Apparently, in this town, sunny winter days are designated as Paru-picking days. Last time, it overlapped with a day off from work, so Father and Turi went Paru picking, but today Father has to work.
I thought surely this time they'd give up on Paru, but Mother reached for her coat.
"I'm going with Turi today."
Paru is a precious winter food source, and for me, it's a fruit that yields creamy coconut milk, olive oil, and slightly sweet okara.
Once I realized that the leftover pulp after extracting the oil could be used as a substitute for okara, the menu expanded a little. That's apparently why Mother is more motivated than ever.
Oh right, the okara hotcakes I made at
Lutz's family has more ingredients than ours, plenty of boys for labor, and is just a really easy environment for cooking.
The okara hotcakes—ah, did we end up calling them Paru cake? —the Paru cake was well received, and the mayonnaise made from Paru oil, egg yolk, and salt, as well as the potato salad seasoned with that mayonnaise and salt, were also big hits.
...If I was going to be reincarnated anyway, maybe I should have ended up as one of Lutz's kids.
Paru has quite a few uses, so I want as much of it as possible for our household too. Which means that as someone who's basically useless when it comes to going outside, the least I can do is offer my full support.
Go, go, Turi! Don't lose, don't lose, Mom!
However, with Mother and Turi heading into the forest, the family is stuck with the problem of what to do with me. I have no stamina, I'm sickly, and I'm useless. They can't exactly take me to the winter forest. On top of that, they apparently can't trust me to stay home alone without knowing what trouble I might cause, so leaving me behind isn't an option either.
Isn't that a little harsh?
While pondering this over breakfast, Father, who'd been muttering thoughtfully, clapped his hands together while getting ready for work.
"...That's it! Mine, how about you wait with me at the Gate?"
Father would take me to the Gate. Mother and Turi would head to the forest to pick Paru. Then, on their way back, they'd pick me up at the Gate. That way, the two of them could go to the forest worry-free, and I wouldn't have to stay home alone.
"Oh, that's a great idea. Let's do that! Okay, Mine, you're in Father's care, so I'm heading out, Turi."
"Yep! I'll come pick you up later, Mine."
Mother praised Father profusely for the brilliant idea, quickly prepared everything they needed, and headed out with Turi in the blink of an eye.
Apparently, Paru can only be harvested until around midday, so you have to get there as early as possible.
I think it means they'll be picked clean almost instantly. They're such a delicious and useful fruit after all.
"Well then, shall we head to the Gate?"
Standing guard at the Gate, huh.
At least it's a change of scenery from being at home. If
To be honest, even I'm getting tired of being at home. All I can do while stuck here is play on my slate or weave baskets. I never imagined that simply not having books would leave me with this much free time on my hands.
Incidentally, the songs that have been playing in my head a lot lately are "Come, Spring" and "Radio Calisthenics." Spring needs to hurry up and arrive, or I won't be able to go outside to make clay tablets.
And to build up stamina so I can go outside, I've started doing radio calisthenics every day. My family looks at me a bit strangely for it, but I think it's important to do what you can, step by step, to improve your physical fitness.
If I'm being completely honest, I wasn't exactly health-conscious back in
"Oh, Father. Will Otto be at the Gate today?"
"Ah, he should be?"
"Hooray!"
Now I have something to look forward to while standing guard at the Gate. I hurriedly began preparing as well. The essential item for an outing is my slate. I got dressed, put on my coat, and slipped my slate into the tote bag I'd knitted myself during winter, and my preparations were complete.
"Father, let's go!"
"...Mine, do you really like Otto that much?"
"Yep, I love him."
I mean, the guy gave me a slate and self-appointed himself as my writing teacher. There's no way I wouldn't like him, right?
Honestly, I like him more than Father. Well, to be completely honest about that, it could cause rifts in our relationships, so let's keep a zipper on that.
"Freezing!"
Once we stepped outside, the air itself was so cold that even the slightest breeze on my skin stung like it might cut right through.
The face of someone as chronically lazy as me actually tingled enough today that I'm thinking I really should make some kind of moisturizing cream if I can get Paru oil.
On top of that, the snow was so deep I couldn't walk. There might be a trick to walking in it, but as someone who didn't grow up in a snowy region, I have no idea how to walk on snow.
After just two steps, my short little legs were buried and I couldn't move anymore. I had no idea what to do next.
"Fa-ther! How do I walk in this?"
"...Never mind. Just try not to fall over."
With my feet buried, I was holding my arms out stiffly to maintain balance when Father, who had been walking ahead, came back with an exasperated look on his face.
He slipped my tote bag onto his own wrist, slid his arm under my side, and hoisted me up high onto his shoulder.
"High up. So cool!"
The view was much higher than when
"You hold on properly with your own strength, okay?"
"Okaaay."
It had been so long since I'd been given a shoulder ride that my heart was racing a little. When I clung to Father's head, he started walking through the snow. The narrow alley that hadn't been shoveled much, he navigated cautiously step by step, following the footprints of others. Once we reached the main road, he started walking normally.
