"Naminé. Thank you, I've forgotten her name. I don't remember it even now. But if somebody tried to tell me know that it's not Naminé, I wouldn't believe them."

The gratitude is sincere, and there's a shadow of a smile that almost makes him look like a teenager that just managed to weasel out some useful knowledge out of a younger brother or friend on his lips. And his voice is slightly louder - almost normal loudness - for the first time. And he nervously touches his own hair for a moment as if to check something, before perfectly calming down again.

"A few months, I see. I've only just arrived yesterday evening."

Trivial information for trivial information, so that there is no debt to pay later.

Isa seems to ignore the question of how he knows Naminé. Which is the nicest reaction such a question could produce in him.