Chapter 9: Festival Preparations
The next morning, Miroku woke to the sound of drums reverberating deep in her stomach.
At regular intervals, a low, heavy beat echoed from somewhere in the estate. To her still-sleepy mind, it sounded about thirty percent louder than usual.
She pulled the futon over her head, but of course, it didn’t help.
“...Too loud.”
At the Kannagi family estate, with the Spring Grand Festival only ten days away, preparations had entered full swing several days earlier.
Servants and ritual exorcists had been coming and going through the garden since early morning, inspecting the ritual implements carried out of the storehouse one after another. Purification litanies drifting from afar, footsteps crossing the hallways, voices calling instructions back and forth in the garden. And, just when she had nearly forgotten about it, another drumbeat reverberating in her gut.
The normally silent estate—so quiet one might wonder whether anyone actually lived there—became an entirely different place during this season.
The four grand seasonal festivals were held throughout the country. The Spring Grand Festival, which opened the yearly cycle, was also a festival meant to pray for peace throughout the new year and a bountiful harvest, while renewing the bond between humans and inhuman beings.
Festival grounds were established throughout the capital, centered around the Imperial Palace, and the old families—including the Five Great Elder Houses—each took on their assigned roles.
Naturally, the Kannagi family was no exception.
She wished they could be.
Last night, she hadn’t gotten home from her part-time job until after ten. High school students needed plenty of sleep. She had no obligation to help with festival preparations first thing in the morning.
As she lined up these perfectly reasonable arguments in her head, Miroku tried to fall back asleep.
“Big Sis.”
A voice came from beyond the sliding door.
She didn’t hear it.
“You’re awake, right?”
She hadn’t heard that either.
“I’m coming in.”
“Don’t just come in whenever you feel like it.”
The sliding door opened.
Her younger sister entered with the morning light.
She was already dressed in her uniform, and her long hair had been neatly arranged. She carried a long, narrow package in her arms.
A dance fan.
Seeing it reminded Miroku of what she had been told yesterday.
This year, her younger sister would perform a sacred dance at the Spring Grand Festival.
The dances at the grand festivals weren’t mere entertainment. They were formal sacred rites offered to the gods, and the dancers were expected to possess not only the proper family status, but also spiritual power and an aptitude for ritual ceremony.
Since Yoshitsune, the next Emperor, would be officially attending this year, many of the girls selected as dancers were bondmate candidates for him.
Her younger sister was one of them.
“I told you yesterday, didn’t I? I have practice this morning.”
Exasperation colored her voice.
Miroku poked only her face out from under the futon.
“Did you?”
“I sent you a message telling you not to complain when I woke you up.”
“I didn’t read it.”
“It was marked read.”
What a convenient age this was. In the old days, burning a letter would have destroyed the evidence. Things weren’t that simple anymore.
She gave up and sat up.
Her younger sister wore her usual expression. But the hand holding the package was gripping it just a little more tightly than usual.
“Nervous?”
At the casual question, that hand stopped.
She didn’t answer right away. Eventually, she gave a small nod while keeping her eyes lowered to the package.
“...A little.”
That was unexpected.
Her younger sister had participated in ceremonial observances since she was little. She was used to appearing in front of people, and she was far better at dancing than Miroku. At least, in her big sister’s eyes, she had always seemed like someone who had nothing to do with nervousness.
“I see.”
“What’s with that reaction?”
“I just thought even Kaien got nervous.”
“Of course I do. What do you think I am?”
“Someone with nerves of steel.”
“I’m more sensitive than you are, at least.”
Miroku couldn’t deny that.
She crawled out of the futon and pointed at the package her younger sister was holding.
“Let me see.”
Though she looked a little puzzled, her younger sister undid the wrapping.
Inside was a pale pink dance fan. Petals flowed across a stream painted in gold powder, glittering softly in the morning light.
It wasn’t the formal ritual implement she would use for the actual performance, probably just one for practice. Even so, it was beautiful enough.
“It’s pretty.”
“We borrowed it from the Ishinagi family.”
That explained it.
The Ishinagi family was one of the Five Great Elder Houses, as well as a family that had preserved the ceremonial garments, court music and dance, and ancient forms of etiquette associated with sacred rites into the present day. They also helped run Baifeng Academy and had taken on numerous roles in this year’s grand festival.
In other words, Himeuo was going to be busy for a while.
Poor thing.
Good thing it wasn’t Miroku.
