, in March, to the boy, who was still in the custody of Clione and occupied the room in the Seven. Because Rosapelo could already move, they went to the All Baratie, where Sanji waited on them like it befitted the former cook of the Pirate King; in other words, they were received with a feast, and on the house. To tell the truth, Rosapelo didn't seem to enjoy the exquisite dishes more than milk soup and onigiri from the hospital canteen, but fortunately the greatest chef in the world didn't seem offended by the lack of enthusiastic reaction. As for other entertainments of the New Piece, they declined, for it wasn't a proper time to have fun yet, even though Nami, apparently informed by Sanji, came to them and insisted that they visited the cinema, casino or any other of the numerous attractions. Law was glad that they were spared the meeting with Luffy. Well, they were just lucky; Straw Hat had set out on another voyage just two days earlier, and shouldn't be back sooner than in a few months.

Before that, Law and Rosapelo had a difficult conversation about the funeral of the boy's mother and an even more difficult visit in the city morgue. Rosapelo wanted to glance at the woman who had born and raised him and had been his closest relative, and was gone now. Law couldn't refuse. The teenager handled it well - he'd accepted that his mother had died, and knew she would never be back - and when Law offered that the woman was buried in the Roger Bay cemetery, the boy acquiesced to it without any discussion. The hospital paid all costs. On the gravestone were carved the woman's name along with the dates of her birth and death. Law learned her name was Irma and she'd died at the age of thirty-six. He accompanied the boy both during the funeral - apart from the two of them, also Clione, Bepo and two psychiatric nurses participated in the modest ceremony - and the next visits to the grave.

Over the time, Rosapelo became the favourite of the staff of the Seven and several other persons who would gladly keep him a company when Law was busy with his work. One of them was Bepo who took a great liking to the boy, maybe because he'd met him before in the emergency unit. However, much to Law's deeply hidden satisfaction, Rosapelo would speak to others much less than to him - which meant, very little - no matter how they tried to drag him into the conversation or encourage to some activity. Of course, he showed them much less emotions than Law, too. Even Bepo, who was ready to carry him on his shoulders and fulfil his every wish, wouldn't get any spontaneous reaction out of that thirteen-year-old boy. 'I think he doesn't like me,' he used to complain to Law, who assured him it certainly wasn't the case. 'Wasn't I the same when me first met?' he asked, which made Bepo shiver all over and state, 'This world doesn't need another you,' and Law decided not to feel offended this time.

Still, he knew that Rosapelo wasn't like him. During one month and a half, he'd managed to get to know the boy quite well, for Rosapelo would talk about himself when Law asked him to. Apart from the medical issues, the boy was a perfectly ordinary kid, maybe slightly more well-behaved than his peers. In school, he was an average pupil, better in some subjects and worse in the others. He didn't possess any particular gifts or passions, but he liked to play football and read about journeys, even though he had never sailed farther than to Raftel. Of course, there was a possibility that shouldn't be ignored: that in his current state of mind, Rosapelo saw himself in an non-objective view and showed himself in a worse light than in reality; nevertheless, from his tale emerged a perfectly normal boy who'd used to live his daily life without any greater dramas. Except for the unusual blue eyes, Rosapelo didn't stand out appearance-wise, either: he was of average height and weight, and his hair were of light-brown colour. Law, who'd been surrounded with more or less distinctive personalities for the most of his life, was almost amazed that someone so ordinary could exist, but it didn't really matter. After a month of a close relationship, he couldn't imagine Rosapelo to be someone else. It was just like he'd decided: he'd accepted the boy as a whole and didn't mean to discuss with his individual traits.

