The name Lunette drifts in like a sliver of moonlight caught between cherry blossoms, its French origin—literally “little moon,” from lune—infusing every syllable with a quietly luminous grace that feels at home beneath a night sky painted in indigo and silver. In Japanese reverie, she might be the gentle updraft that lifts paper lanterns across a still pond, a borrowed lens through which the world takes on softer contours and unexpected clarity; yet, despite her celestial connotations, Lunette is as unassuming as a silent path through bamboo groves—beautiful without demanding notice, capable of illuminating the mundane without fanfare. Though she will not cast shadows, her name suggests a delicate interplay of light and perspective, hinting at secrets whispered between petals and stars. At once poetic and practical, Lunette requires no cosmic alignment to endear itself, landing softly on the tongue with the cool elegance of midnight dew.