Bonus
Law took a deep breath and lifted his hand. No, he wasn't going to hesitate. Now that he'd made his decision, all it took was to put it into action - no matter how absurd it seemed - and it was one of his few virtues to quickly bring his plans into force. He knocked. The door was plain, perfectly ordinary and nothing about it revealed that the room it led to housed the greatest freak of the Corazon Memorial Hospital. That conclusion was followed by another: out of them two, Clione was much more normal... and certainly more sane. There was nothing pleasant about realising it, but being honest with himself would surely pay.
Upon hearing the familiar voice, Law pressed the handle and entered. The moment the door closed behind him, and without waiting for greetings and questions, he announced, "Saturday, 6 PM."
Clione looked at him, putting down the paper he'd been reading. "What?" he asked, knitting his brows.
"We're going on a date."
The psychiatrist said nothing only kept staring at him from behind his desk and blinking occasionally.
Law felt disappointed and almost offended; he'd awaited much more enthusiastic reaction. "Of course, if you have different plans, I can very easily find another way to occupy myself," he said coldly.
Clione twitched. "You said 6 PM, right?"
Law nodded, graciously deciding that he could forgive him this one time. After all, Clione had every right to be surprised... "We're going to the All Baratie. I'll come get you."
The psychiatrist contained his smile, but something flashed in his eyes. "I'm going to put on my best dress," he declared.
"I thought it was obvious," Law replied haughtily, then turned around and left without a word. He feared that his day's supply of courage/eloquence/composure/tenacity delete where applicable had just run out.
It was early September. It had been a month since the dramatic events, their memory filling Law with deep embarrassment and every time posing a question how could he have been so stupid. Apparently, he had a tendency towards going from one extreme to another. In any case, he currently was going through the phase of realising his own egoism and attempting to compensate to everyone who had fallen a victim to it... or something like that. He started from Rosapelo, who he spent his all free time with... or, rather, who he tried to make as much free time as possible for.
After one month of living nearly in a symbiosis, the teenager's desperate eyes clearly said he needed some break and his own space. Rosapelo was relieved whenever he visited Franky, who designed a special anti-fall equipment for him. The cyborg rose to great heights of engineering art and needed only two weeks to - basing on air cushions used by mermaids - construct a gravitation-regulating device that not only enabled Rosapelo to move more easily, but also made any fall impossible. It was just a temporary solution - and not devoid of downsides, the most serious being the negative impact on the boy's already bad bone density - and Rosapelo's activity remained limited anyway, but thanks to that invention the teenager didn't need to stay in bed, and in the late August he and Law could return home. Although Rosapelo tried not to show it - especially after his passionate promises to spend even ten years in the hospital, if needed - he was very happy to go back to school.
And when school started, Law had no choice but to occupy himself with other things... and came to remember other people. Well, it was rather that now, when he could enjoy his happiness without reservation, it became more and more clear to him that he owed it not only to Rosapelo and himself. He didn't understand it at once, rather bit by bit and unconsciously, at first. But once he realised that his life could have looked very differently now, one particular person started showing in his head, whose contribution had been essential; without it, nothing that had happened in regard to Rosapelo, wouldn't have happened. The truth was, if not for Clione, Trafalgar Law would've continued his sad existence without even realising how sad it was. The psychiatrist deserved a decent thank-you, that much was obvious.
And when that thought occurred to him, Law suddenly noticed that he hadn't seen Clione for a longer while. At first glance, there was nothing strange to it; after all, that was how their contact had looked for many years: Law's monthly visits on the ward one floor down and rare visits of the chief psychiatrist in his office, whenever the head of the Seven needed something from him. So, it could be concluded that their relation had simply gone to normal after that intensive period of treating Rosapelo's depression last year... and yet it suddenly started bothering Law, that impression getting stronger every day. Now he could clearly see that when he'd started a family with Rosapelo, then Clione had receded to the background that he use to leave - or that Law drew him from - only when it was necessary. Law was aware that it was how he'd always treated people - he associated with them only when he needed them for something - but now, maybe for the very first time in his life, it made him uncomfortable. And he knew he wasn't being fair.
For his part, Clione wouldn't seek for his company, nor would he, regardless of the situation, violate the zone Law had long ago put around himself to diligently guard its borders. Well, almost everyone acted that way, maybe except for Bepo, but friendship of any mink was marked by disregarding any borders, especially physical ones... In Clione's case, there was also that thing of his... hmm, infatuation (although Law suspected that calling it 'infatuation' was a big understatement on his part). For most of the time, Law had managed to ignore it, and he'd done it so well that he'd actually forgotten about it altogether and would treat Clione's coquetry like his natural manner, instead of reading something more in it... especially that the psychiatrist had a much more unnerving trait, namely his psychoanalytic tendency. Now, however, Law could no longer remain oblivious to Clione's feelings, not after the psychiatrist had told him about it, himself. It hadn't changed anything between them, but Law could understand where the distance his friend kept came from.
On the one hand, he was amazed that someone could have such feelings for him, in the first place, and so constant, on top of it. On the other hand, he reluctantly respected Clione for needing so little and knowing he had no chance for any more. Because, in fact, of them two, it was Law who always got incomparably more: affection, support and, above all, wise advices and instructions. Even if the psychiatrist seemed annoying, there was no doubt he was a remarkable specialist in his field and could perfectly grasp all complexity of a human mind, while emotions and behaviours were an open book to him. On his part, Law was a master at ignoring all psychological domain, both his own and other people's. Well, it was a common knowledge that surgery and psychiatry were opposites, ha ha...