The boy probably got to know him, too, for it just happened that with him Law allowed himself to be honest like he wasn't with anyone else. Maybe it was because he'd had a good start - that time when there'd been no contact with the boy and he'd rambled on and on whatever had come to his mind and what, strangely enough, had been exactly what he'd thought and felt - and later it'd just kind of flowed...? He didn't particularly wonder about it, for sharing certain things with Rosapelo seemed the most natural thing under the sun. Also, maybe he considered it a good occasion for trying to change something in his messed up psyche, an occasion that would never occur again...? After all, when he'd disclosed those painful truths about himself, all those difficult secrets from his past that he'd kept inside until then, it'd made him feel relieved; and since he was the type to learn quickly, he'd decided to keep confessing before that particular person. It didn't mean that he talked about his childhood all the time - nor did Rosapelo grill him about it - but sometimes it just happened that the situation needed a specific anecdote or a specific example that he could naturally put into the conversation, and the boy would listen carefully and never interrupt.

Although it could be only his wishful thinking in question, Law was under the impression that after their every talk, one wound closed in his soul. He didn't know how many of them were there and if it was possible to heal them all. Well, it was certain that nothing could be done about those that had already scarred up, deforming and twisting him, but maybe... maybe he could still save the whole of who he was, shape it in a better way, correct its function to get a bit closer to its original one, from long ago...? Maybe it was still possible to awake a human in him - that human that Corazon had once got out of the monster skin and whom Law himself had then turned into something equally inhuman: the emotionally annihilated best doctor in the world...?

Not that he wondered about those things on his daily basis. Most of the time, he focused on helping Rosapelo return to the normal life; that was what he put his all effort in. He was glad for the medical progress the boy made, and was sad because of his patient's sadness and tragedy. He reluctantly accepted his own limits, and sometimes he felt completely helpless when unable to provide the comfort. Rosapelo, however, was getting stronger physically, and Law had to believe that also psychologically he would recover, even though the sad expression seemed to communicate that the boy had lost all joy. Still, he'd decided to live on, and nothing indicated he planned to hurt himself, so at least one goal had been achieved. The decision to live on didn't guarantee a happiness... but it still gave a better chance for it than dying, that was beyond doubt. As far as he was concerned, Law wished Rosapelo be happy again with all his heart.

On March 20, Clione asked him for a talk.

"We have a problem," he said outright, and Law suppressed a sigh. He already knew who the conversation would be about.

"What problem?" he asked without enthusiasm.

They were sitting in the office of the head psychiatrist. It was only the first day of spring, but the beautiful weather outside made winter seem but an unpleasant memory. The sun had been beating down on Raftel day by day, the air had been warm, and flowers were blooming in the lawn in front of the hospital: crocuses, primroses, and pasqueflowers. The sky was of the intense azure blue that made Law think of Rosapelo's eyes. The ocean had colour of deep sapphire, glistening with the white of gulls floating on the waves. It was calm, and the world seemed devoid of any evil. The last month and a half had passed without any catastrophes in the vicinity, and the Corazon Memorial Hospital had been working according to the familiar routine. In such circumstances, Clione saying that they had a problem sounded almost indecent.

"Rosapelo has practically recovered..."

Law raised his eyebrows. "That is a problem?" he asked with a taunt.

Clione didn't pay any attention to his sarcasm, only replied calmly, "We can't keep him here any longer."

Law felt a prick in his chest, some kind of warning, but he consciously decided to ignore it. Of course, Rosapelo was to be discharged sooner or later, just like every patient of the hospital.

"And?"

"Where will he go?"

Now Law frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, although he had a feeling he knew it himself.

"I mean that he has no relatives," the psychiatrist explained in a voice suitable for a half-wit. "Has anyone visited him during his hospitalisation?"

Law knew that no-one had, but... "No relatives?"

"No relatives, at least not anywhere near," Clione replied in a crisp tone. "We wrote to the magistrate on Vokzel, but the answer we got is, 'no living relatives slash information unavailable'. We know that his maternal grandparents died long ago, and his aunt, his mother's only sister and much older, left the island before Rosapelo was even born and there's no contact with her. His father came from somewhere else and abandoned the family when the boy was two or three," he recounted, then looked Law in the eye and said, "The truth is, Law, that Rosapelo has nowhere to go."

