Brook wiped his shades and gaped at the poster tacked by all the bounty flyers on the wall outside his living quarters, hardly believing his eyes.
WANTED
Definitely Alive
The Rumbar Pirates are recruiting! If you enjoy music, merry-making and adventure, and don't mind chores, seasickness and mortal peril, come help us take our act to the Grand Line!
MUSIC IS POWER. MUSIC IS LIFE.
...
A pirate crew. For music lovers.
An escape. Freedom.
Brook remembered to breathe.
"Oi, Brook, quit daydreaming and get your ass on stage!" called his manager from inside the nearby auditorium. "We've got a big spender tonight."
It took a little while for the words to register.
"I ain't paying ya to stare at wanted posters all day, Brook! Besides, customers will get the wrong idea!" He stepped out and beckoned. "C'mon, it's show time!"
And so, like every other night, Brook's dreams were dashed by his dreary duty to play violin for snobbish ingrates, who jeered only because he could only afford that foppish jacket. The kind who were much too secure in their own affluence and had come to equate cost with worth. People who would spit on a vagrant who played soulfully but gave standing ovations to some concert pianist who belts out the same damn rag everybody's already heard a thousand times. But Brook needed to earn wages as low-profile as possible ever since he fled the service of his home country's military, and so he swallowed his pride and bowed, hanging his head with proper deference as the curtains lifted.
The poster has to be some cruel prank, he thought. Hope was dead.
"Good evening, honored guests. Tonight's first piece is entitled-"
He paused. Where were the scoffs, the immediate dismissal? Instead he was met with patient and respectful silence. Brook braved a premature peak above the rim of his glasses, squinting into starkly lit stands. What he saw triggered a double take of comical proportions.
"EH~ Only one person!"
"Got a problem with that?" The man's face was obscured by a cowboy hat, and his legs were crossed.
"N-no, not at all!" said Brook hastily. "You... you don't happen to be a... a pirate? I was just wondering because I saw a poster backstage, and-"
"Yep, flyer's mine all right. I'm holding auditions all over West Blue. At this rate my loot'll be depleted in no time, but in order to appraise fairly, I need to listen without interference."
"So you bought up every seat! This is remarkable!"
"If I like your music, I'll invite you onto my crew. If you don't want to, that's fine too."
"What! What is this!"
Yorki pulled a pistol and fired at the manager's feet. "No interference."
The little weasel of a manager scurried back behind the curtains and whimpered.
Brook was suitably impressed, to say the least. "YES! I, I I I'd LOVE to join your crew!"
"Excellent!" The pirate tipped his hat up and smirked. "Now play! From the very bottom of your heart, or I'm out of here."
Brook tasted salt as his tears flowed down to his own mile-wide grin. He slid the bow to the strings and unconsciously began humming.
Yorki's world shimmered with notes of harmony, of relief, tender yet forceful, as the emotions of an emancipated man. The pirate's heart bounced to the beat of Brook's ballad. He felt blessed. This was the triumphant call to liberty of expression he vowed to spread across the oceans.
It was a night music would never forget.
"Oi, Brook, check out the latest spoils!"
"Captain!" The Lumbar Pirates first mate stood at attention.
"Sengoku tried to send another spy cruiser after us," started Yorki, "but Laboon tipped us off and we were able to take it down before the lousy dogs had a chance to counterattack!"
"Laboon!" Brook beamed affectionately. The tiny whale chirped.
"And guess what came bobbing up from the wreckage..."
"Wha—a Devil Fruit!" Brook had only seen them in children's books and encyclopedias. "So are you going to sell it or eat it?"
"It depends; I don't know what this thing does," replied Yorki. "And I don't think we have any reference books on board. It can't be all that powerful if Sengoku hasn't eaten it already. Or maybe he didn't even know he had one. In any case, let's run ashore so we can visit a specialist. I'll leave the fruit in your care until then."
"Roger that, captain," said Brook, who polished the fruit on his jacket and shoved it into his pocket. Then he leant over the side of the ship and smiled as some impromptu opus reverberated from belowdecks. Brook recalled what Yorki had told him on docks the day of his recruitment:
"Brook, have you ever heard of the Voice of All Things?"
"I'm afraid not, Captain. Is that the name of a new opera?"
