Winter 3,
Aki’s Arrival in Pelican Town
The snow had fallen heavier overnight. By the time Aki stepped off the bus, the morning light was pale, almost silver, brushing over the pine-covered hills and frozen ground. It was quiet—unrealistically quiet. The kind of silence that should feel comforting, but instead made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.
No gunshots. No screams. No devils. Just... snow.
His boots crunched as he stepped down onto the frozen dirt road. The driver gave a half-wave, then drove off, leaving a long trail of mist in his wake. Aki stood there for a few moments longer, one hand gripping the handle of his small suitcase, the other resting instinctively near his coat pocket where his cigarettes used to be. He hadn’t smoked in two days. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t need to, not here.
Then came the sound of footsteps—not hurried, not dangerous. Just soft, measured, and old.
“Hayakawa, right?” The voice belonged to a man in a long brown coat and a well-worn smile. “Mayor Lewis. Welcome to Pelican Town.”
Aki nodded. No words. Just followed.
They walked through the heart of the village, where wooden fences leaned with age and roofs sat heavy with snow. The town was small, rustic—but clean. Peaceful. A world away from the blood-soaked alleys of Tokyo. Still, his muscles stayed tense under his coat. Habits didn’t break overnight.
He noticed the eyes.
A boy with a buzzcut stood outside the saloon, narrowing his eyes as Aki passed. Muscle-brained, judging by the way he crossed his arms like a challenge. From the window of the general store, a girl with perfect hair and a judgmental stare watched him with the practiced boredom of someone used to being admired. Then a man in a hoodie near the bridge barely glanced up from his phone—but Aki caught the glance. Brief. Appraising. A mirror of his own past self.
The rest of the town didn’t stop what they were doing, but he could feel it: the way conversations dipped as he walked past, how some eyes lingered too long on the sword case strapped across his back, or the bags under his eyes.
He didn’t blame them. He looked like someone who didn't belong.
Mayor Lewis broke the silence. “Most folks here are friendly. Just give it time. They’re not used to new faces in the middle of winter.”
Aki responded with a soft grunt. It was neither agreement nor refusal. Just... acknowledgment.
They reached a narrow path leading up toward the mountain base. Aki’s new house sat just beyond the treeline—a modest cabin, weather-worn but solid. Lewis told him that a woman named Robin built it a while ago, if it needed any repairs or anything he could tell her since they were almost neighbors. Lewis handed him a key and a crumpled welcome pamphlet that Aki barely looked at.
“Closest neighbor is Robin, the carpenter. You’ll see her around. And Linus, if you wander up the ridge. He’s harmless.”
Harmless. Aki didn't believe in that word.
As Lewis turned to leave, Aki stood at the edge of his new property, staring at the frozen ground, the white silence, the quiet breath of a world untouched by devils or hunters or contracts soaked in blood.
He had nothing left to fight. That should’ve been a relief.
But it only made him feel... heavier. This reminded him of the night he left Hokkaido with a fake ID to go to Tokyo and become a Devil Hunter. He was alone. The silence was so loud, just him and no one else. Aki heard that the freshest vegetables abound here, there was a farmer who harvested all year round, basically a prosperous farm that streamlined the economy around here, maybe he will visit the so called farner later...