In any case, Law reached the stage of seeing clearly he owed Clione much more he might have ever suspected - and now was the high time to pay back... hence the idea of a 'date'. Of course, it wasn't supposed to be a real date; nevertheless, he couldn't think of a better way to make his friend happy. Once he made his decision, all that was left was to realise it... and yet it took him several days until he managed to knock on that particular door on the seventh floor.
Finally, Saturday arrived, and tension hadn't decreased a bit. He'd had too many days to think of what might happen on that pseudo-date... But he had to face it like a man. He was one of the most powerful people in the world, capable of things that were impossible for others - honestly, he should be able to spend one evening with Clione, right...? Besides, it wasn't about his pleasure, but someone else's joy, and it should be the sufficient motivation to do his best...? With this kind of arguments he tried to boost his courage, but his nervousness was so obvious it didn't escape Rosapelo's attention.
"Anything happened?" the teenager asked after Law had cursed under his breath before the mirror as he'd managed to drop a comb twice already.
"I'm going on... on a date."
Rosapelo's eyes became round like the balls, which was an expected reaction... contrary to the words that followed. "With Clione-san?" the boy said, and there was no real question in his voice.
Law looked at him, offended. "Does everyone think that Clione is the only person I could go on a date with?" he asked with annoyance.
"Well... isn't he?"
Law felt like grinding his teeth at such a cheeky answer... but he didn't want to inquire whether the foundation of such belief was the fact that Clione was the only person who would bother their head about someone so psychologically messed like Law, or, rather, the two of them were considered a perfect match. He didn't know which option was the worse, and he decided not to think of it. Suffice it to say that Rosapelo was probably right. Faked or not, Law couldn't imagine going on a date with anyone else. The reason for that might be that Clione had suggested it long ago, early enough that Law had grown used to that idea... or something. He shook his head and left the boy's words without any comment.
Fortunately, Rosapelo wasn't yet the age when kids became interested in romantic stuff, so Law was spared any, given in good faith, comments about appearance or behaviour. The boy limited himself to wishing him good luck, although it seemed to Law he did his best not to burst into laughter. Law had the urge to make him realise it wasn't a real date, but, for some reason, he didn't do it. In any case, it seemed that his kid didn't oppose the idea itself... which, aside from the overall context, made him happy.
However, when at 6 PM sharp he knocked on Clione's door, he wished he'd been given some kind hints, after all. The psychiatrist looked him up and down and sighed. "Well, you are handsome enough to look good in your normal clothes, too. But where are the flowers?"
'I'm not wearing a white coat,' Law wanted to answer, but he realised the flower thing was much more important. "What would you do with them now?" he replied without thinking. "You'll get some when we get there."
Clione beamed like the sun in the middle of the summer and locked the door, while Law frantically tried to remember if there was a florist's in the New Piece... and what flowers the psychiatrist liked.
"I hope it will be roses," Clione said in an innocent voice, as if reading his mind, and Law decided he would be damned if he thanked for such a good will.
"We're off," he declared glumly and raised his arm to grab the psychiatrist and teleport straight to their destination. Something told him, however, that it shouldn't be like that, and he checked himself in the last moment. "I mean..."
Clione, still smiling, went to his side and slipped one hand under his arm, then looked up at him and said, "I'm ready."
Law tried not to roll his eyes; instead, he nodded and activated the Ope Ope no Mi, and three seconds later they were standing in front of the greatest entertainment complex in the New World. It was very crowdied today - which was perfectly understandable in the first weekend after the summer holidays - but Law made directly for the restaurant, looking for the flower shop and trying to ignore everything else, including the familiar faces that he saw as much as seven in the first five minutes. Luck was on his side, as he spotted a florist's very close to the All Baratie; its name was 'Cosmos', and it provided him with a bouquet of red roses. In the most elegant gesture he could muster - which seemed like he did his best to refrain from forcibly pushing it - he handed it to Clione, driving away the feeling it was so very absurd. Yet, the psychiatrist appeared as someone who'd just been given a star from the sky, which was desirable, so Law shouldn't bother his head with less important matters.
When they took their seats in the private box - Sanji poured them sparkling wine and informed he would come in a few minutes to take their order - silence fell, and at last Law found it oppressing. What else could he have expected, though? He drank the whole glass, wondering how he would manage to survive the next few hour when he didn't really want to be here. Such things, however, didn't help, he just had to stick with it... and, besides, it was him who'd suggested it, so he was responsible for everything. He suppressed a sigh and looked at his companion sitting across the table.
Contrary to him, Clione seemed perfectly relaxed. He was smiling serenely, slowly drinking his wine and occasionally glancing at the bouquet. Finally he put the glass down, rested one elbow on the table and one cheek on the hand, and gave him a questioning look. That made Law lose even more confidence, and he tried to think of something to say, but there was only one thing in his head, 'I invited him on a date... On a date...'
"I've never done it before," he muttered, more to himself than Clione.
"Me neither," the psychiatrist replied cheerfully.
Law frowned. "Really?"
