Making washi. The time had finally come for washi to be made.
And not by me—
If I had the chance right now, I could probably land one, maybe one-and-a-half rotations of a sideways jump in figure skating.
Don't you dare say I can't even do that normally! It's hard with this body!
"Hee hee hee. Heh heh."
"
"I can't help getting excited! I mean, we're going to make paper! We can actually make it! If we can make paper, we can make books! Eeeee!"
How could I not be excited, knowing that books were practically within reach?
As I headed home with practically skipping steps, Lutz clutched his head and heaved a sigh.
"…Myne, it's fine that we're making it, but how exactly do we make it? I don't know a thing about it. Don't we need tools or something? Is it even going to work?"
Lutz's overly calm questions, delivered between sighs, instantly dispelled my giddy mood and dragged me back to reality in a flash.
…Right. We'd have to make the tools from scratch—there was nothing here!
I knew the steps for making washi. I could more or less remember the names of the tools. But I'd only read about how to make the tools themselves in books about vanishing craftsmen and their equipment. I couldn't recall the specifics.
Without tools, there was no way we could make it.
…Ugh, we'd have to start with making the tools. Maybe it wasn't possible to jump right into making paper after all. Aaagh, as usual, my knowledge was only half-useful.
"…Hey, Myne. You got real quiet all of a sudden. You're not gonna say you can't do it after we've come this far, right?"
Lutz wore such a worried expression that I hurriedly shook my head.
"I'm not saying that. I know how to make paper. I've wanted to for so long. But I couldn't do it before because I didn't have the strength to cut trees, I couldn't use fire yet, and I couldn't crush fibers. I couldn't ask anyone to make paper just for my selfish desire…"
"I told you I'd help, so you should've just asked…"
Lutz pouted a little resentfully.
I appreciated the sentiment, but making paper was heavy labor. It was nothing like helping dig soil during foraging trips or helping chop a tree here and there.
"See, the thing is, I can only teach you how to make it, Lutz. Unlike before, when I had you help with things I could also do, this time you'll be doing almost everything yourself from start to finish. Even so, you'll go through with it?"
"Of course. You think it up, I build it. That's the deal, right?"
Lutz nodded immediately, but I felt I had to double-check. He might have just gotten swept up in the moment.
"Okay then, Lutz. We'll have to start by making the tools first, but can you handle it?"
"…You'll be doing it with me, right?"
"Of course. I'll do everything I can."
As I said that, I fell deep into thought.
Even making tools meant we first had to identify exactly which tools we needed. And while we were at it, we could look around the house for anything that might serve as a substitute.
Mom might get mad at us again, but since we didn't have any capital to work with, we had no choice but to hunt for substitutes wherever we could.
"I'll write down all the necessary tools and look around the house for possible stand-ins. If there aren't any, we'll have to make them… Lutz, could you look for trees that would work as paper material?"
"There are trees everywhere if you just go into the forest."
"I know, but I have no idea which ones are good for papermaking."
I knew that kozo, mitsumata, and gampi were suitable woods for washi, but I had no idea which trees in this world would work.
"Let me see… For papermaking, a good tree has long fibers and strong fibers. The fibers need to be sticky so they tangle together easily. And you need to be able to harvest a lot of them… But I have no idea how to tell if a tree has long, strong fibers just by looking at it."
Plus, apparently first-year kozo branches were the ones to use. From the second year onward, the fibers hardened and knots appeared, making them difficult to work with—I'd read that somewhere.
But I couldn't tell first-year growth from second-year just by looking at a tree.
"…Even if you explain all that, I wouldn't know either."
"I know, right? Anyway, I think there are soft trees and hard trees, but what we need is soft, young wood."
"Trees get harder as they age, yeah."
As expected, Lutz knew more about trees from experience. To me they were all equally impossible to cut, but Lutz could apparently tell the difference between easy and hard, soft and tough.
"Well, you can make paper from bamboo or sasa grass too, so even if a tree isn't ideal, anything plant-based should work in theory. But the easier to work with, the better, right? And if we're going to sell it as a product, we definitely need to pick the right wood."
"Huh…"
I nodded lightly at Lutz, who murmured "easy-to-work-with wood."
"If possible, it'd be even better if we could cultivate it and get our raw materials easily. But there's no way to know if a tree is easy to cultivate, right?"
"No, there are trees that grow easily and trees that don't. Easy ones do exist."
"Really!?"
I gritted my teeth at how little experience Myne—who never went outside—actually had.
It had only been a month since I was allowed into the forest. Having never even cut down a tree, there was no way I could pick one out.
"Then I'll leave tree selection to you, Lutz. I plan to try many different types to figure out which work and which don't, so think about some trees that look soft. Also… I'd like you to look for 'tororo.'"
"What's that?"
"What I know is that it's a tree root, but I don't know if it grows around here. A tree that oozes a thick, sticky liquid… or the fruit would work too—anything ring a bell?"
Lutz didn't seem to come up with anything right away and thought for a while.
"Hmm…"
"It acts as a kind of glue that holds the fibers together. That's why we need it."
