chapter01 · 014-ep14
Episode 14: "The Snow Mountain Correction Fiend"
The announcement went up the night before.
Just one line in the stream page's notice section: "Next time — Lesson Twenty-Eight: How to Walk in a Snow-Mountain-Type Dungeon."
An hour later, a thread appeared on the anonymous explorer board.
"[Announcement] Shin's Course Finally Tackles Snow-Mountain Types Next Time"
【That's the request with the most votes in the box】
【People die in that type even in summer, let alone winter. Everyone needs this】
【Hey. Speaking of snow-mountain types】
【Don't say it】
【There's exactly one person in recorded history who's made it through the deep layers of a snow-mountain type solo】
【I said don't say it】
【"The Witch of Dawn," Mio Hyodo. Shin-Sensei's second student】
【And there's a silent account in the course likes that only moves at four in the morning】
【m_0-san, are you watching? Tomorrow's your specialty】
◇
As for me, that day was peaceful, too.
Cook rice, flip through notebooks, prep for the night's stream. I'd stopped counting the days of my wholesome unemployed life somewhere past twenty. The viewers had told me off for calling someone who makes the worldwide trends "unemployed."
The snow-mountain volume sat on my desk. That notebook dated six years ago.
That night, when I hit the Start Streaming button, the viewer count passed 【400,000】 in the first minute. All that from a one-line announcement.
"Good evening, this is Shin. If anyone's new, here's the usual: this is a course for beginners. No flashy techniques. No talk about the strongest gear. It's dull. Probably shockingly dull."
【We know】
【Just today, I have a feeling "dull" won't cover it】
"Lesson twenty-eight: 'How to walk in a snow-mountain-type dungeon.' ...But before that, there's something I need to make clear."
I set down my teacup and bowed my head slightly to the camera.
"Snow-mountain types aren't my area of expertise."
【What?】
【Sensei has an area outside his expertise?】
【Says the guy who rewrote twenty years of established doctrine】
"I've only made it as far as the third layer of a snow-mountain type myself. I don't know the deep layers firsthand. Pretending to know something I don't is the worst thing I could do in this course, so I'm telling you up front. —Then what am I talking about today? My observations."
I held up the notebook's cover to the camera.
"There's a mage who's the only human being to make it through the deep layers of a snow-mountain-type dungeon alone. Six years ago, she let me watch her train in the hall at daybreak for a long time. Today's material comes from the notebook where I put those observations into words. As for her permission... well, let's call it past the statute of limitations."
【That's...】
【Don't say the rest】
【He said "training hall at daybreak," guys】
【Look at the likes. She's already here tonight, too】
"Now, the lesson. First, the order in which people die in snow-mountain types. When you think of a snowy mountain, you probably think of falls and freezing to death. But the leading cause is something else. —'Sensory deprivation.'"
Snow steals your sight. Absorbs sound. And—kills the information coming through the soles of your feet.
"Normally, you read the ground with your feet. The slope, its firmness, the vibrations. Even if you aren't aware you're doing it. Snow wraps it all up like a blanket and makes it disappear. With your eyes, ears, and soles shut off at once, your posture collapses from your own fear before a monster even appears. So the first line of the fundamentals for snowy mountains is this: —Keep the feeling in your feet."
Grip the floor with your toes inside your shoes. The same old fundamental, for who knew which time in this course.
"That's where you need it most—on snow. And one more thing. It's July right now, but it's a blizzard year-round inside a snow-mountain type. Summer accident reports contain an awful number of entries saying, 'It was hot outside, so I packed light on cold-weather gear.' The season belongs to the outside. Inside, only the inside's season matters."
【Ouch】
【Stop talking about me last week (went straight home from a snow-mountain type)】
"And one bit of housekeeping. I've submitted Hina-chan's recommendation paperwork for the B-rank promotion exam. The exam is the week after next. She should have her hands full with assignments right now. ...Though with a snow-mountain lesson, I have a feeling she'll come watch instead of doing them."
【B-rank already!?】
【It hasn't even been a month since she made C-rank, has it!?】
【There's no one left in the world who can argue with Sensei's assessment】
"Next, let's talk about the cold air. ...Now, this part."
I tapped a page in the notebook. There was a note scrawled in the margin that caught my eye every time I'd opened it for six years: 【Forgot to ask where the cold air comes from】.
"Honestly, from here on, we're past what I could reach by observing. Where does the cold air in the deep layers come from? All I have are theories, looking in from the outside. Sorry if I'm wrong. —This is a theory. I think the cold air comes from below rather than—"
Just then, a blue verification badge slipped into the torrent of comments.
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"Additional note. Below the fourth layer, the cold air rises from cracks in the floor, not the ceiling. Explorers who are in the habit of reading the wind with their faces die first. 'Keep the feeling in your feet,' as Sensei says, is the highest priority on a snowy mountain."
The comment section stopped.
Three seconds of silence in a classroom of half a million. And then—an avalanche.
【!?!?】
【Official!? Verification badge!?】
【MIO HYODO IS HEREEEEE】
【It's the snow-mountain lesson and the snow-mountain expert herself showed up】
【Who opens with "Additional note"!?】
【She came on her official account, not m_0. Do you get what that means?】
As for me, I read that line twice and laughed without meaning to.
"...Oh, so it is from below. I've been meaning to ask you that for six years."