Law was silent. True, he did know that the boy had lost the only member of family when his mother had died, but he didn't suspect that there were no relatives at all. He'd probably assumed that some aunts and uncles, cousins and so on lived on Vokzel... In truth, he hadn't wondered about it at all, as he hadn't about the fact that no-one had visited the boy over almost two months nor had come to pick up his mother's body. Law had known that Rosapelo had lived only with his mother, and the boy had declined having any siblings, but he'd never said that he had no-one.

He focused his sight on Clione again. "What now?"

"Why do you ask me?"

"Well... Because you always have a solution for everything," Law muttered what he actually thought.

"It flatters me," the psychiatrist replied, and the corner of his lips twitched. "Normally, I would blush..." He shook his head and his gaze turned serious again. "I don't have a solution, but it occurred to me that you could write to your nurse friend from Vokzel and ask for her help...?"

"What, should I ask her to take in the boy?" Law blurted.

Now it was Clione's turn to frown. "Law, has spring gone to your head?" he asked in a composed voice. "So far, you haven't said anything lucid during this conversation, quite the contrary... except for that compliment. No, I meant that maybe your friend could ask after Rosapelo's relatives...? Get to know something that isn't in the documents. You know her better than I. I have no-one on Vokzel that I could ask for that."

Law stifled a curse, realising that he actually had deserved the psychiatrist's comment about his thought process. The news of the boy's relatives - or, rather, their lack - had surprised him completely. Contrary to the medical, he couldn't easily remedy this problem, and such situations usually threw him off balance, even if just slightly. In any case, Clione's suggest seemed sound, even if it didn't guarantee a success, that he understood immediately.

"What if Ida doesn't learn anything? If she doesn't find anyone?"

"Then the boy will be sent to the orphanage on Vokzel," Clione replied outright, looking him in the eye. "We can't keep him here."

Law returned his gaze, trying to take in those words. He didn't quite succeed, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Unless, of course, we don't decide to adopt him, you and me, and live like a happy family," the psychiatrist added with a sweet smile.

Unlike his previous statement, that immediately help Law regain his ability of quick thinking. "Spring has gone to your head, too, for talking such nonsense," he snapped back. "That was an extremely unfunny joke. I'm not going to marry you."

"Well, we can always live in sin..." Clione replied, rolling his eyes.

Law fell speechless again, and he only stared at the colleague for a longer while. He was under the impression that the head of the Seven had discovered the new reserves of absurd and had decided to use them.

"What sin? What the hell are you talking about, Clione?" he finally asked in a weak voice; then, however, he quickly raised his both hands, realising he hadn't met a single normal psychiatrist yet and it apparently wouldn't happen anytime soon. "No, I didn't ask," he corrected... and then added without even planning, "Besides, it's you who dumped me, no?"

Clione fluttered his eyelashes. "Are you going to rub it in my face forever...?" he asked theatrically.

Law closed his eyes to open them only after several seconds. "This conversation is more stupid than any we've had so far. I'm going to pretend it never happened," he stated. "Fine, I'll contact Ida and convey your request to her. Do you need me for anything else? No? Then, I'm off. I'm busy," he informed, got up and made for the door.

"Just don't forget," Clione said after him.

"I have no dementia yet," Law replied under his breath.

"I'm only concerned about some 'mysterious' amnesia," the psychiatrist mumbled.

Law glanced over his shoulder and shook his head in disapproval before exiting.

Over the last weeks, he'd managed to forget that Clione could be so annoying. Despite spending a lot of time on the Seven, he'd rarely run into its head doctor. Clione wasn't someone whom Law needed on his daily basis, and thus he hadn't noticed that recently the psychiatrist hardly ever showed his face around him... It was only now that he found it suspicious, although he couldn't think of any reason why Clione should avoid him. Well, treasure to a man who managed to figure out a psychiatrist's motives... Law could think of it for a month straight, and he still wouldn't get it, so he could as well spare himself that pleasure now.