Clione nodded. "Sure. After all, I vowed to remain faithful to you for the whole eternity," he confessed in a completely calm voice, and his words would sound like a joke if they hadn't come with a risk of being perfectly true.
"I don't remember," Law slurred.
"You never asked," Clione replied and drank his wine.
Law felt annoyed, although his annoyance was rather directed at himself. He should have expected they wouldn't avoid talking about that. The only way to avoid was to take up other topics; the thing was, none would come to his mind. What could they talk about? Work? Weather? It seemed completely out of place... Suddenly, Law realised he wasn't capable of having a normal, private conversation. Not only with Clione but anyone. Well, maybe except Rosapelo, but it didn't help in this situation. Damn...
"In any case, it seems neither of us has been on... ah, on a date, so far," Clione's voice broke his reverie. "It means that we just have to settle our own canon, without following someone else."
"Our own..." Law repeated, looking at him with a frown. "Like... What? We're going to do it again?" he asked tentatively.
Clione's lips twitched, but he didn't address that idea only suggested, "For starters, you may tell me that I... if I look nice."
Law was under the impression that the psychiatrist had a lot of fun, but was it anything new? It didn't prevent him from answering with confidence, "You look nice."
But, to tell the truth, Clione always looked nice. Contrary to most transvestites Law knew, he never overdid his make-up and dressed tastefully. Of course, at the first glance, it was obvious he wasn't a woman, but, for a man, he was pretty comely - he had quite delicate features - and he moved gracefully, so he didn't seem a travesty of the fair sex. If Law were to make a ranking of those okama that were a pleasant sight, Clione would certainly make it to Top 3.
Today the psychiatrist had put on a dark blue dress - he must have liked that colour, as Law would often see him wearing it - with a pearl necklace and the pearl earrings. His fair hair was, like always, pinned high, and his eyes were enhanced with turquoise shadow, as were his long nails.
Law blinked, having realised that... "You scolded me, while you haven't put on any evening wear yourself," he said with reproach.
Clione snorted with laughter. "Well, I'm wearing slightly higher heels than normally," he objected. "And this dress and these pearls are the most expensive things I possess, so let's agree that it's the best outfit I could put on. To say nothing of these perfume that costed me half of my month pay. I use them only for special occasions."
Law felt the corners of his lips twitch. Despite himself, he felt an urge to ask about those 'special occasions', but then Sanji came to take their order. In the end, they went with the world best chef's choice, and when he left again, the atmosphere wasn't so tense anymore.
"Do you have other suggestions?" Law asked. "You got flowers and a compliment... What next? Maybe I don't look it, but I'm a quick learner."
"That's à propos doing it again?" Clione guessed. "If you want it, I'll make myself really pretty the next time, I promise," he assured eagerly and winked at him. "I'm going to look much more extravagant."
Law ignored that offer. "It was à propos this evening, at the very most," he retorted, but then he asked with hesitation (as he didn't use to take interest in his colleague's private life), "You really... haven't been on a date before?"
Now the psychiatrist's eyes flashed with surprise, but he shook his head. "I haven't."
"But surely someone must have invited you...?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because..." Law started and then stopped. What exactly did he want to say? 'Because you're quite attractive'? No, he would never be able to say it, even if he really thought so...? In the end, he awkwardly declared, "Because it wouldn't be anything strange. And now those fancy clothes and jewellery go to waste..."
Clione knitted his brows slightly. "Law, you've probably noticed that I'm gay and a transvestite, which limits quite much the amount of possible candidates for a date," he replied calmly. "That's the first thing. The second is, I'm a psychiatrist, which limits that amount even more. People... well, are scared of our kind. They rarely feel comfortable around us," he explained, which Law could understand quite well. "And the third..." he averted his eyes. "The third you should realise yourself," he muttered, moving his index finger down the side of the glass. "I wouldn't go for a date with anyone else, I'd rather stay home and read. To tell the truth, the first two are just the excuses," he admitted, very honest for him.
Law thought there was nothing wrong with staying home and reading... Actually, it wouldn't occur to him it was the worse option than going on a date. He knew that Clione was a bookworm and his private library was probably the biggest on Raftel... maybe except for that in the Pirate King's palace.
He shook his head, trying to focus on important thing. "Did you never think of giving up on me?" he asked, although he hadn't planned it, but once he did it, he felt there was nothing wrong in asking that.
Clione gave him an astonished look; obviously, he hadn't expected that, either. Then he slowly shook his head. "There's only one Trafalgar Law," he said quietly. "And I... I think I'm that kind of a guy that can love only once," he mumbled and covered his face with his hands.
Law looked down. He realised it was the first time he saw Clione embarrassed, and it made him feel pretty weird. But probably everyone would feel this way, having suddenly discovered that his colleague, too, was a human...? He wasn't sure if he liked it - it seemed safer to have only professional relations with others - but the matter itself was too important so that he could brush it aside and pretend it didn't exist... especially in the face of offered honesty. On the one hand, he still couldn't imagine he was sitting here and having this conversation... but on the other hand, he was under the impression it could be the only safe occasion to say everything that was on his mind. Not in the hospital, not in the office, not with his white coat on. It seemed to him that here they were just two people and the best their could do was to react with a gesture to a gesture and with a word to a word. Sitting down in silence and obstinate ignoring not only would be low, but wouldn't provide with any solution, either.