"No. It's the name of the power that lies within the bones of every musician. It is our weapon, our pride, and our rapture. And so long as the desire to hear it burns in my heart, I'm absolutely certain that the world will yield us delights we scarcely could have imagined. By accepting my invitation to become a Lumbar Pirate, you dedicate your life to the pursuit of the Voice of All Things. It is my dream to reproduce it in its fullness. Here, let me give you an example." Yorki whipped out his violin and played a piece so moving Brook couldn't help but bawl.
"W-what was that wonderful tune called?" sniffed Brook, lifting his shades and taking a handkerchief to his eyes.
"It's not called anything. I just listened to the crash of the waves, and the music came on its own."
"Laboon…" Brook called out to the waves. "I think I want to listen to your whistle for the rest of my life. If only I had more than one life to live!"
The baby whale breached the waves and cooed.
Yorki and Brook nearly choked on the stench of the fortune teller's stuffy incense-thick corner boutique.
"My third eye has been anticipating you for quite some time," she started ominously as she upended the hourglass on the table before her.
"What do you charge?" Yorki's first order of business. "I don't to intend on spending all our loot chasing wild rumors."
"Destiny has brought you poor souls to me, I charge nothing. The only price of today's consultation will be your very peace of mind!" She drew her hand to her forehead and rolled back her eyes. "Yes, sit, sit, I see now what troubles you. It is none other than the tainted fruit of the Sea Devil himself, come to visit misfortune upon your travels!"
"Yohohoho!" said Brook, and took the Fruit out of his jacket packet.
Yorki said "I heard you're quite famous around this stretch of West Blue for your knowledge of Devil Fruits. It's not exactly implausible that two obvious pirates would be seeking your help on the matter."
"Fools! You doubt my psychic talent?"
Brook coughed and surreptitiously shot a pleading glance at his captain. He himself had been raised in circuses and fairs until they were denounced and outlawed as piratic breeding grounds, and he knew far too well the various tricks so-called psychics and fortune-tellers employed in their business. Nevertheless, he also understood that many "psychics" were self-deluded and had indeed researched much on the occult, whose purview would of course include Devil Fruits. It was the best lead they had. For now they would just have to go with it. Yorki begrudgingly took a seat across the medium and tented his fingers dramatically. "Carry on."
"Mortal flippancy towards the cosmic Eye is not tolerated in this boutique! Your hubris will engender misery and defeat as surely as the Sea Devil's curse!"
"Yeah, yeah, it's cursed, but what does it do?"
"Hand it over and I shall inspect!"
But Brook was savvy and kept it out of reach. "Surely your gift is sufficient to inform us?"
"...You are correct. At times even I who am steeped in protection against the dark arts must be wary of temptation!" A subtle flash of frustration came over her features but soon she was spinning her hands over her luminous crystal orb, almost as to attract attention away from herself. "The aether is congealing... the mists of fate churn and churn within the orb... Could it be?"
A theatrical heave.
"The evilest fruit of all—The Fruit of Resurrection!"
Brook and Yorki instantly looked at each other, then back at her and said in unison, "The fruit of resurrection?"
"You must not even think of ingesting such, such evil! For though he who partakes of this insipid persimmon will live two lives, both lives could scarcely be starker! Solitude and despair will be your only companions, and you will beg for a death that cannot come! Curse below curses!"
"It grants a second life?" Yorki stroked his chin and mulled it over.
Brook's reaction was more visceral. He was not keen on letting an even larger proportion of his life become characterized by hopelessness and friendlessness. "Captain, I don't think-"
"Hold on," said Yorki, rapt with concentration. It seemed as though while he was lost in thought he picked up on something. "There's somebody behind that curtain out back. I can hear his heartbeat, faintly."
"EH!" said Brook. "Is this true?"
The medium's silence implicated her. She was frozen.
"An accomplice. She just wanted to get her hands on the Fruit quick and painless. I surmised as much," smiled Yorki, thoroughly pleased with his own cleverness. He walked past the medium to the curtain and stood poised to reveal her treachery. "You're dealing with pirates now!" he proclaimed proudly. "And we're not dumb enough to fall for-"
"That so?" deadpanned Garp the Hero, picking his ear with his eyes on the Fruit.
At 21 Garp had already earned a reputation for badassery and he was already built like a brickhouse, in stark contrast to the 38-year-old Brook's slender violinist's gait.
Yorki's jaw dropped, but he regained composure as the situation became clearer.
"You bastards were in on this all along! You knew when we picked up the Fruit we'd come here, and you set up an ambush!"
