Work Text:
Brook liked to think he was a patient man. He’d waited fifty years in the Florian Triangle, after all. So, he certainly felt he had the credentials for it.
You’d think after so long on his own he would be a champion of patience. But if anything, he just felt worse off than before the Florian Triangle.
Being alone could almost physically hurt sometimes. Spending too long without hearing or seeing his friends would end with him getting lost in his thoughts.
Some days were easier than others. Some days it felt like he couldn’t stay present for the life of him.
Brook would like to be a patient man, though. The situation he had found himself in would certainly be much easier if he was.
The fridge where Sanji kept the meat and other perishables had broken. Normally, this would be fine. Franky could fix all things after all.
Unfortunately, Franky was out of commission as well. Even cyborgs were susceptible to illness, it seemed. Chopper had assured Franky would be fine, but not before the things in the fridge had spoiled.
Sanji had about had a meltdown. Franky had wanted to help but been too sick to do so. (Besides, even with the circumstances Sanji wouldn’t have let him so near the food as sick as he was.)
The crew had tried to reassure Sanji, but the next island was days away. There was no way of keeping the food cold until they could get their hands on something that would help.
(They tried to point out to Sanji that even if the perishables spoiled, they had enough other foods to make it to the next island. This had only gotten Sanji spiraling about how they wouldn’t if there was some great disaster like a shipwreck. Besides, the thought of so much wasted food in the first place was enough to have Sanji pulling at his hair.)
It was around that point that Brook had remembered he could create ice. Thus, a plan had been formed.
Brook would put a layer of ice within the fridge (but not too much Sanji had warned. He didn’t want anything to get freezer burnt) and then stay in the fridge to keep everything from melting. This would be the way of the world until Franky got better or they landed on an island. Nami had said it would be eight days at the most.
It was day two and Brook was already losing his mind.
“Three-four to six-eight? Why…?”Brook groaned and tore his gaze from the page he’d been working on. He glanced at the temperature thermometer Sanji had thrown in with him.
“Still in the right range, that’s good,” Brook mumbled to himself. He rolled his shoulders and readjusted the blanket around them (there at Luffy’s insistence), then forced his gaze back to the papers in front of him.
Brook was working on a project in an attempt to keep his mind present.
In the past, Brook had spent a lot of time with his mind untethered from reality. It was easier to stay present with the Straw Hats than it had been in the Florian Triangle, but it was still something Brook commonly struggled with nonetheless. But struggling with it now, when Sanji was depending on him? Not an option.
That didn’t make it easy, though. Unfortunately, determination was not enough to keep him focused. It would help a lot if one of the Straw Hat’s would sit in the fridge with him, but Brook imagined Sanji wouldn’t appreciate the fridge being opened more than necessary; even if Brook could easily make up for any cold air that was lost. Besides, with the freezing temperatures and cramped space it certainly wouldn’t be a pleasant experience.
Hence the project in an effort to stay present.
An ‘effort’ because, as it was, the semidarkness lit by a lamp and lack of Straw Hat chatter were actively working against Brook’s focus. The excruciatingly boring project wasn’t much help against such factors.
Brook groaned, putting his face in a hand. “Not the time signa- why? Why would anyone write this? It’s horrible-”
“Write what?”
Brook’s head snapped up so fast he was surprised it didn’t fly off. “Zoro? What are you doing here?”
Zoro shut the fridge door with a click. “Hiding from curly-brows. He’s gone completely insane.” Zoro settled on the ground opposite Brook; there wasn’t much space to sit anywhere else. “Luffy’s trying to take care of it, but it hasn’t been going well. Figured the one place I could get away from him was here since he doesn’t want to let the cold air out.”
That was true. Brook was very thankful Sanji had let the fridge be opened a few times already. Robin had spent some of her morning with Brook, and Sanji had let Brook go to the bathroom. Brook didn’t leave for meals, but that was because he could practically feel Sanji’s stress anytime he left the fridge. Much better to let Sanji deliver food to Brook instead. (Not that Brook needed to eat, but he couldn’t bring himself to try and convince Sanji not to feed him when Sanji was already so stressed.)