In fact, Clione's confession didn't flatter him at all, even if it should. "I don't deserve it," he said, shaking his head. "And I feel bad about it. Clione, you should... You really could find yourself someone else. It's hard to believe you could seriously-"
Clione put his hands on the table, and that move - quick and decisive - made Law look up again. His friend was piercing him with the gaze of his slate blue eyes. There was no trace of the embarrassment from just a moment ago on his face. "Law, could you please not depreciate my feelings," he said in a cold, flat tone that demanded to be listened to, despite it being almost a whisper. "I've been loving you for over half of my life already. As far as you are concerned, I am always serious. One hundred percent serious. And you can't change it. Besides..." his voice turned softer. "Do you really need to deserve a feeling?"
Law thought it would be logical... but feelings hardly ever had anything to do with logic. Yet, Clione's words made him recall another conversation, and he pressed his lips in a thin line. "Then, why did you... the last time we spoke of it, why did you give me understand it wouldn't work?" he asked after a moment, and his voice, despite his agitation, was as silent as that of the psychiatrist.
Something akin to abashment flashed in Clione's eyes, and this time it was his turn to look away. "You know why... I explained it," he muttered.
"And I feel bad about it," Law repeated and paused. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth, clenched his fists under the table and spent a longer while thinking of what he should say next. "I respect you, and I wish that you were satisfied with your life."
"It's my life, Law," Clione replied calmly. "You can't decide about it for me. I make my own choices. I understand you may feel uncomfortable... even guilty, but there's no need for that."
Law knew he should stop at that. Clione sounded like someone who'd long since thought it over... who'd long since come to terms with his feelings. The only reasonable solution was to respect it and back out... Only, Trafalgar Law never backed out when he felt he was right. "And for me, it sounds like you're running away..." he said. Some inner objection made him continue, even though he had no idea where it came from, "Like you preferred your safe... unrequited love instead of taking a chance... instead of trying..."
Clione straightened up in his chair and glared at him. "I don't want to hear that from you," he said in a voice that made it clear that any discussion was impossible. "Not when I know that this meeting doesn't mean a thing for you. Not when I know that this... date is just a fun. It's my life," he repeated. "And as long as there's nothing more between us, you have no right, Law... You have no right to tell me how to live. How to feel. Even if you don't like it. Why, you don't mean to ask me to become your boyfriend?" he asked, and, if Law hadn't known him like he had, he would think there was a mockery to those words. "Then, what kind of trying are you talking about? Law, I respect you too much to... impose myself on you. To say nothing of my instinct of self-preservation. You must understand at least that I don't want to risk... that you freeze me out for good...? Every normal person would fear that."
Law averted his eyes; his friend's every word made him shrink inside more and more. Now he had no idea what had made him say all those things... However, before he managed to reply... or apologise, Sanji returned with the first course.
They occupied themselves with eating, although Law didn't had appetite. He was painfully aware of the look Clione was giving him across the table... and he knew he deserved it. Yet, as they couldn't spend the rest of the evening in silence, he forced himself to glance at the psychiatrist between one spoon and another, and say, "Actually, I wanted to thank you."
Clione's thin eyebrows raised a bit. There was no trace of his earlier agitation. He asked in a composed voice, "What for?"
"For Rosapelo."
Clione chocked on his soup and coughed for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he wiped his mouth. "Sorry. It sounded so strange that I thought of something stupid..." he muttered, and Law thought he could hear laughter in his words... and he felt relieved. "What do you mean?"
"This. Everything," Law replied, realising he wasn't explaining anything.
Clione, however, as befitted a psychiatrist, seemed to understand anyway. "But I didn't do anything," he replied and resumed eating.
Law looked at him in disbelief and put his hand on the table, still holding the spoon. "Come one, do you really want me to enumerate it? First, you realised I should tend to him... when he was in your ward. You realised I could help him."
"It was just a theory, a conjecture," Clione objected. "I clutched at any little thing that could-"
"If not for that, things would have been different," Law interrupted him. "Probably worse. But thanks to you, I started to visit him... I wanted that he recovered, and decided to do everything to make it happen... while, at first, I didn't even want to see him."
Clione nodded and remained silent.
"And later," Law went on, "if not for you... I would've let him go. I wouldn't have realised I needed him. I wouldn't have taken him in. I wouldn't have made home with him. If you hadn't talked sense into me..." It still filled him with terror because now he couldn't imagine living without Rosapelo. It was just so close... "You see, all credit goes to you."
Clione gave him a slightly annoyed look. "You're exaggerating. You just reached the right conclusions yourself. Of course, if I were of any use, then I'm happy, but-"
"Clione, we both know well that I couldn't have reached such conclusions by myself even if I'd thought for a century," Law replied honestly and then frowned. "Why do you insist on belittling your merits?"
"It got to me, I guess," the psychiatrists sneered. "I spent too long with you."
Law shook his head and refrained from rolling his eyes. "And later... every time I needed your logical opinion, I could always count on you." He lowered his voice, "I'm a terrible father... and I keep doing stupid things... but you could always correct me and show me the way, in every single situation. Like when he ran away and I imagined the worst thing at once... Or when we got into an argument and it felt like the world collapsed... Clione, if not for you, I'd probably have gone insane long ago."
"Well, in that case, I feel I did a good job, as a psychiatrist," Clione commented with an irony. "Now that you present it that way, I start to suspect you want to ask me to be his godfather," he added and then opened his eyes wide in a faked abashment. "His godmother...?"
