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I’ve always liked listening to songs, it makes the day to day life of being a hero much easier to deal with. But I’ve never truly listened to songs. Not like she did anyways. Whenever I listened to songs, it was always because the tune had a flare to it. It made flying through the air feel incredible, the wind between my feathers, ruffling my hair, it felt almost otherworldly, for a lack of a better term.
She on the other hand, she truly listened to songs. I don’t know why, until now I still don’t know why. But she would listen to the lyrics of the songs. Perhaps it was just her weird ability to focus on more than one thing, whenever she listened to a song it’ll always be when she was doing something else. Perhaps looking over boring documents, or reading through mission reports.
There would always be a song playing in her office, so much so I wondered how many genres she liked. And every time, she knew almost all the lyrics to all of her songs. She had her favourite songs, just as I do, but the way she picked her favourites was much different than the way I picked mine.
I remember it so clearly as if it happened just yesterday. I had just finished a mission and had to report it to her. She was a high commanding officer from New York that got transferred for an unspecified amount of time in Tokyo. Unsurprisingly to her, though surprisingly to me, she got tasked to work with a hero agency. My hero agency.
It was odd, to say the least, she had the oddest accent. She was fluent in the language of course, but there was just some flare to it, perhaps it was the Western spice that added to my intrigue of it.
I had knocked on the door and went in her office, holding some papers that my secretary had brought up to complete my report. As always, I heard the song she was playing immediately as I opened the door to her office. I remembered slightly grinning as I saw her completely lost in the melody of the music.
It was rare for her to be completely entranced by the music she was playing, again she used it as background noise, only once in a while listening to the lyrics to get through the stressful times. Despite all that though, she still knew all her songs by heart.
Just as I opened my mouth to tell her I’d gotten my report, chuckling slightly, she quickly shushed me. My eyebrows knitted wondering why she had done that, until the song started to play its chorus.
If you could pull the lever to carry on forever
Would your life even matter anymore?
Sure it's a calming notion, perpetual in motion
But it's not what you signed up for
She sang the words loudly. I couldn’t help but let out a burst of equally loud laughter, my feathers ruffling behind me as I quickly shut the door. The room, as she decorated it herself, was soundproof. As to not disturb the people outside her office from working. She knew that not many people enjoyed music in their work time.
Once the chorus was over, she looked at me with an incredibly bright smile and a refreshed expression. She almost looked like a different person, her hair somewhat messy, eyes bright. At that moment I had half a mind to send a feather towards her to push some of her hair out of her eyes - I chose not to - it would’ve been unprofessional to do so.
“Sorry about that Hawks, it’s just my favourite song.”
I had learnt English at a very young age, it was part of the job of becoming a hero, after all, you’d have to know the international language. But even then, I could tell it came out so naturally from her. Much more natural than her Japanese at least.
“I can tell,” I chuckled, walking over towards her and placing the papers on her desk, “I was just about to hand in my report and tell you about the mission but I feel like I’d be intruding on a moment you’re having right now.” I joked, she snickered.
“You think I’m ridiculous now but you have to listen to the lyrics,” she pulled out her phone to replay the song from the beginning only to stop for a moment and looked at me with an almost sheepish expression, “You understand English, right?” Only to quickly stutter out, “If you don’t it’s fine of course!”
I laughed loudly leaning on the table, very close to her might I add. It always amused me how easily apologetic some Westerners were. Perhaps it was due to the cultural differences there and here, the ones who are nice were usually apologetic, and the ones who were entitled were, well, entitled. It was a breath of fresh air when I had met her at first and realized she was the former.
“I can speak and understand English fluently.” I decided to stop teasing her for a second.
Though she only smiled, I could feel the sigh escape her from my feathers. It was funny how she was terrified of offending me. She should know the things I deal with on a daily to know I’m not easily offended, and yet here she was, picking her words somewhat carefully.
“Then okay listen to the song! It is one of the best songs ever made I swear. The lyrics are just, incredible!” She finally played the song.
She sang the words to the song very clearly, I remembered, the words flowing out her tongue so easily I wondered how many times she listened to this song to remember it this clearly. I don’t remember what exactly the lyrics were. Only the chorus stuck to me. Mostly because it was the one, she was trying to get through my, thick skull, as she would call it.
Sure it’s a calming notion, perpetual in motion
But I don’t see the comfort of any lies
And
Sure it’s a calming notion, perpetual in motion
But it’s not what you signed up for
I remembered very vividly her trying to explain to me why those lyrics were incredible to her. I don’t remember the exact lines of which she spoke but I remembered making a joke asking if that was meant to be a jab for me. As the fastest hero, I am almost always perpetual in motion. Only for her to mutter out an apology and then almost as quickly hit me on the stomach when she realized I was only messing with her.