“I’m very happy for the company! Are you sure you won’t get too cold, though?” Brook pulled at his soul as he was talking, effectively lowering the temperature of the room. Though very welcome, Zoro’s appearance had let some cold air out of the fridge.
“Nah, it’s not bad.” Zoro waved a hand and leaned back against a shelf.
Ah, right. Zoro doesn’t tend to mind cold temperatures, I forgot. It was hard to remember temperature preferences when Brook couldn’t really feel the difference. He liked to wear a coat when the crew did to fit in, but the temperature actually didn’t affect him much at all. (Humidity, though, he could tell. It was impossible not to when it made his hair so frizzy.)
Even if Zoro didn’t mind, Brook hated the thought of him getting sick because of the cold. (And, in true Zoro fashion, he had not entered the fridge with a coat.) Brook lacked temperature sensitivity, but even he had a blanket. The blanket was completely unnecessary, but Brook thought it was cute that Luffy had- “Oh!”
Brook took the blanket from around his shoulders and held it out to Zoro. “Would you take this even though you aren’t cold? Just to make me feel better? I don’t want to see you get sick.”
Zoro judged the blanket with a harsh eye before giving in with a sigh. “Fine.” Zoro took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders.
“Thank you,” Brook breathed a sigh of relief.
Zoro gave a grunt and shrugged. “Chopper’s got enough on his plate. Don’t need him chewing me out.” His mouth set in a line. “Which means I can’t take a nap... Guess anything’s better than being out there, though.”
“Goodness, Sanji’s doing that bad?” Brook hated that. He was glad he could do something to help. (Even if his helping was horrible and boring…)
“Eh,” Zoro shrugged, “he’ll be fine. Luffy’s working on it.” Zoro switched tracks, nodding at the papers in front of Brook. “What’s this?”
Oh, right. The project. “I’m working on arranging this into something more easily readable,” Brook sighed.
Zoro raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. Or possibly just readjusting. “Is it readable at all right now?”
Brook couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hardly,” he said. “The composer wrote it as if he hates himself. The time signature and key signature change far too often and for seemingly no reason. Tweaks to the sheet music would make things much clearer.”
“And… this is sheet music?”
Ah, right. Zoro wouldn’t know how to read music, would he? “Yes.” Brook smiled, turning one of the papers so that Zoro wouldn’t be looking at it upside down. “This is sheet music. It tells you which notes to play and when.”
Zoro frowned. “There’s barely any words. It’s mostly lines and symbols.”
It was an observation, not a question. Zoro certainly wasn’t asking how to read music.
But Brook was very tired of his chosen project. And he might have gotten just a bit excited at the prospect of explaining how to read music to Zoro.
Just a little bit.
After explaining how a note’s placement on the staff determined which note letter to play and touching on the treble and bass clef, Brook switched to talking about note types and beats.
“A note’s value determines how many beats you should hold it for. This one with a closed note head is a quarter note, it gets held for one beat. This one with an open note head is a half note, and it gets two beats. This one that looks like an ‘o’ is a whole note. It gets four beats. Putting a dot besides a note head adds another half of that note’s length to it.” Brook was getting very good use out of his lack of lungs.
“So, a half note with a dot would be three beats.” Despite not seeming interested, Zoro was a good listener. This delighted Brook to no end.
“Yes!” Brook exclaimed. “You can also use ties to extend a note, if two notes are tied together then you hold them as long as the value of both notes added together.” Brook pointed out such a tie on the page, a sort of arc used to connect the notes. “You can also shorten the time of a note with either flags or beams. Each flag added halves the value of a note,” Brook pointed to an example on the page, “beams do the same but they’re a bit clearer to read.”
“Music has a lot of math in it,” Zoro noted.
Brook chuckled. “Yes, math seems to find a way into most of life’s activities.”
And, though Zoro didn’t seem particularly interested, he hadn’t asked Brook to stop yet. So, Brook went on to talk about the different rest values and how many beats they got before switching over to key signatures, sharps, and flats.
“Why.”
“Why?” Brook tilted his head.
Zoro was frowning. “Seems like a lot of trouble to keep up with changing keys and when to sharp or flat or whatever. Why not just do everything in one key and add sharps or flats if you want something different?”
