The Sky Dash Delivery illustration
Short Stories / Action · Sky Race / Delivery

The Sky Dash Delivery

A seven-minute sky delivery turns the whole city into a race.

Level 4510 words

The capsule hit the rooftop table and bounced once.

Sota stared at it. The golden light inside was pulsing like a tiny sunrise.

A girl on a hoverboard landed beside him with a grin so bright it felt illegal.

"You are Sota, right?" she said. "Great. You are my emergency partner."

"I am what?"

"Emergency partner." She tapped the capsule. "This has to reach Sky Gate Twelve in seven minutes, or the final race is canceled."

Sota looked over the edge of the rooftop. Glass bridges, floating gardens, and delivery lanes twisted through the blue afternoon sky.

"I do not ride hoverboards."

"Today you do." She held out her hand. "I'm Rika. Try not to scream directly into my ear."

Before Sota could refuse, three rival couriers shot past them. Their boards left streaks of pink and green light.

One of them shouted, "Too slow, Rika!"

Rika's smile changed.

It became dangerous.

"Hold the capsule," she said.

Sota grabbed it with both hands. Rika pulled him onto the back of her board, kicked off the roof, and dropped straight into the open sky.

Sota screamed.

"Not my ear!" Rika yelled, laughing.

The hoverboard leveled out between two towers. Wind slapped Sota's face. Below them, the city flashed by in layers: cafes on balconies, school courts on rooftops, trains sliding through transparent tubes.

For one wild second, fear and excitement became the same feeling.

A red drone appeared ahead and projected a barrier across the lane.

"Obstacle," Sota shouted.

"Opportunity," Rika said.

She tilted the board sideways. They slid along the edge of the barrier, sparks flying beneath their feet, then burst through a gap so narrow that Sota felt the heat on his sleeve.

The rival couriers were still ahead.

Rika clicked her tongue. "They know the official route."

"Then take an unofficial one."

She glanced back. "You say that like a person who has never been blamed for property damage."

Sota pointed at a line of floating festival balloons tied between two towers. "Can we use those?"

Rika's eyes lit up.

"That is either brilliant or extremely stupid."

"Which one?"

"We will know in ten seconds."

She launched the board upward. The city fell away. They shot over the balloons, bounced on the invisible maintenance field above them, and flew like a stone skipped across sunlight.

The rivals looked up too late.

Rika and Sota landed in front of them with thirty seconds left.

Sky Gate Twelve opened ahead, a ring of white metal floating above the stadium. Thousands of spectators were waiting below. The final race teams stood frozen on the start line.

A gust of wind hit them from the side.

The capsule slipped from Sota's hands.

His body moved before his brain did.

He jumped.

Rika grabbed his jacket with one hand and steered with the other. Sota caught the capsule in midair. For a heartbeat, he was hanging above the whole city, holding a tiny sunrise.

Then Rika pulled him back onto the board.

They crashed through Sky Gate Twelve with two seconds left.

The stadium exploded in cheers.

Rika lay on the board, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

Sota looked at the sky, at the capsule, at his shaking hands.

"I hate hoverboards," he said.

Rika grinned. "Same time tomorrow?"

Sota opened his mouth to say no.

What came out was, "Maybe."