Chapter Text
“Has anyone seen Brook?”
Robin looked around the breakfast table, but no one offered her an answer, only sleepy shrugs and blank stares.
“Perhaps he’s having a lie in?” Usopp suggested, but Robin shook her head.
“He’s not the type; often, he wakes before I’ve even gone to bed.”
“Yeah, but you stay up until, like, six in the morning,” Usopp said.
Robin inclined her head with a small smile. Usopp wasn’t wrong. When a book was good you finished it before you slept, that was a principle she lived by. Brook had actually been the one to recommend the book to her, so she was very eager to discuss it with him.
Brook would come by later, she supposed. He was probably halfway through a new composition that he wanted to complete first. She wouldn’t interrupt him, though the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the crew. Wherever he’d disappeared to, she hoped he’d found the privacy he clearly sought.
—
The day wore on, yet Brook did not appear. She tried not to show it outwardly, but truthfully, Robin was starting to get a little worried. All of her nakama had long since grown up, and were more than capable of taking care of themselves. However, one small slip would be all it would take for someone to fall overboard - and like herself, Brook could not swim.
She resolved to go looking for him; the Sunny was only so big, so it wouldn’t take her long. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, opening a hundred new ones all over the ship. Years ago, when she had looked through more than one set of eyes at a time, it would give her splitting headaches. She had long since learned how to manage that aspect of her power. Now it was as easy as breathing.
One by one, each eye blinked out of existence in a flurry of pink petals as she assessed what it saw and thankfully found it inconsequential. The last time she had done this had been while searching for a fossil of a rare, extinct beetle Luffy had lost somewhere below deck, and she had seen some things she really hadn’t bargained for. Fortunately, this time everyone was dressed and conducting themselves with dignity.
She finally paused as one of her eyes spotted a figure moving in a storage room below deck. It was small, not Brook sized at all. Nor did it fit any of the others, save perhaps Chopper. But Robin knew for a fact that the little doctor - because he would always be their little doctor in her heart - was on deck painting with Usopp.
It seemed as though she’d have to take matters into her own hands; passive observation was unlikely to yield any further results.
A few more eyes bloomed in the storage room, so that she could observe it from multiple angles. There were no windows, so she could not see particularly well, but she could make out the shape of a very familiar top-hat on its head.
What was this thing, and what had it done with Brook?
Robin didn’t know, but she was going to find out.
She didn’t tell the crew. She knew she ought to, but she wanted to get a chance to see this thing before it was disturbed by the rest of her nakama. She loved them to bits, but they could be just a touch overwhelming at times. If it was malicious, she wanted to have the element of surprise, and if it was benign, then she wanted to be able to study it without interruption.
The passageways below deck never felt gloomy or claustrophobic, despite the low ceilings and narrow walls. It was a testament to Franky’s craftsmanship, and to the quality of the Adam’s wood the Sunny was built with. Even now, after all these years, she could smell the faint fresh scent of the glossy, polished wood. It smelled like home.
Her extra eyes had been keeping watch on the figure crouched in the storage room as she’d made her way down to it. The thing hadn’t moved much, but she had bloomed an ear inside the room too, and could hear it breathing.
She turned the handle and stepped into the room, making sure to keep a good distance between herself and the small figure. The light from the hallway shone through the door she had left open - it wasn’t ideal to leave the door open, but she’d rather have light, and a quick exit for herself if necessary. She could always sprout some arms and restrain the thing if it tried to run.
The light revealed the truth. Upon closer inspection, the thing resolved itself to be a child - one wearing Brook’s top-hat. He couldn’t have been older than ten, at most.
The child looked up at her with wide eyes.
“Hello miss, I think I’m lost.”
Robin took another look at the young boy, who was wearing clothes that were entirely too big. They were bright and garish, covered in clashing patterns, much like something Brook would wear. In fact, it was exactly like something Brook would wear. The child had the same distinctive afro as he did, too. A sneaking suspicion formed in her mind.
“Could you tell me your name, please?” she asked gently.
The boy nodded. “Brook.”
She hummed. “I thought as much. My name is Nico Robin, would you like to come with me?”
The boy, who was apparently the child version of their skeletal musician, shrugged.
She had no idea how this child had come to be, and how Brook’s first death had seemingly been reversed. Her mind was brimming with questions, but she pushed those aside for the moment, focusing on the child in front of her. He would be scared in an unfamiliar place all alone.
She knew that feeling all too well.
