"It's said that when people see birds flying in the sky, they get the urge to go on a journey."

Following a rain, the emergence of the first few birds from shelter brought these familiar words to the front of the traveler's mind. It was up so high that she could only make out a silhouette, but when Kino tilted her head toward the softening clouds she was met with the sight of one extraordinarily large pair of wings amidst several smaller Vs. Leaving an impression almost more dragon-like than bird-like, either way, it was stimulation enough.

The traveler leaned forward on the polished handlebars of her parked motorrad. "Well then Hermes, are we ready to get moving?"

With a brief double take at the sky before departing, she thought she saw the shape of a person on the back of that large bird– but it must have been a trick of the eye.


The traveler and the motorrad were swiftly covering plenty of ground on a clearly marked trail, surrounded on both sides by patches of waist-high reeds. As they advanced the scenery repeated uniformly, and it would have been easy to slip into a daze. Fortunately, Kino stayed alert, motivated by the possibility of hidden residents in the tall grass.

Abruptly, indeed, one brightly-colored blur appeared before them and darted across their path from left to right.

The vehicle screeched to a halt in good time. "What was that!?" the motorrad spoke.

"…Chu." Whatever it was identified itself with a mousy noise.

Lifting her riding goggles for a less obstructed view, Kino stood from her seat and searched for the source of the noise. The search was a short one. Sticking out from the grass on the right of the road were a pair of long ears and a jagged tail.

"Pikapi!" Like a shark's fin through water, the ears and tail slipped past the surface of the grass, tracing the creature's movements. Once it broke out of the cover of foliage, the full form was revealed as something like a rodent, a cat-sized rodent, with a shockingly vivid yellow coat.

On four yellow paws, it dashed nimbly and with purpose. The traveler opted to walk her motorcycle by the handles to follow the animal to its important destination. The place, or rather the person, to which it was headed soon entered into sight.

A young boy, perhaps a few years younger than Kino proper, stood with his back turned. He was immersed in reading what appeared to be some sort of blocky map. As the small animal, presumably his familiar, bounded up his leg and perched itself on his right shoulder, he stuffed the map into a pocket of his red jacket. He then turned his body steadily, until he stood facing Kino directly, and his dark eyes locked with those of the traveler.

Kino began to address him, "Excuse me–"

"!" Suddenly donning a serious expression, the boy raised one hand to tip the brim of his cap, and reached with the other to draw something from the right side of his belt.

Not underestimating the stranger for his youth, the traveler instinctively readied one hand near her own belt. This precaution, however, would prove unnecessary.

"…"

The object he drew was not a weapon but rather a harmless-looking sphere. Its surface was painted half red and half white, like a comically large fishing bobber. He stood poised with it in his outstretched palm, staring at the traveler expectantly.

Kino let her hand rest at her side and shifted her perplexed gaze to the motorrad Hermes.

"Umm, what do you think he wants, Kino?" Hermes whispered to her.

"I'm not sure," his rider replied.

"Did we enter another country? This must be some sort of greeting ritual."

"…"

Upon hearing the voice of the motorrad, the boy slowly loosened his stance and returned the sphere to a hook on his waist. From another pocket he then removed an equally foreign device resembling a small plastic tablet. When he held it aloft in Hermes's direction, a blue light on the gadget blinked twice but quickly faded, as if it were a computer trying to scan something that failed to register.

"…?"

The child's silent but curious expression was supplemented by an inquisitive cry from the animal on his shoulder: "Piiii-ka.…"

"Oh, it's talking!" Hermes remarked.

"But not in any language we know."

"Well of course. Unlike some animals, this one knows how silly it would be to talk like a person."

"Some animals, huh..."

Kino crossed her arms in contemplation, turning to give the little yellow beast another look.

"I've never seen an animal like this, though. What is it?"

In apparent response, the boy smiled subtly, and moved his arm to re-aim the blue light of his device toward his shoulder.

"A mouse Pokémon," uttered a detached, mechanical voice as the light blinked emphatically to accompany the words. (No comment would be made by the motorrad regarding this machine's capacity for speech.) "The pouches in its cheeks discharge electricity at its opponents. When several of them gather, their electricity can build and cause lightning storms."

"Really? That little guy?" Hermes mumbled, and the creature leapt lightly off the boy's shoulder to approach the bulky bike.

"Hermes, be careful," Kino warned.

"Huh? Why?"

"Metal is a conductor. That kind of power could probably fry a bike like you."

"Don't even joke about that, Kino! What if that's happened before?"

"Pika-a-a!" As it spoke, sure enough, visible sparks sizzled at its rosy cheeks.

"H-hey there," Hermes engaged the creature with caution. "I'm not your opponent, right? We can be friends! What's your name?"

"Pika-chu."

"Pikachu. Well, that's kind of cute."

Kino cast him a doubtful look. "Hermes, those are the same noises it was making before. That's probably not its name."

"It could be," Hermes countered. "You never know."

While the mouse and the motorcycle were becoming acquainted, the young boy stood in calm silence.

"Oh! How about you?" offered Hermes, in the continued interest of being friendly.

"…" Lips sealed shut, the boy looked at the mechanical speaker but made no move to answer.

