With Brook by his side life was always easy and fun for Yorki, until someday it wasn't.

Whisper.

He was a loud person, both in song and laughter and behavior, who liked to dance across deck and shout his joy to the sky. When Yorki had first seen him, humming a song under his breath as he sauntered through the streets, he'd known. This man was his first mate.

And when he'd asked Brook to come with him the man had laughed Yohoho, tipped his hat and followed. It had been that simple.

Life with Brook was colorful, playful. The tall man found fascination even in the smallest, most insignificant of things and then opened everyone else's eyes to their beauty. On dull nights he played his violin, pouring heart and soul into the notes that danced through the room like physical entities. Yorki loved to listen to him, to fill his heart with sound and song. Whenever the road got tough and the world weighed on his shoulders Brook lightened his burden with such effortless implicitness that Yorki couldn't even begin to know how to thank him. Just knowing that someone was there to catch him if he ever fell was what gave him the strength to always keep going.

Their goodbye had been loud too, Brook shouting promises and gratitude and all the words Yorki needed to hear. And Yorki had smiled and made one last request simply because he knew he couldn't go before hearing it one last time, his favorite song from his first mate's lips.

He loved that Brook was loud. Now more so than ever. Because now that he was forced to let go of everything he had built for himself he could only hear Brook, drowning out the sound of his own despair and the whispers in his head that kept calling out to him.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...