Oh, for the love of—

I don’t wanna!

Plagued by these thoughts, I move my body, and then all of a sudden, the dance ends. Agh. Here it comes.

Munch, munch, munch.

Munch.

Munch, munch, munch, munch.

I’m intently chewing rice. I shut my eyes and keep chewing, trying not to think, trying not to sense flavor or sound or color. Beside me, Yotsuha’s doing the exact same thing. We’re kneeling formally, side by side, and a small wooden box rests on a stand in front of each of us. And of course, beyond that, a diverse audience of all ages and genders stares at us.

Munch, munch, munch.

Munch, munch.

Agh, I swear…

Munch, munch, munch.

I’m going to have to do it soon.

Munch, munch.

Arrrgh.

Munch.

Giving up, I raise the box in front of me. I bring it close to my lips, attempting to veil my mouth with the sleeve of my kimono.

And then. Aaagh.

Puckering my lips, I spit the rice I’ve been chewing into the box. The mixture of grain and saliva dribbles from my mouth as a thick, white liquid. I feel as if I’ve heard the crowd stir, muttering. Waaaaaaaaah! I sob internally. Please, nobody look at me.

Mouth-brewed sake.

It’s the oldest type of sake in Japan. If you chew up rice, mixing it with saliva, then just let it sit, it ferments and turns into alcohol. Then it’s offered to the gods. Long ago, I hear places all over the country used to make it, but I don’t know if any other shrines still do this sort of thing now, in the twenty-first century… And seriously, doing it in shrine maiden clothes is just over the top! I mean, what’s the point?! Mentally sniffling, I pick up another pinch of rice and put it in my mouth like a trooper. Then I chew again. Yotsuha is doing the exact same thing, her expression cool and composed. We have to do this over and over until the tiny boxes are full. Dribble… I spit saliva and rice again. Inside, I’m crying my eyes out.

Abruptly, my ears catch familiar voices. Feeling a bad premonition like a faint ripple, I raise my eyes ever so slightly.

Curses.

I want to explode and take the shrine with me. I knew it: It’s my three flashy “in-crowd” classmates. They’re watching me with smirks on their faces and gleefully gossiping about something. There’s too much distance between us for me to really hear them but I feel as though I’m hearing them loud and clear. Eeeeee, I could never, ever do that! and That’s kinda obscene, and Man, how can she do that in public? Nobody’s ever gonna marry her now.

I make a very, very firm resolution:

When I graduate, I am leaving this town and going far away.

“Cheer up, Sis. Who cares if people from your school saw you? And anyway, what’s got you so shook up?”

“It must be nice being a carefree, prepubescent little kid!”