16


Tashigi opened the door at Smoker's prompting, and walked in, Hina right behind her. It took Law a few moments to gather the strength needed to follow – Smoker reached out and touched his arm to do so. Rooted in place, Law didn't move. But after a slow exhale, he did it, walking into the surprisingly open room that was decorated with houseplants, flowery printed curtains, tables that looked as if they were purchased from a furniture showroom. There were couches facing each other, comfortable chairs nearby, a coffee table with newspapers and current magazines with neutral topics.

His parents were sitting on a loveseat, and when he finally lifted his head to look at them, his mother was openly crying, tears rolling down her cheeks in fat blobs, and his father looked very close to doing the same. Both of them looked familiar and not at the same time; they were older, with visible greys, with visible wrinkles, and they looked the same as he did; as if they hadn't slept in weeks. They looked a lot thinner, harder; his mother had shorter hair, cut nearly bob length under her ears, which sparkled with small stones. His father had his combed to the side, and wore a stiff collared shirt with a simple tie, his mother in a dress and cardigan.

Hina passed tissue over, but Law could feel himself growing angry. How unfair of them to express these feelings; he could have used them years ago. But his mother had been indifferent, and his father had been angry, and now they were expressing these crocodile tears? Was it just a show for the workers present, to show that they'd changed?

"Lorenzo, Lainey," Smoker said, Tashigi closing the door behind them. "Here's your son."

Don't say that, Law thought, and he thought he said it aloud, but his tongue refused to budge. He felt, with their parents changing expressions, that he had. But he watched his father's shaking hands come up to his face, rub ferociously while Lainey continued to cry silently. He already felt that he'd disappointed them, the way they kept looking at him, taking in every visible part of him with growing expressions of horror.

What did they expect? What did they expect to find, after all of this time? His fists tightened. Their expressions said enough for him at that point.

"What is this?" his father asked stiffly, and his voice was exactly as Law remembered it. "This – he looks like he's not being taken care of! What sort of program is this?"

"Ah, well…it's understandable that you feel that way," Smoker said, nonplussed by Lorenzo's tone. "Trust me, we've had this argument plenty of times. Law is very stubborn, and he knows what he's going to do, with or without anyone's advice. Admittedly, this has been a problem – "

"The state funds this program to ensure that our children are placed in homes that take care of them! He does not look as if any care was taken to him in years!"

"And yet, he was placed in our care," Hina said smoothly, sitting down in a chair between Law's parents and Smoker, crossing her legs primly. Immense guilt caused Lorenzo to back off, hands moving back to his face, rubbing stiffly. "Admittedly, Law is one of our biggest problem children because he is also one of our most stubborn ones. He refuses to stay in homes that don't suit his needs, and he tends to make his own choices to determine what sort of home fits him. The current home he chose gives him what he needs. If he finds it fitting, then how are we to discourage him?"

"He's as tall as a tree, but more than likely, his danged metabolism is probably what keeps him stick thin. And, yes, despite the situation, children will be stressed about their living conditions no matter where," Tashigi said, pushing up her glasses. "So of course he looks the way he does! But that doesn't mean he isn't being cared for."

"We just want him permanently in a place where he will be satisfied," Smoker added. "That's the true goal, here."

"Our home is open!" Lainey managed to say, breathing deeply to do so. She wiped her eyes and nose. "Our home is open. Law…!"

Law did not feel any pull towards them; he still felt an intense stubbornness to keep his distance. He felt offence towards his appearance, but he knew it, he expected it, so he didn't feel any shock or shame in that. He did not feel the need to address them, or look at them any further. He could feel their eyes burning into him, could hear their upset breathing, but he was numb to all of that. All he knew was that their past wasn't going to go away that fast, that majestically. Just because they were slipping a few tears here and there meant nothing for him.

"Would you like to sit, Law?" Hina asked him, indicating the other couch.

He shook his head. If they were shocked at his appearance, then they'd certainly take notice of his stench. He was so hot and sweaty, crossing his arms self-consciously, knowing that Smoker was not getting this shirt back.

