I was lying in a fever, plotting how to terrify
I was so close!
I was so close to getting my hands on a book!
If I couldn't go to the forest and clay was banned, I'd never get a book again.
Honestly, inviting them to a Japanese-style horror experience seemed like the best way to leave some lasting trauma.
I had no idea what people in this world were afraid of, but what if I let my hair down and went full Sadako, muttering grudges and complaints? Or like Bancho Saraibashiyama, I could count clay tablets one by one... How about that? Not scary?
I'd gone to all that trouble, but when my fever finally broke and I got up the next morning, Father came home with a complicated look on his face and, for some reason, lifted the forest ban.
"...Tomorrow."
"Hmm?"
"Tomorrow, you can go to the forest."
"Huh? I can go to the forest? Why?"
"...You don't sound very happy about it."
I was glad I could go to the forest, but my carefully planned Japanese horror project was completely ruined. I'd even practiced muttering grudges under my breath and brainstormed ghostly outfits. I'd been on the verge of working on staging and settings too. Should I use a well? Or have them emerge from an alley...?
"I'm not unhappy, but..."
"But what?"
"...I went to all the trouble of coming up with plans... Isn't it a waste?"
"It's NOT a waste! Throw those plans out right now!"
"Tch..."
Well, if I could go to the forest and finish my clay tablets, I didn't need plans anyway. I'd obviously ditch them the moment I got there, since it would be a waste of time to goof around with Fey and his crew instead.
But still, what could have happened to make him change his mind so suddenly?
"I'm letting you go only after checking your condition, so tomorrow. This is non-negotiable!"
"Yeees."
He wouldn't be so reckless as to send me straight into the forest right after I'd been sick. I knew better than anyone how fragile this body was.
Since he said I could go if my fever didn't come back that day, I started preparing for tomorrow with my heart racing.
I found some boards of unknown purpose in the storage shed and put them in the basket as a base. Then I grabbed a big armful of old rags that Mom had set aside for cleaning cloths and stuffed them into the basket too. I'd wrap the clay tablets in these and carry them home.
Alright, clay tablets, here I come! I'll make you, make you, make you till my hands fall off!
I psyched myself up and got out of bed, only to find torrential rain.
Not just any rain—record-breaking downpours for this area. A storm that felt like a typhoon.
Even with the wooden shutters closed, I could hear the wind and rain.
"Gwoahh! Rain?!"
In a world without weather forecasts, weather was the last thing on my mind. More accurately, I spent most of my time collapsed with fevers, and my family only let me outside when they decided it was safe. I'd never had to worry about the weather before.
Images of clay tablets melting into mush in the rain flashed through my mind. Even if they were hidden under the bushes, no way they'd survive a storm like this.
Ngyaaahh!
My clay tablets! They're going to turn into mush!
"Hey, Mine! Where do you think you're going?!"
"The forest!"
I almost bolted outside, but Mom caught me in a headlock and held me back.
"You're already prone to fevers, and you want to go out in this storm?! What are you thinking?! You can't even make it to the well!"
Even with the shutters latched, the rain and wind battering them echoed loudly through the house, showing just how fierce the storm was.
If ordinary people hesitated to go to the well, there was no way I could go outside. I collapsed onto the spot, utterly defeated.
"My clay tablets... ugh..."
"It's okay, Mine. Everyone said they'd help this time, so it'll be way easier and faster than before."
Turi patted my drooping head and comforted me. Turi really was the best big sister.
The rare downpour lasted two days, and it was another two days before the children were allowed to go to the forest.
On a clear morning, when we could finally head to the forest for the first time in days, every child's face was glowing.
Today there were no apprentice jobs, so the older kids came out in force—far more than usual.
"Yo, Mine. Fever gone?"
"Morning, Ralph. Dad said I was fine to go, and then the storm hit the very next day."
"That was rough."
He ruffled my hair and headed over to Turi.
"Yo, Turi."