He returned to what they'd talked about... So Rosapelo had no-one - really, no-one - who could take care of him? Law had never inquired about his family... mostly because it didn't interest him. But, in that context, his mother's death - tragic enough on its own - became even more cruel. According to the magistrate, he had no relatives on Vokzel, the only lead being the aunt that had departed from the island years ago. Of course, maybe there were some cousins of second or third degree, but the letter hadn't mentioned them, so they probably lived somewhere else...

Asking Ida for help was a good idea, but could the nurse learn anything? Clione probably thought she would go and ask the neighbours of the boy and his mother, and so on... Someone - maybe Mrs Irma's good friend? - might remember something, like, where her older sister had gone to. It was quite an unpleasant task, at least from Law's point of view, as the only relationship he wanted to have with other people was a doctor-patient relationship. He could never go door to door and inquire about the events from the past; the very idea made a shiver run down his spine. When he'd been still a pirate, it'd been his crew responsible for gathering information; he'd been there to analyse it.

Okay, he returned to the issue at hand, what if Ida learned nothing? Well, they could put a notice in the world newspapers and hope that some relatives would step forward. As far as Law could tell, the boy's name was quite rare, so listed with the name of the island would undoubtedly indicate this Rosapelo. What if that didn't work, either? Clione had said that the boy would be sent to an orphanage, which sounded... bad. But was there any other option? Rosapelo was only thirteen; at this age, a normal kid couldn't take care of himself and live on his own. Nevertheless, the chances that a stranger took him in and offered him a shelter were small...

Hmm, maybe Law should ask around other doctors or even draw up a petition to his employees that someone adopted the boy...? The personnel of the hospital was well over one thousand people; surely, there would be someone willing to...? He pretty much liked that solution; no only would Rosapelo stay on Raftel, at least for some time, but he would be taken care of by someone willing to do so, not forced to it. What if the distant relatives considered the boy as a nuisance and taken him in only because they felt obliged to...?

Law had a temptation to never write to Ida... but in the end, he fought it. From a legal perspective, kinship was given the precedence, and Rosapelo could be in an unpleasant situation if he were adopted without knowledge or consent of his living relatives. Besides, Law should hold his horses; the matter required a methodical approach, and he should move to the next stage only after the previous hadn't given the result. It was pointless to worry in advance.

He realised, however, that the thought of parting with Rosapelo didn't fill him with enthusiasm. Over the last month, the boy had become a part of his daily life. Law had spent with him every moment he had at his disposal. It was hard to imagine Rosapelo leaving Raftel one day. What would Law do, having so much time on his hands? He couldn't quite remember how his days had been before the boy had appeared, even though it'd been just two months ago... and for thirteen previous years. They'd been probably filled with working, working and working even more: from morning to evening, without resting, with only short lunch breaks. He realised he didn't find it endearing: the thought of getting back to that...

The thought of work, however, reminded him that Rosapelo was a patient, and that was why Law had spent so much time with him, in the first place. It was natural that a patient whose treatment was over would leave a hospital. Even if Rosapelo's case wasn't typical, the boy had been an ill person in need of help. It was Law's primary idea: to restore his health, regardless of the length of the therapy. That Rosapelo would leave the Corazon Memorial Hospital - and, according to Clione, his treatment was almost done - was a happy thing, and Law should stick to it.

"Why didn't you tell me that you have no relatives here?" he asked the boy the next time they met.

"You didn't ask," Rosapelo replied quietly.

"True... But it somewhat complicates the things. As if they weren't complicated already," Law muttered. "Soon, we'll be able to discharge you, that's the opinion of out favourite psychiatrist. The question is, where will you go?"

The boy said nothing.

They were sitting by the table in his room, that was now looking entirely different it had one month ago. There were some enlarged photographs of distant places hanging on the wall. Books and magazines were lying on the bedside table and the windowsill. A small wardrobe was full of clothes provided by the nurses. The room no longer resembled a sterile place in a clinic; it had turned into much a more personalised space of someone who stayed here for a longer while.