Law snorted. "Clione, don't clown around when I try to be serious... when I try to tell you that I'm really, really grateful for what you did. I feel I would never be able to thank you enough."
Clione gave him a thoughtful look and then just shrugged. "Your words of thanks have been accepted, okay?" he said and poured himself some water, and Law couldn't resist the impression his friend was upset.
He didn't know how to react, so he said nothing and continued his meal in silence. Clione had never been mad at him - despite Law having given him all too much reason for that - quite the contrary: he'd always treated him with kind leniency... Now, however, it seemed to him that Clione who was sitting across the table was someone else from who he knew, and it distressed him more he wished to admit it. What he could admit, though, was his own annoyance due to the scorn his friend had addressed his attempt to thank him with. No, he shouldn't think this way, he shouldn't focus only on himself... But something was clearly off, and he couldn't grasp what.
"Why are you like that?" he asked in the end, putting the spoon down in the empty bowl, and there was more helplessness to his words he'd intended.
The psychiatrist looked at him askance. "Because you're not like yourself today," he replied after a moment.
"Funny thing, that's what I just thought about yourself," Law replied without thinking. "Like you weren't happy that we came here..."
Clione frowned and looked at him, clearly offended, but the day was once more saved by Sanji. The greatest chef in the world appeared to take the bowls and offer the main course, then wished them bon appetit and left. Clione kept staring at Law with his intense gaze for a longer while, but he must have given up on saying what was on his mind as he occupied himself with the meal, in the end.
The atmosphere turned colder, and Law unconsciously felt it was his fault, although he couldn't find any cause, and the thought that his friend was really sulking for no reason wouldn't leave him. He tried to confront Clione sitting before him with Clione who just half an hour ago had entered the restaurant, clinging to his sleeve and with radiant smile, and he found it difficult to believe it was the same person in question. Now, the psychiatrist was sitting with his head down, his eyes fixed on his plate as if its content had been the most important thing in the world, and there wasn't a single trace of smile on his face. There was no emotion on it, either, since he could perfectly control them, so it was hard to tell if he was offended, angry or sad. In any case, he didn't look happy, and it was what Law had expected of him.
Never before had Clione behaved that way towards Law. It was beyond doubt that he'd often been annoyed or even disappointed because of him, but he could understand the two of them were different people and had different opinions on some matters or events. He acknowledged both his own and Law's limitations. Even if he sometimes reproached him - giving him a proverbial kick - he would to do it with smile and without malice, would say things directly and without mincing his words, and wouldn't make an emotional attack. Law never felt criticised or belittled by him, because everyone could bear with the taunts without any problem if they were convinced about the sympathy of the other person. Until now, Law could unconditionally believe Clione's honesty, and could be convinced of his good will. He could trust him.
That was why now, when Clione was sulking with him for some reason, Law felt thrown off balance, felt... rejected, and that impression was getting stronger with every minute. It was stupid, and he had to control it, and there was only one thing he could do in order to not sink in this anxiety: to ask. "Why-"
"It's a private meeting, right?" Clione interrupted him, as if he'd been only waiting for an occasion to speak. "Then let me tell you, Trafalgar Law, that you're a real bastard."
Law was struck dumb, and he leaned back, pretty sure he must have heard wrong. Before he managed to say anything, though, Clione went on, piercing him with the gaze of his slate blue eyes. "It's not a date, is it?" His voice was quiet, cold, almost emotionless, but a slight, sharp note of bitterness rang in it. "You just took pity on me. Or, which is more likely, you felt guilty about being the only one who's happy here, so you decided to share that happiness. And, while you're at it, to persuade me into giving up on you... so that you're no longer bothered by the fact that poor Clione is suffering because of you...?"
Law was staring at him completely shocked and crushed by that accusation, unable to say a word in his defence. Never before had he heard anything like that from Clione... and had never expected to hear one day. For a moment, he thought it was some sick joke, but his friend didn't look like he were joking; it was the opposite, he seemed dead serious. Feeling of being rejected attacked Law again, and stronger... and he forced himself to ignore it and, instead, focus on the words he'd been told... on the accusations that were... unfair...?
Clione had got it all wrong...! "I just wanted to be nice," he uttered with much less confidence he'd planned. "I wanted to do something for you, for once... to thank you..."
Clione shook his head. "Law, I'm sorry to say it but being nice isn't your strongest point," he said dryly. "It's much better if you're just yourself... and don't have fun at my expense," he added in a lower voice.
"I'm not having fun..." Law started to object. Really, how could Clione have understand it so wrong...?!
"Oh, shut up," his friend retorted in a resigned tone, putting the half-emptied plate aside. He poured himself some water and drank it up, then look at Law and shook his head again. "And I can't even be really mad at you..." he muttered, resting one elbow on the table.
"You're mad at me?" Law asked, and it was probably the most stupid thing he'd ever said.