Young Brook stood up and nearly tripped over the ends of the too-long trousers he had on. Before she had even really thought about doing it, she sprouted two pairs of arms from the ground and deftly rolled up the trousers until the boy could walk without incident.
For his part, Brook watched her sprout limbs from the ground with well-disguised shock. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and kept quiet.
“My Devil Fruit,” she explained, “the Hana Hana No Mi, allows me to grow my limbs like flowers.”
She offered her hand to him - the real one attached to her torso. “Come on, it’s quite a big ship and it’s easy to get lost. I’d like to introduce you to the Captain.”
The child-Brook took it after a moment’s hesitation, and she couldn’t help but think how odd it was to be touching Brook’s skin. She had held Brook’s hands many times over the years, and always it had been the smooth, solid feeling of bones against her skin. This was novel for her, and while not unpleasant, it did not feel quite right.
Perhaps it was because this Brook did not know her. It was clear he had lost his memories of her, and by extension the rest of the crew as well. There was no familiarity between them, no shared history, no sleepless nights spent in each other’s quiet company. Just a timid boy holding her hand a little too tightly.
As they headed for the deck of the Sunny she sought to reassure the boy. He hadn’t said anything since he gave her his name, after all.
“Do you know where you are, Brook?”
The child thought for a moment before responding, “A ship?”
Robin nodded. “The Thousand Sunny, and if you are who I think you are, you’ve been travelling on this ship with us for a number of years.”
“Who do you think I am?” the child asked.
“One of our nakama.”
Young Brook didn't seem to know what to make of that, and didn't say anything further. He was too busy looking around in awe, as Robin led him to the main deck. He really was a very cute child, Robin thought, and she would most definitely tease Brook about this once they got him back to normal - because they would get him back to normal.
Stranger things had happened, after all, and they always managed to pull through.
—
Child-Brook sat on the Sunny's deck, absentmindedly running his hands through the blades of grass. The rest of the crew had gathered too, though Brook was not making eye contact with any of them. However, he was sneaking glances whenever he thought he could, then quickly looking away every time one of them caught his eye.
The Brook Robin knew had no qualms being the centre of attention, or commanding an audience with his presence, charisma, and music. This younger version, by contrast, was quite eager to stay out of the spotlight, and shied away from any attention. She wondered what had changed. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood Brook had found confidence, decorum, and a joyful disposition. Seeing him before all of that was disconcerting to say the least.
Her musings were interrupted by her captain, who crouched down next to Brook and leant forward, balancing on his hands until he was inches from Brook’s face.
“Are you really him?” Luffy asked.
“I don’t know.” Brook paused for a moment before continuing, “Miss Robin thinks I am, but I don’t know who she’s talking about.”
“She’s talking about you, silly! In the future! You’re like, ninety!”
“Ninety-five,” Robin corrected absentmindedly.
“But I’m only nine,” Brook said. “Do I really grow up to be as old as that?”
Luffy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! You’re a badass skeleton musician with a super cool sword hidden inside a cane!”
Brook shot a frantic look at Robin, begging for clarification.
“What our captain means is that, technically, you died at thirty-eight, but because you had eaten the Yomi Yomi No Mi, your soul was able to return to your body, albeit later than would have been expected. You continued to live as a skeleton after that, and are likely to keep living indefinitely, unless you drown.”
“Robin,” Usopp hissed, “you can’t just say stuff so bluntly to a kid.”
“I’m immortal?” Brook asked.
“As far as we know, yes,” she said.
“Cool!” Brook grinned. “I can’t die!”
“You still gotta be careful, little buddy. Adult you can’t die, but we don’t know about little you,” Franky said, in a more serious tone than he usually spoke.
Brook nodded solemnly and promised he would be. He looked around the ship more boldly now, and Robin could tell when his eyes spied their jolly roger because they went wide with shock.
“We’re pirates?” he whispered.
Luffy laughed loudly. “Of course! I’m King of the Pirates!”
A little flower bloomed in Robin’s heart. She never got tired of hearing Luffy say that, and she knew she never would. There was a bouquet in her chest that never wilted, these days.
“What does that mean?” Brook asked, bemused.
Luffy blinked at him, and Robin stifled a giggle. Of course, Brook had been born long before Gol D. Roger - had died before him too. Child Brook would have no idea who Roger was.
“It means we found the One Piece!” Luffy whooped. The pride in his voice was audible, and everyone on deck stood a little straighter after his declaration.