"I'll ask someone who knows the forest well."
"Then I'll recall the process and write down all the tools we need. After that, I'll figure out how to make them."
As I listed what lay ahead, we arrived in front of my house.
"We're here. Well, let's do our best."
"Yeah."
From the sounds of it, even making the paper was going to be tough, and actually creating a product-worthy prototype would be an incredibly time-consuming endeavor.
Once home, I pulled out my slate. I had to go through the papermaking process in my mind and write down all the tools we'd need.
The first step was harvesting the wood or plant material. Lutz had something like a billhook, and no special tools would be needed for that. Okay, next.
For kozo, you had to steam the wood to peel off the black bark. That meant we'd need a steamer.
I'd never seen a steamer used at our house, so I'd ask to borrow one if there was one in the kitchen. I went to check right away, but there wasn't one.
We'd never done any steamed dishes, after all. Not surprising we didn't have one.
I wrote "steamer" and "pot" on the slate. Okay, next.
You soak the steamed wood in cold water and peel off the bark while it's still hot. Ideally, you'd do this near a river after steaming, but if you had a knife, you wouldn't really need any special tools. Okay, next.
Thoroughly drying it, soaking it in the river for over a day to strip the white bark—no special tools needed. A knife would do. Okay, next.
Boil the white bark in ash to soften it and remove impurities. That meant we needed ash and a pot. The pot could double as the one used for steaming, but the ash would be a problem. I doubted Mom would give it to me, and I wasn't sure whether the ash from steaming would be enough.
I wrote "ash" on the slate. Okay, next.
Soak it in the river for over another day to wash away the ash, then sun-bleach it to make it white. After that, remove fiber damage and knots. Most of this was manual work. No special tools needed. Okay, next.
Pound the fibers until they became cotton-like. Here we'd need a kind of wooden club for beating the fibers. Could we make one from a branch or firewood?
I wrote "square lumber" on the slate. Okay, next.
Mix the pounded fibers with water and tororo thoroughly, then use the screen frame to scoop up paper.
We'd need a tub or basin for mixing everything, plus a wooden frame— Screen Frame.
This Screen Frame was going to be the hardest part.
I wrote "tub" and "Screen Frame" on the slate. Okay, next.
Remove the sheet from the frame and transfer it to the Paper Bed. Stack a day's worth of sheets on the Paper Bed and let them drain naturally for about a day and a night.
I wrote "Paper Bed" on the slate. Okay, next.
Then gradually apply pressure with Weight Stones or jacks to squeeze out more water. If you left it pressed for a full day and night, the stickiness from the tororo would disappear completely.
Could any Weight Stone work? I was pretty sure there was one used for pressing oil, but could Lutz lift it?
I wrote "Weight Stone" for now.
After pressing, carefully peel each sheet off the Paper Bed and mount them on boards.
I wrote "Flat Board."
Sun-dry them, and once they were dry, peel them off the mounting boards. Done.
"Hmm, when I think about it, we need quite a lot of things…"
The necessary items: steamer, pot, square lumber, ash, tub, Screen Frame, Paper Bed, Weight Stone, Flat Board. Plus the raw materials and tororo.
I'd seen photos and illustrations of the process and more or less remembered the steps, but since I'd never actually made any myself, I didn't know the finer details. The ratios of wood fibers to tororo to water, for example.
But I recalled an idol—not very idol-like—who'd made paper on a TV show once as part of some village-building project. If an idol could do it, there was no way I couldn't.
Try to remember that old TV show. Come on, memory, work with me!
No, wait—that idol had borrowed tools, right? They hadn't built their own tools, had they?
Plus, they'd had an instructor! Uuuuugh.
Having knowledge alone wasn't much help. The most paper I'd ever made was a recycled paper postcard from a milk carton in home economics class. Better than nothing, I wanted to believe, but still extremely unreliable.
Anyway, let's start with postcard-sized sheets. Smaller tools would be easier to build, and when testing different tree species, smaller sizes would be better than bigger ones.
"Alright, Lutz. Let's start by making a steamer."
Trying to make the round bamboo steamer used in Chinese cooking would be difficult, but building a square wooden one shouldn't be too hard.
I sketched a rough diagram on the slate and showed it to Lutz.
"The method itself is simple enough, but… do we have nails?"
"Huh!? Can't you cut notches in the wood and fit them together…?"
"What's that?"
We'd run into trouble trying to make tools: we didn't have tools to make tools with.
Wood we could get by cutting, but we had no nails. And nails weren't the kind of thing a kid could just buy with pocket money here.
We had things to cut wood with, but nothing for fine detail work.
If I could do the Edo-style joinery technique—borrowing Dad's tools, cutting mortises, and fitting pieces together—that would've solved everything. But knowing about a craft skill didn't mean you could actually use it.
And besides, if Lutz could do it just from my explanation, it wouldn't really count as a craft skill.
Nails were used in daily life, so the hardware store would sell them. But the problem was, we had no capital to work with.
We were completely stuck.
"What are we going to do, Myne?"
"Um, I'll talk to
Since I couldn't contribute labor to my family, the only option was to go somewhere that would pay for my labor.
