All that led to a nasty fever.
It was probably caused both by Law getting drenched in water and Amber Lead-related immunodeficiency, to say nothing of psychological factors affecting his condition. Suffice to say, the very same evening Law nearly collapsed due to high fever. Corazon got hysterics… or so it might appear to a bystander. Law definitely refused to go to that, or any other, hospital, and he only instructed his carer what to do and what to ignore.
He was feverish for over one week. He spent most of that period in deeper or more shallow sleep, and he found it very convenient, for he didn't need to deal with those more distressing matters that had fallen upon him. A sudden sickness made him detached from the reality, which resulted in passivity and apathy at every level of functioning. He spiritlessly accepted Corazon's treatment - at last half of it wouldn't improve his condition, quite the contrary - and spoke only as much as to make it understand that he was alive and wasn't get worse. Corazon was someone who made a mountain out of a molehill, and expressed a completely absurd concern and care towards Law. Had Law fallen silent for a whole week, his companion undoubtedly would have panicked, causing to a total catastrophe, and thus he forced himself to reluctantly say something from time to time. It was that reluctance that could more than anything convince that giant loony that Law was doing quite fine.
However, the more Law improved, the more he became aware of the problem he had to deal with. Whenever he emerged from a fever dream, his mind began to revolve around that one issue. The events on the beach would haunt him with manic tenacity and make him unable to think of anything else... or perhaps he deliberately kept playing them over and over again inside his head in order to harass himself even more... and find solution, too. Law was that kind of a person who always searched for a solution and refused to let the bad situation to continue. So, even now as he lay on the bed wrapped in the feather cloak, staring indifferently at the wall or Corazon, moving around their place, his ever-working mind would invent and discard new scenarios to put into effect once he recovered completely.
Actually, he tried not to observe Corazon much, for he felt tired just looking. By nature, Law didn't waste movements and gestures, while Donquixote Rosinante seemed to be a walking hurricane, and that impression was doubled by the fact he was several times bigger. When he moved, his long arms and legs filled the whole view. When he was sitting quietly - eating, reading a paper or a map - it seemed just the calm before the storm, for he might get to his feet out of the blue and busy himself with something else, which was usually accompanied by tripping over or another accident. Still, having observing him for a whole week - and the three previous, although that time he'd had different motives - Law couldn't say that Corazon's behaviour was devoid of any sense. Even though the giant man had two left hands and two left feet, which turned his every action into an improbable acrobatic show, he still was able to do everything he planned, regardless of the side effects. It was due to that absurd clumsiness that he seemed an idiot, but in truth that defect merely obscured his intelligence and strong will.
The same thing could be told about his personality. Thanks to that constant smiling and gusts of laugher, that incessant talking and paying little attention to his surroundings, those shameless things he spat without restrain and plans devoid of logical basis, Corazon appeared someone silly at best or completely demented at worst. Yet, as far as Law could tell, all Rosinante's emotional states were perfectly genuine and had nothing false about them. It was totally different Corazon that Law had got to known when in the Donquixote Family… had thought he'd known after two years of living together. It'd been already one month since Rosinante had broken the silence and told Law the truth about himself, but it was only now that Law could really believe it... could accept that it was that Corazon who was fake. It brought new questions: 'How could someone like that be Doflamingo's brother?' and, 'Who he really was?'
He would wear that absurd heart-patterned shirt and heart-tasselled hood, to say nothing of black feather cloak. He had an eerie grin painted on his face - and that real one in his eyes, that he wouldn't spare Law during the last month. He would go out of his way to take care of him, and Law, at some point, had stopped watching out for not getting hurt...
Corazon looked up from the newspaper and, having caught his eyes, put his read aside, knocking off the cup of tea he'd already forgot about. "Hey, Law!" he called happily. "I bet you're hungry?"
Angry, Law rolled over and pulled the cloak over his head. He realised he'd spent one more hour thinking of Donquixote Rosinante, and only him. It didn't improve his mood; worse, it made his chest clench in an unpleasant way. After one week, he was perfectly sure of what he'd merely suspected unconsciously on the beach and what had filled him with awful dread regardless.
He became attached.
It didn't matter it was Corazon in question; it could've been anybody (he ignored an inner voice laughing at him for such belief). The problem was that Trafalgar D. Water Law had once again become attached to another person. That realisation was so horrible he felt like screaming.