"Ralph, feels like it's been forever."
He'd started his work apprenticeship, and it showed—he looked more mature than before. And Turi, whom I'd been polishing for the
Excuse me, but don't these two look great together?
Both Ralph and Turi were great with kids. I really thought they'd make a perfect match.
While I was gazing at them with hearts in my eyes, Lutz grabbed my arm and yanked.
"Wha—?!"
"Mine, don't zone out. You're the slowest, so you're leading the group. Let's go."
"Oh, sorry."
The children walked in a group toward the forest and passed through the Gate. Where the scenery should have been lush with greenery, the storm had left its scars, and farmland was battered in places.
Come to think of it, did this world have any kind of disaster compensation?
I was shuffling along, staring blankly at the scenery, when Lutz waved his hand in front of my face.
"Huh? What?"
"Just making sure you're still with us. Hey, Mine. You're making those clay tablets again today, right? What are they for?"
Even though they weren't written in Japanese, Lutz couldn't read letters, so he had no idea what was on them. Beyond that, this was a world where people lived without text or paper in their homes. He couldn't possibly know how wonderful a recording medium like a clay tablet was.
I felt a strange sense of missionary zeal—I absolutely had to spread the word—and launched into an explanation.
"It's something where you write down things you don't want to forget. If you write it properly, you won't forget, right? And if you store it well, you can look at it anytime. A 'recording medium' exists for exactly that purpose, and the 'clay tablet' is one type of recording medium. You can make it by kneading clay, and if you make a mistake, you can smooth it out with your finger and erase the writing. And if you fire it, it'll last forever. Pretty amazing, right?"
My rapid-fire explanation left Lutz gaping with his mouth slightly open and his head tilted.
"...I don't really get it. So what did you write, Mine?"
"A story. One Mom told me. If I write it down, I won't forget, right? I really want a book, but there aren't any here, so I'm going to make one myself."
"Huh. So that's what you want to do?"
When Lutz asked that, it suddenly made me think.
Right now, there wasn't a single book anywhere around me, so I was trying to figure out how to make one. But making books wasn't really what I wanted to do.
"Um, not exactly. What I really want is to live surrounded by books. I want new books coming out every month, and I want to get my hands on all of them and just read to my heart's content."
"So... you want books...?"
"Yes! Desperately. Right now. But they're expensive and completely out of reach, so I have no choice but to make them myself. Paper is expensive too, so I'm making clay tablets, writing stories on them, and firing them."
At that, Lutz clapped his hands together in understanding.
"So you're making something in place of books?"
"Yep! I messed up last time, but this time I'm definitely going to succeed."
"Yeah, I'll help."
He'd cooperated this much based on something I'd come up with on a whim, and I wanted to help him in return.
"So what about you, Lutz? If you're asking me, you must have something you want to do too."
"Me... huh. I'd like to visit other towns. Traveling Merchants and bards go to all sorts of places and know all kinds of stories, right? I want to see a lot of different things too."
"That's nice."
Come to think of it, I'd dreamed of visiting libraries in all sorts of countries and reading to my heart's content.
I quietly lowered my gaze, picturing a dream that could never come true again.
"...Do you really mean that? You'd want to leave this town?"
"Ah, traveling does sound fun. Going here and there—it seems like a blast. I always dreamed of touring 'libraries' around the 'world,' you know... for the longest time..."
"Ha... I feel like an idiot for even hesitating. ...You'd definitely go after whatever you really want to do, wouldn't you, Mine?"
"You should go after yours too, Lutz."
Back when I was Urano, my mind had been so full of dreams and things I wanted to do that I didn't even notice what expression Lutz had on his face at that moment.
We finally walked along the dry road and arrived at the forest.
A slightly open area just inside the forest was our gathering spot.
"Alright, everyone, go collect what you can. Little ones, don't go too far. Make sure you stay where you can see this gathering spot. Got it?"