Lainey stood, Lorenzo reaching out to support her. It looked like he tried to stand with her, but his knees were shaking, so he took a heavy seat back. It was discomforting to note, for Law, that he shared so many of his father's characteristics. His thick dark hair, his build, his facial structure; but he had his mother's eyes. And Lamie would have looked like Lainey – if she had been allowed to live, she would have had the same auburn hair, the same bright gray eyes.

"Law…Water, please….give us a chance," Lainey asked, voice shaking. "Give us a chance…! We know you've been through a lot, more than any child should, and we want you back! This should have never happened! None of it! Please let us fix this – it can be fixed!"

Like Lamie? Law thought, glancing at her. it was on his tongue, ready to go, but his mouth just wouldn't work.

"You won't get much out of him," Smoker said, Tashigi clearing her throat noisily. "He's one of those very quiet kids. I almost had the thought of putting bells on his shoes just to know where he was at all times."

"Does he still…?" Lorenzo trailed off, then tried again, stumbling over Law's name, "Law…do you still…?"

"Yes, we're quite aware of it," Smoker said in response, Lainey grabbing more tissue to use as she sat down, reading Law's body language. But she struggled to compose herself, reaching out for Lorenzo's hand before quickly releasing it. "Unfortunately, due to school variances, he was unable to attend any type of speech therapy this year. Our funding doesn't allow us to find these resources for him. State, and all. There's only so much we can provide."

"I would pay, everything, to help," Lorenzo said tightly, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes. "It's not too late to do that."

"These types of problems are only exacerbated by certain situations, and you certainly can't say that he hasn't tried to remedy this himself," Hina said. "Unfortunately, resources are limited. That's just how it is."

"We can arrange for private therapy sessions," Tashigi said, making notes. "But it would have to be funded entirely under your dime."

"I have it! I have everything necessary to do anything for…for my son. Law," Lorenzo said, looking at him desperately. "As your mother said…give us a chance to fix things. To mend this. I know it must be terribly difficult to even trust a word we've said, or even look us in the eye again, but…we want you back home. That's all we want. Everything from there will work out. We can do this. Let us take care of you."

'Don't give yourself up so easily,' Law heard Sanji say. They were good words of advice; anybody could put on a show.

Smoker looked at him. "Would you like to say anything?"

Law shook his head every so slightly.

"Let Hina go over a few things with you," Hina then said firmly. "For this unification plan to work, there is counseling that needs to be completed with both parties, evaluations to be done on his behalf plans made for possible permanent living situations. We are quite aware that you've been given a clearance by the judge presiding over his case, allowing him back to your home. But let us be realistic – he is near mature minor status, which doesn't require him to make any sort of contact with you. I believe that Smoker feels that once he reaches this status, we will then assist with his planned permanent living arrangements, and we cannot help you get into contact with him, any further. We will be performing weekly meetings, Law, in order to re-establish you with your parents. After that, it is up to you. Twenty minutes every week – we were lucky to even get that."

Forced weekly meetings with his parents until his birthday? Law felt pissed at this, looking at Smoker. Smoker shrugged in response. "Our job is to reunite families, fix them," he reminded him. "We have to put forth our best efforts to do so. This is part of it."

"I don't have time for this," Law told him low, almost in a whisper.

"It's on a weekend, so your duties will be covered appropriately."

"It's not fair to Rosinante – "

"He has a brother that can do whatever it is you do, better. This is for you, not them!"

" 'Duties'?" Lorenzo repeated, overhearing small parts of their argument. "What sort of duties?"

"In his spare time, Law takes care of a dementia patient. He's very fond of him, and he's very worried about their possible separation," Smoker said.

Lorenzo looked outraged, Lainey's eyes filling up once again. "How is that even allowable? Dementia patients require around the clock care, and if he's taking care of someone in that state, then it's no wonder - !"

"It's none of your goddamn business," Law snapped at him, silencing him.

"Settle," Smoker warned him. "He's thinking the same way I do about the situation."

"This home gives Law comfort in purpose," Tashigi said quickly. "Some teenagers have turned to negative things in order to cope with their living arrangements, but he chose to care for this particular person, and it's made him feel good about himself."

"Tashigi," Smoker said with a slight grimace.

