"Ugh! Just when I thought I'd solved the paper problem, now it's ink?! What am I supposed to do?!"
I was used to ballpoint pens, mechanical pencils, regular pencils, and fountain pens, of course, but they didn't sell ink or even墨 around here either.
If I could use ink freely, I could just sharpen a stick and write with that. But the ink was too expensive for me to get my hands on.
I knew the price of a single stone stylus, but I had no idea how much my special bonus pay would be during budget season. I couldn't even calculate what ink would cost.
How much would three years of unpaid labor even be worth?
Buy it, find it, receive it, steal it, make it... When I thought through all the ways to obtain it, I inevitably arrived at making it.
I couldn't exactly steal it from the guardroom, after all.
It wasn't just books—it looked like I'd have to make the ink by hand, too. But how exactly was ink even made? I knew it involved pigment and drying oil, but where could I find pigment and drying oil in a place like this?
"So should I just catch an octopus or a squid or something?! Where's the nearest ocean?!"
I clenched a half-finished wooden tablet and couldn't help but shout.
"What was that all about?!"
"Lutz, what do you think ink around here is made from?! How could I make it myself?!"
I knew it wasn't realistic to travel to the ocean and hunt for octopus or squid. But I had no idea whether I could make ink or soot-based writing material from things I had around me.
"Wait, what even is ink, to begin with?"
"Um, it's a black liquid, used for writing words on boards like this..."
It was hard to explain to someone who'd never seen the kind of writing tools I was used to. As I rattled off descriptions, Lutz scratched his head and said: "Something black? If it just needs to stain, wouldn't soot or ash work?"
"That's great! Let's try it!"
Ash and soot were just leftover from burning firewood. There was plenty of it at home. I'd even been producing some today. It had to be within reach.
As soon as I got home, I asked my mother right away.
"Mom, can I use some of this ash?"
"No."
Flat rejection, instantly.
"Why not?"
"Ash is used for making soap, melting snow, dyeing fabric, selling to farmers—there are tons of uses. Don't just take it without asking."
Come to think of it, I'd been made to help scatter ash around in early spring without understanding why, and I'd spent the whole time feeling like some old geezer named Hana Saka-ji. So that was for melting snow? I only just found out.
We'd used a huge amount when making soap, too. Ash really was important.
Ash was hard to come by since any surplus could be sold. But what about the other candidate—soot? Did that have uses too?
"Then what about soot, Mom? Is that okay?"
When I proposed my second option, my mother frowned slightly, then for some reason broke into a smile and gave me permission.
"I don't know what you're planning, but soot is fine."
"Great!"
"That means you'll clean the inside of the stove, right? If you clean the chimney too, you'll collect even more!"
"Huh?! ...Ah, yeah. ...I guess that's how it works."
I was swept along by my mother's smile and ended up agreeing to clean the stove and chimney. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, but if it meant getting soot, I had no choice.
I picked up cleaning tools with renewed determination, but my mother—now looking alarmed—stopped me.
"Wait right there, Mine! You're going to clean in those clothes?!"
"...Huh? Why not?"
I couldn't see the problem. They were already filthy and tattered—what difference would it make?
While I tilted my head in confusion, my mother came over carrying a sewing box and a rag basket.
"Just wait a second, I'll make something right away."
In high spirits, my mother quickly sewed together a patchwork outfit from old rags.
I changed into my rag dress, pinned my hair up with a Hairpin despite my mother's objections so it wouldn't get dirty, and used yet another rag as a kerchief.
Wow. If I didn't pretend this was a Cinderella cosplay, I'd never be able to go through with it.
I started by scraping out the ash from the stove. Then I stuck my head inside and cleaned off the caked-on soot, collecting it as I went. Being small might have actually helped for once.
Unable to resist my mother's cheerful smile, I also cleaned the chimney and gathered the soot. Black chunks tumbled down as the inside grew cleaner, and the soot I actually wanted piled up.
Once I started, I found it surprisingly fun, and I got too carried away. The next day, I collapsed with a fever.
I was covered in soot myself and completely wiped out, but at least I'd managed to collect it. And I recovered from the illness.
Today, I wanted to turn this soot into something I could write with.
"Mine, what are you going to do with this?"
"Water, probably?"
The first thing that came to mind was to dissolve it in water. It felt like it might become something like ink. For some reason.
I put a little river water in a wooden bowl, added some soot, and stirred it around with a stick. The soot just floated on the surface without dissolving.
"Maybe this is good enough?"
"Why not try writing with it?"
At Lutz's suggestion, I dipped a sharpened stick into the mixture like a pen and tried writing the number "1" on a wooden tablet to indicate a page number.
But more of the soot stuck to the stick than transferred to the board, and the writing was so faint it was hard to read.
"No good. Total failure."
"What's next?"
"Hmm, I think dissolving it in oil is the standard way to make ink, but..."
This was something I couldn't ask my mother for.
Because vegetable oil was used both for cooking and for Simple-chan Rinshan, and we were perpetually short on it at home.
Animal oil was used for candles and soap, so I didn't expect to get any of that easily either. It would probably be rejected just as quickly as the ash.
