I Sell Gacha Jars in One Piece

Deep within Thriller Bark, two figures moved through the darkness at speed, steel meeting steel in sharp, rhythmic exchanges.

The clash of blades rang out across the stone courtyard, and when the final exchange came, the afro-headed skeleton was sent flying, hitting the ground at the base of the castle wall hard enough to rattle his bones.

He coughed, a dry and hollow sound.

"You can't beat me." The figure standing above on the castle wall was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, cradling a dark and unsettling blade across his arms. He looked down at the skeleton below without any particular interest. "We share the same soul. The difference is simply that your body is weaker. That's all this has ever been."

"No." Brook's eyes lit with something cold and unyielding. He pushed himself upright, reached into his cane, and drew the thin blade hidden within. "I have to beat you. For Laboon."

They came together again, faster this time. The sound of it filled the empty courtyard.

Then Brook's sword was knocked from his hand, spinning away across the stones.

The zombie moved in to finish it. Brook's body flickered, vanished into the shadows of the castle, and was gone.

The zombie didn't pursue. It retrieved its blade, turned, and walked back inside without a word. Whatever passed for an expression on its face was entirely absent.

Once he was clear, Brook let himself stop.

"Damn. Still not good enough."

He sat down somewhere dark and quiet, pulled out the violin from inside his skull, and began to play. The opening notes of Binks' Sake drifted out across the fog, soft and mournful.

He'd been challenging Ryuma every day since he'd spoken with Laboon through Amon's Den Den Mushi. Every day, and every day the result was the same. The problem was fundamental. Ryuma carried Brook's own shadow, which meant he carried Brook's own techniques, his muscle memory, his instincts. Everything Brook knew, Ryuma knew. The only variable was physical strength, and on that front the zombie won every time. Brook couldn't find an angle that changed the equation.

He'd lost count of how many attempts this made.

He played, and wept, and wondered whether he should ask Amon to tell Laboon to stop waiting.

"Brook! It really is you!"

The voice came out of nowhere. Brook's playing stopped. He looked up.

Standing in front of him, was Amon

Brook stared for a long moment. "You are... Amon?"

"The same. I heard someone singing and followed it over. Didn't expect it to actually be you."

After entering the dark zone, Amon's group had spent a considerable amount of time wandering through fog and wreckage, finding nothing but the remains of ships that hadn't been lucky. Then, faintly, the sound of someone playing Binks' Sake had drifted through the mist, and Amon had steered toward it without hesitation.

"It really is you," Brook said, and the sadness in his voice shifted into something warmer. "Amon, I can't tell you how grateful I was for what you did. And how happy I am to see you now."

He'd been alone in this place for a very long time. Running into someone he'd actually spoken to before, someone who knew about Laboon, was not a small thing.

"Of course it's me. Though I have to say, you look rough. Several of those bones have cracked."

The marks from the fight with Ryuma were written all over Brook's frame in hairline fractures and fresh damage.

"Ah, well..." Brook's mood deflated slightly. "It's a long story."

Then he straightened up with a philosopher's cheerfulness. "But don't worry about the injuries. A bit of calcium and I'll be right as rain."

Amon stared at him.

"...Calcium."

"Yes! Milk works wonderfully."

Amon decided to leave that alone.

Back aboard the ship, Robin had been watching the whole thing from the deck with open fascination. Amon had told her about Brook before they arrived, and she'd listened with polite skepticism. Now she stepped off the ship for a better look, drawn forward by the simple fact of a talking skeleton playing a violin.

Lily followed, pressed closely against Robin's back, trembling.

She had not forgotten her previous encounter with Brook. She had, in fact, spent some meaningful portion of the voyage hoping this part would somehow be skipped.

"My goodness!" Brook's attention snapped immediately to the two newcomers. He drifted toward them with the rekindled energy of someone who had been starved for company. "Amon, I had no idea your ship carried such lovely ladies! Good day to you both! My name is Brook. Might I ask yours?"

Robin observed him with calm amusement. "You may."

Lily, from behind Robin, produced a barely audible "Lily..."

"Nico Robin and Lily!" Brook clasped his hands together with tremendous feeling. "What beautiful names. They're so lovely I feel my heart could leap right out of my chest." He paused. "Yohohoho... a shame I don't have one."

"Yohohohoho! A skeleton joke!"

He laughed at his own material.

Robin pressed her lips together. "Thank you for the compliment. And your singing voice is genuinely lovely, Mr. Skeleton."

Brook beamed. He was not wrong to be pleased. The voice that would one day make him famous across the entire pirate world was already exactly what it would always be, rich and clear and full of something that reached past the strangeness of its source. That fame was still far off. Right now Brook was simply a lonely skeleton in a fog, and being told his singing was beautiful was more than enough.

"Yohohoho! Thank you, Miss Robin. That truly means the world to me." He leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting into something elaborately casual. "Though I do have one small request, if I might be so bold."

"And what would that be?"

"Might I perhaps... see your underwear?"

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