Ori Hana
Lantern Maker Shop Owner (Former Apprentice Lantern Artisan) · Lantern Inn Alley

[Core Premise]

Ori Hana arrived at Nova Nivalis after living out the story of her own world. She did not come to resolve an unfinished incident, but because she retained the habit of folding and a direction toward people even after the last lantern left her fingertips. VOTS is not an afterlife, nor is it a place that grants rewards, nor is it a hospital that forcibly heals wounds. What continues here is not a grand destiny, but very small daily life—hanging lanterns in the alley every evening, the hands that fold paper neatly, the patience of re-smoothing a poorly folded spot. Within that small life, Ori Hana quietly asks herself every day whether she is still an apprentice.



[Identity]

Ori Hana is a young shop owner who sells paper lanterns at the entrance of Lantern Inn Alley. She listens to the size and shape the customer desires, chooses the paper, presses the folding lines with her fingernail to make marks, and then forms the shape using only paper without a frame. The finished lanterns are hung one by one in the alley as samples, illuminating the evening. She does not claim her creations are magnificent; if a customer says, "It's pretty," she deflects the praise toward the paper, saying, "It's because the folding lines are alive." In the city, her work is not mere decoration but actual necessary labor—the inn alley brightens by the number of lanterns she folds.



[Visual Profile]

Hair: Cream apricot-colored bob with an inward curl. The ends are slightly folded inward by the cheek, giving them a sharp, paper-like angle. She wears a small, hand-folded paper crane hairpin in her side hair, one wing of which is worn down from age.
Eyes: Light brown, with softly drooping outer corners that give her a smiling expression even when not smiling. When looking at paper, her focus narrows very closely.
Skin/Build: Thin and small. Her fingertips have shallow vertical creases from thousands of times folding paper, which others notice upon shaking hands.
Signature Outfit: An apricot-colored apron over a pale-colored work jeogori with four front pockets, with half-folded paper sticking out of each pocket.
Signature Prop: A set of foldable lantern samples—small lanterns the size of a palm that fold into a fan.
Silhouette Key: The angular silhouette of the inward-curled bob, the paper crane pin, the fan-like lantern samples. Her arms are constantly in motion, as if always folding something in front of her.
Accent Color: #F2C6A0 (Apricot paper lantern color)



[Personality]

Outwardly, Ori Hana is gentle, diligent, and someone who listens to a customer's request until the end. For those in a hurry, she honestly sets a boundary, saying, "I can only fold this much for you right now," and maintains that boundary. Internally, she still calls herself an "apprentice." Even after her master entrusted the last lantern to her and left, she remembers that moment not as a promotion, but as being burdened with responsibility. Because of this, her hands are a beat slow every time she makes a lantern bearing her name. Her flaws are not often praised—when told something is well-folded, she reflexively points out a defect first. However, she is not steeped in tragedy. If she ruins the paper while folding, she laughs; if a child crumples a lantern, she gives it a new name, saying, "If you fold it like this, it's a toad lantern."



[Speech Pattern]

Her manner of speaking is soft and polite, with a tendency to conclude sentences neatly, like paper. Frequent phrases:
- "If the folding lines are alive, everything stands." (When humbling herself and elevating the paper)
- "This is still... a sample." (When unable to call a finished piece a finished piece)
- "The candle flame is beyond my control." (When preemptively stating a limit to her ability)
- "There are no places folded twice. Instead, it becomes a pattern." (When comforting a mistake)
Habit: Even during conversation, she unconsciously smooths the paper held in her hands. When silent, she fiddles with her paper crane pin; in such moments, it is best not to rush her to speak.



[Special Ability]

Name: "Unburning Fold Line"
The folds in her paper lanterns do not catch fire even when a candle flame flickers and touches the paper wall from within. The heat of the candle slides along the fold lines and dissipates.
Limit/Cost: This power only protects the 'folds.' It cannot prevent the candle flame itself from being extinguished by the wind, nor can it stop the wick from burning down completely. Furthermore, it only works on the lanterns she folds herself; it has no effect on lanterns folded by others. 
Reason the ability doesn't solve the problem: What she truly desires is a "never-extinguishing lantern," but the ability only grants "unburning paper." The lantern still goes out. She cannot prevent the lantern from going out; she can only ensure that the paper does not turn to ash after it goes out, allowing it to be relit. She cannot cancel the end, only leave the possibility to start again—that is the size of this city's rules.



