On the day the amusement park opened, Seia stood on the observation deck and suddenly asked me an age-old question: “Can we prove that those who reach paradise are real?” If paradise truly existed, those who arrived would never leave. If someone left, that would mean it was never true paradise.
I pointed to the brightly lit place below. “The paradise you’re talking about and the one we built aren’t the same thing at all, are they?”
This is our story. From a school on the brink of closure with a debt of 700 million, to the biggest amusement park in all of Kivotos. From no one believing in us, to everyone being here.
Hina rode the roller coaster and said only, “Not bad” (supposedly her highest praise). Mika snuck flower seeds and ran five laps with Nagisa chasing her, but Nagisa never caught up. Mutsuki kept improving her dangerous bombs until she could make “cupcakes” that burst into sunset colors. The Problem Solver 68 crew saved up for ages to build a fountain. Shiroko always saved the back seat of her bike for me.
Sensei calls it “swimsuit philosophy.” I think it’s just a bunch of idiots building sandcastles. But as we kept at it, this desert really did sprout roller coasters, an observation deck, flower beds, a fountain, and a notebook with a new rule written inside: “If the original owner comes back, give her food and drinks, and let off little cakes.”
This is the park we built. It isn’t some “paradise” from a philosophical debate. It’s a real place that grew right here in the sand, a place where people can laugh.