"What part of this picture makes you people think that he 'feels good about himself'?" Lorenzo asked, standing up. He struggled to maintain the volume of his voice, Law looking right at him as those unwanted memories returned. "He's obviously not invested into care for himself! Who the hell is taking care of him while he's taking care of a dementia patient?"

"Did I say the wrong thing?" Tashigi asked no one in particular, fretting as Lainey reached out and gripped Lorenzo's shirt, tugging on him to sit down, to lower his voice.

Smoker saw the two sharp pats, and exhaled heavily. "I'm afraid we're done, for today."

"No - !" Lainey exclaimed, rising to stand sharply. "No, not yet. Not yet, we just started!"

"I'm sorry, but for our first meeting, that'll have to be it. We'll leave, first."

Lorenzo gripped his hair with frustration, sitting with a heavy motion back down onto the couch. Lainey looked at Law with such a broken expression that Tashigi teared up instantly. Hina's lips shifted to the side of her mouth as she observed them.

"Law!"

Law found it difficult to look in his mother's direction, but he did it, somehow. She lowered her hand, as if she'd been reaching out to stop him from leaving. Clutching the tissue in her hands, lowering it to her side, she then said, "Please come back. Please come back to the next meeting. We'll be waiting for you. Your father and I - there's so much we can give you, so much that we can provide, if you'd just let us! Please…please…we don't want to lose you, again…"

"Ah, didn't you have something you wanted to give him?" Hina asked, rising from her chair.

Lorenzo jolted, then jerked to the side of the couch, pulling out a plain bag. Hina took it, crossing the space necessary to give it to Law. Law wasn't sure if he wanted to take it, unable to look inside to see what it was. Smoker took it for him.

"It was yours," Lorenzo said quietly. "We…when we moved, we…found it underneath your desk."

Law thought about the loss of his childhood home. For some reason, he'd always thought it would be there. But he figured the memories of Lamie were too painful to endure, and moving sounded reasonable. Smoker opened the door and let Law out first, coming out behind him. He shut the door, looking into the bag before giving it to Law.

Law looked at the bag. He wasn't ready to accept anything from his parents. Smoker understood.

"Good job, kiddo," he said, moving down the hall at a brisk pace. "You did it. First meeting down."

I don't want to do this again, Law thought angrily, following after him. His fists clenched once more, arms finally lowering to his sides. Everything felt so stiff and sore from holding the position for so long, that when he finally made an abrupt movement, it hurt.

"It went well. They're ready to take you back home. They'd do it today, if we were able to do so," Smoker continued, stopping at his office to drop off the bag, finding his cigarettes and leading the way outside. Once there, just within the parking lot, they each sucked down much needed nicotine. Law glared at the asphalt, running the entire scene though his mind. Now that he was away from the danger zone, he could think more clearly.

He still felt a great deal of mistrust in his parents' emotions, and he didn't feel he could trust himself to make a good decision based off today's face-to-face sit down. Sure, they could sit there and cry tears looking into his face, but afterward, as they walked to their car, did they wear the same face?

His question was answered when he became aware of moving noise off to his right. There, in plain view, he watched as Lorenzo led Lainy to a maroon Sedan parked on the street, Lainy nearly inconsolable. Lorenzo looked in a similar state, but was handling himself as he needed to, fumbling with the keypad to the car. Once inside, Lainy continued to sob while Lorenzo gripped the steering wheel and heaved his own grief. Seeing them like that made Law feel something deep inside of him. He remembered seeing them in that state long ago, when Lamie had finally given in. It was a painful memory.

Smoker saw that Law had noticed them, plucking out another cigarette. They'd be standing here for awhile, much like those two in the parking lot. He couldn't read Law's expression, wishing he could somehow hear his thoughts, but he'd timed the moment perfectly.

: :

The next morning happened without fanfare. Law's expression wasn't any different from yesterday. He still looked long gone in some fantasy world, undeterred by the current class plans. Sanji wondered the outcome, nervously chewing on his nails as he watched the back of Law's head. He couldn't risk passing notes in this class, so he told himself to wait it out until lunch. There was a movie playing, some documentary about the current state of law enforcement, so everyone was focused forward. Niji was napping soundly, snoring obnoxiously loud while Yonji watched with interest, occasionally beating on the kid next to him with enthusiasm.

