Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.
"Dead Bones" Brook: the skeletal survivor of the Florian Triangle. At the moment, he was fairly sure he was going mad, the isolation gnawing away at his mind like termites at wood. He slowly paced the deck of the dilapidated ship he had called home for the last fifty years, every inch of the wood memorized to the point that you could spin him senseless and he would still be able to find everything without hesitation. There was no change, nothing to distract him from the loneliness and survivor's guilt that had long ago settled on his soul like a wet blanket.
"Laboon." He murmured, his mind wandering off to a time when he and the Rumbar Pirates had happily sailed around in the company of a cute baby island whale. The promise he had made to that whale was the only thing that kept the strangely-haired skeleton from succumbing to insanity altogether. Though, with the way things were going for him now, he might lose the battle before he ever found a way out of this accursed sea.
Before his thoughts could sink too far into depression, Brook fetched his violin, and went to go stand near the prow of the ship. Singing was the one and only thing that kept Brook semi-sane during his long solitude. It would help him clear his mind and keep the demons at bay.
The long, skeletal fingers had just settled the bow against the strings, when something caught their owner's non-existent eye. A flash. The pale light dancing off some piece of metal that was far too polished to belong to him (save for the blade of his cane-sword). Curious, Brook set his violin back into its case and leaned over the rail in an attempt to see what was reflecting the light. Normally, the skeleton would never try such a move, because the rails were rotted to the point that even a light skeleton was not guaranteed safety when leaning on them, but the flashing of light on polished metal was something new, and in the mind of "Dead Bones" Brook, new things were valuable. Their value lay in their ability to distract him, and thus help him preserve his sanity for a short while longer.
When Brook was leaning perilously over the railing, he finally saw what had caught his eye. His jaw dropped (not literally, thank goodness, or that would have caused problems), and he almost fell overboard in shock. The source of the polished metal had been a medallion. The medallion was attached to a piece of ribbon that, in turn, was tied around the neck of an unconscious young girl, lying, apparently unconscious, on a raft barely big enough to fit her size. Her clothing was ragged almost to the point of indecency, and her long blonde hair was a tangled, dirty mess. She looked like she had been through Hell and back. That was part of the reason why the medallion caught the eye so much: its polished metal struck such a contrast with the girl's dilapidated appearance that it was like a white dot on a black background, impossible to ignore.
Brook had forgotten his voice for a moment, as he watched the raft float up to a spot alongside the ship. He was fairly sure that this wasn't another of his hallucinations. For one thing, he usually hallucinated about his past, the rumbar pirates, even Laboon on occasion. He had never once hallucinated a stranger, and had no idea where this girl would have come from even if he had been in the habit of conjuring up random persons. No, this girl had to be real, or he would eat his afro.
"Hello?" He called down to the girl, waving slightly though he knew she wouldn't see it since she was unconscious. "Young one? Are you alive?"
No reply. If he were honest, Brook would have to admit that he hadn't been expecting one.
"Hello?" He tried again, once more, before running off across the deck so fast that he ended up tripping over his own long legs more than once. The subject of his scramble was a coil of rope located inside the belly of the ship. Grabbing it, Brook ran back up onto the deck and almost rammed right through the railing while attempting a last-second stop. In the back of his mind, he wondered when was the last time he had felt this much energy. Not since before he had lost his shadow, surely. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting that girl onto the ship before she slipped off of that pitiful excuse for a raft.
Looping the rope around one boney hand, Brook flung the other end of it out into the water. It missed the raft completely. Giving himself an encouraging "yo-ho-ho" to keep himself from getting frustrated, Brook tried again. This time, the rope landed squarely across the girl's back. She moved! Brook watched, his non-existent eyes widening as her hand closed on the rope and she lifted it up as if tiredly inspecting it. He gently tugged on his end, and her grip tightened on it, allowing him to pull the raft over to the side of the ship.
By the time he managed to bring the raft close enough for him to fetch the girl onto the ship itself, she had already fallen back into unconsciousness.