Rosapelo himself had long since stopped wearing the hospital pyjamas - psychiatry was the only ward that the patients were allowed to dress in their normal clothes - and had put on trousers, T-shirt and a hoodie. Most of the time, he stayed in his room, for he didn't feel particularly comfortable in the common spaces of the Seven. He was the only underage patient on the ward; then again, there was no guarantee that, had any children come, they would like to spend time with him. However, whenever possible, he was being brought out to the park or the beach by Law or someone else, so that he could get some fresh air. For obvious reasons, the windows in psychiatry couldn't be opened.

"The magistrate on Vokzel informed us that you have an aunt... It's your mom's sister, right?" Law resumed the conversation after the prolonged silence.

"I've never met her," Rosapelo answered.

"Was your mom in contact with her? Did you get any letters?"

The boy shook his head. "No. Mom rarely talked about her."

"What's her name?" Law asked belatedly.

"Aila. Aunt Aila."

The silence fell again. The gulls were piercing the air outside, and their screams could be heard even through soundproof windows.

"And your grandparents?" Law asked after a moment.

"They died before I was born."

"Any second cousins...?" Law kept asking, although he had the impression his effort was pointless.

Rosapelo shook his head again, and Law suppressed a sigh. It seemed that the boy's relatives were either dead or didn't want to have anything to do with him. As for the father, Law wasn't going to ask about him at all... If the man had left his wife and a two or three-year-old child, he wasn't someone to be trusted with the boy, that one was beyond doubt.

"My grandparents came from somewhere else. That's why I have no relatives on Vokzel..." Rosapelo added in an apologetic voice.

"Don't worry about it. We'll think of something," Law tried to comfort him, although the situation looked quite bad. "What would you like to do today?"

In the end, taking advantage of fine weather, they decided to have a walk on the beach. Law reminded Rosapelo to put on the jacket, as the boy seemed to attach to attention to the temperature outside. It wasn't that he didn't feel cold; he just wouldn't think of dressing appropriately for the weather. Law had once asked about it but hadn't got any answer, so he'd come to the conclusion that it could be some complication of depression that would recede sooner or later. According to Clione, something like that couldn't be ruled out, especially that Rosapelo occasionally seemed quite absent.

It was calm today. The swans were floating by the shore, fed by two elderly women from the city. A ship crossed the bay - judging from the size, a long-distance liner - to disappear beyond the horizon soon. All in all, the walk was quite pleasant, but on their way back something that Law hadn't expected happened. Rosapelo tripped on an invisible obstacle and fell on the stone path before Law managed to react. When the boy got up, he had a painful expression on his face, although he didn't make any sound.

"You've broken your arm," Law said without any emotion.

Rosapelo only nodded, and it was when Law came to his senses.

"Sorry, I'll take care of it. ROOM."

It was easier to teleport to his office than the boy's room, so that was where they went. Over the last month, Rosapelo had managed to get used to the sudden changes in location - before he'd regained his physical strength, Law would occasionally use the Ope Ope no Mi to take him from psychiatry to other places - so he didn't even blink. Law seated him on the coach.

"Lie down, it won't take long," he said.

Rosapelo did as he was told, and then Law put him into sleep to cure his fracture. Both bones of the forearm were broken, but fortunately without dislocation, so treatment really didn't take long. Just like before, Law didn't find any abnormality in the boy's organism. In his memory, he recalled the scene he'd just witnessed, although there wasn't really much to recall. Rosapelo had been walking at a leisurely pace and then suddenly had fallen forward and down. He couldn't have tripped over anything - the road was even, tiled with the stone plates - except for his own legs. As a doctor, Law didn't want to accept that the boy was clumsy by nature, not when that clumsiness had harmful effects on his health. Rosapelo wasn't a superhuman with unnatural physical endurance whom even setting himself aflame couldn't hurt...