The older kids said their piece, then took off with bows and arrows into the depths of the forest.
The younger kids kept glancing my way.
Just arriving at the forest had already worn me out, but I wanted to check on my clay tablets right away, so I scanned the area.
"Hey, does anyone know where the 'clay tablets' were?"
I couldn't find the tree I'd marked. It had been so many days I thought maybe I'd just forgotten, but everyone looked around in confusion.
"You marked a tree around that area, right?" Fey asked.
His lackeys all nodded in unison. Fey was pointing at a spot I'd estimated too—several trees had been knocked flat by the storm.
"I've got a rough idea of where. We just have to search."
Lutz started looking under the bushes, and soon everyone joined in, combing the area together.
Not just Fey and his crew, but everyone was helping... Everyone was just too nice.
"Hey, isn't this it?"
The marker tree was broken, making it hard to find, but Fey squatted down and waved his hand vigorously.
I rushed over at top speed and peered in. There was a lump of dirt, collapsed beyond recognition. Just as I'd expected—it was a mushy mess, and the carved letters were completely gone. The clay tablet had reverted to a lump of dirt.
Ah, back to square one again.
"This—this time it's not like I destroyed it, okay?!"
"...Yeah."
Fey blurted out his excuse in a panic, but I didn't really need him to tell me that. I could hear everyone around us buzzing, debating whether to say something comforting or not. I knew they were worried, but the tears just wouldn't stop.
When I let out a whimpering sob, footsteps approached. They stopped right next to me, and then—pat—I felt a light tap on my head.
"Mine, if you've got time to cry, let's just make it again."
Lutz's voice pulled my consciousness back to the surface.
He was right. With Fey and the others willing to help, I should make another one while they were here.
I snotted into my sleeve and lifted my head.
I'm not losing!
The first cause of failure: human error from Fey's gang.
The second: the time limit before the lockdown.
The third: the storm.
I'd experienced both human error and natural disasters. There couldn't be any more causes for failure than this. I was going to finish this come hell or high water.
The clay itself was still there in a lump—I just needed to knead it into a tablet and I could start writing. And even if I ran short, I remembered roughly where more clay could be found. Compared to last time, when I'd had to dig for clay from scratch, this was an entirely different starting point.
I was fine. I hadn't completely gone back to zero.
From past failures, I'd learned that I needed to finish in one go on a clear day, or work somewhere with a roof.
Today the weather was on my side, and by fully deploying tears and anger, I'd either guilt-tripped my assistants or ridden the momentum—either way, I'd ended up with three extra helpers bursting with energy and enthusiasm.
With this many people helping, I could surely make them without spending too much time.
"I only need Lutz and Fey's crew for help. Turi, go gather things."
"Got it. ...Good luck, everyone!"
"Thanks!"
Turi's encouragement lifted my spirits, and I took another crack at making clay tablets.
Fey and Lackey #1 dug up clay for me. Lutz and Lackey #2 kneaded it and shaped the tablets.
All I had to do was carve the letters with a thin wooden stick.
Mm-hmm, good pace.
"I needed ten clay tablets to write the story, so once I've got that many, you can go gather. Thanks!"
"Oh, sure."
One after another, shaped clay tablets lined up. Fey and his crew finished all ten in no time and raced off to collect materials.
And yet, Lutz started digging up more clay.
"Lutz, aren't you going?"
"Ralph's here today, so I'm sticking around to help you."
"Oh. Well, I don't need more clay, so here—practice writing on the ground with this?"
I stuck the wooden stick I'd been using to carve letters into the rain-softened ground and wrote "Lutz" in the dirt.
"What's this?"
"Your name. If you want to go to other towns, you should at least be able to write your own name."
People from this town could basically get in and out of the Gate on face recognition alone, but when entering other towns, they'd be asked for their name and sometimes made to write it down.
In practice, locals and outsiders waited in different lines at the Gate, and outsiders were checked more thoroughly.