I crossed out the note in the margin and wrote the answer beside it. One six-year-old piece of homework, finally done.
"It's been a while, Mio-chan. ...Mind if I keep going while you fill in the gaps?"
There was a three-second pause.
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"Go ahead."
【Don't just say "Go ahead" (crying)】
【Their first conversation in two years is "Go ahead"】
【No, this is probably how these two are supposed to talk】
I still don't really know what to call the hour that followed.
I'd explain what I could see from the outside. She'd supply the reasoning from the inside.
On whiteouts: "It looked to me like she shortened her incantations in the blizzard—"
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"Correction. I didn't shorten them. I divided them. In hypothermia, magic circulation drops thirty percent per breath. Divide the incantation into three parts and you can make up the difference through breathing."
【There's the correction】
【A human being who can correct Sensei exists】
【Correction fiend】
【These corrections are a full-on lesson in disguise】
On magic residue across a snowfield: as soon as I explained how to read it, she added a line.
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"Additional note. Residue persists three times as long on fresh snow. You can use it to track, but others can use it to track you. If you're erasing your trail, erase the residue before the footprints. Doing it the other way around is pointless."
【I'm t-taking a lesson in the same classroom as Mio Hyodo-san...! I can't write notes fast enough...!】
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"Amaha-san. Put your pen down and listen. You'll retain more. The recording isn't going anywhere."
【She's even teaching her junior now】
【This classroom's faculty is ridiculously stacked】
"—Well, still."
Once we'd covered a good stretch, I picked up my teacup and let it slip out.
"Mio-chan really is such a diligent student. ...Did you all know? Her notebooks were incredible. I'd write up what I'd observed and hand it to her. By the next morning, she'd have added three times as much verification in the margins and given it back. Somehow, tonight feels like we're carrying on with those notebooks from back then. —It makes your Sensei a little happy."
The flow of the comments changed.
【Hey】
【Sensei, do you realize what you just said?】
【Guys, what we're watching is a live broadcast of their notebooks going back and forth】
【"Additional note" is taking the place of the phone call she couldn't make for two years】
【All those four-in-the-morning likes—an archive's worth of "thank you" each—finally became words tonight】
【It was the only form she could make it take. She doesn't know any other way to talk to people】
【Don't cry】
【Like that's possible】
The verification badge didn't appear for a while.
Eventually, one line came through.
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"...That concludes my additional notes."
A beat later, another.
【Mio Hyodo · Official】"I apologize for taking six years to answer your question."
"No."
I shook my head at a student somewhere beyond the screen, with no idea where she was now.
"It just took six years to finish one lesson. —Thank you. We made a good notebook tonight."
That night's concurrent viewership set a record second only to the uninvited guest episode. The clip was titled "The Snow Mountain Correction Fiend," and no one was surprised anymore when the views climbed.
The pinned comment at the top of the clip read:
【I just saw the world's most awkward "I'm home" and its gentlest "Welcome back"】
◇
Only after she saw the end-stream button pressed did Mio Hyodo set down her terminal on the carpet and stare up at the ceiling of her dark room.
Her heart was still loud.
There were forty-one unsent drafts in the terminal's notes app. Some began, "It's been a long time." Others, "About what happened that day." Every one stopped on the second line, and she hadn't been able to delete any of them. It had been like that for two years.
Tonight, she understood something for the first time.
She couldn't write a greeting. She still couldn't write thanks or an apology. But—she could write an additional note. She could put something she knew down beside that man's words. She'd been doing that since she was sixteen, in the training hall at daybreak.
(...We could still pass a notebook back and forth, even after two years.)
Mio got up and went to her desk. The hand-sewn pouch was in the top drawer. She looked at it once, then started typing a long DM at the speed she wrote reports.
To Shin-Sensei. Supplementary material for tonight's additional notes. A diagram of the procedure for erasing residue on snow. A table of measured circulation loss in hypothermia. A hand-drawn map of crack distribution on the sixth layer. It was written in the same style as her submissions to the Association—businesslike, precise, not a hint of personal feeling. A perfect document.
When she'd finished and read it over, she added just one line at the end.
It looked like the rest of the material, but it wasn't. An unconfirmed rumor she'd picked up through contacts at her old clan three days ago. There was no proof. But—in that classroom now, there was a junior of hers.
Mio hesitated for ten seconds, then pressed Send.
◇
By the time I'd finished tidying up, my terminal buzzed once.
A DM. I straightened up a little when I saw the sender's name.
It was long. Supplementary material for tonight's notes. Diagrams. Measurement tables. A hand-drawn distribution map. The writing style of a report through and through. After one read, I laughed aloud. Even the spacing around the margins was meticulous. Not a thing had changed in six years.
"...Still a good notebook."
I started to type a thank-you—and my scrolling finger stopped at the final line.
That part didn't look like a report.
"There's a rumor Genbu is going to make a move at Hina-san's B-rank exam. Be careful."
I set down the terminal and stared at that line for a while.
I'd spent twenty years observing people. There are things you can tell from writing, too. These weren't the words of someone who'd go out of her way to write an unconfirmed story. —They were the words of someone who couldn't bear not to write it, even without proof.
I opened a fresh page of my notebook and wrote just two lines.
【Amaha Hina — B-rank exam. No change in preparation. Fundamentals only.】
【But—the "outside" of the exam is my job.】