For days after that encounter, Hawks couldn't get her voice out of his mind.
He'd heard countless sounds in his career — explosions, screams, sirens, the chaos of battle — but her voice had been different.
It wasn't just beautiful. It was peaceful. The kind of peace he didn't realize he'd been craving.
He found himself circling above Musutafu more often than usual, eyes drifting toward that small patch of land where the old church stood. It was quiet there — no cameras, no patrols, no fame. Just wind, bells, and sometimes, if he was lucky… her song.
Finally, one late afternoon, he gave in to curiosity.
---
The church was empty when he arrived. The doors were open again, sunlight spilling through them like a warm invitation. Inside, Kagome was placing fresh flowers near the altar — lilies and daisies, bright and simple.
Hawks folded his wings as he stepped in.
"Back at it again, huh?" he said, grinning. "You really do like cleaning this place."
Kagome looked up, surprised but smiling. "Oh, it's you again. Hawks, right?"
"Still am," he said with a laugh. "I wasn't sure you'd remember me."
"I remember kind people," she replied softly. "You helped bring supplies to the orphanage last year, didn't you?"
Hawks blinked, caught off guard. "You knew about that?"
"I saw the news," she said, setting the flowers gently in place. "But I think you looked… tired back then. Are you feeling better now?"
The question — simple, genuine — hit harder than any villain's attack.
He scratched his neck awkwardly. "You really don't pull punches, huh? Most people just ask for autographs."
Kagome chuckled lightly, a sound like bells in the wind. "I think heroes need more listening than cheering sometimes."
Hawks leaned against a pew, his wings folding in tight. "You talk like you've got the world figured out."
She shook her head. "Not the world — just people. Everyone carries something heavy. If my words can make it lighter, even for a moment, then that's enough."
He studied her then — the sunlight glinting through her hair, the calm in her teal eyes. There was no power, no fame, no ambition in her. Just quiet purpose.
It felt… rare. Precious.
---
Outside, the city moved as always — fast, loud, chaotic. But within those old stone walls, Hawks found something he hadn't felt in years: stillness.
He smirked. "You know, if you ever get tired of cleaning, you could make a fortune singing. You've got that kind of voice."
Kagome laughed softly, shaking her head. "I don't sing for fame. Music's just a prayer for peace — mine, and everyone else's."
Her words lingered in the air like a melody.
Hawks sighed, turning to leave before she could see the small, almost tender smile tugging at his lips.
"Guess I'll just have to keep coming back then," he said casually. "For the peace, of course."
She smiled after him, her tone gentle and teasing. "Of course, Mr. Hero."
And as he took flight again, wings glowing in the sunset, he realized something strange — for the first time in a long while, he wasn't flying away from something.
He was flying toward it.