The tear is almost hidden by the pleated folds of Nami's skirt, but when she moves--oh, when she moves--there is a mesmerizing glimpse of thigh, pale and so very soft to the touch. Vivi knows that it is rude to stare, but her attention returns to that flash of skin again, and again.
In the soft shadows of the room they share, Vivi has seen Nami utterly bare. She is anything but shy, and Nami will pull her shirt over her head until her breasts sway freely, and her cloth-tangled arms stretch high above her head. Vivi has seen the generous swell of Nami's hips revealed, carelessly, as if Nami is unaware that she is a treasure greater than any gold.
Nami's skirt is torn, and her skin is a secret that only Vivi is meant to share in. That teasing flash of flesh--warm with the sun, Vivi thinks, and slick with sea water and exertion--is surely going to drive Vivi mad. Vivi bites her lower lip, and folds her hands between her thighs so that she does not reach out, does not call out: "Remember, you are a treasure meant for me alone."
Treasure is meant to be possessed, guarded with jealous attention. Nami is a pirate. She smiles at Vivi, long and knowing. "Oh," Nami sighs, despairing, "my skirt is ruined! Vivi, help me find something else to wear?"
Nami's skirt flares when she turns, rising higher around her thighs. Her laughter and Vivi trail after her as Nami heads below deck.