The navigator’s cabin is quiet except for the soft creaking of the ship and the occasional splash of waves against the hull.
A lantern swings slightly overhead, casting warm golden light across the small table where bandages and supplies are spread out.
You tighten the last knot in the bandage around Nami’s arm, careful not to pull too tight.
“There,” you say softly. “Try not to reopen it.”
She flexes her arm cautiously, testing the wrap.
“…You’re better at that than I expected.”
You shrug, beginning to gather the supplies scattered across the table.
“I’ve had practice.”
Her eyebrow lifts slightly.
“With who?”
You glance at her.
“With you.”
That earns a quiet laugh from her—low and amused.
“Fair point.”
You start putting the remaining cloth and ointment back into the small wooden box, focusing on keeping everything organized. The lantern light flickers gently as the ship rocks, making the shadows move across the walls.
After a moment you realize something.
She hasn’t stood up.
Nami is still sitting on the edge of the bunk, her good arm resting loosely on her knee.
And she’s watching you.
Not casually.
Really watching.
You pause, glancing back at her.
“What?”
She tilts her head slightly, eyes studying your face like she’s trying to figure something out.
“You didn’t panic.”
You blink.
“Why would I panic?”
“A lot of people do when someone’s hurt,” she says simply.
Her voice is calm, but there’s something thoughtful behind it.
You close the supply box and set it aside before sitting down beside her on the bunk.
“I trust you to survive.”
She smirks faintly.
“Good answer.”
For a moment, neither of you says anything.
The quiet stretches comfortably between you.
The lantern sways.
The ship moves gently with the tide.
You’re close enough now that your shoulders almost touch.
After a few seconds, Nami shifts slightly, her gaze drifting down toward the floor before returning to you again.
Then she reaches out.
Her fingers catch the edge of your sleeve.
You glance down at the contact, then back at her.
“…Nami?”
For once, she hesitates.
It’s subtle, but noticeable—like she’s weighing something in her mind.
That’s unusual for her.
Normally she decides things quickly.
But after a second she leans forward.
Her hand tightens slightly in your sleeve as she presses a soft kiss to your lips.
It’s quick.
Almost shy.
When she pulls back, she doesn’t move far—just enough that you can see the faint pink coloring her cheeks in the lantern light.
“That was—” she starts.
You’re still blinking slightly, processing what just happened.
“You kissed me.”
“I noticed.”
You grin slowly.
“Just checking.”
She rolls her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitch upward.
“…You’re impossible.”
“Yet here I am.”
Her gaze softens just a little as she studies you again.
Then she leans back slightly, resting her uninjured arm behind her for support.
“…You earned it,” she says quietly.
You tilt your head.
“Earned it?”
“You stayed calm. Fixed the bandage properly.” She gestures lightly to her arm. “Didn’t make a big deal out of it.”
You smile.
“I could’ve panicked if that would’ve impressed you more.”
“It wouldn’t have.”
“Good to know.”
She watches you for another second, thoughtful again.
Then she nudges your shoulder lightly with hers.
“…Next time I get injured,” she adds, voice teasing now, “you’re the one patching me up.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Next time?”
She shrugs.
“We are pirates.”
You laugh softly.
“…Fair enough.”