"Sheesh," the motorcycle muttered. "He's a normal little kid, but the way he doesn't talk makes him seem so mysterious."

"Don't give him a hard time, Hermes," Kino said. "There are a lot of normal reasons for being silent."

"Like what?"

"Mm… I don't know," she returned wryly. "You'd have to ask the person."

"But he won't answer!" cried Hermes, growing frustrated.

"I can't speak for him…"

"SOMEONE'S GOT TO!"

"…but for example, some people might just like to listen, and observe."

Kino glanced to the boy for confirmation, but he only shook his head in a manner that seemed to communicate no.

"People who observe?" the motorrad mused. Promptly, he was able to settle down and accept the situation. "If that's the case, I bet you could cut it in that role."

"What?"

"You, Kino. I could see you as a – what do they call 'em? – a silent perfectionist."

"…Protagonist?" Kino guessed, although she felt the title unfitting.

"Yeah, that."

"That's not your way of telling me to be quiet, is it?" At the silly notion, the traveler couldn't help but smile. "To think, a talking motorrad would complain that his human partner talks too much."

"–!"

Although he still said nothing, Kino sensed the boy somehow reacting to her words. "Hm?"

"Ooh. I think it was when you said partner," Hermes proposed.

"Pi-pikapi." The creature bolted forward a few more steps, and raised a paw proudly in the air.

"I see," Kino said to the child. "So this is your partner."

He responded with a clear nod. Yes.

The partnership in which Kino was involved had a particular nature: The vehicle provided the speed while the rider provided the balance. By cooperating, they were able to reach much greater distances than either alone. She would have been interested to know the nature of the partnership between this child and his unusual animal, but recognized that there may not be time enough to discern it. The pair, after all, seemed also to be on a journey. The inherent truth about travelers who pass on the road was that they wouldn't be together for very long.

"Would you mind if I asked you something else?" she addressed the boy, and was met with an attentive gaze which she interpreted as consent.

The consent felt necessary because the question she intended to ask was the kind which she personally would not like to receive. It was a question whose answer was often impossible to verbalize– but perhaps this child, then, could express it more effectively.

"Are you traveling for a certain purpose?"

The response he returned was positive.

He again drew out the tablet-like device that had earlier spoken in his stead. This time he held it inside-out, making visible an electronic display screen on its opposite surface. His yellow friend, jumping vigorously to reach, assisted by pawing at various buttons on the device, and this action prompted images of even more outlandish creatures than itself to flash across the screen in sequence.

Many bore features familiar of domestic animals, but enhanced with elements of fantasy– unnatural colors, unprecedented hybridism. The beasts in the images seemed almost too strange to be real, yet too realistic to be mere drawings.

Though not entirely understanding the significance of the images, Kino posed one last question. "Is this something that a lot of people do, where you come from?"

Yes. The child delivered one last silent answer.

"A land of people who go on journeys. I'd like to visit that place someday," Kino noted to herself. "Or maybe we're already in it."


In the boy's left hand rested the sphere he had flaunted at the beginning of the encounter. As he turned to leave toward the west, Hermes called out to him, "Catch ya later, Red!"

"Red?" Kino repeated dubiously.

"Well, he didn't say his name, but he was dressed in red."

"That's probably not his name."

"It could be," Hermes countered. "You never know."

Kino thought about it for a moment, then shrugged with resignation. "I guess it could be."

She gripped Hermes's handles from the side and they reoriented themselves toward the east.

"Hey, what's that?"

Moments later, from behind their backs they felt a strong gust of air, strong enough to kick up the tightly packed dust on the path into a heavy cloud. By the time the traveler whirled her head toward the source, the boy was nowhere to be seen...

...only the receding form of the same large, winged figure she had witnessed before. Now, surely, it carried the shape of a person upon its back.

"Kino, did that kid just–!?"

"…" It was Kino's turn to be speechless, experiencing a pang of a feeling that might be called envy.

Her widened eyes followed the figure until it faded into the horizon.

As the figure finally faded, so did the feeling.

"Hm." Kino reverted her attention back to her own reliable transportation and smiled. She hoisted herself onto Hermes's seat, simply sat for a few moments without starting the engine, and said, "Today, we were a part of someone else's travels."

"Mmhm," the motorrad agreed.

"That seems to be happening a lot lately." Kino recalled another boy, along with a partner of his own, with whom they had also recently crossed paths. She wondered inconclusively at the sheer number of travelers who shared this road – on similar journeys – on different journeys.

"Do think you think maybe this one was a biographer?"

Kino raised an eyebrow and waited for a hint of elaboration.

"Y'know," Hermes continued, "because of all those pictures he was collecting."

"Photographer," Kino corrected. "Well, I wonder if those were pictures of what he's seen, or what he wants to see."

She shifted her weight on the seat.

"Either way, you might be right. He did strike me as some sort of…" For once, Kino thought, Hermes had chosen what felt like precisely the right word: "…collector."

"So then you two are different," said Hermes. "You're not collecting anything, Kino."

"Meetings," she responded readily. "Stories, and meetings. If that counts."

The traveler took in a deep breath and gave another look at the clear blue sky, now naturally dotted with the tiny dark forms of several more birds. Normal birds.

Probably.

"Well then Hermes, are we ready to get moving?"