Over those few years since Flevance - years that had killed his faith, trust and need for presence - he'd deliberately avoided any bonds. It hadn't been difficult; his experience had made him start to regard human beings with contempt or even disgust. Actually, he'd stopped consider humans as such; they'd seemed to be merely mindless creatures, existing pointlessly and aimlessly. People had failed him too many times to stay on their side. People had tried to destroy him too many times to deserve any mercy. They'd turned away from him when he'd needed help, they'd sentenced him to death when he'd needed care, they'd called him evil when he'd fought for life. When he'd become as indifferent and cruel as they, he'd understood such was human nature. Man wasn't created to be good or helpful, but to destroy and hurt others. Goodness and helping were a delusion, a naive daydream that would always turn into a nightmare.
He'd met with rejection and aggression for years. It was in the Donquixote Family that he'd been treated better, but not for any sympathy. Doflamingo's group was that of the pirates, criminals who laughed at death and used others for their own benefit. Law might be of use to them, so they'd accepted him with his three years of life, had given him a roof over head, a weapon in hand, and even a slight hope for survival. They would play a family, but what actually bound them was merely lust for power, money and profit. There was no warmth in their laughter, there was no tenderness in their gestures, and there was no devotion in their actions. Law had no delusions that they had nothing to do with a real family - and had found it very, very convenient.
And then Rosinante - his brother Donquixote Doflamingo's right hand - had kidnapped him for a journey. He would smile to him happily, wrap him fondly in the cloak and do anything to help him. He would speak to him in a supportive manner, try to inject hope into him, and protect him from harm over and over again, even though he couldn't benefit from doing it at all. One month - and it was enough for Law to become attached. One month filled with more good things than the previous years, for Corazon was different than the Donquixote Family, different than anybody Law had met. There was no deceit in his actions; quite the contrary, one could have the absurd impression that staying with Law made Corazon really... happy.
Something like that wouldn't last. Law knew that, if he trusted, it wouldn't do him any good. If he believed, he would be disappointed. If he became involved, he would suffer. Attachment led to harm, made a man weak and vulnerable. If he didn't want to lose, he had to end it now. Now. Before he grew even more attached, before he lost his strength and resolve, before he became dependent on another person again. He silenced his inner voice telling him that he had only one year left and he could as well leave things as they were... and spend that remaining time in a more civilised way than so far. He discarded the thought that his existence would be a bit better by Rosinante's side, for his big carer could take care of him. Such visions were at odds with his nature that urged to run away until it was too late. If he stayed with Corazon, he would cease to be what he was now and would become someone else. He ignored the voice asking, 'Would it be something bad?'
Now he knew he couldn't kill him. He could kill anyone, everyone, but him. Also, he was certain that no physical attack aiming at weakening or immobilising Corazon would succeed. He had no idea about Rosinante's real strength, but he was sure it had to be at least several times his own, and in the most favourable calculations, too. Actually, the idea of hurting him - even if rather improbable - felt repulsive. He needed to find another way to free himself from his carer...
Finally, he was well enough to leave the bed. Fever had receded completely, and his condition was back to normal - moreover, he had his plan, which furthered his recovery, too - but he would still talk only when absolutely required. It was high time to leave the island. They went to the town, where Corazon planned to buy a new boat, since their old one had sailed off into the blue. Law assured him that he didn't plan to run away only visit a herbalist's shop in order to buy some ingredients for a medicine. His carer was nearly moved to tears - since his arm fracture he'd held Law and his (measly) medical skills in high esteem - and didn't object... but Law read his gaze as, 'Even if you run away, I'll find you.' Strangely enough, it didn't make him angry, only calmly resigned.
The shop had all herbs he needed. When back at home, he used them to form a few pills. He acted calmly and methodically, focused on his goal. The real challenge was to convince Corazon to take them. Maybe he should advertise them as a medicine for clumsiness...? No, even someone as naive as Rosinante wouldn't believe it... But, right, Corazon was naive. He would probably take at face value everything Law might say, and wouldn't suspect any betrayal. Law felt an unpleasant pang in his chest, but he quickly ordered himself to remain calm. He wasn't going to hurt him; it was only to ensure a level playing field...
Corazon returned after some time. He was clearly happy to saw him, which he expressed in an incredibly wide smile, although he also tripped over the threshold and smacked on the floor, spilling the shopping. He quickly got up, picked up the apples and sausages and sat down by the table next to Law.
