Traditional Festival Revival: Forgotten Culture Reborn — Walpurgis Night, Day One (Part I)
The village waited for Walpurgis Night.
It had begun as a festival the village chief simply shoved into motion, something people prepared for halfheartedly and without much conviction. But once the hour drew near, even those who had never cared about the celebration felt a wind of anticipation stir in their chests.
Reviving the village's traditions. A dedication to the God of Light. A vow to master one's lust.
They had tacked on no shortage of justifications. What the villagers actually cared about, though, was a single thing: eating, drinking, and making merry.
Unlike the modern world, a country village was always short on entertainment. Whatever the pretext, a new stimulus was welcome in the end. Human desire was not something you could simply press down and hold there. A festival became a small airhole for people whose wants had been kept in check.
But the fact that this particular festival would be no mere airhole — that it would be the complete liberation of desire — was something only a handful of people knew.
The Walpurgis Night festival that the village chief had ranted and raved about, insisting we simply had to hold it. Honestly, though, I couldn't tell what made it so different from an ordinary harvest festival.
I'd lived in this village all twenty years of my life and been through any number of harvest festivals. How was Walpurgis Night supposed to be any different, in the end?
You ate, you drank, you sang, you danced, you talked, and you got lost in the old stories some silver-tongued uncle spun for the crowd.
The only thing that set it apart from a regular festival was the statue they'd erected in the dead center of the village — a sculpture depicting a man's... that.
How indecent. What even is that thing?
According to the chief, that object was the highlight of the festival, and they would burn it in three days. Something about symbolizing reason's victory over lust? The complicated parts went over my head, so I let them slide.
That said, it wasn't as if I found it so embarrassing I didn't want to look. Quite the opposite. My eyes kept drifting to it, and that was the real problem.
So that's the thing every man is supposed to have hanging off him... and that goes inside a woman's... uuugh...
A ticklish feeling stirred around my chest.
I was a maiden of twenty myself. I'd received the basic facts of life from Priestess Veronica. I knew how a man and a woman coupled, how babies were made, what the duties of a married couple were. I knew all of it. I'd just never really thought about it. I'd figured it was something I'd do someday, once I got married. That was all.
Lately, though, for some reason...
Ugh, I might have to go confess to the priestess again. I just confessed a few days ago because of a dirty dream, and now this?
I tried to look away, but my eyes kept sliding back to the phallic statue. My lower belly ached with a dull throb, and my heart was pounding so hard I didn't know what to do with myself. Was this just a natural change that came when a girl reached marrying age?
"Everyone, your attention!"
While each of us was busy soaking up the festive mood, the village chief raised his voice. Once he had the villagers' eyes, he steered their attention toward a certain boy.
"Walpurgis Night is a festival our village will carry forward as a new tradition! And that makes it the perfect occasion to formally introduce a new member of our family. Many of you already know him, but this is Yujin, Priestess Veronica's newly adopted son!"
The boy the chief had introduced bowed at the waist in greeting.
I'd already heard the news, but this was the first time he'd been formally presented. An orphan who'd lost his parents to villains, wasn't he? Our village already had any number of orphans Priestess Veronica had raised, so he was basically their brother. Which made him family to the rest of us, too.
"As you all know, Priestess Veronica is engaged in a prayer of penance today and could not join us for the festival. So young Yujin, as her adopted son, will deliver the celebratory address in her place."
...?
Wait, is that even allowed?
Just because he's Priestess Veronica's adopted son doesn't mean he has the right to give the address she would deliver in her capacity as a priest, does it? That seems a little off...
...Well, I don't really know about these things, so I should just keep quiet.
Yujin began his address in a voice far too calm and composed for the way he looked.
"Thank you all, truly, for this welcome. Taking in an orphan with neither home nor temple would have been more than I could ever repay — and now you've entrusted me with an honor like this. I hardly know where to put myself. That said, my learning is short and my tongue is clumsy, so I won't be delivering anything grand. I'll keep it brief. Congratulations, everyone. Today is a special day. Don't worry about appearances. Enjoy yourselves to your heart's content — truly, to your heart's content."
And with that genuinely short address, Yujin went and sat back down. It seemed a little thin for a celebratory speech, but compared to Priestess Veronica's endless sermons, maybe thin was better.
"What's with sitting off by yourself taking little sips? You actually enjoying yourself or what?"
"Frantz!"
As if he'd been waiting for Yujin's speech to end, Frantz — one of my many, many childhood friends — slung an arm around my shoulders and started talking. I jumped. It was the kind of contact between a man and a woman I hadn't had since becoming an adult. No — not once since I turned thirteen.
"W-what are you doing? You and I are both almost of marrying age, you know? E-even if we are childhood friends, being this familiar is... i-it's not proper."
"Do you have to be so stiff about it? Today's a festival. A little recklessness is the kind of thing that gets a pass today. Look around — everyone's doing it."
I pulled my attention outward the way Frantz had said, and sure enough, the young men and women were touching each other with a closeness that was strangely, unusually intimate compared to any other day.