It was just too easy to tease her.
But I also remembered something else from that day, that night my head swirled with those lyrics.
Halfway through the explanation, I had stopped paying attention, it was during when she started to explain a second lyric that hit her almost as hard as the first one. I didn’t remember what it was.
Only the feeling it brought to my chest when I heard her say it. Perhaps my ears had heard her and my mind registered it, thus bringing that warm, almost unsettlingly comforting, feeling to my chest. But it was my subconscious who decided not to remember what she said.
The next day, she played a different song.
I didn’t hear that song ever again since then.
Perhaps she had gotten sick of it, or perhaps she just didn’t want to bore me with it. Who knows?
Whilst we had been close as friends and I, undoubtedly had grown rather attracted to her easy-going attitude towards a mean-spirited world, she had made no effort to try and get closer.
It was always me who had tried to pry her away from her work and get her to take a coffee break with me at the newly opened café on the other side of the building. She accepted after I threatened to tickle her with my feathers. After a while though, I realized why she was putting the distance between us.
It had been almost a year since her transfer there. Hell, I had subconsciously planned a small celebration for the anniversary of her coming to my office. It had made the area more light-hearted and fun. Especially with her music and her office that was open to anyone who wanted to take a break and listen to some tunes.
But it was roughly a week before that very same anniversary that she told me she’d be leaving the next day. She waited to tell me last.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I would’ve asked you to go out with me one final time.”
I didn’t know it at the time but reviewing back, I realized how exasperated I sounded. It may be due to someone I’ve been so accustomed to and enjoyed so much leaving so soon. Thinking back, that was probably the same reason she recoiled back.
“Hawks, we can still talk, and who knows maybe you’d get a mission from the states. You know how the US likes to butt into international businesses. Maybe we’d get to work together again.”
That day I worked in her office more than I did outside in the field. And that day no songs were played.
The very next day, she didn’t even arrive in her office. She left early at dawn so that she could arrive home in the morning their time.
Even though her office was soundproof and I had spent most of my days outside working in the field. It felt, odd, too quiet almost. Her office since then had been deconstructed, but weirdly enough every time I come into my own office that vaguely resembles hers, I had half expected to hear some song playing.
Whether that song I was expecting was English or Japanese I don’t know. I just always expect some melody to be playing once I go into a room. It was odd to say the least.
It would be almost years from then that I got work in the States. I handled it with professionalism, of course, she had been so far back in my mind that I even forgot completely about her when I was given the task at hand.
But as days ticked by in the States and I had already gotten accustomed to working together with the American heroes. My phone had slowly fed more American-centric recommendations, no doubt due to it sensing where I was located right now.
Then one day, as I was on a day off, mindlessly scrolling through videos, I clicked a specific video. Then that tune played.
That tune I hadn’t heard in so long.
The first line through me to the memories I thought I had buried a long time ago.
Sure it’s a calming notion, perpetual in motion
But I don’t see the comfort of any lies
I almost choked back a tear listening to it. A few lines go by and then a specific lyric caught me off guard.
I don’t see what they see, when death is staring at me
I see a window, to live it, or not at all
I felt it, that unsettlingly comforting feeling in my chest. Only then did I realize what that feeling was. It was the feeling of sinking truth, the truth of her living her life and the truth of me not doing so. Sure, I was doing what I wanted to, with a goal in mind, and the drive to reach said goal. But I realized, that wasn’t living my life.
After that I made use of my newly made connections within the States to try and find the same office she worked at. If I wasn’t able to lift off the burden of duty off of myself, perhaps she could help. Perhaps she could teach me how to live my life. Just like the lyrics of the song she was so immersed in.
Though, my dreams were shattered in front of me when I heard one of my colleagues explained to me what they had found.
“We found out that she was a really respected officer, well loved and well paid too, even the public loved her. Which is kind of rare you know, even now a lot of the citizens here don’t really trust the heroes or the police. Though I understand completely why they would think that way, anyways, after she came back from Tokyo, I think she worked for a couple of weeks before quitting. No one knows why she quit, only that she seemed quieter and smiled much less once she came back, then she looked incredibly joyous the day they sent her off.”
I felt a weird sinking feeling in my chest at that moment. Perhaps, it was too late for me and her. Our stories had diverged a long time ago, and it was too late for me to turn around and chase after her. I smiled and thanked my colleague after that.
Going back home, I listened to the song again.
Sure it’s a calming notion, perpetual in motion
But I don’t see the comfort of any lies
Maybe, it was time for me to rest, just for a moment. Let down my wings, take off my jacket, just, for a moment.