I was working on the hair ornament's handmade accessories when I heard a polite knock on the front door.
Turi and I exchanged glances before she went to check.
"Yes, who is it?"
"It's me,
"Okay, I'll open up now."
When Turi unlocked the door and creaked it open, Lutz stepped inside along with a gust of chilly outdoor air, snow still clinging to him.
"Whoa, you look freezing."
"Is the blizzard that bad?"
"The path to the well was pretty blocked up, but it's not too bad right now."
As he spoke, Lutz made sure to shake off all the snow right there at the entrance.
"Here are the hairpin parts. My brothers each made three, so there are nine total."
Lutz lined up the hairpin components on the table. Once they were all laid out in a row, Turi stood up and brought over the finished ornament pieces.
"Oh, hey, why don't we assemble the completed ones? That way we'll know how many hairpin parts are still missing, right?"
A surprising number had been finished while I'd been laid up with fever. Looking at the ornaments spread across the table, I posed a question to Lutz.
"There are twelve ornament parts, and Lutz brought nine hairpin parts. How many hairpin parts are still missing?"
"Huh? Uh... three."
"Correct. Well done. See, you've been studying hard. Turi, you and Mom are in charge of assembling the hair ornaments. I'll be overseeing Lutz's lessons."
Noticing that Lutz's other hand held a bag containing his slate and calculator, I made the call.
Turi blinked several times, then tilted her head.
"I heard you were teaching him math at the Gate, but can you really teach Lutz?"
"I can teach him letters and numbers, at least."
Seeing my pout at her blatant lack of trust, Lutz gave a wry smile beside me.
"Mine's amazing with letters and math. I mean, she's amazing at being weak too, but still."
If you're going to compliment me, leave off the second half.
I glared at Lutz, but since both Mom and Turi were laughing, it was completely pointless.
Lutz pulled his slate and stone stylus from his bag, so I ran to the bedroom to grab my memo pad—a bundle of usable scraps cut from failed paper—and a Soot Pencil from my wooden box.
My plan was to work on book-making under the pretext of teaching Lutz.
It felt a bit awkward doing book-making on the side while Mom and Turi were so diligently working on their crafts, as if I were slacking off compared to them. But while teaching Lutz, we'd both be writing anyway, so it wouldn't stand out as much.
Alright, time to continue working on the books.
I'd been writing whenever I found spare time, so the memo pad had gradually accumulated more of Mom's bedtime stories, though there still wasn't enough to call them complete books yet.
Happily clutching my memo pad, Soot Pencil, slate, and stone stylus, I headed back toward the kitchen when I heard Mom's voice.
"Hey, Lutz. Isn't
The sudden start of a serious conversation made me hold my breath. Trying not to make a sound, I tiptoed back to the kitchen.
Beside Mom, who was asking the questions, sat Turi, frozen in place. Across from them, Lutz looked at Mom with a stiff expression.
When I sat down next to Lutz, Mom slowly exhaled, glancing between Lutz and me before speaking.
"You see, I've been thinking that maybe Lutz decided to become a merchant because of
"That's not it at all! I was the one who wanted to be a merchant, and Myne introduced me to the idea. I'm the one who dragged Myne into this, ma'am."
Lutz denied it immediately. Lutz was the one who wanted to become a traveling merchant, and after hearing about it, learning about Citizenship, he decided to become a merchant. I honestly had nothing to do with that decision-making process.
Mom nodded quietly, watching Lutz calmly.
"So it's your own desire to become a merchant. But if you go apprentice at the same place as Myne, you'll try to look after her like you always have, won't you? Being an apprentice isn't easy enough that you can manage your work while taking care of Myne. If you're too focused on looking after her, your work will end up half-finished."
I think Mom's words struck Lutz right in the chest. I could tell from beside him—he gasped as if blindsided.
And those words pierced my own heart too. Mom wasn't wrong.
As I gritted my teeth, Lutz lifted his head firmly.
"...I really want to become a merchant. It's because of Myne that I was able to become one. So I want to help her as much as I can, but the reason I want to be a merchant isn't for Myne's sake."
