Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of its characters. Everything belongs to Eiichiro Oda.
Title: A Hundred Whispers of the Wind
Summary: A hundred drabbles about pirates, crews, adventures and stories untold.
Rating: K+ (each chapter may have a different rating)
Characters: Brooke
Chapter Title: Time Waits For No One
Chapter Summary: How does one kill time in a place where time has lost meaning?
Warnings: None (each chapter may have varying warnings)
Author's Notes:
We could only imagine what kind of despair that Brooke went through being alone for fifty years.


Tick tock tick tock

Brooke spent his mornings lying in bed. He had unfortunately always been an early riser and even when all the clocks on the ship became irreparable and he couldn't tell when it was day or night, his body would jolt him awake from his quiet slumber, leaving him wide awake and listening to the empty sounds of the ship.

Tick tock tick tock

Every morning, Brooke would pick up his violin and play his favourite song. Its melody was soothing and as its last merry tune faded to nothingness, he gave himself a cheerful smile. It was a new day and he would make the most of it. He always did.

Tick tock tick tock

Food was a precious accomodation that brought a little warmth back into Brooke's cold bones. But after so many years, the food supply that could have sustained a crew of thirty was dwindled down to a pitiful amount. Once a year, Brooke would allow himself to feast on a small portion and he would party throughout the day and night, music ringing and blaring out through the thickest fog.

Tick tock tick tock

On the days where his bones became stiff from lying so long on the creaking floorboards, Brooke made it his mission to wash and clean over the ship. He would use the mops and brooms that were still in use and whizz over the ship, singing and humming to himself as he carefully inspected every section of the ship and washed it as best as he could. The effort would take a few days at most and he considered it a personal best when he managed to extend his exercise into seven days.

Tick tock tick tock

He learned to play every instrument that remained on the ship. The trumpets and trombones blasted out their beats, joyous to be played once again. The viola was a quiet steady sound with the cello thrumming powerfully alongside. High and shrill was the flute's song and the clarinet matched its tune. A steady pulse flowed from the drums and the accompanying cymbals clashed like lightning. It was during these times that Brooke felt the most alive.

Tick tock tick tock

It became a habit of his without him realizing it that he would talk to no one in particular. " Oh dear, the steering wheel will be gone at this rate." " I finished all the books in the library!" " Did you see that? A ghost!" "Ahh! If I was that bird, I wouldn't go that way."

Tick tock tick tock

The room that contained his friends' remains was a room that he simultaneously hated and longed to be near. There was no grave to bury them or flowers to bring them. They were only a painful and sad memory that he couldn't save his crew and at the same time, of a happier time when the crew was complete.

Tick tock tick tock

There were days (maybe weeks, maybe months) when Brooke lacked the energy to do anything. His thoughts would turn towards a little whale as he wondered if his friend would wait for him or had already passed on and joined his friends in the afterlife. He longed to go (it would be so easy, just to take a leap and disappear into the dark waters) but he had to make sure Laboon was truly gone.

Tick tock tick tock

Until then, he must endure and wait patiently.

Tick tock tick tock

A promise was a promise.

Tick tock tick tock

Tick tock

Tick ...