Law sat down on the floor and rested his back on the coach. Rosapelo would sleep for a moment; Law could use that time for a quick revising the facts about the boy's health. Rosapelo had started to come to the Corazon Memorial Hospital with the fractures last year. Law had met him during the third hospitalisation, when he'd heard from the boy himself about two previous fractures. It wasn't that he'd been breaking his bones from birth, only during the last year; the problem has started then, which ruled out the innate clumsiness. Also, Law remembered Rosapelo's mother saying that the boy had just started to trip often, which hadn't happened earlier. The sudden problem with keeping balance couldn't result from growing up, either, for the boy hadn't entered the growth spurt.

However Law wished to see it, everything indicated some pathological process. The thing was that he still couldn't find it.

When the boy came to, he smiled to him wryly. "Any better?" he asked.

The boy sat up and raised his hands, then moved it up and down several times. "Yes."

"You know what, Pelo? I think it's too early to discharge you," Law stated, and it was probably the wisest thing he'd said today.

Rosapelo looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "I guess so," he said quietly.

For some reason, Law was relieved.

Ida's reply came as soon as four days later.

I'm so happy I can be of some use to you. I'm indebted to you and your hospital, so I'll always be glad to help you. I feel somewhat responsible for that particular matter, because I travelled with Mrs Irma and Rosapelo to Raftel during that dreadful storm. According to your suggestion, I tried to learn about the two of them in the house they'd lived in, not that it was particularly difficult. Mrs Irma was liked by everyone around, she'd been a polite and helpful person, and her neighbours were truly saddened upon learning she is dead, but they were also grateful for the information, because they'd had no idea where the two had suddenly disappeared. Mrs Irma and her son lived in the tenement house in the city centre and, fortunately, their neighbours were mostly elderly people. I write 'fortunately' because you can learn quite a lot from the old people, as they use to remember many events from the past. Because Mrs Irma had been so popular among her neighbours, many of them wanted to talk about her. Among them was an old lady called Fanny, who had been friends with Mrs Irma's mother, that is, Rosapelo's grandmother. Here is what I learned:

Mrs Irma's parents, Elina and Vasco, came from another island and settled down on Vokzel as a young, newly-wed couple. They never talked about their past, just as if they had cut themselves off it, but Elina once mentioned that they'd got married against their parents' will, and that was why they'd been forced to leave their homeland. They were quickly blessed with their eldest daughter, whose name is Aila. Irma, for her part, was twelve years younger! According to the neighbours, the sisters didn't have a good relation because Irma was spoiled by her parents while Aila was moved to the background. Irma, very trusting and wishing well to anyone, didn't even suspect that her older sister could despise her, and it was even worse. The girls had different characters, too: Aila was tenacious, used to say what she thought without caring about the feelings of other people, while Irma was good-natured, calm and polite. Of course she was the favourite of everyone in the neighbourhood. If Aila heard day by day about how bad she was, and was compared to the younger sister, it couldn't have possibly affected their mutual relation in a positive way. To tell the truth, I somehow sympathise with her.

As a teenager, Aila often said that she would leave the island as soon as she turned adult. She planned to become a journalist and travel the world. The events, however, shaped differently, as the girls' mother began to suffer from a heart condition, and it only worsened until she could no longer tend to the house and her younger child. The girls' father worked in a mine, so he was often absent from home or resting. Aila, without really wanting that, had to take up her mother's duties. When Irma was thirteen, Mrs Elina died, and Mr Vasco followed her soon; he died in an accident. Aila was Irma's only relative - there was no-one else who could take care of the girl - so she'd had to postpone her plans for the future again, which must have been very hard. To provide for herself and her sister, she wrote to the local paper because the allowance wasn't enough to support them financially. I suppose the work was her solace - she could do what she liked - and that was why she managed to cope with the situation she'd been forced into.