"We have a boat," he said. "If you're all right, we may leave today. The next island isn't far away, we'll get there well before the sunset."
Law nodded. His heart was racing, but he knew that nothing in his behaviour gave away his nervousness.
Corazon's eyes caught the pills in a chipped bowl. "What drug had Dr Law prescribed himself today?" he asked merrily.
"It's for you," Law muttered, pushing the bowl in the man's direction.
"But I'm not sick, nor I was," Corazon replied cheerfully.
"It's going to heal your clumsiness," Law said with a deadpan face and then decided he couldn't fall even lower. The 'drug' might heal Corazon from credulousness, at the utmost.
In reaction to his words, however, Rosinante stared at him with such an utter disbelief, that Law felt like blushing. He lowered his eyes...
"I mean-..."
"Law, are you trying to poison me?" Corazon asked softly.
Before he managed to control that impulse, Law's head snapped up, and he glared at the man with an offence he really felt. He hadn't expected such words... Not because he hadn't suspected Rosinante to be so keen, only because of the accusation itself. It hurt him - another proof for that damn attachment.
Instinctively, he reached for the bowl to move it closer... but the same moment Corazon's hand dashed forward and seized the dish.
"No, Law! I didn't think that!" Rosinante exclaimed and then grabbed all pills to shove into his mouth. "I took them, so forget what I said, okay? Okay, Law?!"
His voice was insistent, and his expression begging. Law didn't answer... but something made him nod. Corazon breathed a sigh of relief - he really did! - and then, which was even more stupid, jumped to his feet and started some terrible dance of joy. He tripped no sooner than after the third turn.
"I think it's not working yet," he decided, sitting on the chair again. "But I'm happy. I really am! You made a drug for me...!"
Law remained silent. He'd managed to make Corazon take the pills... and felt no triumph. Of course, if you became attached to someone, you wouldn't be happy with doing something like that. Yet, he ignored another pang in his chest - actually, he'd felt something heavy weigh on his heart for the last one week - and told himself it was necessary. Corazon would fall asleep and suffer no harm, while Law would use that time to disappear. Only when Rosinante waked up, he would understand what Law had fed him with. Even if he hated him, it... it would be even better. For now, let him believe Law had prepared some healthful specific. Maybe it would give him some good dreams, ha ha...
"It was a sleeping pill," he said involuntarily, his eyes fixed on the table, and then pressed his lips in a thin line.
When he got no reply over the next few moments - no reaction at all - he looked up at Corazon, ready for the worst sight: gaze of disgust and contempt. Ah, but it would be so easy if Donquixote Rosinante came to hate him...! The man, however, was staring at him intently, and his expression was unable to read. He certainly didn't look like someone who had just taken a mega dose of hypnotics, but Law hadn't expected the effect to happen right away, either. Still, why had he confessed it? If Corazon was still conscious, he could grab him, tie him or immobilise him in any other way - and then sleep well as long as it took.
And why the hell had he taken those pills?!
Law clenched his fists and lowered his eyes again. No, he had done it, and nothing could change it now. He had done it to leave, to flee from that attachment and be free again. He'd had to do it to save himself.
He took a deep breath and then another one. "You see, I can't stay here..." he said. "I can't stay with you! It's our goodbye," he repeated his own words from one week ago. "I must leave." He glanced at Rosinante, who was still staring at him silently, without moving. "I don't... hate you anymore," he whispered and bit his lip. "So it's not why... but..."
He stopped. There was no sense in his words... but he just couldn't utter an apology. He took another deep breath, and once he convinced himself he was calm again, he got off the chair and turned to leave. He had no luggage, so he didn't take anything with him, except for money in his pocket and a knife under his shirt that he'd always had on.
Terribly aware of that silent presence behind his back, he made for the doorway. The medicine had undoubtedly started to work, otherwise Corazon would have long since caught him, yet... Suddenly, all that seemed so wrong. So many times he'd wanted to escape, so many times he'd imagined himself succeed - and now he felt his legs were as heavy as lead. His heart was pounding madly, but he kept telling himself that even such a high dose couldn't do Corazon any harm. Rosinante would only sleep for a while, and when he waked up, Law would have been out of his reach. That was for the best.
That he was so distressed now meant how much he'd changed over the last month - he, who could kill people without feeling a thing, was now all jittery after feeding another man with a sleeping pill. It was high time to leave, he could still turn back to what he had been... If he stayed here, he would keep changing until he would no longer be able to recognise himself. He didn't want it. He couldn't have it happen.