“That’s a good question!” Brook smiled. “Different keys have a different sound and feel to them; playing a song in a different key changes how it sounds quite a lot! It’s easier to denote what key you should play in at the beginning of the song than to use lots of sharps and flats throughout, and it lets the person reading the music get a better idea of what kind of piece they’ve picked up.”
“This doesn’t look easier.” Zoro looked towards the music with a frown.
“Yes, well.” Brook sighed. “This composer was a little bit trigger happy with the key changes. Honestly, I don’t know what he was thinking. In this scenario, you are correct that less key changes and the use of some sharps and flats would be much cleaner.”
“Mmph, gross.” Zoro gestured towards the page. “What’s with all the fractions.”
“That’s the time signature!” Brook liked being asked questions. “It tells you the meter of the song. The top number shows how many beats are in a measure,” Brook pointed out the boundaries of a measure, “and the bottom number shows the note value of each beat.”
“And the note value is the length?”
Brook nodded, then pointed to a 4/4 signature. “With this signature there are four beats in a measure and every quarter note gets one beat. With this one,” Brook pointed out a 2/2 signature, “every half note is one beat, so every quarter note then becomes-”
“Half a beat.”
“Yes! And this dotted half note-”
“Would be one and a half beats.” Zoro rolled his shoulders before gesturing towards one of the measures. “I’m guessing the rest notes change too since this measure has a quarter note, eighth rest, and dotted quarter rest when the time thingy is six-eighths.”
Brook must have sat stunned for a few moments because Zoro continued with a raised eyebrow. “Because the time thing means the measure has six beats and the eighth note gets one beat? It goes to follow the quarter note would get two beats, the eighth rest one beat, and the dotted quarter rest three beats. That makes six.”
“Y-yes! It does!” Brook tilted his head. “Goodness, Zoro. You’re quite quick at this. It takes most quite a while to effectively wrap their heads around changing beat values.”
Zoro shrugged. “It’s just math.”
“’Just math’? It can take years for a beginner to get comfortable switching between time signatures.” Of course, knowing how they would change and being able to switch between signatures while playing were two different things, but grasping the concept so quickly was quite a feat regardless.
Zoro, again, shrugged. “It’s just numbers. Why is it so important to have different time things anyway.”
That effectively distracted Brook from continuing to question about math. “Essentially, there’s a lot of variety when it comes to music, and some pieces work best with certain time signatures. A lot of the signatures are relatively interchangeable and sound similar to each other, but they can have slightly different uses.”
“Hm.” Zoro grunted. “So, what’s so horrible about it?”
Brook tilted his head.
“You said something was horrible when I came in?”
Oh, did I…?
Ah, right. He’d been working on his project when Zoro came in.
“The composer who wrote this piece changed keys and time signatures too many times. I suppose he can write his music however he wants, but most of his switches are unnecessary!” Brook threw his hands in the air. “With this piece it would make much more sense to limit the amount of key changes and change time signatures twice at most. I like a challenge, but this is needlessly complicated.” He waved a hand. “It’s a beautiful piece though, and I’ve wanted to learn it for a while. But I hadn’t worked up the mental fortitude to wade through the pages and make an arrangement that’s easier to read.”
“You said that before. What does that mean?”
It took Brook a second to realize what Zoro meant. “Make an arrangement? It just means that I’m rewriting it with less time signature changes and key changes as an aid for myself. It will be much easier to practice that way.” It wouldn’t have been impossible to practice as it was, but as much as he enjoyed a challenge he felt trying to work with this piece as it was would be more an unnecessary headache than anything else. “Currently, that just means going through the sheet music and writing out the beats beneath the notes and adding in the sharps and flats that aren’t written due to key signatures,” Brook passed Zoro a finished page as an example. “Having it written out will make it easier to rewrite it simpler later.”
“Hm.” Zoro studied the page. “How many of this guy’s songs are you going to arrange?”
