Korvath Scene - Jose's Comfortable Prison
Jose's upgraded cell—a modest room with clean sheets, warm lamplight, and a woven rug meant to imply civility—felt less like a prison and more like a strangely formal negotiation chamber. Iroko Ryusei stood near the window, arms folded behind his back, the posture of a man balancing patience and inevitability.
He had offered Lia Shinsei the task of escorting Jose around the city earlier that morning. Lia refused with the kind of polite firmness only she could deliver.
"I am a strategist, not a babysitter," she had said. "And not for someone like him."
Yaguro Aka had simply sighed and suggested the next best candidate.
"Hokuto Chika. Logistics. She deals with people all day. She can handle him."
Hokuto accepted the assignment immediately.
Whether out of duty, curiosity, or oblivious bravery, no one could tell.
Now, she stepped into the room.
Jose, seated comfortably on the edge of his bed, looked up—and froze.
Hokuto Chika was small, porcelain-like, her skin pale as untouched rice paper. Her long black hair was tied into playful, uneven pigtails, each bound with a little ribbon that swayed when she walked. Her maid-style logistics uniform hugged her delicate frame, giving her the appearance of an unassuming decorative doll placed on a noble's shelf. Her eyes—liquid brown and shimmering with quiet kindness—were the sort that made hardened warriors forget the next line of their sentences.
She bowed politely.
"Good afternoon, Jose-san. I've been assigned as your guide for the day."
Jose did not respond.
Not a blink.
Not a twitch.
Not even a breath deep enough to prove he lived.
Hokuto tried again, adjusting the small pouch in her hands.
"I've also brought the thirty silver coins you requested. This is for your—umm—shopping. Sir."
Still nothing.
Jose simply stared at her, wide-eyed, as if he had just witnessed a divine revelation descending gently upon the earth.
She stepped closer.
"Jose-san? Are you feeling well?"
The moment she came within arm's reach, his eyes rolled back, knees buckled, and he collapsed flat onto the floorboards.
Hokuto let out a tiny gasp.
"N-no! No, no, no—what did I do?! I didn't touch him! I only walked! Why did he fall?!"
She crouched down, waving her hands uselessly over his body, as if trying to fan life back into him.
The racket drew Iroko back into the room.
"Chika," he said sharply, "what did you do? I told you—this man is valuable. He holds information we need for the Frost Engine. Valuable, Chika."
"I—I know!" Hokuto squeaked, bowing repeatedly in panic. "I was just standing here, I swear! Then he—then he—"
Before she could finish, Jose twitched.
Then he groaned softly.
Then he sat up in one smooth, disoriented motion, like a puppet being lifted by unseen strings.
His eyes locked onto Hokuto again.
The room froze.
Jose raised a trembling hand… toward her.
"Jose?" Iroko asked cautiously. "Are you conscious? Speak."
Jose ignored him.
He only looked at Hokuto—no, gazed, with the devotion of a man who had just discovered his life's purpose printed in soft curves and mismatched pigtails.
His voice cracked with sincerity.
"Will you… marry me?"
Hokuto made a tiny, strangled noise that might have been a scream or a hiccup.
Iroko pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, breathing in deeply.
"Of all the problems we could have encountered," he muttered, "this was not on the list."
But Jose, still staring at Hokuto with unwavering seriousness, whispered again—
"This is love at first sight. I am certain."
Hokuto's blush detonated like a tiny fireworks display across her cheeks.
The interrogation had officially derailed.
And the bargaining game had only just begun.