In the doorway, however, he turned back - he couldn't help it - and looked at the man by the table. Corazon followed him with his eyes and when he caught his gaze, unbelievable, he smiled warmly.
"I'll find you anyway," he said and then collapsed on the table that jerked under his weight.
Law bit his lips and clenched his fists again in order to stop them from trembling. He was under the impression his heart would jump out of his chest any moment. Suddenly, he felt like running away from what had happened here... from what he'd done himself... although just a moment ago he hadn't had any wish to leave. He forced himself to stay until he could hear the even breathing - breathing of someone who was deeply asleep. He swallowed the feeling of relief and dashed outside, and then ran to the harbour, never turning to look back.
He got on the first passenger ship and on the next island. He had no plan; for now, he just wanted to escape from Corazon. He was constantly on guard, looking out for the big figure in the feather cloak and unconsciously awaiting Rosinante to suddenly appear to catch him. He had no faintest idea how long the sleeping drug would affect someone with so unnatural physiology like the younger Donquixote; it wouldn't surprise him if Corazon waked after just one hour and set out to follow him.
It was no sooner than the third consecutive island he'd landed on that he felt slightly relaxed. This region had heavy traffic density, with every island having multiple sea connections with others, which meant the chances to be find decreased substantially every time he came ashore. The second evening he started to slowly calm down and believe his escape was a success this time. Tension that had accompanied him for two days, gradually diminished, replaced by satisfaction. There was no sense of victory, just relief to be free again. Just like he'd said: he no longer hated Corazon, then why should he be euphoric having got away from him? To tell the truth, he realised that... he wished he could stay. After what he'd done, though, there was no turning back.
He knew he couldn't return anyway. He'd decided to leave because he'd had a reason, because staying there would be dangerous. He was painfully aware of that - so why did he feel like leaving here all the time, retracing his own steps, going back and apologising... so that everything would be like it had been for the last month? He was mad at himself for such an inconsistency - it was so unlike him - but at the same time it was the best motivation to go on. Such feelings and thoughts, more than anything, proved that attachment he didn't need and had to discard... had discarded already. He would manage without it. No; only without it would he manage. Attachment made a man weak. It was solitude of the last few years that had given him strength - and only solitude could save him.
Yet his heart would occasionally speed up when he thought he saw the familiar figure... and it was just someone wearing a similar coat or a red hat. In one town, there was some commotion in the street - someone bumped in someone else, people gathered and so on - and in another town, there was a fire in a shop nearby. He had to run there and see it... and felt strange disappointment upon learning it wasn't Corazon, after all.
On the third day, he noticed all his thoughts still revolved around Corazon - and only seemed to intensify, the longer they were apart. The hours and days passed, and Corazon still wasn't coming. Law's apparent calm started to falter, then turned into anxiety, and finally he felt he would get hysterics any time soon. That drug... couldn't have hurt him, right? It'd been a big dose, but only such could work on that freak of nature that was nearly three metres tall, felt no pain and seemed immune to any injury. No, those pills couldn't make any damage. After all, upon Law's departure, Corazon's breathing had been even and deep... He reassured himself with this, clutching at that fact like a drowning man clutched at a straw - but soon enough his balance would be shaken by another thought, 'What if the effect intensified afterwards?' He knew the side effects and the risk of taking hypnotics, even those of natural origin; he was aware that too high dose could make a man fall asleep... for ever.
Corazon had said he would find him... but yet another day had passed, and he was still nowhere to seen - he, whom stubbornness Law had already known. Law was under the impression the uncertainty would kill him, but it was then, on the fourth day, that something changed in his emotional state, obviously due to all that stress. Fear turned into resentment, and uncertainty into disappointment. He felt as if he had been made a promise to, and that promise had then been broken. Corazon hadn't come. Law had been so terribly stupid, relying - for he really had! - on his word. Well, he could only resent himself; he'd known well he shouldn't trust, for trust always led to disillusion. He'd been naive to think that Donquixote Rosinante had been different; in the end, he was just like the others. Once again, Law was proven right. He wasn't allowed to believe or trust. He could count only on himself, just like he had for those last years. It was a good thing he'd left Corazon now - the sooner, the better. If this disappointment should occur one month or half a year from now, it would be really bad, right? And now he felt only anger and resentment, fury and hatred.
