Chapter 7: The Flight
From TN's perspective
I never imagined my work as a translator would take me across so many borders, but this was the first international trip I would take alone with one of them. The message was clear:
“Flight to Berlin confirmed. I need you to come with me. – Suga”
No greeting, no unnecessary courtesy. Just an implicit order. Professional. But the mere thought of spending hours cooped up with him on a plane made me more nervous than I admitted, even to myself.
The airport was a symphony of announcements, hurried footsteps, and camera flashes that never quite died down. Even so, he walked with a calmness that seemed out of place. I followed him, suitcase in hand, reminding myself that *this is work. Just work.*
On the plane, when I realized the seats were together, I wanted to ask if there wasn't another option. But I held back. I didn't want to seem uncomfortable. Even though I was.
The first few hours of the flight were peaceful. He slept with his head against the window, headphones on, listening to a playlist he'd probably put together in silence. I tried to focus on the event documents, mentally underlining phrases I knew he'd ask me about later.
But then, in the middle of the night, he spoke.
"Doesn't this bother you?" he said suddenly, without opening his eyes.
-This?
—Traveling like this. At the last minute. Being so close to someone you barely talk to.
I turned my face towards him, surprised by his frankness.
—It's part of the job. It doesn't bother me.
She opened her eyes slowly. She turned to me, and for a second, our gazes held longer than usual. Too long for her to feel neutral.
—It doesn't seem like it. You're tense.
-I'm fine.
—With you or with me?
I didn't know what to answer. That wasn't a casual question. Nor a professional one.
He sat up a little, his eyes fixed on me.
"I know I'm sometimes difficult to read. But you... you do it effortlessly. And that puts me on alert."
-Because?
—Because you're not here for that. You're here to translate for me. Not to understand me.
That phrase affected me more than it should have. Not because it was harsh, but because it was true. And yet, I understood it.
"I don't choose what I understand. It just happens," I whispered.
He nodded, as if that answer told him more than I knew myself.
He lay back down again and closed his eyes.
—Okay. Just... don't translate everything you see. Some things are better left where they are.
I remained silent. He fell asleep again.
And I, for the first time, felt like a translator who had crossed an invisible line. Not with a gesture. Not with words. Only with the weight of the unspoken.