When Irma turned sixteen, a young man called Rivel started to adore her, and they would eventually get married. Aila was against that relationship because Rivel didn't seem a particularly trustworthy man, but you can't win against love and fascination (I know that by myself). According to some people, Rivel was the last straw, but I think that Aila only waited for an occasion... for the day when she could get out of Vokzel. After Irma's seventeenth birthday, Aila set out on the sea and planned to never return. Irma accepted Rivel's proposal, maybe because she was left with no family, and it's hard for a seventeen-year-old girl to live all alone. Of course, at first, Rivel adored her like a queen, but as the time passed, his young wife couldn't engage him any more, and he started to leave home, his absence turning longer every time. People suspected that he was involved in some 'shady deals', for he never had a decent work, and even if he found one, he wasn't able to keep it. It seems, however, that he didn't succeed with his 'shady deals' either, because the couple had only as much money as for the basic needs, and in the end Irma had to contribute to the household budget with her own work, that was embroidery. Personally, I think that if someone is a good-for-nothing by nature, he wouldn't succeed in any field, and that man seems to me as one: that type who is attracted by fast money that doesn't require any effort. But our world doesn't work that way.

Rosapelo was born after seven years, when the marriage existed more on paper than in reality. One could even wonder if Rivel is the boy's father, but the man never denied it, and Mrs Fanny claims that the two of them bear a physical resemblance, even though it's the only thing that Rosapelo took after his father, fortunately. In any case, that man wasn't cut for a family life - by then, he must have been completely bored with his wife, and the role of a father didn't suit him. Suffice it to say, that one day he disappeared for good. Rosapelo wasn't even three then and probably can't remember him at all. Mrs Irma never spoke of her husband again, although it doesn't seem like she hated him. Many people that I spoke with, described her as a good and honest woman who never wished anyone bad or complained. After Rivel's leaving, she continued to provide for the family with her embroidery; since she was very gifted, she had no shortage of orders. She and Rosapelo didn't have to starve, and the boy had all school books and supplies, but their life was rather modest nonetheless.

So much about Irma and Rivel. Let's move to Aila, who left Vokzel twenty years ago. You wrote that according to Rosapelo she never contacted her sister, and my sources (the neighbours) confirm it. Aila realised her dream and became a journalist. At first, she wrote about travelling, but later she went over to politics and, in the end, she became a war correspondent. Her articles were being published even in the worldwide press, and when I checked out the library, I managed to find some. However, it seems she no longer works as a journalist, but I don't know the reason. I called several newspaper offices, also the one she'd worked for as the latest, and I got a contact address they had in their archives. It's the only piece of information, the only trace of her I managed to get, although I don't even know if that address is valid. Because we have nothing else, I sent a letter via express mail - it's somewhere in the first half of the New World - and now I'm awaiting the answer. I included the number of my Den Den Mushi, if they'd rather called me. I have no idea how long should I wait, but I promise to contact you in one week, and I hope I would be wiser by then.

Law read the letter two times. He was greatly impressed; Ida had managed to learn so much in just a few days. If she hadn't been a nurse by vocation, she would do greatly as a detective... They still didn't have any concretes at hands, but there was at least some piece of information that they could hold to and that might lead them to Rosapelo's living relatives.

Then, however, he felt doubtful. Even if they managed to contact Rosapelo's aunt, would that woman wish to take care of her nephew that she'd never seen and probably didn't even know about? Moreover, according to the letter, Aila wasn't fond of the boy's parents, and she had been forced to give up on her plans to look after her little sister. Even suspecting her of the best intentions, Law couldn't quite imagine that woman be enthusiastic upon the thought of once more taking care of an underage relative.

Well, they would worry about it when - if - Aila contacted them. It was an old address, the woman hadn't been apparently heard of for a longer while, and many things may have happened since then. There was a substantial possibility that the piece of information Ida had got wouldn't be of any use. Law was under the vague impression that was what he counted for.