It was good to hate again. It was good to hate Corazon again. If he met him one day... he would pay him for everything.
On the fifth day, he stopped running away. He had no idea what to do. Return to Doflamingo...? No, he hadn't thought of it even once. Yet, having no alternative, either, he just dwelt in this city, sleeping the nights in the abandoned houses and spending the days in the alleys with the stray cats. The climate was cold here; after the sunset, the temperature fell below zero. He bought himself a blanket, but he would still shake from cold. When he managed to get some restless sleep, he saw dreams that made him feel even worse once he waked up, and he had to persuade himself again that going back was not an option. He would eat from time to time, but he didn't feel hungry. It was his anger that sustained him, but he no longer knew who he was angry with. In any case, he was close to feeling sorry for himself, which meant the situation was really bad. He hadn't felt sorry for himself since Flevance... and now he was under the impression he was the most lonely being in the world again. It also was Corazon's fault...
Sometimes it seemed to him he couldn't remember who Corazon was.
One day - he'd lost count already - a man appeared before him, someone clearly at odds with the law. A homeless kid living in an abandoned basement and regularly buying some food on the market must have seemed an easy target. The man was quite tall, brawny and appeared to be someone who trusted the strength of his hands. Driving away the cats, he came into the alley and started a casual talk with Law, but his eyes were filled with obvious greed. Law wasn't in a mood nor did he felt like wondering whether the thug wanted to robe him, rape him or sell him to slave dealer; at the very most, he didn't seem to be a serial killer. Law told him to get lost, certainly surprising him.
Soon enough, however, the man's eyes flared with anger, and without wasting more time the thug darted forward. Law was prepared for it - two years of training with the Donquixote Family weren't in vain, and his instincts had been sharpened even before that, back in Flevance - so he dodged swiftly, and the man's hands didn't even brush him. Using all his strength, he rammed his elbow in the assailant's side - he was rewarded by a groan of pain and astonishment - and then kicked him under the knees, bringing him down. When the man turned to face him and tried to deal a blow, Law pushed him onto his back, then sat down on his chest and started to punch his face until the blood gushed. The man kept making stifled cries, but Law didn't stop. The whole fury - all that aggression that had been accumulating inside him during those last few days - was now given vent to, when he kept punching someone whom he didn't know and didn't give a damn about. His teeth clenched, he dealt the blows one after another, ignoring the pain in his knuckles, while the body below him kept jerking convulsively as his victim unsuccessfully tried to break free. He still didn't have enough, wanted to hit and inflict pain, wanted to lost himself in this cruelty - pay back for everything that had happened to him and was to happen yet...
Finally, he took the knife and put it against the thug's neck. Feeling the cold steel on his throat, the man froze and stared from under swollen eyelids with a sheer terror. Law smiled. Fury that was filling him made him feel good - for the first time in a longer while... Slowly, he lifted the knife, taking delight in the man's fear... and feeling only contempt. The thug moaned through his mutilated lips, begging for mercy, and Law felt like laughing in his face. It'd been many years since he'd pitied another person, and beyond doubt it wasn't going to happen today.
"Enough, Law," he heard the low, firm voice, and the strong hand seized his own one.
His head snapped around to see Corazon - someone from his previous life, or so it seemed. The man below him didn't lose his opportunity; he dragged himself out and ran away like hell, but Law forgot him altogether anyway. He was staring at Donquixote Rosinante, who let go of his hand and said nothing only kept looking at him with that calm, dispassionate gaze. Law jumped two metres back... and barely remained on his feet when a surge of emotions flooded him, nearly sweeping him along. Hate, that hate was so strong... and it drowned completely in the ocean of other feelings. He bit his lips... and the next moment he darted blindly forward, aiming at Corazon's tight. The man didn't move, didn't make any sound...
He stopped in the last moment. He opened his eyes wide and let the knife drop; his hands no longer listened to him. He took a step back and clenched his jaws, suddenly perfectly certain he was going to lose consciousness or control over himself. He made the last effort to raise his head. He thought that hatred in Corazon's eyes would give him strength and sober him. He was only terribly disgusted with himself. He was prepared for anger, like a child that knew he had done bad - that was how he felt now. This time Corazon would certainly be mad with him... He held his breath and looked him in the face.
Rosinante was smiling at him - not with the eerie smile but with the warmth in his eyes.