Even now, after almost half a decade, he still couldn’t control his enthusiasm about their success. She hoped he never would; it was endearing. It made her proud, and she could tell the rest of the crew felt the same. Franky’s chest was puffed out, with his signature grin on his face, and Usopp was standing taller - though he often did, these days. It had been a long time since he tried to blend in and hide at the back of a crowd. In fact, the whole crew walked with their heads held high, as they ought.
Luffy’s words were not an explanation by any means, and Brook clearly still did not know what the One Piece was or why it was so significant. She would explain it to him later, once they figured out exactly what had happened to him.
The discussion went on for quite some time after that. Nami pointed out that while it was all well and good that Brook had been found, they needed to find a way to get him back to his old self. He’d be vulnerable in a fight, and while they could protect him, they also missed him.
An entire crew meeting had passed without a single skull joke or skeleton pun, without a goofy yo-ho-ho laugh, without a melody unconsciously hummed. Brook’s absence was stark.
It was decided that Sanji and Usopp would search through both Brook’s things, as well as the storage room where Robin had found him, to see if there were any clues about how he had ended up like this. Robin took Nami and Jimbei with her to consult her library. The rest of them would keep the ship sailing smoothly in the meantime, save for Chopper, who asked Brook to accompany him to his doctor's office.
—
Brook was sitting in the shade of some tangerine trees after being let out of the reindeer-doctor’s office. He couldn’t help but think what a bizarre ship this was - what kind of ship had a grove of trees on deck - and so he had gone to investigate them. He had also wanted some peace and quiet after everything that had happened that morning.
Everyone on this ship was very loud, and he was not used to it at all. His parents maintained a strict and orderly household, and he’d never experienced an environment quite like this.
At least Doctor Chopper had been nice. His office aboard the ship was quiet, and the doctor’s voice was soft. He had asked a lot of confusing questions though. Brook had tried his best to answer them, but he could tell they weren't the answers Doctor Chopper had wanted to hear.
The doctor had been kind and let him leave after just over an hour. Brook had tried to hide it but he had been getting very bored - he’d never been out at sea before and he wanted to be outside so he could see the ocean. That’s how he found himself on the upper deck among the tangerine trees, watching the waves from between the leaves.
He’d been there for a little while, when one of the crew approached him - it was the tall one with the bright blue hair and metal hands. He so dearly wanted to ask the man questions about his metal body, but according to his parents those kinds of questions were rude, and not the sort of thing you should ask strangers. Apparently though, this man wasn’t a stranger - they were crew. Brook just couldn’t remember.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” Brook said.
“Not to worry little bro, I’m Frrrrranky!” he said with a flourish, as he posed with both his forearms held together above his head at an angle.
“Hi Frrrrranky!” Brook repeated, trying his best to get the accent right. He didn’t want to mispronounce the man’s name.
Frrrrranky grinned at him. His smile reached all the way to the corners of his eyes where crow’s feet gathered. His parents never smiled like that. Brook found he liked Frrrrranky’s way of smiling much better.
“You got it little bro. Now, I got something for you,”Frrrrranky said, sat down next to him among the tangerine trees - and opened a compartment in his stomach.
Brook blinked in shock.
“Is- is it supposed to do that?” he asked, concern overtaking propriety about invasive questions.
“Yep, I made it that way on purpose - more storage! Comes in real handy more often than you’d expect. You should know, you keep things in your noggin’ when you’re older.”
“My what?”
“Nevermind,” Frrrrranky said with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, here’s what I came to give you.”
He held out a beautiful violin that was sized perfectly for Brook. The wood was a deep purple colour and the white strings gleamed against it in the sunshine. It was the work of a master craftsman, and it was being offered to him.
“For me?” Brook asked in awe.
Frrrrranky nodded. He looked like he was about to cry.
“Thank you, Frrrrranky!” Brook said as he held the violin reverently. It was perfect.
Frrrrranky laughed. “You don’t have to roll the R every time, little bro, everyone else just says Franky.”
Brook laughed with him. “It’s fun!”
“Well, give it a go,” Franky encouraged him, gesturing at the violin.
Brook got up with a nod and began to play. He held the matching bow in one hand and the beautiful violin in the other. It fitted just right against his chin and the music came to him easily; a piece he had practised for hours until he had perfected it. A slow, classical tune floated through the air from his violin and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his music in time with his breathing.
“Little bro, is that really the song you want to play?” Franky asked.