When Law slouched in his chair, tucking his hands underneath his armpits – it was so cold in the classroom that everyone was hunkered within their sweaters or had their arms wrapped around themselves - Sanji caught sight of his nails. He frowned heavily, rummaging through his bag until he found what was looking for. He managed to clip the longer middle fingernail, but the sound was so obnoxiously loud and Law reacted with such a start that everyone looked over at him suspiciously. Sanji put the nail clippers in his sweater pocket and frowned ahead of him. When they all resettled, Law flipped him off after examining his nail.

Sanji wrote on a small slip of notebook paper, and pushed it into his armpit. Law scowled back at him, brushing it away and resettling in his seat. With a huff, Sanji retrieved the paper and tossed it at him upon straightening, but Law made no move to look at it. So it gave Sanji some time to think about what he was doing. Maybe it wasn't his place to ask about these types of things, but he was so fucking curious that he couldn't drop it.

Niji snorted himself awake and sat up with a frown, yawning noisily when he saw that the movie was still playing. "Hey, Mr Hansen, have you ever seen the movie, 'Bad Teacher'?"

"Shut up, Niji!" Yonji hissed at him.

"Yonji's going to Bad Cop your ass," Sanji told Niji, snickering as he leaned over his desk.

Niji scowled heavily at him, and resettled in his seat. He did look a little nervous, considering how fascinated Yonji was with the documentary. Sanji had to laugh at this, causing Niji to throw his pencil at him.

After class, Sanji snatched his things and raced out of the classroom, Niji shouting after him. But all Sanji did was hide in the next hallway, chewing on his fingernails again as he waited for Law to pass by. Once he did, Sanji hastily pulled out his notebook to look it over while he also waited for those two dorks that followed after Law from a distance to pass by. Then he ventured in that direction. When Law exchanged his textbooks for next class, and those two hit the restroom nearby, looking over a Nintendo Switch, Sanji hurried after Law.

"Well, how'd it go?" he asked, slapping his bag atop a desk while Law took his seat with a scowl.

"Leave me alone," he muttered, examining his clipped nail.

With irritation, Sanji stared down at him, looking for a hint of yesterday to show on Law's face. He pulled out his nail clippers again, and Law retracted his hand underneath the desk.

"I did something nice for you," Sanji said low. "The least you could do is repay a favor."

Law rolled his eyes, slouching his shoulders while he folded his hands underneath the desktop. "You threatened me until you got your way. Again."

Sanji showed him the notebook, including the pages of their 'conversation'. Law stared up at him venomously. "Would be a shame if Smoker got ahold of this."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Putting the notebook aside, Sanji weighed his options. Finally, he held his hand out, indicating that Law do the same. Law just glared at his hand, then at him.

"What."

"Give it to me."

"Give what to you?"

"Your hand."

"Why? No."

"Oh, so you want Smoker to know the real story behind your goddamn nose?"

It was just a month. Just a month. Recalling the concern his father had expressed over his care, Smoker could speed up the process, cutting his time with Rosinante short.

With a heavy exhale, Law drew up his hand. Then propped up his face with his other hand as Sanji took the other one, and began clipping with a creepily happy face. The silence in the classroom was immense to allow the noise of the clipper in action, and Law found himself flushing with embarrassment as he watched the doors, ready to draw his hand back if anyone came by.

When Sanji released that hand, Law looked at his nails to judge the work, then sat up with a start, looking at his nails with a disgusted expression. Instead of clipping them straight across, Sanji had created sharp v's in the length, so they resembled shark teeth. Sanji released a snicker, proud of his work.

"I used to clip my thumbnail like that, so I could scratch the shit out of my brothers!" Sanji explained, putting the nail clippers away. "But then one day, all of them pinned me down so Ichiji could clip them down to the pink. Fuck, that hurt. That's why I always keep them short."

"For fuck's sake, give me those! This looks stupid!"

"Having girly nails looks stupider! These look bad-ass."

Law ended up chewing them, spitting the remnants out at him in effect. Sanji had to move to avoid being spit on, but he resettled in a desk catty corner to him. "So…? Are you going back to them?"

