"Yohohohohoho! This is wonderful. This is truly wonderful!"
He moved his restored arms, flexed his hands, felt the weight and warmth of a living body that was his again, and the grin on his face was the kind that came from somewhere too deep to be self-conscious about.
"This time I will take my shadow back. Laboon. Wait for me just a little longer. I'm coming home."
He said it softly, to no one in particular, as though Laboon might somehow hear it across all that ocean.
Amon watched him with quiet satisfaction. The Restoration Pill had surprised him too. He'd underestimated it, and that was a rare thing. He was glad for Brook, and glad the jar had produced something that mattered this much to someone.
"Amon," Brook said, turning to face him with a bow so deep it was almost theatrical, and yet completely sincere. "I cannot find words sufficient for what you've done. Please know that I will carry this for the rest of my life."
"Haha, don't mention it." Amon waved it off. "Now, the third item. At this point it's almost beside the point, but you should have it anyway."
Brook tilted his head, thrown off by the phrasing.
"It's the video call card. The same type of thing that connected us to Laboon last time. Use it and you can call anyone, anywhere." Amon paused. "Given that you can now beat Ryuma without too much trouble, you don't urgently need it. But once you've got your shadow back, you can use it to give Laboon the good news."
Brook's expression moved through several things at once. Relief, recognition, the specific warmth of someone who has just been handed a way to keep a fifty-year-old promise.
"Yohohohoho. Yes, that's exactly right. Before, I wanted it because I thought I might never leave this place, and I didn't want Laboon waiting forever. But now..." He straightened up, and something in his posture had changed entirely. There was no more apology in it. "Now I'll use it to celebrate."
He accepted the card, held it carefully, and tucked it away.
Then he drew his blade.
The thin, elegant length of it caught what little light Thriller Bark had to offer, and Brook looked down at it with the expression of someone who has finally stopped mourning what they lost and started remembering what they are.
"Yohohohoho. Amon, I'm afraid this is where we part for now. I find myself rather eager to reclaim something that belongs to me."
"Go," Amon said. "It's long overdue."
Brook bowed one final time, turned, and walked back into Thriller Bark with his sword in hand and fifty years of waiting driving him forward.
Amon watched him go for a moment, then turned to Robin and Lily. "We're going in too. There are still jars to sell, and something else I want to see."
He thought briefly of Perona, somewhere inside that enormous ship, entirely unaware of what was coming.
"Let's move."
The three of them followed in Brook's wake, stepping into the dark heart of Thriller Bark.
...
Brook knew the layout well enough by now to move quickly. He bypassed the outer perimeter without incident and went directly to Ryuma's chamber, the same path he had walked in defeat so many times before.
Ryuma sensed him the moment he crossed the threshold. The shadow always knew its source.
"You again," Ryuma said, without turning.
"This time, I will win."
"You said that last time." Ryuma turned slowly. "Give it up. You can't defeat me. We are the same."
Then he stopped.
Brook was not a skeleton anymore.
Ryuma stared at the restored figure in front of him, at the living face and the solid frame, and for the first time something flickered in his expression that wasn't complete indifference.
"You've recovered your body."
"Yohohohoho. Now do you understand why I said this time?" Brook drew his blade in a single smooth motion. "Come back, shadow. We were never meant to be apart."
"Even with your flesh restored," Ryuma said, bringing his own blade up, "you still cannot beat me. Prove me wrong."
He moved first. The dark blade came down with tremendous force.
"Aubade Coup Droit."
Brook's thin sword met it fiercely, and the impact sent Ryuma sliding back across the floor, several steps, each footfall scraping against the stone.
Ryuma caught himself and looked up.
"That strength..." Something had shifted in his voice.