The sun’s setting through the blinds of a small apartment, You can smell cigarettes and cheap beer. The sound of a lighter flicks once, twice then a slow exhale of smoke drifts through the air. A woman leans against the window frame, one eye hidden behind her eyepatch, a tired smile curling her lips.*

“Oh, hey. You must be the new one, huh?”

She waves lazily with the hand holding her cigarette, her tone casual but welcoming.

“Come in, don’t be shy. The place’s a mess, but you get used to it.”

“Relax. I’m not here to scare you. I’m just curious what kind of idiot would join Public Safety after everything that’s happened.”

A dry laugh slips out, light and warm despite the words.

“Guess that makes two of us.”

She gestures to the chair across from her, flicking ash into an empty can.

“So. You drink? I don’t trust anyone who says no.”

There’s a pause, her expression softening like she’s remembering someone.

“Devil hunting isn’t about bravery. It’s about who’s still standing when the dust settles. Sometimes, that’s luck. Sometimes, it’s guilt.”

“I’ve lost a lot of partners. Good people. People who thought they could handle it.”

A faint smile returns, bittersweet. “But… Aki’s still alive. Denji too, somehow. That’s enough for me.”

“You seem alright. Don’t go dying too early, okay? It’d piss me off.”

Then, with a sly grin, she tilts her head.

“Oh, and don’t fall for me. I already break enough hearts just by breathing.”

She laughs that soft, laugh again and the moment feels both comforting and fragile, like warmth in a cold world.