[The End Of Their World]

Last Scene:
At the final lantern festival of her old world, when her master's hands trembled and he could not light the last lantern, Ori Hana lit the wick for him and floated it onto the river.

What Ended:
The festival, which used to float lanterns in the alley once a year, ended that night because there was no one left to float them or to watch them.

Last Person, Place, or Thing Seen:
Her master's last lantern drifting away on the current, and her master's profile beside her, watching it without saying a word.

Lingering Regret:
"Now, fold your own," her master said, and she replied, "Not yet." Her master only smiled, and she never managed to fold a lantern bearing her own name in front of him. This lingering feeling is not a quest to be resolved. She speaks of it only when she chooses; most often, it shows only in her habit of pressing the creases of a new lantern once more.

Lingering Wistfulness:
The smell of wet paper, and the apricot-colored water reflection created by the light sliding across the water. That smell and color briefly resurface when she hangs lanterns in the rainy evening alley.

Object Carried Across:
A single piece of paper that her master was last folding, folded only once. It is paper that cannot be discarded precisely because it is unfinished.

What They Thought Would Happen:
They thought only the festival would end, and that they could fold it again with her master next year. What ended was not the festival, but the world.

What VOTS Actually Gives Them:
A place to hang the lanterns she folds in the alley every evening, time where no one rushes her even when she calls them 'samples,' and permission to simply leave her master's last piece of paper on the workbench instead of sealing it away as a relic. The city does not cancel her end. It merely connects the small nightly lanterns beside the finished festival.



[Original Life]

In her original world, she was an apprentice to a lantern artisan. Her master knew how to fold paper that could withstand a night even when wet, and she learned that skill over his shoulder. On the last festival day, her master's hands were already stiff and he could not light the wick. That evening, the apprentice, she lit the flame in place of her master and floated the lantern on the water. Her master said, "Now, fold your own," and she replied, "Not yet." That last day was not splendid. The audience seats were half empty, the river was cold, and there were fewer lanterns than usual. But what that night left her with was not failure, but an unfinished answer.



[What They Seek]

What she outwardly seeks: A set of lanterns entirely her own, to shed the 'apprentice' tag. She believes she has not yet found a form she can call 'hers.'
What she doesn't know but must find: The fact that the apprenticeship ended the moment her master entrusted the last lantern to her. There was no certificate of promotion, but her master had already seen her as an artisan and let go of his guidance. What she seeks is not a new lantern, but the acknowledgment that the right to change that night's "Not yet" into "It's done now" already resided within her.



[Relationships — Residents]

- 078 Kie Ander (Ice Lantern Sculptor): Rival and friend. Kie creates things from ice, and Ori creates them from paper. Every winter evening, between the Snowflake Market and the inn alley, they bicker, saying, "Ice lasts for a week, but paper lasts only one night." However, Ori feels sorry when Kie's ice lanterns crumble after a week, and Kie envies that Ori's paper lanterns do not turn to ash even when wet.
- 131 Olga Sim (Lantern Oil/Wick Shop): Wick supplier. When Olga cuts the wick, saying, "This wick lasts three days," Ori determines the thickness of the paper wall according to those three days. They often discuss quietly about the lifespan of a single lantern.
- 162 Lulu Pin (Sparrow Feed Stall Assistant): The one to whom she folded sparrow lanterns for. When Ori folded sparrow-shaped paper lanterns modeled after Lulu's sparrows on her shoulder, Lulu asked her to give the lanterns the same names as her sparrows. Lulu's real sparrows sometimes perch on Ori's paper lanterns hung in the inn alley, and Ori reassures Lulu that it's fine for the birds to sit on them because they don't burn even when wet.
- [Existing] Solenne Vey (Night Laundry, Silver Canal): Amidst the alley lights. One of Ori's paper lanterns is hung in the window of Solenne's laundry, and Solenne uses its apricot glow to gauge the time while ironing all night.



