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For all that he's newly in mourning, Law can't stop to grieve. He has to get off Minion Island and find somewhere safe where he can tear the rest of the Amber Lead out of his system and recover. With no resources but his as-of-yet unmastered Devil Fruit powers and his wits, he turns to theft to survive. Only, he's very ill still, and he fumbles it—while trying to knick some things from a market stall, he stumbles, and the shopkeep notices him sliding an item into his cloak. He manages to escape without being caught, but he can't go back to the market; they're all on the lookout for him now.
As the sun sinks below the horizon, he ends up bedding down in a mostly-dry cave on the stoney beach of the island, cursing his bad luck. Digging through the trash hadn't afforded him anything other than mouldy bread crusts, and he's certainly not desperate enough to consider those food yet. So, when he turns out his pockets, he's got all of a candle and a couple matches, and that's about it.
The candle is long and white; pretty enough that it might be worth a couple berry to someone who doesn't know it was stolen. He'll have to wait to sell it until he gets to another market, but it's something. The matches, meanwhile… well. There's half a book of them, but there's also nothing here to burn. The afternoon had drizzled freezing rain, and anything on the beach that he could have used as firewood is far too damp to light.
It's still going to be a long, cold, hungry night.
As Law shivers in the dark, curled up around his grumbling belly under the questionable insulation of his cloak and hat, he thinks, "What if I lit one of the matches, even though there's no kindling for the fire?"
It might not last long, but even with the book being half-empty, there's still several there. Surely he can afford one, just to hold for a bit? Just to heat his hands?
Kssht!
The moment the flame takes, Law knows he's not going to regret it. It's wonderful to have a light to break the oppressive darkness of the cave. As he considers the flickering glow, it seems almost as if he's sitting in front of the campfire that he and Cora-san used to share, crackling hot and bright. If he lets his eyelids slid shut a little bit more, he can almost hear Cora-san stumbling back to camp, carrying more firewood, perhaps, or a string of fish if he'd managed not to tangle his fishing line. Law inhales, about to call out to Cora-san to be careful where he steps—but then the light goes out. He opens his eyes to darkness and a winding thread of smoke rising up to the ceiling of the cave.
Heart aching, Law glances at his matchbook and thinks, "What's one more?"
Kssht!
He strikes another match, and when it lights, he's thrown back to a different scene from the past. He clenches his teeth as he thinks about sitting on their too-small boat, sailing from island to island, reading by lantern light. After dark, when the temperature dropped and the night breeze got sharp, Cora-san would reach out and snag Law by the collar, dropping him into his lap. Law would complain and squirm at first, but only until Cora-san pulled the lantern over so that Law could keep reading whatever novel he'd picked up at the last island. It was too comfortable in Cora-san's arms to insist on solitude—the man's coat blocked the wind better than Law's, and Cora-san himself was so warm. Leaning back into his broad chest instantly sent Law into a drowsy stupor every time. He barely ever made it more than a chapter before his head started to nod.
As Law gazes into the matchlight, he can almost feel big hands draping the folds of a feathery coat over his shoulders. He reaches out to catch one of them in his own—but then the flame dies. The coat falls away. Once more, all that's left is a burnt-out match and emptiness.
Kssht!
The sun blazes down on Law's head as he crouches in a hard, wooden treasure chest, but it's outshone by the expression on Cora-san's face.
"Law!" Cora-san shouts. "I love you!"
"Cora-san!" Law croaks, hands shaking so hard that he almost drops the match.
His smile is so wide, so bright. It's beautiful. Law wants to look at it forever. He wants it to be the first thing he sees when he wakes, the last thing he sees before he sleeps. He wants to carve it into his skin, keep it with him wherever he goes. He can't lose it.
Kssht! Kssht! Kssht!
Match after match scrapes against the cave wall, sacrificed in the name of keeping that smile shining for just another minute, just another second. When Law reaches for the book and finds it empty, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the candle without a second thought. The wick catches easily, and its light is smoother and brighter than the wavering flame of the matches, seeming to bring Cora-san even closer then before.
"Cora-san," Law sniffles, scrubbing at his face to dry the tears that he's powerless to stop. Through blurry eyes, he can almost imagine that tall, pale figure as the form of his beloved person. In Law's mind's eye, he sees him: radiant, whole, dressed all in white, but for the ever-present blaze flickering from his cigarette.
Or maybe in his hair. Stupid Cora-san!
And yet, even ablaze, he's wearing an expression of love so earnest and true that Law can't be mad at him.
"Please take me with you…" Law knows he must look as ugly as he sounds with snot and tears pouring down his face. Still, he can't stop himself from begging, ragged and desperate though he might be. "I miss you so much!"
As he cries, all of the hunger and cold and exhaustion that he'd been fighting off conspire to drag at his tired eyes. Though he struggles to keep them open and keep soaking in the sight of his Cora-san, this battle is one that he was never going to win.
"Shh," a voice seems to whisper to him. "Rest, Law. I'm here."
"Don't go," Law mumbles, reaching out blindly with faltering hands.
"It's okay. I'll keep the cold away…"
The world goes dark.
At dawn, Law blinks awake with crusty eyes and a dry mouth. He flexes his fingers, which are chilled numb.
"Stupid," he grumbles, testing his dexterity with a frown on his face. "Lucky I didn't get frostbite."
Lucky he didn't die, if he's being honest. He came dangerously close to hypothermia, given the thickness of the ice that's built up at the cave mouth over night.
All I had to keep warm was…
Law glances at the remains of the candle. A strange sense of curiosity overcomes him, and he reaches out to touch the puddled wax. It should have been cold and hard but, to his surprise, while it's not hot enough to burn him, it's still warm enough that it squishes under his fingertip.
"What the hell…"
A sudden, impossibly temperate breeze sweeps through the cave, jerking Law's hat off his head and pushing his bangs into his eyes.
"Augh!" When Law curls over to scrape his hair out of his face, he feels a tickle at the nape of his exposed neck. The sensation echoes the brush of a soft, woolen hat string, or maybe the press of a familiar pair of chapped lips.
Law's head jerks up.
"Cora-?!"
But when he manages to blink his eyes open, there's no one there. All that lies before him is the empty mouth of the cave, and the sunlit snowfields beyond it.
Law sighs and reaches out to grab his hat off the ground, brushing it clean of dirt. He knows he's just imagining things, knows that it's impossbile for Cora-san to be here. And yet…
When he finally stumbles out of the cave, he's got a lump of sandy wax in his pocket. Just in case.