David D. Nami

(Just a reminder: over there, wives take their husbands' surnames after marriage. So you know what this name means if you know.)

That night, at Nami's home.

Nami's quarters were on the west side of the main house. From the window, she could see the training grounds and the outlines of distant mountains.

She had furnished this room bit by bit with money she had "earned" herself: nautical charts covered the walls, the bookshelves were stuffed with meteorology and navigation texts, and drawing tools and unfinished sketches of islands lay scattered across the desk.

When Dawn pushed open the door, she was standing by the window with her back to it. Moonlight spilled over her, outlining a silhouette that had already taken on mature curves.

Dawn walked up behind her. He did not touch her, merely gazing out at the same scenery beyond the window.

"What are you looking at?"

"The mountains."

Nami spoke calmly.

"I used to think those mountains were so high, like I'd never be able to cross them. But now... they don't seem that far away anymore."

Dawn chuckled. "Because you've grown taller."

"Not just physically."

She finally turned around and looked up at him. Moonlight shone over her face. Those sly, lively eyes, once like a kitten's, now held something deeper.

"Dawn, tell me honestly. Do you really like me, even just a little?"

The question came out of nowhere. Dawn did not answer immediately. Instead, he reached out and caressed her cheek.

His palm was huge, nearly covering the entire side of her face. His fingertips brushed her warm skin.

"I do. Of course I do. I've liked you since my previous life. What about you?"

Nami fell silent for several seconds, then sighed. Her shoulders relaxed as she raised a hand to