Ascendance of a Bookworm

Now, although I decided in my heart that I would definitely make you a book, I could not procure paper.

My feeling as a Japanese is that if I even went to the home center, 500 copies of paper would have been sold for about 200 yen, but in a place where I live as one, my father's January salary would disappear into just one piece of parchment.

One piece of parchment is the shape of the largest piece of parchment that was skinned, the hair also shredded, and put up for sale as parchment paper, and when cut into easy to use sizes it becomes one piece. One piece I found at my father's place of work was about the size of A4 paper.

Even if I manage to cut and use one piece of parchment, it will only be about 5-8 pieces. Simply put, it's too expensive for civilians to buy parchment paper that can just write a book.

In other words, I need to make paper before I can make a book.

But I have only as much knowledge of how to make paper as I have read in a book. Because paper was for me, if I went to the store, what I was selling.

Supermarkets and convenience stores, as well as even school purchasing, were lined up with rooseleaves and notebooks. I said, "If you like," and I've lived in a world where I get notebooks and notebooks in crude. Calendar was such a bank crude, and folding ads and direct mail that I didn't need were immediately rubbish.

Now I can see through every corner no matter how unnecessary the ad is, and I can declare that I will use any margins with care.

What a luxury the world could have been with paper readily available.

Viva, Japan! Japan would have been better off if I'd reincarnated anyway.

Besides, trying to make paper, I don't see any machines here. Beyond the lack of machines, I also have to make all the paper by myself.

It's obvious because you've been reborn into a different world without machines, right?

You read a book, you know how to do it, don't you?

... but I want you to think about it.

Can a No No Japanese who just liked reading and even bothered with everyday chores using appliances suddenly make paper by hand? Moreover, the body is now a toddler, sick and weak, with extremely narrow limits of what can and is allowed.

Conclusion.

There's no way I can.

But it's too early to give up.

There is a long history on Earth that is politically, economically necessary and has been documented. I've been recording this for a long time, but it wasn't that long ago that I had a piece of paper made of machinery.

In other words, the older history is, the more reproduction may be possible to me today.

Um, how was it in an era without machines?

I opened my hands as wide as I could of a five-year-old girl - like a three-year-old if only in stature - and frowned.

Old civilization, old civilization...... Speaking of ancient civilization, Egyptian civilization!

Speaking of Egyptian civilization, Papyrus!

Long live Egyptian civilization!

In such an associative game, I came up with the idea of making papyrus with Egyptian civilization as an example. If it's an invention from the time of ancient civilization, maybe even a small hand of mine can handle it.

Something plants, anyway, using straight tree or grass fiber, I should have made... maybe. Even here there are plants. Plants that are likely to be raw materials for paper must be gobbled up in the woods.

All right, forest. Let's go to the woods.

I am a woman who, only with regard to the book, was astonished and mourned by her family if her footwork was terribly light.

Run it as soon as you can think of it. I tried to get you to take me to Touri quickly.

"Touri, I want to go to the woods too. Together..."

"Huh!? Mine!? I can't."

It was rejected before I said it all. It was a reflectance rate that felt like there was no room to think.

Besides, they seem to say "no" instead of "impossible" is "no room for reconsideration," which hurts my chest.

"Why?"

"'Cause Mine can't walk, can he? You can't walk to the gate, but you can't go to the woods. When we get to the woods, we pick up firewood, we look for nuts, right? I can't take a break. Besides, you can't even climb a tree, can you? You're tired on the way home, but you walk with heavy baggage on your back, too, huh? You're leaving in time for the gate to close, so no matter how tired you are, you can't take a break, okay? Look, you can't do this to Mine, can you?

As a matter of course, Touri began to finger and count why Mine couldn't go to the woods. A little too much, but all the reasons are aggregated to "lack of health".

"Besides, it's almost winter, so there's less to pick in the woods..."

It's also possible to get tired and go all the way to the woods, with little or no harvest, Thuri says.

That's just tough.

Try going to the woods on the assumption that there may be no harvest, or give up making paper......

It's too difficult.

"What do you want? I don't think there's much more of Meliya's fruit, do you?

Touri leaned his neck against me, deeply troubled.

The fruit of Melijah is the fruit from which I made the Simplified Lincoln, and the fruit that Thuri has picked is all preserved as oil without being eaten. And I put it on my hair from time to time and use it to moisturize it.