The next day, I went to the Gate and asked Otto.
"Otto, I have a question. How much do nails cost? If you know any cheap suppliers, I'd appreciate an introduction."
"…Why nails? You can't use them, Myne-chan."
That was right. I didn't have the muscle strength to use a hammer.
Nails or ink—that might make sense—but Otto tilted his head in puzzlement, not understanding why I would want nails. I answered with a sigh.
"I want to make tools for papermaking, but I don't have the tools to make tools."
"Ahahahaha…"
"This isn't a laughing matter."
He banged on his desk without restraint, laughing at me. I puffed out my cheeks in a huff.
Sure, after dramatically declaring to
Wiping the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, Otto flashed a bright smile. It was the slightly sinister grin of a calculating merchant who looked refreshingly handsome.
Noticing that I'd instinctively gone on guard, Otto grinned even wider.
"If you teach me how to make something for making hair glossy, I'll lend you some nails."
The exchange rate was completely lopsided. That was robbery no matter how you looked at it.
If information about this leaked from Otto to Benno, I'd lose one effective card I could play against that Benno. The loss would be far too great.
"…I can't give you information just for nails. Based on Benno's reaction the other day, this looks like it could be quite a profitable product."
"…You were watching closely."
Otto murmured with a hint of admiration.
"Well—" I answered vaguely while thinking desperately. If I lost Otto as a lifeline, I had no other rope to grab onto. I had to find some kind of compromise.
…Why did Otto need Simple-chan Rinshan anyway?
Otto wasn't a merchant like Benno. So it wasn't about wanting to sell it as a product, surely.
He might want to owe Benno a favor—maybe.
…Otto was fairly neat and tidy, but he wasn't the type to care that much about his appearance. If anything, the person who wanted to use it was female… His wife!? His wife!
If Otto's beloved wife had asked him about it, that would explain everything.
"…Otto, I can't give you information, but I could trade the actual product."
"Oh?"
Otto raised an eyebrow lightly. The fact that he showed interest suggested he might not be hung up on information after all. Spotting a small opening, I took one more step.
"Um, let me put it this way. I'll show Corina how to use it and make her hair glossy and silky-smooth. Just getting the product doesn't help if you don't know how to use it, after all."
"Deal. We have an agreement."
Without so much as a pause for thought, Otto nodded.
I'd figured mentioning Corina's name would be effective with Otto, but I hadn't expected things to go this smoothly.
"Then come by my house next holiday. We'll make the exchange then."
"Understood."
On the next holiday, I was set to bring Simple-chan Rinshan to Otto's house and become an impromptu hairstylist (shampoo only).
I was relieved that we'd somehow get the nails, but at this rate, my own supply of Simple-chan Rinshan would run out.
Besides, Simple-chan Rinshan was a consumable—I'd have to keep making more—and there was a good chance Otto would keep asking for trades down the line.
"Lutz, I've got the nails lined up."
"For real? That's awesome, Myne!"
"Yeah, but the trade is I have to hand over 'Simple-chan Rinshan'… and I'm running pretty low. Could you help me make some today?"
"Sure, no problem."
Maybe I should make a slightly larger batch of Simple-chan Rinshan and use it as a source of funding.
"In a little while, Merrill will be available, but right now the best option is Rio fruit."
I harvested Rio fruit together with Lutz in the forest, then crushed them at my house to extract the oil. Lutz couldn't use the pressing Weight Stone yet either, so he tapped away with a hammer.
I tossed various herbs into the freshly pressed oil one after another.
"Huh, it's pretty easy to make?"
"That's right. The key is the type of oil and the combination of herbs. So listen, Lutz—trading the finished product for the materials or funding you need is fine, but you must never, ever tell anyone how it's made."
"Why?"
"Because it's so easy. Once you teach someone the method, they can make it themselves. Then you'd never be able to trade for anything again."
"Got it. Makes sense."
I poured the finished Simple-chan Rinshan into a small container and handed it to Lutz.
Lutz tilted his head with a puzzled look.
"I don't need that though? You're the one getting materials and money, so you should keep it, Myne."
"You did the work. Use this to smooth things over with Aunt
Before the interview with Otto, I'd cleaned up Lutz's hair, and Aunt Karla had peppered him with endless questions. Since I hadn't seen Aunt Karla since then, all the interrogation must have been directed at Lutz.
"Oh, that's a relief. Thanks, Myne."
Lutz's face lit up as he accepted the container.
Watching him, I mimicked Otto's grin and flashed a bright smile.
"If Aunt Karla gets pushy, you absolutely cannot leak the recipe, okay? This is practice for giving someone the product without giving away the information. If you want to be a merchant, there will be lots of things you need to keep secret."
"…I'd rather practice starting with something easier," Lutz said, exasperated.
I chuckled at his reaction.
We still didn't have nails.
The path to washi seemed quite long indeed.
Knowing how to do something and actually doing it are two very different things, aren't they?
Well, obviously. Making tools wasn't exactly easy either.
But Myne doesn't give up.
Next time, we'll be visiting Otto's house.