Right—Lutz had his own dream. For what he wanted to do, being a merchant suited him better than being a craftsman, and his resolve had only solidified through his interactions with
Working alongside me had been the fastest route to becoming a merchant, but he wasn't becoming a merchant for my sake.
"Then, even without Myne—even if she couldn't work because of her health—Lutz would still continue as a merchant?"
On the table, Lutz firmly clasped his hands together and, still holding Mom's gaze, slowly nodded.
"I'd continue. Of course. Mom and Dad only ever told me to become a craftsman, but this is a path I finally carved out for myself, and I don't want to give it up. Even if Myne told me to stop right now, I'd still become a merchant."
"I see. ...Then that's fine. I'd only heard Karla's side of things and never actually had a proper conversation with you about it, so it's been weighing on me. Thank you for talking to me properly."
To Aunt Karla, it probably looked like I was dragging Lutz around.
It was true that my health conditions had caused him to be jerked about, so you couldn't say she was entirely wrong. But that was also why she might have only heard half of what Lutz had to say, or worse, convinced herself that Lutz was bending his will under pressure.
Earlier, she'd told him to "stop this," and I'd refused...
I was curious what argument Mom had heard from Aunt Karla, but she didn't seem like she'd tell me. She'd probably say, "If you're that curious, go ask her yourself."
"Aunt
"What is it?"
Mom tilted her head slightly at Lutz's voice. Her eyes, watching him steadily, clearly promised she would give him a serious answer.
Letting out a small breath of relief, Lutz began.
"Why don't you oppose Myne becoming a merchant? If it's really such a despised profession that everyone around you hates it—like Dad and Mom say—then why?"
Well, merchants took a commission and skimmed off the profits, so I understood why craftsmen didn't think too highly of them. But saying it was a profession hated by everyone around you—that was a bit much, wasn't it?
As if she'd heard the voice in my head, Mom looked at me with a wry smile before lowering her eyebrows uncertainly.
"Everyone's image of merchants is different, so I can't really say anything about the profession itself. But let me think... The reason I don't oppose it might be because Myne has always been frail?"
"Huh? Because she's frail?"
Watching Lutz tilt his head in confusion, Mom smiled softly.
"Honestly, I never thought Myne would be able to work. I couldn't imagine anyone needing Myne. So if Myne can help someone by doing something she's good at—if she can pour her heart into that work—then I have no reason to oppose it."
Mom's words squeezed my chest tight. Feeling the love she'd directed at me, a warmth spread through the back of my eyes.
"I see. ...I'll do my very best too, so maybe they'll approve."
The words that spilled out beside me carried a bitter edge, and I squeezed Lutz's hand.
"Hopefully they will."
"Yeah."
"But first things first—study time."
"Right."
Lutz's smile relaxed the atmosphere considerably.
The tension from the serious conversation dissipated, and Turi, who had been sitting stiffly this whole time, let out a long breath and started moving. She picked up her sewing box and began stitching the ornament pieces onto the hairpins.
Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I tapped Lutz's slate lightly with my fingertip.
"We'll start with a review of the basic alphabet. Write them all out to make sure you've got everything memorized."
"Got it."
After assigning Lutz his task, I turned to recording the story Mom had told me onto my memo pad and continued working on the books. The Soot Pencil made darker lines than a lead pencil when you rubbed it in, and unlike ink, it didn't cost anything—that was the real advantage.
As I wrote out the continuation of the story, I occasionally glanced over at Lutz's slate. I could see him writing characters without hesitation.
Lutz's studying was going smoothly—almost too smoothly.
He understood that his opportunities to study were limited, and that among the apprentices who would soon be working together at Benno's shop, he was at the greatest disadvantage. That was why he was absorbing knowledge as fast as he could.
With a tense household that was hostile to the idea of him becoming a merchant, Lutz was prepared to leave home if it came to the worst. That was precisely why he was so desperate to cram in as much knowledge as he could.
"You've already memorized all the basic alphabet perfectly. And your penmanship is neat too. You're amazing, Lutz."
"Your model examples are just that good, Myne."
Without repeated practice drawing the lines, it was hard to write characters beautifully. Unlike me, who had memories from a previous life to draw on. When I thought about it that way, I truly admired Lutz's effort.
