Writing and Paper (and a Bunch of Troublemakers)

Time flies like an arrow. I've lost count of how many springs have come and gone already. Hurry up and get through the prehistoric era already~

"Mmm, but spring really is lovely~ Warm breeze~ a fresh little scent on the air~ ...Hm?"

What is that? That smell? These days there's a whole lot of smells I could do without.

When I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floated up for a look, the city below was enormous, as expected. Off in the distance, they were stacking stone walls around the grazing pastures — apparently even the labor force had some to spare.

The cattle herds had grown spectacularly, too. Those fences were going to feel cramped in no time.

While time flowed on, the children multiplied, sure — but it was the newcomers from outside whose numbers had absolutely exploded.

Splaash—

Oh? There it is! Someone just dumping their muck jars wherever they please.

For public hygiene, that is really not great.

Time to find Garungda. If there's manpower enough to expand the city like this, then there's one thing that needs doing before it grows any bigger.

"Is Garungda home?"

"It's the voice of Haneul-nim!"

"It's Haneul-nim!"

Bomi and Cheori came rushing to greet me. The little ones had flourished and were eight or nine years old now.

I wanted to scoop them both up in my arms, but the strength of this body of mine is pitiful beyond words.

CRASH-BANG—

"Aigoo."

See, two kids at once and I'm the one flat on my back.

"Ahahaha! Haneul-nim fell over!"

"Eeheehee."

Their little hands were getting remarkably bold. You should be kneading your own mothers like that — why are you squishing my chest? Looking to get scolded when Garungda shows up?

"You two! Haven't you had enough?"

See! Told you you'd get scolded.

"Eeeek! Let's run!"

"The villain has appeared!"

Well, that's not the mood of children being scolded. More like the mood of children playing? Fine, fine, play away — aren't these your best years anyway?

"Hello~ I'm back."

"Haneul, if you let them walk all over you, of course they'll keep at it!"

"What, they're just kids. What's the harm?"

"Aigoo, honestly."

I've known them since before they could walk, so it's only natural we're close. Surely she isn't going to make a fuss over something like this.

"What is it? Something wrong?"

"The people are getting far too lawless."

"Why aren't they being punished?"

As the population grew, rules had been drawn up, along with punishments for breaking them. And I'd thought they were being followed rather well, too?

"There are so many people now, it's hard to keep it all in memory..."

"Ah~"

Fair enough. Nearly everything runs on human memory alone, so of course things get muddled.

Hmm. Would written characters help?

"Is there anything like writing — marks you make to keep records?"

"What is 'writing'?"

Ah. I shouldn't have bothered asking. If writing existed, I'd have stumbled across it by now.

"I'll teach you letters, then."

"Are they truly necessary?"

"Yep. They'll be an enormous help with everything we do from here on."

"Whew... More studying, then."

Hey, that studying is exactly what made you the highest-ranking person among these people, you know~

"I'll go fetch one thing we need."

I picked out a boulder about my own height and began carving into it with loving care.

Hunminjeongeum itself. King Sejong the Great, I am so, so sorry!

History's already a hopeless wreck, isn't it? Surely nothing more can go wrong?

THUD!

I set the monument down in front of Garungda's house. Maybe I made it a bit too big? Eh... they'll figure it out.

"What is all this?"

The stone bore all twenty-four basic letters, carved nice and neat and big as your fist.

"What Garungda must learn. Eheheh."

Grammar would be far too hard, so I figured if I just taught them words, things would work themselves out.

Not just Garungda either — his whole family, plus everyone who wore any sort of armband of authority, came swarming over.

"Alright! Time to teach you letters!"

Huh? What was I supposed to call this again? Hunminjeongeum is written in hanja, and spelling it out would take forever. Uh... close enough, I suppose.

"So — Hunminjeongeum. It means 'the correct sounds for the teaching of the people.'"

First I taught them how to read the consonants and vowels, and how to combine letters to record sounds.

Hangul really is easy. Maybe it's because they'd never known any other script, but they picked it up in no time.

The bright ones began teaching themselves, working things out on their own.

"Haneul-nim, is 'Bomi' written like this?"

Bomi was dragging a tree branch through the dirt, spelling out her own name all by herself.