Law felt his chin tremble, and he covered his face with both hands. Yet, he wasn't able to contain a sob that shook all his body. He was weeping silently and didn't even know why he was crying - of relief, of shock, of joy or defeat. Of despair and happiness, for he didn't deserve it and yet was given it without hesitation. Of realisation that after and despite that all he was still a human - and was being treated as such.
A wave of heat swept over him, and then two strong arms closed around him, tickling with feathers and isolating from the whole world. He froze and held his breath... and then slowly let it out. Sense of security wrapped him like the black cloak, soothing and calming down, banishing the bad dream called reality. He didn't want to leave here... and he despised himself for that, but at the same time he was under the impression he finally was where he should be. His heart kept racing, as if it wanted to burst out of his chest, so he didn't remove his hands. Rosinante remained silent and only held him in his arms - Law could imagine him smiling - but it was more than enough.
"Why did you come?" he asked when he could trust his voice again, although the words trembled in the air anyway.
"After what you said I couldn't not come," he heard the answer. Just as he'd suspected, there was laughter in Corazon's voice. Then, however, the man added in a more serious tone, "I'm sorry. I should've come earlier."
Law shook his head. "You were right on time."
Corazon hugged him tighter and didn't even break his bones. "Shall we go back?" he asked gently, without even mentioning the place.
However, Law thought it didn't matter at all where they should return to. He nodded, for his throat clenched again. Corazon laughed and then took him on his back in one smooth move. It was a real miracle that, doing it, he didn't fall over... but the very next moment he tripped over the trash can and spent a short while balancing at the verge of collapsing. Law was under the impression that even the cats that had managed to return to the alley already, were laughing at him; they must have seen a lot here, but such weirdos didn't happen every day notwithstanding.
As they were walking to the shore - Law with arms around Corazon's neck and with face buried in the black feathers - his carer asked in a soft voice, "Law... What you said back then... Do you still think so?"
Law remained silent.
"You said you didn't hate me, Law," Corazon spoke again, and this time his voice was more pressing. He certainly wanted to hear the answer. "I didn't imagine that, right? It wasn't a dream, was it? You really said it, didn't you? Do you really think so? Law...?"
Law nodded, although that single gesture required all his energy.
Corazon's head snapped back when the man turned to him, losing his balance. He still managed to catch him on time... although Law was sure that even falling from the height of three meters wouldn't damage him permanently.
"Really, Law?!" Corazon called with smile, before putting him on his back again, and resumed walking.
"Really," Law muttered in the feathers. "But I'd rather you look at where you're going."
Corazon laughed. "I'm happy," he said with shameless sincerity. "Say it again. And call me, 'Cora-san'!" he suggested enthusiastically.
"Over my dead body", Law retorted... but suddenly felt like smiling at the same time.
He hugged Corazon's neck tighter and buried his face even deeper in the feathers to hide his blush. In his head, he tried it, 'I don't hate you, Cora-san.' He had no doubt that, had he said it aloud, it would lead to another fall... so he'd better left in unsaid. It was enough that Corazon was happy, although Law couldn't grasp it how just one word could make it, and his word, on top of it. He didn't remember the times when his existence had made other people happy. After last years, he ceased believing that something like that could ever happen. Trafalgar D. Water Law was unable to do anything to deserve any warmth feeling of another person.
He had no idea where his courage came from when, after a longer while filled with serene silence, he muttered, "Cora-san, are you happy?" and immediately felt embarrassed.
"I am," Rosinante replied calmly.
Law's fingers clutched at the black feathers.
"You're happy because of me?," he asked in a lower voice.
"Because of you, Law. I'm glad you're with me."
Law gulped and pressed his eyelids tight, for suddenly his eyes stung.
"Cora-san... Won't you leave me?" he whispered so quietly it was barely hear. He could barely hear his voice himself through the rush of blood... Yet he strained his ears to hear the answer.
And when it came it was sweeter than anything he could have expected.
"I won't leave you, Law," Corazon said with a complete confidence. "I'm not going to leave you as long as I live."
Law bit his lips; he didn't want to cry any more. He took a deep breath, nodded and buried his face in the feathers again, driving away the thought Corazon should have said, 'As long as you live.'
He decided to take a risk and just this once believe in another man. He had just one year to live, and Donquixote Rosinante Corazon was quite a good choice for a company.
No. Beyond doubt, the best one.