"No!" said the fortune-teller. "They told me they needed my help to dispose of the evil, that you dumb pirates didn't know what you were doing..."
Yorki's eyes narrowed. "You didn't let us take the Fruit, you couldn't have, it would have been much too valuable, considering its effect... And who would want life extension more than anybody?"
"Tenryuubito," Brook realized with horror. So many of his childhood friends who performed at the fairs had been rounded up for the slave trade.
"That wasn't a spy cruiser at all, you were just trying to get the fruit over to Mariejois unnoticed. Unfortunately for you, we had Laboon on our side! If you think we'd let those vile pigs get a hold of this then you're underestimating us!"
"Dammit, Garp, I said we needed to take them down as quietly as possible!" A young Sengoku too emerged with a DON. "We don't know how dangerous this could get. Were you snoring again!"
His superior whacked him and Garp's Marine cap spun back.
"I swear I wasn't, his hearing is just that good!" Garp smarted.
"We have intel that every single one of your raids on Marine bases was accompanied by strange aural attacks and blasting music," Sengoku addressed the two pirates in the room. "If not a Devil Fruit power, then what on earth is it?"
"It's just a tiny fraction of the power of music!" said Yorki. "Not that your ilk would ever understand."
"Garp, new plan. We take the fruit by force and drag these two in for interrogation—no matter what. The World Government will reimburse you for your trouble, madame."
Sengoku put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The medium squeaked. But her gaze was still on the Fruit, which Brook had already drawn his sword to protect.
"You must not! Better Impel Down than the fruit!" she wailed.
Garp cracked his knuckles and started on Brook. "If you come quietly we'll commute your sentence."
"And abandon my captain? Never!" Brook held his ground but he was sweating bullets. This was a worst case scenario.
Yorki attempted to intercept but Sengoku stopped him. "Should you really take your attention off me?"
"Brook!"
"It's okay, captain," he gulped. "I won't let them take the fruit—even hell is better than the knowledge I let a Celestial Dragon live twice as long!"
"You've got guts, mister" Garp looked up at his opponent with measured admiration. "I'm surprised you chose the pirate's life. You'd make a mighty fine Marine."
"I used to captain an escort convoy. It was one of the most distressing periods of my life. I excelled at swordsmanship but my heart languished without music and freedom. The only reason they conscripted me in the first place was because of my height, and by the time I'd risen up the ranks, almost inadvertently, I'd become too much of an oddity and the orders came down to strip my idiosyncrasies one by one. I finally fled when they decided to shave my beautiful afro!" Brook sniffed. "I won't let the World Government have its way!" he determined with a DON.
Sengoku took off his cap and revealed his own bountiful afro.
"EH!"
"The Marines are more eclectic than the private military of some backwoods island," he stated calmly. "And I won't let you besmirch the legacy of peace ushered by the very World Government you disdain." He tossed the cap aside. "Enough talk. We fight like men. Madame, please leave."
She did as she was told and ran out of her shop at top speed.
"If you so much as touch a hair on my nakama's head then-"
Garp was too quick; he ducked under Brook's guard and delivered a punishing blow to the musician's abdomen, knocking him into the wall and toppling over the shack's assorted vials of incense and curio jars. Yorki stumbled over the table with the orb after him, but was intercepted.
"What did I tell you?" chided Sengoku, clobbering Yorki with his Buddha karate chop. "You don't even have your instruments on you. You're defenseless, facing a Vice Admiral. And yet you still insist on looking away from me. You're not as clever as you think you are, pirate!"
Sengoku rolled up his sleeve with a DON.
"Dammit! Brook, hang in there!"
Brook's sword clattered to the corner. Garp had him by the lapel. "Huh? Where's the fruit?"
Brook merely smiled and spat blood on Garp's face.
Garp, incensed, retaliated with a devastating hook to the face. Brook's glasses shattered from the impact. He crumpled in a bloody heap.
Yorki couldn't hear him breathe.
Time rolled to a halt.
His rage outraced his despair.
Yorki knew the Voice of All Things to be a celebration of life. He didn't know it could be summoned by death.
His cry of anguish strained as by some magic filter into a stentorian howl ineffable by humanity. Peals of tremendous wrath clapped and shook the shack with increasing intensity as Yorki let the cosmic clarion consume him. The Voice surged madly through him as though he himself were some unwary woodwind, and the island's inhabitants all stopped dead in their tracks to listen with horror. The sound and the fury boomed across his horizons, radiating chaos.