"Wow~ Impressive! Well done."

"Eeheehee. And is this 'Haneul-nim' right?"

"Mm. -nim is just an honorific, so when you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠writing a name, leave it out. Just 'Haneul.'"

"Hmm? What's an honorific?"

Oh, look at this one? Hangul may be easy, but Korean is hard, little miss. Time to show her the spicy stuff.

And so, over the next several days, I found myself teaching grammar to Bomi, who had thrown down the gauntlet.

The kid is a genius, I swear...

"Haneul-nim, is there more?"

"Plenty more, but even I don't know the rest..."

"So there are things even Haneul-nim doesn't know?"

"Th-that's right..."

Dammit. This kid is too smart.

"From here on, you make up the rest yourself."

"Can I really?"

"Language is a living thing. You have to create it and change it as the need arises."

"I don't really get it, but okay!"

"Aww, what a precious child."

She was so adorable I pulled her into a hug, and she hugged me right back, which felt wonderful. A child well-fed and growing plump is marvelously soft and squishy.

Squish squish, squidge squidge.

"Bomi, do you like my chest that much?"

"Yes! It's all soft and squishy, it's amazing!"

"Is that so?"

"Other people aren't like this at all!"

Hmm... I'll take that as "springy and lovely," I suppose? One of the perks of this body. I never gain weight, never lose it, and never sag.

Writing spread like wildfire. That's how great King Sejong the Great truly was...

One side effect, though: people were scrawling hangul all over every wall in town. Thankfully it was charcoal. Be grateful there's no paint.

"Hey! Why are you scribbling on my house!"

"There was no space on ours!"

"What did you say, you punk?"

Aigoo. At least grab a wooden board before you go defacing things...

Could paper be made right now? I'd have to drop a few hints for someone to pick up on it.

What about Garungda? Hmm... no knack for it. Fail.

Akta? Too busy. Out.

Maybe I'll drop by and see what Turu's up to?

The workshop was chaos itself — like a battlefield.

SCREEECH—

"Stop! Now bring out the wood!"

"Is the fresh timber ready yet?"

Ah... I can't exactly burden this place with more work, can I...

No talent anywhere. No talent... The kids these days are sharp, though. Maybe I should wait a few more years.

For now, I'll go see Garungda.

Not quite at the city's center, but beneath the great tree at its heart, stood a modest little house that served as a government office of sorts.

It was where Garungda and a handful of others gathered to rack their brains over the day's affairs.

"Hello! Everyone busy?"

"Ah. Haneul-nim has come."

"There's something I think we need."

"Gah—"

Every face went ashen. Come on, don't look so miserable, you're making me feel guilty...

"I need to make something called paper, and for that I need researchers. One or two people with good hands would be ideal."

"People, you say...?"

I know, I know. Clever people are the hardest thing in the world to find. In this era, someone with skillful hands is usually someone with a good head on their shoulders.

"Hmm... Ah! How about sending those two?"

Hm? Is there actually someone suitable?

"You mean those brothers, Akeru and Akaru?"

"Will they be all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right?"

Excuse me? Who are these guys? Surely even a complete nutcase is no match for me!

"Even for Haneul-nim, they..."

"Hmmm..."

Uh oh. Now I'm nervous.

"Just call them in. I'll have a word with them myself."

"Kekekeck. So you are the ones who summoned us?"

"If our brothers' power is needed, it must be no ordinary matter."

What is up with these creepy little weirdos?

"We need to make something called paper, and the research takes real persistence. You two can handle that, right?"

As long as they do the work, who cares. And with no one else available, I have to drag them along somehow.

"Can you comprehend our darkness?"

"Are you too an existence of darkness?"

Uh... what? What is wrong with these two? Is this some kind of chuunibyou? They don't have the vocabulary for it yet, so at least I'm spared the likes of 'Darkness of the Dark,' I suppose...

Looks like they need a little re-education first.

WHAM! WHAM! THWACK! Kera-crash.

"Ugh! What the—!"

"Urk! I shall not be defeated!"

"If this be our fate, then—!"

This won't be easy...

Slap slap slap — thwump, thwump.

A collar-grab here, a rice-cake paddle there — I will cure you two of your incurable disease.