“You’ll come watch the actual performance, right?” her younger sister asked as she rewrapped the fan.
“The whole Kannagi family is being forced to attend, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but... knowing you, Big Sis, you’ll probably disappear halfway through.”
Rude.
She was about to deny it, but then she remembered her past behavior.
Last year, she slipped away to the food stalls in the middle of the ceremonial observance. The year before that, she slept beneath a tree in the garden.
She had no comeback.
“I’ll watch properly this year.”
Her younger sister’s hands stopped.
“Really?”
“Probably.”
“Don’t add ‘probably.’”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Even so, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly.
Apparently, she wanted Miroku to watch more than expected.
In that case, Miroku would try to watch as much as possible that day.
“...Do your best.”
“Do my best at what?”
“Your debut.”
This time, Miroku made sure she got the message across.
Her younger sister’s eyes widened for just a moment before she hugged the dance fan to her chest again.
“As if you needed to tell me.”
The reply was quite curt, but she didn’t seem upset.
Just then, the third drumbeat came echoing from down the hall.
Her younger sister looked at the clock on the wall.
“Big Sis.”
“What?”
“You’ll be late if you don’t leave the house in about twenty minutes.”
Miroku looked at the clock too.
Silence lingered for a while.
“Couldn’t they wait for me...?”
“No.”
It was an immediate answer.
In the end, there was no time left for breakfast.
By the time Miroku arrived at Baifeng Academy, festival preparations were already underway all over campus.
Along the road from the main gate to the school buildings, whitewood pillars that normally weren’t there had been erected at regular intervals, with brand-new sacred ropes strung between them. New barrier talismans had been pasted beneath the eaves, and white paper streamers fluttered whenever the wind blew.
Ten days until the Spring Grand Festival.
The Imperial Palace wasn’t the only festival ground.
During the festival period, spirit roads would be drawn from the Imperial Palace to the major shrines and ritual facilities throughout the capital, while festival grounds of all sizes were set up across the city. Baifeng Academy was one of them.
At this academy specializing in training ritual exorcists, the students also became participants in the festival.
Those studying ritual ceremony helped set up altars and prepare divine offerings. Students majoring in spellcraft assisted with the barriers surrounding the festival grounds. Those gifted in court music and dance were assigned to sacred dances and musical performances, while students specializing in negotiating with inhuman beings handled the yōkai and gods invited to the festival.
They put what they had learned in class to use in actual ceremonial observances.
For the students, it was like practical training on a massive scale.
Miroku wasn’t a fan.
Because it was forced unpaid labor.
Upperclassmen had already begun assembling temporary altars in the schoolyard. A short distance away, students in the spellcraft department were drawing a massive ritual array on the ground under a teacher’s supervision.
The sound of flutes drifted from the school building.
It wasn’t a song yet. Judging by how they kept repeating the same phrase, it was probably practice for the court music and dance department.
The school looked completely different from usual.
Miroku didn’t dislike the atmosphere itself.
Whether she wanted to participate was another matter.
“Miroku!”
She turned at the familiar voice.
Himeuo stood there.
Her arms were full of a huge stack of papers.
“Morning.”
“Morning. You’re here at just the right time.”
Miroku decided not to ask for what.
If she did, she might get dragged into it.
Just as she was about to pass by, half the documents were loaded into her arms.
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t say anything yet.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
Apparently, Himeuo had never intended to get Miroku’s permission in the first place.
Looking down, Miroku saw a program schedule, a festival-ground layout, a roster of attendants, a list of divine offerings, and a ritual-implement checkout sheet lined up in her arms.
She shouldn’t have looked.
She headed toward the school building alongside Himeuo.
Along the way, Miroku noticed faint dark circles beneath her eyes.
“Did you sleep last night?”
“Hmm, I think I got about four hours?”
Miroku glanced over at her.
Considering the role the Ishinagi family was taking on in this year’s grand festival, she understood why Himeuo was busy. Even so, that wasn’t a workload a high school student should be handling.
“You’re going to collapse eventually.”
“I’m fine.”
Himeuo’s “I’m fine” at times like this was never trustworthy.
Ignoring Miroku’s stare, Himeuo turned her face toward the schoolyard.
“The academy’s festival ground is bigger this year too, so there’s a lot to do.”
“Ugh, sounds like a pain.”
“No, it’s fun.”
The unexpected answer made Miroku look toward the schoolyard as well.
Students carrying whitewood. Teachers inspecting ritual implements. Girls heading to dance practice. Some upperclassmen were even arguing with a teacher over the placement of the barrier.
