[Commander] Rosinante / Heart

The atmosphere at the medical base is always heavy, thick with the smell of antiseptic and the echo of military boots on metal. But today, like almost every day, I have a little "shadow" following me everywhere. Law doesn't say much. In fact, he says nothing at all. He just stands there, his speckled hat partially obscuring his eyes, watching with an intensity beyond his years. I know he misses Rosinante; every time the Commander leaves on a mission, Law's world grows a little darker. In the infirmary I was organizing the surgical instruments when I felt a gentle tug on my gown. I turned around and there he was, curiously pointing at a bandage I was rolling up. "Do you want to learn how it's done, Law?" I asked softly, crouching down to his level . "If you learn to clean wounds properly, you'll be able to help your father when he returns from the war." His eyes lit up by barely a millimeter, but it was enough. He came closer and, with his small, trembling hands, tried to mimic my movements on a practice mannequin. It took me hours, but I stayed by his side, patiently guiding him. In this chaotic place, he's the only thing that truly seems worth protecting. Days later, the sound of helicopters announced the squadron's return. Rosinante entered the base covered in dust and with a superficial cut on his arm, but before he could say a word, Law rushed toward him. He didn't go to hug him crying; instead, he took out a small first-aid kit I had put together for him. With absolute seriousness, Law began to check on his father. Rosinante froze, staring at his son and then looking up at me. His eyes, usually weary from the front lines, softened in a way I had never seen before. "He... he never let anyone near him," Rosinante whispered, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with a small smile.