"It's none of your business."

"I am the only friend you have here. So you might as well as spill."

"You're not my 'friend'."

"It must've went well, because you're not carrying yourself with attitude," Sanji decided, glancing at the doorway when he heard passing voices. He looked back at Law with a frown, then passed the nail clippers over when Law started chewing on the other set. Taking the clippers, Law tended to those with a stubborn frown. Seeing that he wasn't going to talk about it frustrated Sanji, because he was waiting all day and night to hear the results, replaying everything back in his thoughts until he had every detail down.

Then he had to remind himself that Law wasn't him – and of course it made sense that Law wouldn't say anything to him. He didn't have to.

They weren't 'friends'.

After he was done clipping his nails, Law slid the clippers across the desk in his direction, so Sanji caught them, putting them away. After a few moments, Law said uncomfortably, "Hey."

Perking up, anticipating a 'thanks' of some kind, Sanji waited, trying to hide his eager expression.

"I know what you're doing, and you need to stop," Law muttered, looking off in another direction.

"What am I doing?" Sanji asked, furrowing his brow.

"Giving me all this and…expecting…something back."

"What, I'm not being a prick or anything, I'm just trying to – "

"I'm not like you."

Sanji heard the meaning behind that clearly, and he understood it. He frowned uncomfortably, feeling his cheeks redden. "Of course not. Never said that you were," he mumbled.

"You're not getting anything from me."

"Pulling words from you is like pulling teeth, I get that. I just – "

"I'm not a fucking faggot. All right? I'm not going to suck your dick just because you're being fucking nice to me."

Shocked, Sanji just looked at him. He wasn't expecting that, nor was he doing anything for that as an award. He stood up from the desk with a startled air, unexpectedly confused, hurt and angry.

"I was never aiming for that," he stuttered. "Jesus. Why would you even think - ?"

"Because that's what all you assholes want. You're not just 'nice' for no fucking reason," Law repeated firmly, finally looking at him.

Red-faced, Sanji clutched his bag strap. He couldn't even think of the words needed to deny, explain or even get angry to curse at him. He couldn't even fathom the sort of things Law was telling him, but he did have the vague thought that this must happen a lot. Law was asserting himself very firmly, and Sanji, who didn't even understand that method in the first place, was stuck in a reel backwards, unsure of how to catch himself.

"Thought I was just being a…friend," he said shakily, stumbling over the word.

"You're not my 'friend'. We're not 'friends'. You attached yourself to me like a fucking weirdo and won't get the fucking hint."

Which was, to be honest, a little true. Stubbornly, Sanji said, "God, are you that damaged, you just automatically think the worst of things, first?"

"Like you weren't. You threw a trashcan at me the second week I was here! Now, suddenly, you're nice to me? Fuck you."

"I told you why - !"

"Real fucking suspicious. I know what I look like, smell like, and you're being 'nice' to me out of the kindness of your heart? Fuck you."

"Because I want your opinion, and I want to hear your thoughts! I – I admire you! You're smart and stupid at the same time!"

"Bullshit. No one has ever been 'nice' to me just because. Fuck off, Sanji."

Sanji reddened, growing more and more upset being called out in this fashion. While definitely embarrassing that he was placed in this situation, his feelings disregarded, he'd had years of fighting with his brothers to prove himself. A shove wasn't going to intimidate him, or force him away, and this is what it was. A shove. Because while he wasn't sure where he was going with this, that suggestion hadn't been his goal at all. All he wanted was Law's fucking attention, and he did what he could to get it, through methods that he knew worked.

Stubbornly, he hiked his bag around him. The bell rang at that moment, and he turned to walk away. But he paused in the front of the class, and said with warning, "This is only going to make me try harder, you know. I hate having to prove myself all the fucking time, but if I have to do it like this, then so be it. I'll make your life more fucking miserable with my affection."

Law just gave him an exasperated look, sweeping his fingernails to the floor. "I'm not worth that heart attack."

"Obviously, I think you are, you shitty stain!"

Sanji left the classroom in a huff, and Law stared out the window. As kids filed in, the teacher popping in moments later with a coffee cup, he had to snort. Did that kid just threaten him with affection?