The altar, which had still been nothing but a framework that morning, was gradually beginning to take shape.
“You know how festivals take days and days to prepare for?” Himeuo continued, gazing at the scene.
“But once the festival’s over, it all disappears.”
The altar, the sacred ropes, the decorations.
Things made over a long period of time vanished without a trace once the festival ended.
“Isn’t that a waste?”
Miroku said exactly what she thought.
Himeuo gave a small laugh.
“I figured you’d say that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“But you don’t hate it, do you?”
Miroku was at a loss for an answer.
Himeuo was usually gentle and hard to pin down, but she had an uncanny way of seeing right through people at odd moments.
Miroku lowered her gaze to the documents in her arms.
“...I guess.”
She didn’t hate the festival itself.
Spring was flowers.
Summer was water.
Autumn was harvest.
Winter was fire.
Each time the seasons turned, the festival changed with them.
It was a hassle, old-fashioned, and took time and manpower to prepare.
Even so, it had continued for generations in this country.
“I don’t think I hate it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because you always stick around until the end, one way or another.”
“I only stay because I get yelled at if I leave.”
“I’ll let you tell yourself that.”
Miroku furrowed her brow at Himeuo’s words, and that was when—
“Himeuo!”
Shigure came running from across the schoolyard.
She was carrying a large wooden crate.
The moment Miroku saw it, she had a bad feeling.
“Where does this go—”
“Hey, don’t run, idiot!”
Before Himeuo could finish, Shigure’s foot caught on a slight step in the stone pavement.
Her body lurched, and the wooden crate shook.
She somehow managed not to fall.
However—
Clang!
A very lively crash came from inside the crate.
All three of them froze.
Shigure slowly looked down at the crate.
The color drained from her face.
“...Did you hear something just now?”
Himeuo tilted her head with an awkward smile.
“What are you talking about?”
“Miroku.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything.”
Hope returned to Shigure’s face.
“You two...!”
“But we’ll know if you open the crate, right?”
The hope vanished.
“Why would you say that?!”
Shigure stared down at the wooden crate with a look of despair.
The Ishinagi family crest was emblazoned on its side.
“What’s inside?”
“Probably a whole set of ritual implements.”
“Then it’s over.”
“We don’t know that it’s broken yet!”
“Then open it and see.”
“I can’t!”
Miroku understood.
There was still a slight chance nothing had broken.
It was completely wrong as a way to handle ritual implements, but perhaps it was the correct choice for her mental health.
In the end, Shigure went off to find a ritual-ceremony teacher without finding the courage to open the crate.
At least she didn’t run this time.
A small step toward maturity.
As Miroku and Himeuo watched her go, the sound of flutes drifted over from beyond the school building again.
It sounded a little more like an actual song than before.
In the schoolyard, the altar’s framework had been assembled, and several students had begun stringing up sacred ropes. Some were hauling pillars while being yelled at by teachers, while others held serious discussions over which way the paper streamers should face.
In ten days, this place would probably look completely different.
“Miroku?”
Himeuo’s voice brought Miroku’s attention back.
“What?”
“Those papers are about to fall.”
Miroku looked down and saw that the stack in her arms had tilted quite a bit.
She hurriedly adjusted her grip.
“How far am I carrying these?”
“To the Third Ritual Chamber.”
Miroku stopped walking.
It was on the opposite side of the school building from here.
She silently tried to hand half the documents back to Himeuo, but Himeuo had apparently seen through her intentions and slipped a step away.
“Let’s do our best.”
“That’s your job.”
“It’s your job now too.”
“Since when?”
“Since you took half the stack.”
Tyranny.
Miroku tried to escape with the documents still in her arms, but on her second step, someone grabbed the sleeve of her tracksuit.
She turned around to find Himeuo wearing her usual gentle smile.
Himeuo clearly had no intention of letting her get away.
“Princess Ishinagi, you’re more tyrannical than you look.”
“Oh, my. I’m not like that at all.”
Seeing Himeuo smile sweetly, Miroku gave up gracefully and headed for the Third Ritual Chamber.
Along the way, Shigure’s voice drifted through an open window.
“I swear, Sensei! It’s not like I was running!”
Apparently, she’d been caught.
Without slowing down, Miroku quietly pressed her palms together in her heart.
She prayed the ritual implements were unharmed.
And, as an afterthought, that Shigure was too.
As for the order of priority, she would keep that part to herself.