Brook wasn’t sure what he meant by that - what else would he play? Franky must have noticed the confusion plain on his face because he elaborated, “Here, I’ll sing something, and you make up a tune for it, okay?”
He’d never done that before - he’d only ever played from sheet music his parents had given him. Proper melodies meant for concert halls and grand events. He was nervous to improvise a piece, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want to betray Franky’s kindness and refuse him. He’d simply have to do his best.
Franky began to sing. The words were jovial and the tune was upbeat, more than anything he’d ever played before. It reminded him of the snatches of songs he’d overheard at the marketplace or down by the docks on the few occasions he’d been allowed to visit. His parents had considered those kinds of places to be bad influences, and he’d never been allowed to linger there for long.
It took him a moment to find the rhythm, but soon his playing was keeping time with Franky’s lyrics and they were smiling together as they made music. He could hear the voices of the other crew members drifting up to them, too - as they sang along. It made sense that they’d all know the song. He wondered if he knew it too, as an adult. Perhaps he even wrote it! Now that was a thought.
When the song finished, Franky was beaming at him, his smile impossibly wider than before. “Now that’s how you play a violin!” he cheered.
Brook nodded enthusiastically. He had known music could be beautiful, but he hadn’t realised it could be this much fun.
—
Sanji and Usopp found nothing in their search, which had expanded to the entire ship after their initial hunt for answers bore no fruit. Chopper’s examination of Brook also revealed very little. He was able to confirm that it was indeed Brook, and Brook was just as he existed as a child - without a Devil Fruit. This raised more questions than it answered - did Brook’s Devil Fruit still exist? Was it back out in the world now that this Brook hadn’t eaten it yet? Or was it just wherever adult-Brook was?
So, Robin’s team kept at it. All evening they poured over books, cross-referencing them with other books. This sort of thing could be done with a Devil Fruit of course, but Bonney still had that power, and they’d know if she were close by. Besides, Brook had amnesia as well. As far as Robin knew, Bonney couldn’t cause that.
“Let’s go over everything we did today and yesterday - see if we can come up with anything out of the ordinary,” Nami suggested. She leant back from the book she had been hunched over, popping her spine audibly.
They had all been deep in focus, but they were getting nowhere with research like this. A discussion break would be welcome.
“A very good idea,” Jimbei said, “let’s each of us recount our versions of the day. I will transcribe them.” He was a remarkably fast writer, and Robin wondered if he used his command over water to make the ink move as he wished. She certainly would, if she were him.
Nami went first, detailing everything she had done. It involved a large quantity of shopping, a little of stepping on a man's foot on purpose because he had been too forward, as well as a brief break in a spa and signing some autographs for starry-eyed admirers.
Robin hadn’t realised there was a spa on that island or she would have gone as well - Nami’s ability to seek out luxury continued to astound her even now.
“Is that everything that you did yesterday?” Jimbei asked, noting down Nami’s last sentence with a flourish.
“I think so. Oh, I remember being so annoyed that I got bit by a mosquito right after I left the spa - I was so relaxed and calm and then a stupid gross bug had to ruin it,” she grouched.
Come to think of it, Robin had also been bitten by a mosquito. That was no surprise though. The island had been a spring island in its spring season, and mosquitos were commonplace for that time of year. The island was famed for its complex network of criss-crossing rivers that all fed into one another. With so much fresh water it was no wonder the island had such an abundance of bugs.
She said as much, and then asked Jimbei if he had also been bitten.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, huffing a laugh, “my skin is so thick I don’t feel anything sting. Except jellyfish, those hurt like you wouldn’t believe.”
Every now and again Jimbei said something that made her stop and think. They had so much in common, but had lived such different lives just because of where they had grown up. She also wondered what it would be like to be stung by a jellyfish. Painful, of course, but in what way? She would have to ask Jimbei later, right now they had more pressing matters to consider.
“You think it has something to do with mosquitos?” Nami asked Robin.
She shook her head. “How could it? Brook has no skin to bite.”
“Huh, I didn’t think of that. It is weird to see Brook with skin now, isn’t it?” Nami mused.
Robin and Jimbei nodded. Their old friend had been eternal and unchanging for so long - seeing him as a youth in his flesh and blood was still a little disconcerting.
Jimbei went next, recounting his day, followed by Robin telling hers. None of them had done or seen anything that particularly stood out that day.
Not long after, Nami and Jimbei turned in for the night, while Robin remained in the library. There had to be an explanation for what had happened to Brook, and she was going to find it.