"I am. And it's completely pointless, as you don't even get it," Clione replied and sighed, then put his forehead on his hand. When he continued, his voice was softer. "Though I should be mad at myself, in the first place, because it's only my fault. I decided to have some big ideas... even though I'm well aware all this is fake. I thought I could just have good fun. That, just this once, I could think... imagine that my dream came true after all those years." He glanced at him between his fingers. "Do you know what it means to me to meet with you like this? To walk arm in arm with you, get the flowers in public... and, above all, talk about different things than work..." He shook his head and hid his face inside his palm again, and his next words came as a whisper. "No, to talk even about those stupid feelings of mine... despite me being a guy... I thought, I decided it would be okay to do it just once... and in the end, I'm venting my frustration on you, because, after all, I can't pretend it's something real... So, in fact, I should be mad at myself... for such inconsistence... I'm pathetic."
Law was sitting dumbstruck. The first emotion that surged in him was objection. He didn't like it that Clione blamed himself in this situation, it was... it was fundamentally wrong...! What came next was understanding and shame. Finally Law could see his actions from Clione's point of view... and felt disgusted. He'd thought he'd done a noble thing, he'd wanted to make Clione happy... to give him what he'd thought Clione wished... but, in fact, he'd hurt his friend, had patronised him... or even humiliated. He'd wanted to show his respect, and yet he'd done the opposite...! How could he have behaved that way towards one of the kindest people he'd ever met? How could he have undervalued him and trampled on his dignity?
He was a real bastard. Not that it was anything new.
Yes, he'd acted like a total, insensitive prick... once again. He had to apologise... but he was so sick with apologising everyone around him and repeating the same mistakes all over again. He suddenly got scared that it was already close: the time when 'I'm sorry' will no longer be enough... Maybe soon no-one will believe in his apparent remorse...! But he had to apologise. He had to convince his friend it wasn't like that... that even if his behaviour could be interpreted that way, he hadn't meant wrong at any point...! He had to answer the arguments and accusations... Clione's words were still ringing in his eyes, each weighing in his chest and...
"I don't mind you being a guy. I never did," he said... and blinked. He hadn't planned to say it and had no idea where it had come from, especially that there were more important issues to address. But once his words were spoken, he had a closer look at the thought they implied, 'I don't mind you loving me like a guy.' He blinked again.
Clione looked up and focus his gaze on him before nodding. "I know," he replied somewhat hesitant, and Law felt relieved he'd finally said something right... and something that was true, on top of it.
And he felt the tiniest hope that they would be able to finish this conversation in a constructive way and somehow go back to what they'd had until now... although it was probably cowardice on his part. "I'm sorry," he said because, even if he was sick of saying 'I'm sorry', leaving it unsaid was much worse of an option. "I didn't want to hurt you, Clione, I really didn't. I'm a bastard, just like you said. It was wrong of me... now I get it..."
"Okay, let's forget about it," Clione replied quickly, waving his hand, and his voice was ringing with fatigue and resignation now. "Let everything be like it was until now, okay?"
Law said nothing. Even though it was what he'd hoped for... now that Clione agreed to it, he felt uneasy. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?" he asked helplessly. "What should I do to make you believe I'm sorry?"
Clione gave him a clear-headed look. He kept silent for a moment, apparently thinking, but then he only shook his head. "We just... It's the best if we forget about it. Let's pretend that this evening never happened. Because, the longer we talk, the more pathetic I feel. So... Can we go back to how we were before?" he asked.
Law said nothing. He was under the impression that Clione was evading the problem... although just a few minutes ago it was him who'd been doing everything to avoid it, hoping for the easiest solution... which his friend was now offering him on a silver plate.
"Because, Law... You haven't brought me here to tell me that you're through with me... and don't want to gave anything to do with me again...?" Clione asked in a soft voice, and his words were so unexpected that Law could think thousand years and still wouldn't imagine the psychiatrist to say them one day.
He frowned. Through? Through with Clione? He felt like laughing at the very thought, so absurd it was. Clione had been with him almost as long as Ikkaku, having joined the Heart Pirates as the fifth. They'd experienced so much together that Law could say with full confidence that without Clione he wouldn't be here now. He belonged to Law's reality and couldn't be removed or replaced... And once he thought that, his mind was flooded by memories, so many memories with Clione either playing the main part or staying in the background and still being important.
Clione taking on the role of mediator during every conflict on the Polar Tang, or answering with keen and accurate psychological analysis to those sad fellows who dared to mess with him... Clione sneaking books aboard in every port and addressing the accusations of overloading the ship with his standard answer he was filling Shachi and Penguin's quota, as he suspected they were illiterate... Clione slipping once into Law's cabin and sleeping bag when they were, like, sixteen (nothing had happened as Law had shamblesed him to the far end of the submarine without giving him any chance to explain himself) and then not showing his face around him for the next month... Clione starting with Bepo a campaign called 'We love our Captain' to show the crew's affection on a regular basis... Clione repeatedly organising the psychological relief for locals when the rest of the crew fought with the hurricane or another disaster... Clione collapsing in the middle of operation when Law needed every pair of hands after they'd had a nasty clash with a bigger and stronger pirate crew... Clione getting seriously injured and being saved by Law at the last moment... Clione driving Ikkaku into mental breakdown with his kind advices on appearance and not stopping even after she'd beaten him to a pulp... Clione on Raftel, throwing the boiler suit off, putting on the dress and announcing he was going to finally live true to his nature... And the next fifteen years with Clione proving more than enough he deserved to be called one of the supporting pillars of the Corazon Memorial Hospital, even if he rarely appeared in the foreground... Clione never asking anything in return, just wanting to stay here, with Law.