Rosapelo's recurrent fractures bothered him, as was the thought of the boy leaving the hospital without getting any better in that matter. In the end, Law decided to perform a detailed scanning of his body... that was, even more detailed than before. He realised he may have missed something. All patients that came to him had their disease either diagnosed or so advance it was evident: one scan with the Ope Ope no Mi, and everything was clear. As Law used to cure incurable or hopeless conditions, he didn't meet people who seemed to be healthy.

This time, however, someone like that happened to be here. Rosapelo wasn't terminally ill, had no long-term symptoms and, apart from the fractures, was a picture of health. It could be that the routine check by the Ope Ope no Mi was negative because the pathological changes were microscopic or scarce, or both. That was why Law decided to 'divide' the boy's body into parts and systematically check them one by one, having a close look at... well, maybe not at every cell, but something like that. Of course, such a process would take a longer while, but there was no hurry.

Law still couldn't tell if the problem was in the boy's muscles or the nervous system - or maybe something else? The bones were without fault, no matter how many times Law examined them. Rosapelo consistently denied feeling dizzy or weak before his falls. From his point of view, he just suddenly lost his balance, tripped, couldn't take a normal step. It indicated some kind of movement disorder, but what could be the cause? That was a mystery. Law had to believe that a detailed diagnostics - the most detailed he'd ever done - would be effective and provide him with some answers.

"Am I correct that, the first time, you fell down the stairs? It was your leg, right?" he asked the next day. "Could you tell me how it happened?"

"I was descending the staircase in our house. I was almost down, I had only three or four steps left, but then my leg kind of got sloppy and I fell forward. I think the bone was broken when I hit the step, as the whole weight was concentrated there," Rosapelo answered matter-of-factedly.

"It was probably so," Law agreed. "Do you remember if you hit your head?"

"No. I only bruised my shoulder but didn't broke it. I wore a thick jacket, it was winter... One year ago."

"Are you certain you didn't hurt your head when falling?" Law asked again.

"I am."

"Mhm."

So much for the theory that the first tumble - perfectly accidental - might have caused a damage to the brain. And Rosapelo did remember that his leg had 'got sloppy', which had happened later, too. What was the next step in the algorithm...?

"Law-san...?" the boy's hesitating voice broke his reverie.

"Yes?"

"Are my frequent fractures a problem?" Rosapelo asked in a quiet voice, staring down.

Law remained silent for a moment. "A bit," he replied in the end. "Because I don't know what causes them. It's slightly embarrassing that the greatest doctor in the worlds can't find the reason why they happen," he explained with a crooked smile.

"But for you..." Rosapelo uttered.

"For me?" Law repeated in astonishment. "Why should it..." He frowned upon realising what the boy really asked. "Wait a moment, Pelo. Do you think you give me a trouble? Is that what you meant?"

The boy said nothing.

Law sighed. "Pelo, don't you even think that. You're not a problem and will never be," he said with emphasis. "The problem is only your strange affliction, but I'm going to take care of it. Hospital is a place that people with diseases come to, and we treat them, that's all," he explained calmly. "A patient shouldn't feel guilty for their disease... Well, maybe if he brought it upon himself, then a bit of remorse wouldn't harm him. But as far as I can tell, you don't break your bones on purpose."

Rosapelo nodded.

"In any case, it seems you're going to stay here a bit longer because I plan to give you a detailed scan."

The boy glanced up at him. "A bit longer?" he asked.

"Yes."

Rosapelo seemed to be wanting to inquire about something more, but in the end he gave up and only nodded.

"I promise you that-" Law started and stopped. He wanted to guarantee the boy that he would leave the hospital perfectly healthy and would never suffer from the fractures again, but he realised that he couldn't promise that, despite his best intentions. That was why he only repeated, "I'll take care of it," and felt like he was, in fact, cheating.

Rosapelo, however, nodded again. He didn't seem to despise him for his imperfection. "All right," he said.

Law smiled lightly and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. He had a lot of work to do.