"Mine, Otto is already married, you know?"
Father, who had been walking in silence, suddenly opened his mouth, and that's what came out.
Huh? Did I say I wanted to be Otto's bride? I've never said I wanted to be Father's bride either.
"Umm... so, what about it?"
"That guy only has marriage on his brain, you know?"
What kind of warning is this to your five-year-old daughter, you idiot dad! ...Can I chop him on the head while delivering my retort?
"So what?"
"..."
Oh, come on! Silent treatment here?! How frustrating!
I'm going to deliberately not read the room here. There is absolutely no way I'm telling this annoying father "You're more wonderful, Father" or "I like Father better."
"So you're saying Otto is a devoted man who cherishes his wife, which is wonderful?"
"...No."
Father had completely sulked, and from then on, he walked in total silence. Still on his father's shoulder ride, carried along by this exasperating man, I arrived at the Gate.
"Good morning."
I reflexively bowed to the Soldier standing at the Gate out of habit. For a moment, I was looked at strangely, and I remembered that in this world, bowing as a greeting isn't customary.
Or maybe it was strange because I was bowing from atop my father's shoulders.
"
"Understood."
"Mine, you'll be in the guardroom. Otto's there too, so that works, right?"
Whoa, his voice sounded kind of sharp. Huh? Could he be jealous of Otto on a level that rivals Mother's? Are relationships getting complicated?
"I'm just looking forward to Otto teaching me new letters, that's all."
"...It wouldn't have to be Otto specifically."
Sorry, Otto. I tried to smooth things over, but it seems to have made things worse.
I was just excited about getting to learn new letters, and now I have no idea where Father's thoughts are wandering.
"Let's go in."
Father gave a light knock and opened the guardroom door.
The guardroom had a roaring fire in the fireplace and a lamp on the desk, making it much brighter than our home. There was a desk relatively close to the fireplace, and Otto was doing paperwork there.
"Otto."
"Squad Leader... and Mine? What's going on?"
"Mine will be waiting here while they pick Paru. Watch over her."
He said it succinctly—no, more like imperiously—and then Father set me down from his shoulder.
Faced with the sudden addition of a babysitting job, Otto naturally gaped, looking back and forth between his documents and Father's face in complete bewilderment.
"Huh? No, but, I... have the accounting report and the budget..."
"Mine, it's warm in here. Be careful not to catch a cold."
"Okaaay."
Father left without seeming to hear a single word Otto said, and I waved goodbye before turning to Otto.
"Sorry about that, Otto."
"Huh?"
"I was happy I got to receive a slate, and then when I thought I'd get to see you today too, I got even happier."
"That's good. I'm happy to see Mine too, but..."
He smiled with a hint of embarrassment, then made a puzzled expression. "There's no reason to apologize, is there?"
"Actually, I praised Otto, and Father got jealous and..."
"...Ahaha..."
"I'll be quiet until Mother comes to pick me up, so will you teach me the new letters?"
Seeing parchment and ink laid out on the desk, I could tell he'd been in the middle of paperwork. I don't want to interfere with his work, but I'm not going to pass up a chance to learn new letters either.
"Well, I guess it's fine. If it's Mine, she'll probably sit quietly and practice..."
When I quickly pulled out my slate, Otto murmured as much and began scratching out letters with a stone stylus. He must have a soft spot in a strange way for the girl who spent hours playing alone with her slate the day she received it.
"Mine. If you develop a fever, the Squad Leader will get even grumpier than he already is, so sit here."
Otto smiled wryly, shifted the things on his desk little by little, and offered me the seat in front of the fireplace.
I fully agreed with that assessment, so I took the seat in front of the fireplace without any unnecessary modesty.
"Thanks. Now I can practice."
The writing system used here seems to be something like an alphabet. It's not a phonetic script like hiragana, nor is it a logographic script like kanji. The kind of writing where both pronunciation and meaning change with spelling.
For a while, the only sounds filling the room were the click-click of the stone stylus and the scratch-scratch of the pen nib running across parchment.
Once I'd memorized the characters that had been written, I looked up to find Otto focused on his parchment, calculating with intense concentration.
There was something like an abacus next to him for calculation purposes, but I have no idea how to use it.
I've only ever practiced addition and subtraction with an abacus in elementary school, so even if it works the same way, I don't think I could use it.
I waited for a natural pause in his calculations and spoke up.
"Otto, what's this?"
"It's the accounting report and budget preparation. During winter, we have to put together the annual budget and submit it by spring, but there are a lot of Soldiers who are bad at math. Since I'm the best with figures, I'm the one who ends up making the accounting reports and budget sheets."
"You've got a pretty thankless task there."
Looking at the parchment, I couldn't read it, but lined up next to each item of text were three columns of numbers. Unit price, quantity, and total, probably. The first two were being multiplied to calculate it, most likely.
Wondering if these were requisitions for supplies, I kept looking until I spotted a calculation error.
"Otto, isn't this wrong?"