"She uses the oil, so I can't have any, huh?"
"Yeah, no way. Is there anything else I could try..."
I searched for clues, mentally going through writing tools I'd used in
"Ah, I think 'Japanese painting' pigments used 'animal glue,' but I can't use fire here, so that's out."
In the future, animal glue might become an option, but I wasn't ready for that yet. Once I could make glue, I'd probably be able to make paint-like substances from natural materials too, which would open up a lot of possibilities. I just had to wait until I grew up enough.
"Hey, Mine, you okay? Come back to me!"
I could see Lutz waving his hand in front of my face at the edge of my vision, but I couldn't pull myself out of it just yet.
"Hmm, it doesn't have to be a liquid. There are things like 'crayons' and 'chalk' and 'pencils'... That's it, clay! Let me mix it with clay!"
"Huh?"
"I'm pretty sure 'pencil lead' was made from 'graphite' mixed with clay. Or was it 'conté crayons'? Oh well. It's not graphite, it's soot, but it might work!"
I mixed clay and soot together, rolled it into a thin cylinder, and let it dry. If it hardened, I might be able to write with it.
"Lutz, the clay we used to make the clay tablets—did you dig it from around that area?"
"You don't even need to dig. There should be leftover clay from when we didn't use it all, sitting near that rock."
Sure enough, just as Lutz said, the clay had formed a small mound.
I took some of it, mixed in soot, and kneaded it together. The idea was like a Crayola or pencil lead. If touching it didn't make my hands pitch black, the color wouldn't work.
I shaped the Soot Pencil into a thin cylinder while getting both my hands and the stone I was using as a work surface completely black. Then I cut it into pieces about the length of a pencil.
If it dried and hardened, this would be a success.
I washed my hands and feet in the river, but they barely got clean. I'd have to use soap once I got home.
But something that left such stubborn stains—maybe it could write on boards after all.
"How long should I let it dry?"
"Dunno."
"Should I try firing it?"
"Don't do anything unnecessary. It might explode again."
"Ugh."
I left it for several days to dry, and it gradually hardened.
I wrapped a scrap of cloth around the Soot Pencil to make a holder so my hands wouldn't get dirty. Then I sharpened one end to a point with a knife and tried writing.
It worked!
It was a bit crumbly and easy to smudge, but it did write.
It was less like a book and more like an ancient recording medium, but it was a success.
"I did it! I can write with it, Lutz!"
"Oh, nice work!"
Now that I had a writing tool, I enthusiastically started making more wooden tablets.
Since I could gather materials while picking up firewood, I could expand my collection pretty easily. Being able to build it up little by little under my own power was the best part.
They were bulky, so making more would eventually create a space problem. But that was the same issue I'd had with clay tablets. It was just something I'd have to endure until I grew up and moved out.
I was generally satisfied with my completed wooden tablets, but one day they suddenly vanished.
When I came back from the forest, they were gone from where I'd left them.
"Gone?! They're gone! Huh?!"
"What's wrong, Mine?"
I was searching for my tablets—they must have been moved somewhere—when my mother poked her head out of the storage shed.
"Mom, do you know what happened to the wooden tablets I had here?"
"Mokkan? Hmm? What do they look like?"
As my mother tilted her head, I explained as best I could about the tablets I'd made.
"Well, they're different sizes—some thin, some thick—but they're all pieces of wood with the surface shaved flat and writing on them..."
"Oh, those are the pieces of firewood you brought back from the forest, right? I used them!"
"Huh? Used them? Why?!"
My mind went completely blank in an instant.
"They were firewood that you worked so hard to collect in the forest now that you can finally help out. I thought I should put them to proper use."
"But the firewood is stacked over here! Why did you go out of your way to use the ones I'd set aside? Those were the collection of folk tales that Mom used to tell me as bedtime stories!"
"Oh, if you want bedtime stories, I'll happily tell you more!"
She smiled happily, saying "Mine will always be such a little mama's girl," and patted my head.
"That's not what I meant..."
Not a single one remained. Seeing the empty space where my wooden tablets had been, all my energy drained away.
No matter how hard I tried to make wooden tablets, it was pointless. They'd just get burned again. Thinking that, I lost all motivation to do anything.
The moment my body went limp, the suppressed heat inside me surged outward like it had been unleashed. It felt as though the time between excitement, exhaustion, and fever had been compressed into an instant. My hands and feet went numb, and my body wouldn't move.
"What is this...?"
Without understanding what was happening inside me, I suddenly collapsed and was struck by a sudden high fever.
The heat swirling around inside me seemed to be slowly swallowing me whole, and my consciousness wavered. I felt myself gradually disappearing, consumed by the fever.
Only in this state did I finally understand—the real Mine might have been swallowed up by this heat.
With no strength left to resist, I was being swallowed bit by bit. Occasionally, I could see my worried family peering in at me.
Somehow, Lutz's face appeared among them.
...Why is Lutz here...?
Straining to focus on Lutz, the consciousness that had been about to sink pulled itself back up to the surface.
I strained harder at my temples, trying to focus, and Lutz came into view—not just floating hazily, but clearly, by my own will.