If Lutz ever wanted to go to another town, he should be able to write his name.
"Hey, Mine. This is my name?"
"Yep. If you want to visit lots of places, you should practice your writing."
While Lutz practiced writing his name on the ground with shining eyes, I diligently kept making clay tablets.
I carved the first story I'd ever heard in this world, in Japanese. Over and over in my heart, I repeated: I will absolutely finish this book.
"Done!"
One of the folktales Mom had told me was complete.
I wanted to keep going and make a "Mother's Folktale Collection." For me, it would be a book full of the very first stories I'd learned after coming to this world.
I wrapped the finished clay tablet in the old rags I'd brought, then carefully stacked them in the basket so they wouldn't crumble or have their writing smudged.
When I'd packed everything into the basket, I let out a long breath. My eyes burned, and tears welled up.
My first completed work.
Clay tablets were a far cry from anything you could call books—they were barely a recording medium. But no matter what anyone else said, this was the first book I'd ever gotten my hands on.
I'd come to this world at the end of autumn, and it was now the end of spring. It had taken a remarkably long time to hold my first book.
But feeling the reality that I could make books finally made me feel like I had solid ground beneath my feet.
"I can read books in this world too. ...Then it's going to be okay."
In a world where books were too expensive for commoners, and I'd been reincarnated into a sickly body that spiked fevers at the slightest provocation—I'd figured it was fine if I went a little overboard and died. I couldn't think of this frail child's body as my own, couldn't accept that this bookless world was the one I'd be living in, and couldn't muster a shred of attachment to it.
But now that I had even one book, I had something I wanted to treasure here. I felt like I'd found my own path—the way I wanted to live in this world.
"Mine, is it done?"
"Yeah. Thanks to Turi and Lutz."
Even if the affection Turi and Lutz directed at me wasn't really aimed at me but at the person called Mine, they'd been a huge help in making this book. That was a fact.
I pulled back the top cloth and showed Turi and Lutz the finished clay tablet.
"Hey, Mine. What's written on this one?"
"It's the story of the star children. The one Mom told me on the very first night."
"The first time?"
Turi furrowed her brow, puzzled.
"Yeah. The first story I remember."
It was the story Mom had whispered to me in a low voice when my fever was too high to sleep. The voice, full of love, was directed not at me but at someone who wasn't me. The words and emotions passed right through me, leaving me unable to accept them. The love that only deepened my sense of isolation—my mind utterly detached from the warmth—was profoundly unpleasant.
And yet, when I decided to make a book, this was the only story that came to mind. If Mother's bedtime story could become an important book for me, maybe I could accept the love woven into it.
"I want to record every story Mom told me so I'll never forget."
"But won't it disappear again?"
I smiled at Turi's worried face.
"If I leave it like this, it will. So I'm going to fire it to harden it. That way, I'll always be able to read Mom's stories, right?"
It had been about half a year since I started living here.
I finally felt like I could smile naturally.
...If it had ended cleanly there, it would have been a touching conclusion. But it didn't.
When I got home and eagerly fired the clay tablets—they exploded.
Yes, really.
I know it might not make sense, but I'm not lying.
I fired them in the oven, and—BOOM!
My very first book turned into dust clouds and fragments of clay, scattering everywhere.
There wasn't even time to investigate the cause. I just stood there in a daze. Mom scolded me thoroughly and made me promise never to make clay tablets again.
Huh? Am I completely back to square one?
Ah, no, well, I had completed one successfully and felt more confident emotionally, so... three steps forward, two steps back?
...What do I do next?
It had looked like a momentary success, but the clay tablets exploded.
...Yeah. If they weren't dried properly, they wouldn't work, right?
Back in elementary school, I'd tried making raku pottery, and they'd cracked during the bisque firing more often than not—because the clay hadn't been kneaded enough, or dried enough, or because impurities other than clay were mixed in.
Next is Turi's Baptism Ceremony.