Meliya appreciated it too, but the important thing is a book over beauty. It's the fiber of a plant needed to make it into a papyrus broth.

"Um, is there a" fiber-prone plant "?

"Huh? What?

He looked suspicious, and he asked me back. This is a face that never spoke Japanese.

Um, I'll just think about it a little bit and replace it with something as understandable as possible.

"... grass with a little thick stems and straight. I just want the stem."

Touri, who heard my words, also thought, um... Do you have any idea? Wait for Thuri's answer.

After a while, Touri opened his mouth, clapping his neck as if he had no choice.

"Well, I'll try to help Ralph and Rutz."

"Huh?"

Instead of asking you to cooperate, do you want to?

Touri seemed a little surprised by my reaction when I tilted my neck not knowing exactly what the word meant. I blinked my eyes several times and said, "What are you talking about by now?," he tilted his neck.

"Ralph's place has chickens, so there's plenty of feed to get past the winter, right?

No, "Right? I don't even know if they say so."

Because Touri speaks for granted, I also keep my heart voice hidden and gavel, "That's right".

"So that means asking if I can get a little stem instead of helping you take the grass. But the grassy season is over, so not so much, huh?

"Still. Thank you, Touri."

That's right, Touri. Fine, sister.

The next day, I went down to the bottom with Thuri going to the woods and asked Ralph and Lutz to do the same. Horrified that you could pull it off, but you can't just leave it to the Touri and the others.

I'll go get my own grass, too. Fortunately, even around the well, grass grew except at the cobblestone. Can I use that stem?

"Mother, I will go with you to the well"

"Oh, you want to help?

"Yeah. No."

Something seems happy. I'm sorry, but let me clearly deny that. If I was helping you, I wouldn't be able to collect grass.

"Collect grass."

So I showed him the little cage that Thuri had made before.

"Yes, good luck."

I refused to help with Bassari, but my mother did not refuse to accompany me, whether I thought I should stay out of the way that I was a little motivated, or whether I was happy that I had the strength to move.

With my mother holding the laundry, I go down the stairs once again. It's already the second round trip today, so that's all I knew I was out of breath, and I can't stop taking grass.

It's a short break next to my mother, who draws water from the well and washes it with gossip with animal soap that doesn't bubble at all and smells tight. Touri's right, there's no way we can get to the woods without doing something about our strength.

"Oh, not Mine."

"Good Morning"

"Oh, Carla. Good morning. You're early this morning."

Although I don't remember, an aunt named Carla called me out looking familiar. My mother talks to me, so I'm pretty sure she knows Mine. Who is it? I explored my memory a little bit, being careful not to see it on my face.

I knew it was someone I knew. What a mother to Ralph and Rutz, according to my memory. It's a little awkward, uh, someone who seems really dependable.

Should I say "I always take care of you" in this case?

No, no, whatever it is, it doesn't sound like a 5-year-old.

What kind of conversation does a kid have with an aunt he's supposed to be close to?

Somebody help me!

Without gazing at me, whose thoughts turn around, Aunt Carla begins washing by drawing water without looking heavy from the well. I knew I would use smelly animal soap.

"How are you today? It's rare to be out there."

"Take the grass. Ralph and Rutz, because you said you were collecting for the birds."

"Well, for us? I'm sorry."

Aunt Carla does laundry with Zakazaka, answering with a light mouthful that she doesn't even think is bad. Chatting with several groups of mothers, including our mother, about something the whole time.

By the way, every mother has a moving mouth but her hands don't stop at all. That's amazing.

Still, the soap stinks.

Would it be a little better if I tried smell erasing herbs or something?

Or will the smell x smell make it a worse stench?

While I thought of the proposed improvements in my head, I rose up and began to rip the grass around me apart with a butch. I choose grass whose stems are as thick as possible and whose fibers seem stiff, but then it cannot be my power.

I can't bare hands. Somebody bring me a mowing sickle.

Of course, the mowing sickle can't reach you, and you can't pull it off with your bare hands.

Enough is enough. Expect Touri to have gone to the woods or Ralph or Lutz to work hard for the chickens.

I give up taking stems for myself early, and I pick and pick the soft leaves and sprouts that the chickens are likely to eat. That's about as good as it sounds to me.

"Mine, I'm leaving."