"Mine?"
"...Lutz?"
"Ma'am! Mine's awake!"
At Lutz's shout, my mother came rushing in.
"Mine. You collapsed so suddenly and wouldn't regain consciousness at all—I was worried sick."
"Yeah. I could see your face sometimes. Sorry for scaring you. ...Mom. My throat is all scratchy. And I feel really sticky, so I want to wipe myself down. Could you bring some water?"
"Of course, I'll get it right away."
As my mother turned on her heel, I grabbed Lutz's hand tightly. I was still lying flat and couldn't even lift my head.
"...Lutz, I failed again. Mom burned the wooden tablets."
"Oh, man. Well, they just looked like pieces of firewood with weird patterns on them."
"I worked so hard to make them, and I even set them aside separately..."
I didn't want to do this anymore.
My books were destined to never be completed.
I let out a long sigh, and the heat inside me surged again. My consciousness started to sink, but I shook my head and forced it away.
"Don't be so down. Then just use something that won't burn."
Because they were wooden, they'd been used as firewood. So if I used something that wouldn't burn, that would solve the problem.
Lutz's words were a ray of light.
This was no time to wallow in a fever. I needed to think of a good material.
I tensed my whole body, and the heat inside me seemed to shrink toward my center, growing smaller.
"...What could I make that wouldn't get burned?"
No matter how I thought about it, I couldn't think of a single material that wouldn't burn. Maybe it was the fever making my head foggy, or maybe I just didn't know enough about the materials available around here.
"Well, like, bamboo, for instance."
That's it! ...Lutz, you genius.
Bamboo burst apart when burned, so it wouldn't be so easily consumed as firewood.
Hope surged inside me. As it did, the heat somehow shrank a little, and my breathing became easier.
"Oh, what are you talking about?"
My mother came in carrying a bucket of water.
I exchanged a glance with Lutz, and we both smiled.
"It's a secret from Mom."
"I'll go gather it for you. But you have to get better, no matter what."
"Thanks, Lutz. You're so kind."
"This is—this is because
Lutz ran off, and I used the water my mother brought to wipe down my body.
This fever was strange.
The sensation of it suddenly attacking from inside my body, and the heat that slowly consumed my consciousness—it wasn't any illness I knew of. I'd never experienced heat that could suddenly spread out or shrink when I concentrated.
What exactly was this heat still writhing inside me?
When I first arrived in this world, fevers were the norm, so I hadn't thought much of it.
But lately, I'd been building up my body enough to move around, so the abnormality had become clear. What illness did this body actually have?
I wasn't wealthy enough to see a doctor in this world, and there wasn't exactly a household medical encyclopedia to look things up in, so I probably couldn't find out anytime soon.
...If I focused my consciousness and tried to make the heat smaller, it did gradually shrink. So I'd just have to wait and see for now?
Two days passed as I considered how to coexist with the heat. That evening, Lutz actually brought me bamboo cut to just the right size for making Bamboo Tablets. The outer bark had already been shaved off, so I could start writing right away.
"Don't touch it until your fever is completely gone. Got it? If you break this promise, I won't help you anymore."
"Got it. Thanks, Lutz."
I held just one piece in my hand and had my mother put the rest away in the storage shed.
I still couldn't get out of bed, but once the fever was fully gone, I'd write on these and complete them.
First things first—I had to get better.
Clutching the bamboo Lutz had brought me, my eyelids grew heavy and I began to doze off. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, a loud series of pops rang out—POP! POP POP!
"Gyah?!"
"What—what happened?!"
From the kitchen, the explosive sounds continued in bursts—pop! Pop pop!
My mother, her face drawn tight with alarm, burst into the bedroom.
"Mine! What did Lutz bring you?!"
"...Bamboo?"
"Oh! How confusing! It wasn't firewood for you—was it really just bamboo he brought?!"
At my mother's words, I understood the cause of the exploding sounds. Apparently she'd burned the bamboo as firewood. It seemed to burst apart with far more force than the bamboo I remembered—maybe it was a difference between worlds.
"Could it be, because the outer surface had been shaved off, she mistook it for firewood? ...Huh? Can you not tell wood and bamboo apart just by looking?"
"Bamboo and banihitsu wood have fibers that look really similar, you know."
"I've never seen that tree, so I have no idea..."
Even with the name, I couldn't picture it. At the very least, I'd never seen bamboo or anything resembling it in the forest.
"What are you talking about? It's the wood Turi used to weave baskets during her winter handicrafts. You were making baskets too, Mine."
"Oh, I remember now. It really does look confusing without the bark."
I knew because I'd watched Turi preparing her handicrafts. The tree looked like a normal tree with bark on, but once you peeled the bark, it looked just like bamboo.
"Anyway, bamboo is dangerous, so don't bring it inside the house. Understand?"
"...Yees."
Bamboo was banned now too.
Yeah, I had a feeling this would happen from the moment the bamboo burst.
I'm sorry, Lutz. You tried so hard for me.
What I ended up with was still pretty far from ink.
Next time will be a bit of a breather—a story about cooking, mostly unrelated to the main plot.