“A little over a dozen. I was hoping to get through them while I’m stuck in here, but it’s been incredibly boring.” Brook sighed. “I’m remembering why I held off doing it so long in the first place.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Zoro grunted. “The bit with the beats at least. I don’t really get the key change stuff.” He handed the page back. “Give me some of the music paper and a pen.”
Brook tilted his head. “What?”
“I write the beats beneath the notes on one song while you write the key change nonsense on another. Then we switch. That would do it, right?” Zoro sounded a bit annoyed, as if explaining something simple.
“I… yes?” Brook stuttered. It would help, of course, but why in all the blues would Zoro want to do such a thing?
“Okay, then hand me some of your sheet stuff.”
“But- why?” Brook couldn’t help but ask. Zoro putting up with Brook’s prattling was one thing, but voluntary math? Zoro hadn’t even known what sheet music was that morning!
Zoro raised an eyebrow. “It’s this or facing the cook’s wrath. Might as well do something to keep me from dying from boredom. Uh, no offense.”
“None taken.” Brook was well acquainted with both boredom and death. He wasn’t sure that math was better than either.
“So, you gonna hand me the stuff or not?” Zoro waved his hand impatiently.
And, well… Brook didn’t have anything to lose; he could always redo the beats if Zoro didn’t get it right. (And he would have given Zoro one of his own ribs if it had kept him there longer. Even if Brook didn’t understand how math could be the thing helping keep Zoro there.)
Brook handed over some sheet music and one of his extra pens. “Thank you, but you really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“Don’t thank me,” Zoro grunted. “This is the only place on the ship with any peace and if I fall asleep Chopper will chew me out. Might as well do something.”
Ah, that’s right. Brook couldn’t help but chuckle. As if I could force Zoro to do something he didn’t want to. “Well, thank you all the same.”
Zoro took to his task with apparent ease. He would ask the occasional question when he ran into something new, but it only took a quick explanation for him to figure it out and continue. He didn’t even ask about new time signatures he saw; instead figuring them out on his own.
Brook was very curious to see Zoro’s work once he was done. Brook knew he himself certainly couldn’t have written out the beats for such a complex piece so soon after learning the bare fundamentals of reading music. Zoro had seemed to grasp the concepts quite quickly, though, and Brook couldn’t help but be excited about that.
Regardless of how Zoro did, though, Brook was just ecstatic to not be sitting in the fridge all alone. They were working mostly in silence (Brook couldn’t help but mutter to himself), but the faint noise of another living person was doing wonders for Brook’s mental well-being. He was able to work on his project and keep the fridge within the right temperature range without his earlier stress.
Brook doubted Zoro was having as good a time as he was. Because, well, math. But he was glad Zoro had stayed anyway.
Zoro’s song had a few less pages than the one Brook was working on, and they finished around the same time.
Brook’s years of practice made it easy to do a quick scan of the first few measures after each time signature change to check Zoro’s work. And, incredibly, Zoro hadn’t gotten a thing wrong that Brook could see.
“Wow, Zoro, you’re really good at this!”
Zoro just shrugged; he was already working on what Brook had handed him. “Not really. It’s just math.”
“Well, ‘just math’ is difficult for a lot of people. It took me years to get to the speed you’re going at, and you only learned a bit about reading music less than—” Brook actually had no idea how long they’d been in there “—not that long ago!”
Zoro frowned. “You sound like Kuina. Math is math. All you have to do is follow the rules. Swords are much more interesting; there’s strategy and growth involved.”
Brook didn’t know who Kuina was. “There’s growth involved with math, too. You have to learn new rules and practice if you want to solve problems quicker.”
“I guess? It’s easy, though. Swords are much better.”
Brook wasn’t going to try and argue swords with Zoro. “Nonetheless, I’m impressed.”
Zoro glanced suspiciously at Brook from the corner of his eye. “You’re not gonna make me tutor you too, are you?”
Brook would have blinked if he could. “Someone forced you to tutor them? Who?”
“Kuina,” Zoro huffed. “Her father was weird about grades. She made me tutor her in math and offered to teach me some sword stuff in return.”
Brook had been under the impression that Zoro’s explaining skills were about on par with Luffy’s. “How did that go?”
