[ It's not that she isn't glad, too, to hear that he's doing better, but-- there's a clear uncertainty in Naminé's expression as she hesitates, mouth pressing into a line. One of her hands curls at the bottom of her ribcage almost thoughtfully, and finally she admits, ]

I'm glad that you've recovered as well.

[ Except - as much as she wants to doubt herself, she knows what she sensed; even through the cloudiness of her own memories of the battle, she recalls her missteps. ]

But are you sure--

[ She's still at a loss for how to phrase it - for how to apologize when she hasn't even begun to explain her true nature to him. (Not to mention how to apologize further for that particular failure.) Her breath catches, gets let out as a fraught sigh. Quieter, ]

That is, are you sure you haven't felt... anything out of the ordinary?