From those memories emerged a man extremely intelligent, reliable and, above all, good. Clione was probably the most gentle person on the Polar Tang and the only one of the Heart Pirates devoid of killer instinct. Law blinked in surprise, as that assessment, unequivocally flattering, was at odds with the image he'd had in his mind for years: that Clione was the most annoying of his companions. Well, it wasn't like he meant to claim now he had never thought so... but maybe his evaluation had evolved with the elapse of time...? It wouldn't be that strange, right...?
He focused his gaze on his friend sitting across the table and still waiting for an answer, his face being a mask - now Law could see it - of seriousness, uncertainty, and even fear. Was it the reason of Clione's abrasive attitude tonight: fear that Law wanted to end everything? Law analysed his own behaviour, the words he'd spoken... and realised it had really differed quite much from what Clione was accustomed to. He swallowed a prick in his throat - the impression it was unfair towards him, for even he had a right... and a chance to change - and decided that his friend's concern wasn't groundless. Well, it sure was, as Law had never, not for a moment, thought to change anything between them. It was the opposite: now that Clione had hinted that they might part, he came to the conclusion he would fight for him with fangs and claws.
"Law...?" Clione spoke, and the tension in his voice could make hair stand on end in someone more sensitive.
Law thought he was cruel, having left him uncertain instead of quelling his fear at once. "I have no idea how you could have thought of it," he announced, shaking his head in displeasure. "I told you, I value you very much. Why should I suddenly want to end it? You got it completely wrong... and here I thought I was the master of reaching the completely missed conclusions. Well, maybe I really am unlike my previous self, but... Don't you think I may have changed... evolved, as a human being?" he suggested in a quiet voice. "I think I really did."
Clione was looking at him in suspicion, and nothing in his gaze indicated he'd felt relieved. No, that he'd believed Law in the first place. Not yet. "You've changed..." he repeated nonetheless, slowly, as if considering those words, without breaking the intent, focused eye-contact. "Okay, let's assume it's really the case. That not only your situation changed, but through the situation you started to change yourself." He nodded. "Fine, I admit I can see it. Living with Rosapelo has a beneficial effect on your psyche, I can't deny it. And that new you decided to treat other people in a different way now?"
"Something like that," Law replied, trying not to wince. "Even if I didn't start it properly, which you pointed out... I really didn't want to offend you."
Clione nodded again, and this time with more confidence. Law felt a weight lifted from his heart... and he added on the spur of the moment, "I would never want that you disappear from my life."
Clione opened his eyes wide but didn't say anything, while Law wondered if he wished he could take back these words... or not. But as he considered them, staring at his friend's face - as he considered the future - a sudden emotion welled up in him... and his mind lightened up with a surety that became stronger and clearer with every moment and every heartbeat.
He frowned, and his fingers clutched at the tablecloth, so he clasped his hands together. His reason was sounding the alarm... begging him to not say things before he properly thought them over - but had ever any good come from analysing? No, all good things had resulted from those spontaneous moves that had had nothing to do with reason.
He pressed his lips in a thin line and then, fighting the urge to run away from here, said in a quiet voice. "Once I asked you that you didn't count me out... remember?" Himself, he hadn't managed to push that conversation out of his memory, and now he felt that, for the first time, it didn't fill him with embarrassment. "Remember, Clione? I asked you that... It's still on, especially now that that I think that maybe in ten years... maybe even in five years-"
"You'll reach that stage that I will suffice?" Clione interrupted him, and his voice rang with earlier hostility, making it all sounding like an accusation. "When Rosapelo becomes an adult and moves out, starts his own life... and you could no longer bear with the solitude, for you've learned to need another person again? Then you'll reach for me who'll always be close... who promised to wait?"
Law felt like banging his fists on the table in response to such an obstinate and one-track thinking... but then he realised it was how Clione must have felt all the time, observing Law's ridiculous thought processes and denial even with the most stupid conclusions. That helped him retain his composure. He shook his head.
"No," he said calmly, although he was still fighting the impulse to flee and his heart was racing. "I think there's a chance that something will right itself in my twisted psyche by then..." He lowered his voice to a whisper. He licked his lips and then swallowed. He was clasping his hands so tight that his knuckles went white. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth. "Something will get straightened out to make it possible for me to... return another person's feelings." He took a deep breath and glanced at Clione, who was sitting across the table and seemed to be not breathing. "You just... have to work on me. Don't give up on me. Don't stop being who you are for me... and even more... okay?"
Clione said nothing; he didn't react at all. His face was still a mask, but now completely devoid of emotion. His slate blue eyes were wide open, but their look couldn't be read. Although he was so close, he seemed to be more distant than ever. Time was passing, second by second, measured with heartbeats, and Clione was just sitting there and staring at him. Had he believed Law? Did he plan to answer? Was there any sense to Law's words?
Law's heart was pounding in his chest like it was going to wrench out. He swallowed down, but his mouth was dry. He relaxed his hands as he felt pain in his fingers, but they started to tremble the moment he loosened the grip. The words he'd just spoken were ringing in his ears; they were the only ones to be heard over the rush of blood, and all other sounds seemed to have vanished.
Law knew he'd said what he thought... what he felt... but suddenly he lost all confidence he'd had any right to say it. Loose fragments were banging around inside his skull. 'Ten years...' 'There's a chance...' 'Maybe...' He knitted his brows and curved his lips, realising one couldn't built their future based on something like that.
