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dethoratsTitle: Photosynthesis
Rating: G
Pairing: none, gen, Brook-centric
Word Count: 584
Spoilers: Through Thriller Bark
The grass was green and alive, the stems all stretching skyward in the direction of the sun. Brook felt like the grass, alive in a way that was as improbable as himself. The ends of his hair stirred in the gentle breeze and he imagined it too was like the grass, soaking up life-giving rays like a thirsty man at a desert oasis. For far too many years he had been trapped in gloom, first by unfortunate circumstance and then by the loss of his shadow. But his fortunes seemed to be changing and his shadow was safely, if thinly - being nothing but the shade of bones yo-ho-ho-ho, following him once more.
There had been little to sustain him in the darkness, nothing but memories and echoes and the faint hope of a promise he had been reborn to keep. He had withered, shriveled away until he was little more than bare essence, the simplest form of the man he had been. The jokes had been a reminder of better times, told to himself in the voices of those who had left him behind, and they were the tenuous roots that kept him from crumbling to dust and blowing away. That time seemed to at last be at an end and Brook, much like Thriller Bark itself, no longer felt like a gross parody of the living.
The Straw Hat pirates had saved him. Luffy-san had saved him with a smile, easy confidence, and the overwhelming offer of nakama. And Sanji-san had saved him with milk and food and hospitality in spite of the fact that Nami-san and Robin-san had also saved him just by existing and not running from him, although a view of their panties would probably help him even more. Doctor-san had saved him, with his marveling and calcium, and Usopp-san had saved him with his stories and tenacity. Franky-san had saved him, with his honesty and with his acceptance. And Zoro-san had saved him, rescuing his shadow and keeping his nakama whole.
He played for a while, notes of beloved songs to bless the cheerful monument that lay before him. They were at peace now, the Rumbar Pirates, and it remained only for him to fulfill their promise. The Straw Hats had renewed that promise, made it anew with him. Something of the old spirit had moved him as they celebrated their victory and it had been nothing but pure joy to become their nakama. Captain Yorkie, and for once the thought of him did not send a dull ache through Brookâs ribs where his heart used to beat, would have liked them. They knew how to play and they knew the costs of sacrifice and they knew what it meant to be true nakama.
White bandages fluttered in the breeze as the last of the Straw Hat pirates to know his new status approached the tomb. Zoro settled next to him, bowing his head over the polished black hilt that now sprouted from the ground. The swordsman was mostly quiet and Brook thought of what he wanted to say and bit down on his nonexistent tongue before he decided he could do no more and no less than to offer his best. And Zoro smiled and said nothing more. They sat in peaceful stillness for a long moment and then Zoro rose to his feet and left as silently as he had arrived. Brook sat a while longer, soaking up the sun above and the green grass below.
Rating: G
Pairing: none, gen, Brook-centric
Word Count: 584
Spoilers: Through Thriller Bark
The grass was green and alive, the stems all stretching skyward in the direction of the sun. Brook felt like the grass, alive in a way that was as improbable as himself. The ends of his hair stirred in the gentle breeze and he imagined it too was like the grass, soaking up life-giving rays like a thirsty man at a desert oasis. For far too many years he had been trapped in gloom, first by unfortunate circumstance and then by the loss of his shadow. But his fortunes seemed to be changing and his shadow was safely, if thinly - being nothing but the shade of bones yo-ho-ho-ho, following him once more.
There had been little to sustain him in the darkness, nothing but memories and echoes and the faint hope of a promise he had been reborn to keep. He had withered, shriveled away until he was little more than bare essence, the simplest form of the man he had been. The jokes had been a reminder of better times, told to himself in the voices of those who had left him behind, and they were the tenuous roots that kept him from crumbling to dust and blowing away. That time seemed to at last be at an end and Brook, much like Thriller Bark itself, no longer felt like a gross parody of the living.
The Straw Hat pirates had saved him. Luffy-san had saved him with a smile, easy confidence, and the overwhelming offer of nakama. And Sanji-san had saved him with milk and food and hospitality in spite of the fact that Nami-san and Robin-san had also saved him just by existing and not running from him, although a view of their panties would probably help him even more. Doctor-san had saved him, with his marveling and calcium, and Usopp-san had saved him with his stories and tenacity. Franky-san had saved him, with his honesty and with his acceptance. And Zoro-san had saved him, rescuing his shadow and keeping his nakama whole.
He played for a while, notes of beloved songs to bless the cheerful monument that lay before him. They were at peace now, the Rumbar Pirates, and it remained only for him to fulfill their promise. The Straw Hats had renewed that promise, made it anew with him. Something of the old spirit had moved him as they celebrated their victory and it had been nothing but pure joy to become their nakama. Captain Yorkie, and for once the thought of him did not send a dull ache through Brookâs ribs where his heart used to beat, would have liked them. They knew how to play and they knew the costs of sacrifice and they knew what it meant to be true nakama.
White bandages fluttered in the breeze as the last of the Straw Hat pirates to know his new status approached the tomb. Zoro settled next to him, bowing his head over the polished black hilt that now sprouted from the ground. The swordsman was mostly quiet and Brook thought of what he wanted to say and bit down on his nonexistent tongue before he decided he could do no more and no less than to offer his best. And Zoro smiled and said nothing more. They sat in peaceful stillness for a long moment and then Zoro rose to his feet and left as silently as he had arrived. Brook sat a while longer, soaking up the sun above and the green grass below.
