Not the owner, not making money, not looking for a suit.
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17. kHz
Once or twice, a ship could be seen just off in the distance, but they were apparently too wrapped up in their own business to notice the little line of smoke rising off the inconsequential island out there on the horizon.
These times were the worst, worse than when they saw no ship at all, because it was just so disappointing.
But, Sanji was always one to look on the bright side. He found these times were the ones where he could get away with watching Nami for the longest amount of time; she was too busy being discouraged to notice. He'd learned fairly quickly that the best course of action in these situations was simply to let her feelings rebound on their own instead of actively trying to cheer her up, which usually only made her angry anyway.
Often he took the opportunity to study her face. He loved the shape of her nose most of all. No, no, it was the color of her eyes that he liked best. Okay, that was wrong too; it was the curve of her lips that he really loved. Actually, he couldn't decide. He loved it all, every inch of it. He almost wished the frequency with which they got the kiss-off from passing ships was greater because he simply couldn't get enough of it.
"Sanji."
The sadness in her voice broke his heart. "Yes, Miss Nami?"
"Stop staring at me."
"Ah. Yes, Miss Nami."