Men and women shall not sit together after the age of seven!
...We weren't a village ruled by ethics quite that strict. But under Priestess Veronica's teachings, we'd lived so that grown men and women who weren't married never let their bare skin meet.
And yet tonight, as if some exception had been written into the rules, men and women had their arms around each other's shoulders, leaned their heads together, and drank with their hands clasped. The elders seemed lost in their own world and in no particular hurry to put a stop to it. Priestess Veronica, who would have been the loudest voice reining all of this in, was in penance until tomorrow and couldn't see a thing we did.
...Then maybe a little was all right?
Just a tiny bit of leaning against Frantz's hard forearm...
"Hey, you barely drinking or what? Your cup isn't going down at all."
"Ah, y-yeah. You know I can't handle this stuff..."
"Still, if you don't cut loose at a festival, when will you? Don't you dare sit this one out."
Frantz held out his own cup.
"If you don't like regular beer, try this. It's mild. Goes down easy."
"...Th-that's the cup you were drinking from."
"So what?"
Frantz forcibly snatched the cup from my hand and pressed his own into it instead. I'd never liked this pushy side of him. ...I hadn't liked it. And yet today, for some reason, my heart was pounding.
Has Frantz always been this... manly?
The forearm labor had built was thick and powerful, and his shoulders were broad by nature. Standing this close, I had to tip my head back just to look at him. I didn't really know, but the thing hidden under those trousers was probably like that statue, too...
"Drink!"
"Y-yes!"
The moment Frantz's order landed, my body lifted the cup to my lips like a cow that had just been whipped. I wasn't much of a drinker, but just as Frantz had boasted, the liquor went down remarkably easily. A gentle marriage of bitter and sweet. It slid down my throat smoothly, and there was less fizz than regular beer, which made it easy to drink.
"Haaaah... this is kind of strange? It feels a little different from the drinks I've had before."
"Told you it goes down easy, didn't I? You can actually enjoy this one, right?"
Frantz grinned, hauled over a few more bottles, lined them up, and then yanked me in tight against that hard arm.
"Tonight we drink till we drop. When else are we gonna do this if not a festival night, huh? Yujin said it too, didn't he? Today we forget about saving face and just play."
"Y-yeaaah..."
Frantz's chest was hard. His deep scent filled my nose and made my head spin. Was it the alcohol? My heart was hammering. That's right. Today was a festival. Playing just a tiny bit differently from usual was fine, wasn't it? God would forgive me... right?
"Nnnngh, augh... hyuuuuuuu..."
"Heh. What's wrong? You drunk?"
"I-I'm not drunk...!"
That was a bluff. Maybe I was a tiny bit drunk. The liquor tasted better than usual, somehow. And the mood swirling around us was so lively. I'd been gulping down that easy-drinking stuff, and before I knew it my head was spinning, my body was hot, and I had this restless feeling I couldn't put a name to. Until now I'd barely done more than pretend to drink. How long had it been since I'd actually gotten drunk like this?
"Not drunk, huh? Sure looks like you are to me. Go on, then. Prove it."
The moment he said it, Frantz reached the hand he'd had draped over my shoulder and grabbed my breast.
This baaastard. He thinks he can treat me like a joke just because he's been drinking! I'll slap that hand away and put him in his place!
"Pyaaaaaaah............!...!"
"Huh? Where's that chick peeping from? That's a weird noise, don't you think?"
Something's wrong... I can't put any strength in my body. I can't even get my voice out properly. No — more than that... my chest is so hoooooot♡
"Hih♡ hih♡ fuuuu♡ fuuuuuu♡"
"Hey, hey~ what's going on? Your face just went bright red. The booze is really hitting you, huh?"
"D-don't worry about meee, t-take your hand off my—! I-if other people see, w-what are you going to do?"
"Other people? Other people are so wasted right now they couldn't tell the sky from the ground. Nothing to worry about. And what's the big deal about touching your chest a little? Hm? We're childhood friends. Childhood friends. This much contact is only natural."
"E-even childhood friends are still a man and a woman, you know that. Hm? T-take your hand off? If we get caught, I'll be fine, but you, you'll really get in trou— ah! Don't squeeze my breaaaasts♡♡♡♡"
Frantz's grip tore into my breast the way a hawk's talons shred their prey. It hurt. It hurt enormously. But what was truly terrifying wasn't the pain — it was the pleasure. To have my chest wrenched this painfully and still feel so good my vision flashed white... this was dangerous. It was better than anything I'd seen in my dreams!
My scream was the kind of sound even people drowning in drink couldn't ignore. Frantz smoothed it over with a perfectly casual, perfectly shameless air.
"Aww, Laura's really wasted, huh? This won't do. Let's get you some air. You'll feel better once you get some air."
Frantz stood, propping me up as he rose. I had a feeling that following him from here would be dangerous, and I tried not to go. Then Frantz whispered in my ear.
My hips rose from the seat against my will.
A man and a woman in their prime vanishing together into the night — and not a single person tried to stop them.