“Eh. Good and bad. I wasn’t a great teacher, but I got better. She was a good teacher, but I was too hotheaded to be a good listener.” Zoro shrugged. “She got better at math, and I got better at swords. Eventually, at least.”
“Hmm…” Brook tilted his head. “Sounds like you were both benefitted, so I’d say it worked out.” Ah, right, Zoro asked me a question. “To answer your question, though. No, I don’t need any tutoring. I’ve gotten much better at this sort of thing over the years. I just don’t particularly like it and have been too bored and lonely to pay good attention.” Brook winced. Oops. He hadn’t meant to say that last bit out loud. I suppose my boredom from being alone may have loosened my lips a bit…
Ah, but I don’t have lips. Are no lips worse than loose lips? Or would-
“Can’t you just ask someone to sit in here with you?”
“What?” Brook tried to rewind back to what they were conversing about.
“If you’re lonely, can’t you just ask someone to sit with you?”
Oh. “Well, yes,” Brook said. “But it’s quite cold in here and not the most pleasant place to have to spend time.” Too cramped and quiet and lonely-
“So? We have coats. We can take turns if it bothers you so much.”
“I… suppose that’s true.” Brook hesitated. “I just hate to be a bother. It isn’t exactly safe to be in cold temperatures too long and Sanji might get upset if the fridge is opened too often. Besides, I should be able to handle this.”
Should was not the same as could. Brook was distinctly aware of the difference, but he still stubbornly held out hope that he’d find a way to survive the eight tortuous fridge days.
“Who cares? We can figure something out, take turns or whatever.” Zoro switched which page he was working on. “Curly-brows will understand. It’s really not a big deal.”
Brook fidgeted with the papers in his hands.
On the one hand, things would be much easier if he just had some company.
But on the other hand, things would only be easier for him. Everyone else would have to suffer the cold and cramped fridge. With Franky sick, Chopper busy taking care of him, and Sanji being better off not inside the source of his stress, that would leave Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Robin to take turns. Brook hated to force them to sit with him.
Besides, Luffy had too much energy to be comfortable in small places for long, and Nami wasn’t a fan of the cold. It would be-
There was a tap against Brook’s arm. “-ey, Brook. You there?”
“Sorry, what was that?” Brook refocused on his surroundings. How long was I distracted? I didn’t let the temperature get too low, did I? His head snapped towards the thermometer.
It was fine. Brook pulled at his soul to lower the temperature a few degrees anyway. Better to keep things very safely within Sanji’s approved temperature range…
“-ook? Are you listening?”
Oh, right! “I am so sorry, what was that, Zoro?”
Zoro was looking at Brook. “You good?”
“It’s- I… just got a bit distracted.” Brook deflated a bit.
Zoro frowned. “You know if you’re miserable it cancels out the work you’re doing to try and make curly-brows not miserable, right?”
Brook tilted his head.
“There’s no point trying to make the cook feel better if you’re gonna feel a whole lot worse in the process. Just tell us what you need or whatever so we can help.”
“But… but you all would be miserable being stuck in here. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I’m not miserable. And didn’t Robin come in here earlier?” Zoro waved a hand and returned to his work. “Everyone would probably be the least miserable if two crewmembers weren’t being stubborn and not listening to anyone.”
“…Oh.”
Zoro was right.
Maybe Brook could handle this on his own (though he wasn’t convinced.) But even if he could it would only make him more and more miserable. The crew would be more than happy to help him, and they could probably figure out turns in a way where no one had to spend longer than they liked in the fridge.
“Pass me a new pen.”
“Hm?”
“Pass a pen. You said you wanted to get these finished before you get out of here, yeah?”
…Yeah. Brook smiled and passed Zoro a different pen. “You’re right, Zoro. I’ll ask for help. Thank you.”
Zoro shifted with a grunt. “Don’t thank me, I didn’t do anything.”
Brook couldn’t help but chuckle. Zoro’s ‘not doing anything’ looked like a lot to Brook. “Well, thank you all the same. Just sitting in here with me means a lot.”
“Then you’re welcome. I guess.”
Brook tried to keep down his chuckles in favor of returning to his work. He would ask for help later, but for the moment he wasn’t feeling lonely.