Both brothers were nicely bruised in the face now, and the sight of their bloody noses was genuinely a feast for the eyes. If their parents complained, I could always hold a little parent-teacher conference.

"Now then. You two will stand up."

"Keke. I have not yet unleashed my true power."

Off on that nonsense again?

Gulp—

"So this is to be my fate, it seems. Please spare me."

"Hm?"

"I have done wrong. Please spare me."

What was that someone said about chuunibyou being incurable? Turns out if you tell them to speak so others can understand them, they finally will.

"Yes. That's it — speak so people can actually understand you."

"Yes, sir. Understood."

"Heheh. We'll do our best!"

They say it's incurable, but they're not just going to relapse tomorrow, right?

"Now. Your job, gentlemen, is to make paper."

"What is paper, pray tell, my dark—"

WHAM!

One of them took the hit and rolled away like a barrel.

"Gah. What is paper, sir?"

"Right. You know how you get fibers from tree bark and plants...? You take that pulp, spread it thin, press it, and dry it into flat sheets. And then you experiment — mixing in plant roots and all sorts of things — until you find something even better."

I told them everything, from the basic method of extracting fibers all the way down to the trees and roots used in traditional hanji papermaking.

Scratch scratch.

Well, credit where it's due — they actually had brains, taking notes on wooden boards as they listened.

'Oho, this Haneul-nim is pretty impressive— wait. What is that? Is that... an insult?'

CRACK! Snap.

I split the wooden board clean in two for them.

Mwahaha. You two took me far too lightly. Do not underestimate twenty years of a patient's endurance.

"Eheheheh. My dears? I'm not giving up on you."

"Hiiiek!"

"W-we're sorry!"

Why are your faces going ghost-white? We're only getting started. This is going to be fun. For me, anyway?

The people of this era all share one common belief: if someone's alive, you'll see them again eventually.

In other words — no one minds if a man doesn't come home for days at a time.

"GYAAAAGH!"

"EEEYAAAGH!"

I was hurling the two of them high into the sky and catching them. Ahh, this is fun. Their screams are chef's kiss.

"GUUURGH."

"URGLE."

This time I spun them round and round. Ah — I should probably ease off this one. Things were getting far too messy.

"Come on down and wash yourselves, boys."

SPLAT.

I dropped them onto the ground and told them to go wash. Ah... did I let them down from a little too high?

"W-we're sorry."

"We won't act up again."

Hmm, what to do? It's only been three days, though?

"Eh, feels like we've got a ways to go still?"

"NO, MA'AM!"

Impressive volume, but can I actually trust them?

"Can I trust you?"

"YES!"

"Then go wash up, quick."

They bolted for the water like their lives depended on it. Oh, look how fast! See, this is why you don't need to think — brute force is always the answer.

Once they'd scrubbed clean and returned, we set about building a proper workspace. There was still plenty that needed making, and with no proper cauldrons to be had, I went and fetched one more giant stone pot.

"Oh? Big, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Next offense, and you two go inside it. And I'll be the one to light the fire."

"GAH!"

Might make for a rather cozy hot bath, though? A stone soaking tub? Not a bad idea, honestly.

For the initial run, we decided to extract plant fiber from hemp and work from there. You need a prototype before you can put anyone else to work, and the brothers needed to fine-tune the measurements step by step.

"So this is paper?"

"Oh, everyone's here?"

The biggest reason ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I wanted paper: the transmission of knowledge. I had gathered the craftsmen all together — the workshop, the blacksmith's forge, Agna, and even the problem-child brothers.

"I know how hard you all work to master your crafts, how much research goes into them. But I'd like us to keep records, so that when the next generation comes after you, they won't repeat all the same mistakes."

I wasn't sure if I was asking too much. After all, I was telling master craftsmen to write down every last one of their trade secrets.

"Oh! Funnily enough, I was just wracking my brains over these thick-headed apprentices of ours. That solves it."

"If it's written down, the craft survives even when I'm gone, hmm?"

Thankfully, the reactions were all positive.

"One thing, though — keep the most important parts back. Teach around them. Not everyone in this world is on our side."

Would our people ever truly grasp the concept of an enemy? Once a nation formed, wars would come often enough, I imagined...

I hope the traces my friends and I leave behind last a long, long time.