The little shack was reduced to splinters. Sengoku and Garp were blown into the sky before they knew it.
Yorki's episode ceased. He fell to his knees, hoarse and drained. His vision swam.
Brook lay motionless. He had been spared.
Yorki crawled towards his first mate, weeping. At least Brook would have a proper burial.
"Oh Brook," he cradled him in his arms.
"Yes?" he finally breathed, and broke out in a huge grin.
"AAH!" Yorki dropped him in surprise, eliciting a harsh gasp of pain from Brook.
"What are you trying to do, kill me again?" joked Brook.
"You don't mean... You ate it?"
"I was lucky. I was planning to die and then play possum while I revived. But it seems that Garp fellow took mercy on me! Yohohohohohahack!"
"You idiot, what would you have done then!"
"Searched for you. Sought your rescue. Night and day," he said simply.
"But the curse! Endless loneliness... intolerable darkness..."
"All worth it for my captain!" he chuckled. Bloodily.
"Oh Brook," he repeated, this time mixed with amusement and alarm. "What am I going to do with you?"
"We have another lifetime to figure it out."
And so he fainted.
"Wow, you were so brave!" said Chopper.
"And manly!" Franky bawled.
"Your crew blew my jicchan away!" Luffy was always wont to laugh, but at this he was positively clutching his sides and clapping his sandals. "And he's always bragging too! Next time we meet, I'll... OH!" Luffy succumbed to another fit of giggling. "You two have got to see each other again!" he concluded.
"Careful, Luffy, you'll knock the table over." Sanji served up another stack of succulent filets, which Brook and Luffy claimed immediately.
"Mmmrrpmphsmmhmm," Luffy intimated.
"Ah, but I doubt Garp would recognize me, after all my shadow is very thin*! In fact I don't have a shadow at all, SKULL JOKE!"
"...Oh wait, I do have a shadow," he realized.
"Isn't that missing the point?" said Nami, faintly exasperated. "I doubt the Marines are expecting you back as a skeleton!."
"Jicchan saw something in you. It's why he didn't kill you!" Luffy said with a cheeriness that belied the scariness of having such a man as a grandpa. "Don't worry, if he's forgotten I'll reintroduce you, shishishishishi."
"What happened after you defeated them?" Usopp wondered. "Did they attack your ship?"
"We managed to escape before they could gather their wits about them," he recalled. "My captain carried me all the way to the pier where our ship was docked before he himself collapsed. When we came to, our nakama were engaged in drinking contests over our bodies, determined to let whatever alcohol sloshed over their mugs anesthetize our wounds. We didn't have a doctor yet, you see, and one of the rules of our charter encouraged us to make merry out of grave situations."
"That's really dangerous!" vented Chopper. "You guys should have canvassed for a medic as soon as possible!"
"Oh relax, Chopper, I've got an idea," Usopp mused with a devilish grin. He scurried belowdecks and emerged with a large oaken keg of rum hoisted precariously over his shoulder. "How about a second baptism for your second life with your second crew?"
"If rum's not healthy than nothing is," Zoro offered, arms crossed and smiling.
"YEAH!" Luffy enthused.
"You'll get the floor all-" Nami started, but even Franky joined in with Luffy and Usopp, dumping the keg all over Brook. Robin tittered and Nami sighed resignedly.
"And I'm going to have to be the one who cleans this up," Sanji carped.
Zoro sniggered. Sanji called him a shitty marimo and they lunged at each other's throats in as many as five milliseconds, so they were clearly more relaxed than usual.
It was times like these that Brook truly blessed the fact he was alive.
And Luffy was his light.
The mists of the Florian Triangle swirled about the rudderless ship. Darkness enshrouded everything the raggedy skeleton cherished.
Brook had finally mastered the final instrument his nakama bequeathed him. Fourteen years of solitude, wrapped only with remembrance of his fallen friends.
This was hell. Hope was dead.
He couldn't sleep, not even to dive back into pleasant dreams of his former life as he had for over a decade now. The sense of finality, that came with having at last learned every single piece of music his crew used to play, was too complete.
Brook recalled for the thousandth time how Yorki used to play him lullabies on stormy nights. Back then Yorki had been the light to his darkness, his beacon and his nightlight.
Now there was no light at all.
Notes:
*Japanese idiom. Kage ga usui, or "thin shadow," means you're often overlooked.