He concentrated his sight on Clione again. The warmth spread in his chest, and he classified it as fondness... but then he was filled with cold of hopelessness fuelled by reason. Reason had been right; spontaneity couldn't do a thing. "No, it was selfish on my part," he muttered, looking down. "Asking for ten years... Rely on chances... Forge-"
"I won't forget," Clione's bright voice interrupted him the same moment his friend's arm shot over the table to grab his own.
Uncertain, Law raised his gaze... and saw that the mask had fallen. Now Clione's expression was that of thousand emotions, and never before had he appeared so alive. Law saw hesitation and fear being replaced by joy and determination, and the look in the eyes become strong... with that strength that, Law knew, could result only from love. He felt relieved, as if he'd gained a victory without even realising he'd taken up the fight... so maybe he was simply given it. Maybe he shouldn't protest, only be happy with it, just this once. He wanted to be happy. Clione's happy face was good reason enough.
"I won't forget and won't give up," Clione said and shook his head, and Law thought even that gesture was something wonderful. "I've been by your side for a quarter of century. And I really don't intend to go anywhere. And now... that you said that..." His voice quivered, and his eyes glistened. "It wasn't a joke, right? No, Trafalgar Law never makes such jokes," he answered himself, and his tone was fully confident. Then, however, he sniffed... and the next moment he covered his face with one hand, the other still lying on Law's hand. "Sorry... I just..."
Suddenly he seemed - for all his tremendous strength - very fragile. Law had never felt comfortable when facing the turbulent emotions, but now he realised they made him happy now. After all, they were natural here... and were much better than Clione's closed stare from just a moment ago. They were right, and it filled Law with relief. Somehow, he'd managed to not ruin everything... And after all those times when it'd been him to yield to emotions and turn into a bundle of nerved and Clione would support him and let him collect himself, such role reversal was in place... Not that Law considered himself to be a composure incarnated now; he was shaken probably as much as the other part... but he guessed there was nothing wrong with it... no, he knew that from experience. Such a shock meant that something was happening, something worth getting involved in.
He turned his wrist to take Clione's hand. His fingers were still trembling, but he didn't care much about it. He needed contact, and his instincts told him that Clione needed it as well. His friend was still covering his face - and Law had no courage to ask him to look at him - but he squeezed his fingers with all his strength. Law didn't know if he wanted to say, 'I'm here', or maybe rather convey the desire and necessity to anchor in the safe haven, maybe both... But analysing every gesture was pointless; it was those gestures that mattered, and what they meant to the two of them.
They sat like that for a longer while until Clione finally regained his balance. He breathed deeply several times, wiped his face and looked at Law. And then he smiled, with a trembling yet radiant smile that gave confidence that everything was all right.
"Thank you," he said, relaxing the convulsive grip on Law's fingers. "I think I'll take a chance. You said I should be... like I've always been... and even more? And work on you?" he recalled Law's words and knitted his brows lightly. "Then, what exactly? Should I give you more psychoanalysis... or, rather, start to seriously hit on you?"
Law pressed his lips and fixed his eyes on the table. "Please, no more psychoanalysis," he muttered, feeling his cheeks burn. But he knew he was honest... and he still didn't let Clione's hand from his own.
Clione suppressed a snort. "In that field, I've very little experience... but I'll take up the challenge regardless," he declared. Then, however, his voice became hesitant. "But will you risk it...? I know I could never replace Corazon. He was someone special to you..."
Law's head snapped up as he looked at him, frowning. What? How had Corazon got into this conversation?
"Are you stupid? Who says you should replace him? Cora-san was like a father to me," he replied with an offence. "But don't worry, I'm sure he would accept you anyway," he announced with faked haughtiness... and then the corners of his lips twitched when he remembered something else. "But if you insist on drawing my whole family into this talk, then let me inform you that Rosapelo already gave us his blessing," he muttered. "I think the kid is of the opinion we're made for each other," he added, rolling his eyes. "Or he just knows that I've no chances with anyone else..."
Clione slowly nodded and then tilted his head slightly. His smile turned somewhat mischievous. He stared at Law in silence for a longer while. Law waited patiently. His heart was still beating fast, but the beats were regular and gave him strength, and his breathing was even and smooth. His gaze kept returning to those slate blue eyes under the fair fringe, and with every glance he became more positive he didn't regret anything he'd said in the last fifteen minutes. Even if his life were to change, it couldn't possibly be a change for the worse.
'I changed,' he thought as if realising it... and maybe he really had; this whole conversation was the best proof for that. He didn't want to muse over it now; he only let himself an optimistic reflection, 'And if I changed, then there's a chance I could change some more.'
Finally, Clione withdrew his arm, rested his both elbows on the table and let his hands cup his face. He wasn't averting his eyes. "I'll do my best that it won't be ten years," he declared in a low voice.
And Law thought he didn't really object to that. He nodded firmly and smiled. "I'll do my best, too," he muttered quietly and kept the rest to himself, 'So that I could tell you then, Thank you... and sorry for having you wait so long... "
He couldn't imagine better ending.
THE END
A/N. The bonus chapter is just an extra and, if you didn't like it, you may as well forget it. As for the rest, I hope you liked the story and enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sticking with it until the end. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and then I even translated it into English, on top of it. I'm dying for your comments, so please take a moment to write a line or two, thanks!