"Huh?"
"This line—75 times 30, right? That should be 2,250, I think?... Oh, this one's wrong too."
I can read the numbers, but I don't know what you call a multiplication equation in this world, so my phrasing ended up being very roundabout.
"Huh? You can't read the letters, can you? So how can you do the calculation?"
"Hehehe. Mother taught me the numbers at the Market. So I can look at these numbers and do the math, but I can't read any of this."
When I said I couldn't read the characters for the items, Otto fell into deep thought. "No, but..." little murmurs leaked out.
"...Mine, I'm going to swallow my pride and ask. Could you help me?"
Is this something I should accept?
Forget classified information or confidential leaks—asking a child to help is pretty outrageous, isn't it?
Or rather, does that mean things are so desperate that they need a child's help if the child has any calculating ability at all?
If Otto is saying he needs to "swallow his pride" to ask a child for help, then it must not be normal. But since Otto is going out of his way to ask, I'd like to help if I can.
Besides, there's something I really want. So I decided to accept with a condition attached.
"Okay. I'll do it for a stone stylus replenishment and a writing tutor deal."
"...Huh?"
He probably never expected to have conditions thrust upon him by a little girl out of nowhere. Otto's eyes went wide. As expected, I smiled and explained my situation.
"Like I said before, Mother taught me the numbers, so I can do math. But I can't read the letters, so I want Otto to be my teacher."
"That's fine, but... a stone stylus? Stone styluses aren't expensive or anything..."
Otto was right. Stone styluses are sold at the general goods shop in the Market. In fact, Mother has bought one for me before. So if I wanted one, I could get one easily.
The thing is, it's hard for me to get my hands on one.
"She used to buy them for me, but when I ask Mother now, she won't buy them anymore..."
"Why not?"
"Probably because I spend all my time playing with the slate. Even if she buys one, it gets used up right away..."
"Ahahahaha..."
If you're playing for hours every day, a stone stylus wears down to nothing in no time. For someone like me who doesn't get an allowance, finding a way to replenish stone styluses is a matter of survival.
"A-anyway! I'm not the kind of girl who works for no reward at all!"
"...I'd say pretty cheap, actually."
With a wry smile, Otto officially agreed to become my teacher.
The documents turned out to be supply requisitions after all, and he'd apparently been in the middle of reviewing forms created by someone else.
"What should I do?"
"Could you check whether the calculations here are correct? I just can't figure out where the calculation errors are hiding, and verifying them one by one is killing me."
Obviously, there are no computers here. Just creating simple documents takes time, and having to verify every calculation alone is a symptom of severe personnel shortages.
"There should be a few more Soldiers who can calculate."
"...That's true, but part of the reason I was picked for this job is because I can do this..."
Apparently there's some backstory to how Otto became a Soldier. Starving for information and knowledge as I am, I'm itching to hear the details.
But since the verification work was enormous, I held back and decided to save the idle chat for another time.
"Mine, do you want to use a calculator?"
"No thanks, I don't know how to use one. I've got my slate."
A slate where you can write and erase is extremely convenient for use as scratch paper. I used the slate and did the calculations by hand to help out.
He seemed to have the numbers completely memorized—whenever I thought of a number like nine, he was able to write the correct digit in each spot.
"This is awesome. So easy. I'm impressed. Seriously, you saved me. I never thought the verification would finish this fast. With this kind of calculation ability, Mine, you might have what it takes to be a merchant. If you want to become one, I could introduce you to the commercial guild, you know?"
Apparently, he'd been doing the accounting reports and budget preparation by himself for the past several years, so just from having someone help with verification, Otto was overwhelmingly grateful.
Once I can mass-produce books, getting an introduction to the commercial guild to open a bookstore might not be a bad idea. I'd unexpectedly gained a connection.
At the same time, I'd apparently earned recognition as Otto's valuable assistant.
"Mine, if you want to learn the characters seriously, I could drill them into you for real? That way, next year you'd be able to help with document preparation too."
"Really?! Yay!"
"Huh? You're actually happy about that?"
Otto's eyes went wide in surprise, but if he's going to teach me letters for real, of course I'm happy! Helping with document preparation means getting to touch parchment, right? It means being able to write with ink, right?
That's a wonderful thing, isn't it?
"Mine, sorry to keep you waiting."
"Let's go."
It was time to head home.
Today, for the first time in a long while, I got to do a large batch of calculations, and got some good brain exercise. Like after reading a huge number of books, there was a pleasant numbing fatigue deep in the back of my mind.
It turned out to be a very fulfilling day.
"Otto, thank you. I appreciate everything."
"The pleasure was mine. You really helped me out."
"Well then, Father. Good luck at work."
"Hm."
Time had passed, but Father's mood was still bad. If anything, had it gotten worse since this morning?
Why?
Otto, who teaches me letters and could be a connection to the commercial guild, is an important key person from now on.
I want to get along with him, but Father's jealousy has reached a level where I need to worry.
Next time, I'll finish Turi's festive clothing.