Minato's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

The pink creature floated ahead, then slowed near the fallen dirt bike. Minato caught up and rested a hand on its rusted frame. The constellation paint had worn thin, but the engine still turned over. He glanced at the creature. It bobbed in the air and drifted forward, waiting. Minato understood. He swung his leg over the seat and kicked the bike to life. If the creature wanted him to follow, he would not fall behind again. The creature took off through the trees. Minato twisted the throttle and chased it. Branches whipped past his face. The front wheel bounced over roots, and the rusted frame shook under him. He leaned low and held the line. The creature kept just ahead, its crimson feet tucked beneath its round body. For a while he matched its pace. Then the creature climbed. It rose above the treeline and shot forward faster. Minato gripped the bars and gunned the engine. The tires screamed over dirt. He hit a rise and the bike left the ground, then slammed down hard. His teeth cracked together. The gap between them grew. He could not fly. The creature could. "Wait," he shouted. The wind tore the word away. He pushed the bike past what it could take. The engine whined and the frame rattled like it might split. The creature was a pink dot now, far above the trees. Minato refused to lose it. He had lost it once, for six years. Not again. The creature slowed. For a second Minato thought he had closed the gap. Then it turned in the air and looked back at him. Its dark eyes found his, the same stare from the library window. It raised one stubby arm. The sphere in Minato's pocket flared hot against his leg. Light burst from the creature. It spread fast, swallowing the trees, the sky, the ground. Minato shut his eyes and the white poured through anyway. The bike dropped out from under him. He felt no fall. He felt nothing beneath his feet at all. The roar of the engine cut to silence. He floated in blank white, weightless, the throttle gone from his hand. When the white thinned, the forest was gone. Minato stood on smooth pale stone. A sky of stars curved low overhead, closer than any sky should be. The dirt bike lay beside him, cold and quiet. The pink creature hovered near, calm, as if it had done this many times. The sphere burned warm in his pocket, and its glowing lines matched the lines carved into the stone at his feet. Minato turned in a slow circle. He had chased the creature to find the star gods. Now the creature had brought him somewhere no map in the silver box had ever shown. He was not following anymore. He had arrived.