"Now that you can write the basic alphabet, next we'll move on to memorizing vocabulary. Let's practice with the most common kind of order form."
I wrote a materials order form on my slate. I'd written order forms countless times while making paper, so the words flowed easily. As I wrote, I also taught him the names of the workshops and masters that Benno dealt with—the information I'd learned along the way.
"This is the lumber shop's name. And this is where the order goes. When we were doing it, Benno bought the materials and had them delivered to us, so his name went here. This is the name of the lumber..."
Lutz watched my slate and carefully copied everything onto his own.
"When spring comes and we order materials to make paper, do you want to try writing the order form, Lutz?"
"Wha—!?"
"Practice so you'll be able to."
"Sure."
Having a goal seemed to really motivate him. He began practicing seriously, checking each character for spelling mistakes.
After watching him work for a while, I spread open my memo pad and resumed recording Mom's story. There was still a long way to go before the collection of Mom's bedtime stories would be complete.
"Shall we move on to math practice?"
After finishing one story, I gave a big stretch and spoke to Lutz beside me.
Lutz had been practicing writing vocabulary repeatedly on his slate. He looked up, nodded, put the slate away, and pulled his calculator from his bag.
"Alright, today we're doing this."
I began writing problems on my slate. Today was three-digit addition and subtraction. After writing eight problems, I watched Lutz use the calculator.
Unlike before, his fingers tapped the calculator with barely any hesitation.
"You've gotten faster with the calculator."
"Once I memorized the single-digit addition you told me to learn, it got way easier to use."
"Yeah, you're faster than me at this point... honestly."
When it came to the simple calculations I was teaching Lutz, I always ended up doing the math in my head and getting the answer instantly, so my finger speed on the calculator just wouldn't improve. Handwritten Calculation was still faster than the calculator for me, just as it had always been.
Well, I was lending Lutz the calculator for his practice, so that was my excuse.
With so little time to touch it myself, it was only natural I wasn't improving. Though whether I'd practice as seriously as Lutz if I had a calculator of my own... I couldn't really answer that.
"Addition and subtraction both seem fine. The method stays the same even when the digits get bigger."
"Numbers getting bigger does throw me off a little though."
Lutz scratched his cheek as he said that, but he'd only been using the calculator for about a month, so this was more than enough progress.
"I don't know the method for multiplication or division either, so there's nothing I can teach there."
Since I didn't know how to use the calculator for those operations, I decided to at least teach him the concept behind multiplication and division, along with the multiplication table. For the table, instead of reading "ichi ichi ga ichi," I adapted it to our number pronunciation—"ichi ichi, ichi" and so on. Even if it was a bit awkward to say, as long as the answer came quickly when the numbers were lined up, it was fine.
He could now read bigger numbers and convert them into currency without making mistakes.
With Lutz's ability to absorb information, I thought he'd be able to manage if he worked hard during the new recruit training.
...What about me, though?
The words Mom had spoken earlier echoed deep in my chest: "Being an apprentice isn't easy enough that you can manage your work while taking care of Myne. If you're too focused on looking after her, your work will end up half-finished."
When it came to Lutz's work, I was without a doubt a burden. I had no stamina, no strength, and was essentially useless.
I could probably be somewhat useful in product development, but I still didn't fully understand the common sense of this world, so I often struggled without Lutz there to explain things.
Come to think of it, Benno had been worried too.
I recalled him asking whether I could really work in my current condition and sank into thought. During the winter, with all this time to brood, I needed to figure this out properly.
Could I work without becoming a burden to L—and to everyone at the shop?
What should I do?
The next day, I still hadn't found a good answer. While I was working my knitting needles deep in thought, Dad spoke up.
"Myne, if you're feeling up to it, how about going to the Gate? The blizzard stopped today."
"Yeah, let's go!"
I jumped to my feet with a clatter and immediately started getting ready to head out. I put my slate and stone stylus into my tote bag, then layered on several pieces of clothing to brace against the cold outside.
I'd talk things over with Otto.
Whether it would really be okay for me to become an apprentice at Benno's shop like this.
That unexpectedly serious conversation went on for a while, so I'll save the Gate story for next time.
Next time: a serious conversation at the Gate. The Otto consultation room.