They've already done the laundry. My mother, with her tightly squeezed laundry, called me. I haven't picked as much as half of it into a small cage yet, but my mother has work to do today, so I can't even tell her everything.

I went back to the house with a small cage.

"Ready? Okay, let's go."

"Yeah."

Ever since I became Mine, I didn't know because I had a fever or my mother took the day off and it was my life in the house all the time, but when there was no fever and I was healthy, it seemed I was kept at my neighbor's babysitting grandmother's.

Otherwise, you can't let Thuri go to the woods. Convinced.

"Mother's going to work, but Mine needs to stay quiet here."

"Yeah."

Say hello, Gerda.

"Yes, sir. Come, Mine."

Many children like me were kept at Grandma Gerda's, who was working as a babysitter. Basically, a couple of little walks to the point where they finally escaped the infant.

In this city, beyond the age of 3, when your strength follows, your brother or sister will be able to take you to the woods or help you with your house and leave a message.

I mean, my strength is so walking right now that my family can't seem to leave me alone.

What do you mean!?

There was a boy in front of me who was stunned by the appreciation from his family to himself, trying to put a toy falling on the floor in his mouth. Next door, a little girl got hit by a boy and started crying.

"Here, dirty! You can't just leave it in your mouth!

"Oh."

"You can't suddenly blast me. How did you do that?

"Well, well."

I'm supposed to be a deposited child too, but I'm supposed to take care of my surroundings because of the biggest.

Oh, well, no!

Grandma Gerda, get to work for a second!

As I lay my little one down with Grandma Gerda, I thought about how I could make papyrus dressing with stems that could be delivered.

Honestly, I don't remember how to make papyrus.

'Cause I didn't take that exam.

Sure, the papyrus seemed pretty hard to see, and I remember the caveat in the corner of the page that the fiber lay vertically and sideways and the direction of the fiber was different from the front and back, so I could only write it on one side and it wasn't suitable for folding... so naturally, it didn't say how I could make it.

The trouble is, I can't think of any way to make papyrus that I just saw in the picture.

I think something was running straight through the fibers, how do the fibers stick to each other? You need something as pasty as Japanese paper?

Tilt your neck, remembering a dataset of history that didn't say anything big.

In the meantime, why don't you use the fibers in the hardest looking stem area and weave them vertically and horizontally, like cloth for a moment? I might be able to handle this without the glue stuff.

Even parchment is like cloth, it's the first papyrus you make, and you just have to write the letters, right?

Mine, I'm here to pick you up.

"Tourie!"

Tulli and the others picked me up on the way home from the woods in the evening.

Thanks. I'm so glad you picked me up. With that feeling, I hugged Gassi Tulli.

Grandma Gerda's babysitting was not a way to take care of her, but a way to babysit her like leaving her in danger. Even if it brings, wipe it with a wet cloth and leave it behind. The room smells like dirt.

With Japanese common sense clinging to my head, it was really tough to see the scene of child protection here.

That's too much to pay for babysitting.

It's just an extra problem in my little hand, even if I want to do something about it. You can't babysit with my little hand like you thought, and I don't know if Grandma Gerda's way is normal here. I may be weirder when I accuse you.

I wanted to get out of this harsh environment a little faster, and I couldn't help but think of the time to just pick you up early.

"What's wrong, Mine? It's been a long time since I've been deposited, so I missed you?

"Mine could go to the woods with me if he had more strength."

"I hope we can go in the spring"

Touri pumped my head, and Ralph and Lutz consoled me, and I thought I really needed to get my strength on. It's bad that I don't have all the strength.

"Yeah, well, I promised you grass stems, I've picked 'em."

I gasped at the stem in the cage and Ralph showed me. At that moment, the thing about Grandma Gerda blew out of my head.

It's more of a book than Grandma. Paper.

"You're full. Glad to hear it! You know, I collected a little grass at the well today, too."

When I reported with my breasts stretched, for some reason I was stroked in the head by the three of them.

Besides, he was praised with a raw warm smile, "Well done," by Lutz, who gazed from above.

Hey, me, how much do they think I don't work for?

... No, I certainly don't work a lot.

Replace the grass in the small cage that Thuri has picked up with a bunch of stems that the three of us have picked up for us.

Come on, now, get rid of the papyrus, too, I'll make it.