The room is quiet.

Outside, the crew celebrates their survival. Inside, you lie in bed—bruised, bandaged, barely able to move. The fight is over, but its echoes linger in your body.

Nami sits beside you.

She thinks you’re asleep…

Her fingers tremble as she adjusts the blanket over your shoulder. Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I should’ve been stronger,” she says. “I should’ve protected you.”

You remember the fight. The way she froze. The way you stepped in—without hesitation, without regret.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You didn’t deserve that.”

She leans closer, her forehead nearly touching yours.

“You matter to me. More than I say out loud.”

You don’t speak. Not yet. But you hear everything.

And maybe… you’ll decide what to say next.