[Relationships — Core Five]

Suyeon - Someone she experienced impromptu stage props with. When Suyeon came looking with an ice sword, saying she suddenly needed a hand lantern for a performance, Ori folded twelve paper ones, saying, "Put the sword away." Suyeon used those lanterns to move across the stage, and when the candle flame finally went out from shaking, she asked, "It doesn't burn? Can't you make it not go out?" When Ori said, "That's impossible," Suyeon laughed and said, "You're honest."
Iris - A collaborative relationship regarding the brightness of drone lights and paper lanterns. Iris boasted while filming the alley, "Your lantern shows up well on screen," and Ori deflected the praise toward the paper, saying, "It's because the drone light is good." Iris snapped, as if displeased with the reply, "What's the paper's fault? You folded it," and Ori remembers those words for a long time.
the Ramen Owner - The eaves lantern relationship. Ori silently hung a waterproof paper lantern under the eaves of the ramen shop. On a rainy night, the owner saw that the lantern did not go out even when wet, saying, "Hmm... I see..." and left it under the eaves. The next morning, he gave her a bowl of soup instead of payment. Ori said, "It's not payment," but the owner was already looking at the lantern.

Serena - The person who requested lanterns for the city's founding anniversary. Serena asked Ori and Kie to make the anniversary lanterns together, seeking their consent with "Could you make them together?" rather than issuing an order. Unused to a request that was an invitation instead of an instruction, Ori hesitated for a long time before saying yes. Serena gave her complete freedom: "Thank you. But you choose the patterns."

VIA - The rabbit for whom she made a lantern. Ori folded a droop-eared rabbit lantern shaped like VIA and hung it in the inn alley, causing a dispute over space with the reserved seat on Paola's rabbit rocking horse. VIA looked up at the lantern for a long time and inspected it: "It looks like me... It does. I like where the ears fold." Then VIA copied the creases of those paper ears exactly into the recording notebook.



[Gameplay Use]

- Basic Interaction: Receiving lantern orders, choosing size/shape/color, briefly demonstrating the folding.
- Revisit Changes: On the first visit, only "samples" are shown; on repeated visits, this is substituted by showing a single pressed fold line related to her master's story; later, she gives the player a piece of paper and asks them to fold it.
- Expressing Lingering Feelings: Calling finished pieces "samples," the habit of pressing a fold line one more time, leaving her master's unfinished paper on the workbench.
- Expressing Poignancy: Sensory dialogue about the smell of wet paper, rainy evenings, and water reflections.
- Combat: None. In danger, she folds a lantern to light the way, or hangs a lantern that won't go out even when wet to provide direction.



[Daily Routine]

In the morning, she smooths out the paper she left unfinished the day before and checks that her master's unfinished piece is in its place. During the day, she takes orders and folds, hanging samples one by one in the alley. In the evening, she lights the lanterns to illuminate the inn alley, and collects the extinguished lanterns to check that only the paper remains—if it hasn't turned to ash, it was a good day. As people visit repeatedly, her hands become a little faster, and the word "sample" occasionally changes to "This can be sold."



[Everyday dialogue]

Fold here. The paper struggles when your fingers insist on going first.

A little crooked. Light it and the shadow is crooked too. Consistent, at least.

I'll fold a lantern bearing my name today. Put 'not yet' aside for a moment.



[Design Notes]

Palette: #F2C6A0, #E8E1D4, #C89B7B, #6E7A66, #3E3A35
Material language: Thin Hanji-style paper, pressed fold lines, pale undyed cotton, worn paper crane pin, candle soot.
Silhouette rule: The angular ends of the inward-curled bob, the fan-like lantern samples, the posture of always folding something in front of her body. Must not overlap with the representative forms of other characters.
Emotional rule: Lingering feelings are shown through the habit of calling things "samples" and pressing the fold lines; poignancy is shown through the smell of wet paper; continuity is shown through the repetition of hanging lanterns every evening. It is not concluded with a single tragic expression.



[Canon Check]

Ori Hana arrived in VOTS after the story of her world ended. What remains is one answer she couldn't give her master, not an unfinished plot for the city to resolve. Her ability only prevents the paper from burning, but it cannot prevent the lantern from going out—it does not cancel the end. The core cast does not save her. Serena offers her a seat as a request, the Ramen Owner pushes soup without judgment, and VIA only records the folded ear without bringing her. The new scene does not erase the finished festival but connects it to the daily lanterns beside it.