“Only specialists need to know the difference. Don’t worry about it, baku.”
“Ahh.” It wasn’t worth pursuing every weird custom and law he heard about from the magical realms—Seiya had learned that well, over the past six months.
“I’m a Fairy of Time. I used to run a little fortune-telling corner here at Sanami Amusement Park, baku. Bacross’s Superdimensional Fortune-Telling Hut. It was very popular. Have you heard of it, baku?”
“Sorry,” Seiya said politely, “but no.”
“I see...” Bacross slumped over. “It’s my job to show visitors dreams about the future, baku. Just a tiny glimpse, of course... and only the good stuff, baku.”
“Hmm.”
“You know, like getting a good score on an upcoming test, going on a date with a girl you like, getting a game you wanted as a present... that sort of thing, baku. I make the customers feel good, and I get animus in return, so it’s win-win, baku.”
“I see,” Seiya said thoughtfully. “I think I get it.”
“Hmm. You’re quick on the uptake, I see. I suppose that’s why you’re AmaBri’s manager, baku.”
Seiya knitted his brow. “You know who I am?”
“It’s hard to explain,” the tapir told him. “You could say I’ve always known, or that I’ll learn someday. It’s also possible that later, I’ll never have known it, baku.”
“...?” Seiya was unsure of what to make of Bacross’s statement.
“I’m a Fairy of Time. I perceive the future and past as one, baku,” Bacross explained. “So even though, chronologically speaking, I might not yet have learned that you’re AmaBri’s manager, I may hear about it in the future, which means I already know it, baku.”
“Hmm...”
“Doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No, I think I get it.” He wasn’t lying; Seiya really did comprehend what Bacross was saying. He had contemplated, in the past, the mysteries of future dreams and premonitions. He’d had an experience like that when he was ten, and his paternal grandfather, in Kumamoto, had died of a sudden illness.
The day before, the grandfather had appeared in Seiya’s dream, even though they hadn’t seen each other in years, and he barely ever thought about the man. The grandfather had only said things like “Are you doing well?” and “I saw you on TV” and “Don’t push yourself too hard,” and then left. The next day, Seiya heard the news of his grandfather’s death.
It was a fairly common story, and now he’d been through it himself. Before then, he’d always assumed such tales were just people’s minds playing tricks on them, but he’d changed his tune after that. Though of course, he still didn’t have his own explanation.
Several years later, then, when he was reading an article about Einstein, Seiya had remembered the dream about his grandfather. The article was explaining how the passage of time was really just a human construct, so if future and past existed simultaneously... couldn’t it be possible that your consciousness in the near future could send (very important) information to yourself several hours in the past? Of course, the article didn’t go into paranormal phenomenon like he’d been through; the thought had just occurred to him as he gazed at the simple illustration of the past, present and future tied together in a loop. That experience led him to ready acceptance of Bacross’s story.
“You really are quick on the uptake,” Bacross observed.
“Hm. I’m a man of exceptional intelligence,” Seiya said with a cocky smile, brushing his bangs back with a slight movement of his fingers.
“That will speed things up, baku. It means you can get your future in order right away, baku.”
“What?” Seiya blinked.
“You can do it, right? It’s amazing, baku.”
“W-Wait... I don’t quite follow you there...”
“You don’t, baku?”
“No.”
“Ohhh. You’re less impressive than I thought, baku.”
“......” Holding back his irritation, Seiya forced himself to remain calm, and said to the tapir fairy: “It’s true that I can use something like magic. My brain also works faster than that of an average person. But I’m still just an ordinary mortal; I still need you to walk me through this so I can understand.”
“Ah, I see.” Bacross clapped his hands (well, forepaws) together. “All right... so what don’t you understand?”
“What did you mean about getting my future in order?” Seiya asked.
“Ah. What I mean is... your exceptional mana allows me to see a lot more of your distant future, baku.”
“...?” Seiya waited for the tapir to go on.
“I can’t see very far into most people’s futures,” Bacross confessed. “There’s too much that can throw it off: their surroundings; spur-of-the-moment decisions; and other elements. So when I ran my fortune-telling hut, I could only show my patrons their very short-term futures.”
“Hmm. Understandable,” Seiya commented.
“You do catch on quick, baku... but you have a very strong will, and incredible mana, too. That means you can be very purposeful in choosing your own future.”
“Oh?” That’s good to hear, Seiya thought. He’s saying that the future of a brilliant man like me is always ensured. “That sounds nice,” he said out loud. “Are you suggesting there’s some problem?”
“Your appearance yesterday caused me to see a future much more distant than what I usually do. It was an exceptional circumstance, baku.”
“Okay, but seriously,” Seiya said. “What’s the problem?” That means my future success is assured. What’s wrong with that? There can’t be any problem with it.
Bacross let out a sigh. “We seem to be talking past each other...”
“Are we?”
“I think you might actually be very stupid, baku.”
“Hey,” Seiya objected.
The Fairy of Time, Bacross, pulled an old-fashioned pocket-watch from nowhere in particular. “Wind the hands of the watch, baku.”
“...?”
“It will let you see the same future I do, baku. Start by turning it just a little—bits at a time, okay?
“Hmm...” Seiya was worried that it might be some kind of trap. But there was nothing obviously malicious in Bacross’s behavior, so he took the pocket-watch and began to turn the dial protruding from the top. The hands of the watch moved. He did as he was told, moving it slowly at first.
And then instantly, the pathetic ruins surrounding them—“Old Sanami Amusement Park”—transformed into a shining theme park.
× × ×
Fireworks sang out against the April sunlight. A colorful banner strung across the entrance read, “Welcome to Sanami Brilliant Park!”
At 10:00 AM an alarm sounded out, and the crowd—a huge crowd—of guests swarmed through that shining new gate. People fought to be the first one in, and TV stations came to report on it.
The cast met the people with the exact same smiles from their Amagi City days. Moffle was there; so were Macaron and Tiramii. Elementario, too, greeted the guests with open arms.
The guests loved all their new attractions—magnificent structures, every bit as good as the ones they’d had in Amagi City. To build a park like this in such a short time—the new AmaBri was really something! So many smiles. So much animus. The cast was overjoyed.
The acting manager’s—i.e., Seiya’s—decision had been the correct one. Why hadn’t he just done this from the start? The plan to leave Amagi City had seemed a risky move, but this proved that he’d been right to do it!
The Mogute Clan had worked hard to build a new Maple Castle—more whimsical, beautiful, luxurious, all-digitized, and green-integrated—for Latifah to live in luxury. The first day’s massive attendance had energized her, too. The only issue was that she couldn’t make croquettes on a gas stove anymore; the stove was induction.
In the two weeks following, Sanami Brilliant Park hit record-setting attendance. The launch was perfect! Everyone was happy. It was a roaring success.
The only sour note was the fact that a few people, like Kenjuro and Kobory, who had been against the move from the start, couldn’t be with them. They’d managed to solve the Kenjuro problem by having the shark Jaw fill in for the dolphin, and they hired a new dancer to replace Kobory. She had long black hair and a similar look—she was also a much better dancer than Kobory.