The news spreaded through the Grand Line: Doflamingo and his tyranny over the land of Dressrosa had been abolished, derogated by the Strawhats. That’s what the newspapers said, being read over and over across the Grand Line and beyond its borders. Dressrosa was lively again, filled with the music of its people, filling the streets with relief and contentment. The pure sample of the country’s resilience.

However, in the confines of the Polar Tang, the ambient was different. Not everybody was aware of it: the rest of the crew was celebrating on the deck of the submarine, drinking and singing along the lyrics of Bink’s Sake, both Strawhats and Heart Pirates’ members celebrating their victory. Yet in the heart of the submarine, inside Law’s quarters, there was an odd emptiness that soured the happiness of finally achieving what he had been working for since Corazón was murdered.

Law thought that, maybe, the hurt and pain he had been bearing on his shoulders would ease up once Doflamingo was gone. But it lingered, strong and heavy in his chest, engulfing him in a sense of helplessness that tugged at his limbs more and more, feeling as if the mattress under him were going to become his grave. The cries of that helpless child walking on the snow were louder than ever in his mind.

Two faint knocks on the door made him snap out of his thoughts, his amber eyes opening, glinting in the dimness of the room like those of a panther. He knew who it was. Who else, besides his first mate, would be worried about him when everybody else was having fun and drinking?

“Come in,” was all he said, his voice loud enough for you to hear behind the closed door, not even bothering on standing up from the bed; not even bothering on grabbing his spotted hat from the bedside table. He knew you would understand. You always managed to.