From this day on, the Shimogumi will be allowed to carry the mikoshi, too, and the festival will get even better. But they mustn't cause a fight with the Kamigumi. If they do, the entire festival is cancelled.
"All because Kisuke went and started some stupid fight," Sakuzou complained. "It wasn't even that bad."
"Well, there's no use crying over spilt milk," Kyuhbei said. "What's done is done. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."
At the sound of his words, their mouths closed tight in dissatisfaction. You see, no one was sure it wouldn't happen again. Ten days ago, Kisuke and two others from the Shimogumi group had been loafing about near White Mountain Shrine when Densuke and three others from the Kamigumi group came by at the same time. Kisuke and Densuke had been fighting since they were kids and it was a sure bet that if you got the two of them anywhere near each other one of them would find something to fight about. That's exactly the way it happened that day, too. "Are you going to stand there all day with that sour look on your face?" Kisuke taunted, trying to pick a fight with Densuke. "Can't you even say hello?"
But Densuke wasn't going to back down. "Well, well," he said. "Look what we have here. If it isn't the Shimogumi bullies. Say 'Hello' yourself. White Mountain Shrine is the home of the Kamigumi's god, not yours. You can't even carry the mikoshi at the festival."
"Shove it," Kisuke said threateningly. "What makes you think you're the only ones who can carry the mikoshi?"
"Don't make me laugh," Densuke sneered, rolling up his sleeves threateningly. "As if the Shimogumi could carry the mikoshi. The Kamigumi always have. Shimogumi should shut up and get out of the way."
"What are you talking about? The festival's for everyone in Kurachi, not just the Kamigumi. The village head's going to ask Lord Kawase for permission and we'll be able to take part, too."
"That's interesting," mocked Densuke, puffing out his chest. "A bunch of limp-wrists like you carrying the shrine."
But instead of getting offended, Kisuke began to laugh, and Densuke lost his temper.
"SLAP!" went the sound as he reached out and hit Densuke across the cheek.
"I'll tear you from limb to limb," Densuke shouted, jumping him, the two rolling head over heels, fists and kicks flying furiously. Soon, their friends were fighting, too and before they knew it, two or three of the ringleaders from each of their go-nin-gumi had joined in the fighting.
It would have went on forever it if hadn't been for Genbee, who was from the Kamigumi and the oldest one there.
"Stop it!" he scolded them. "Spilling blood this close to the shrine is a terrible thing. We'll be punished."
Sure enough, news of the fight reached the ears of the government officials and Kyuhbei was called in to see Lord Kawase and deliver a strict warning to the participants.
Well, anyway, that was ten days ago and the Shimogumi was in high spirits; they'd gotten permission to carry the mikoshi at the festival. Each night, the two groups, Kamigumi and Shimogumi, young and old, women and men, got together to talk about they would carry out the procession.
The first day, April 18th, they would form a parade to go and buy the sake for the festival. Three men would lead them to the liquor shop carrying a big barrel on their shoulders while a drum and flute played music for everyone to dance to.
The next day, the priest from the Great Dragon Temple would be invited to a feast. At midnight, another parade would be formed and sent out to temple. At the head of the procession would be a paper lantern to light the way, followed by players of drums and flutes shouting at the tops of their lungs.
The two groups had been rivals too long, however. Little by little, the Shimogumi began to think they could outdo the Kamigumi and began to think up little ways to surpass them. At the Alcohol Ceremony, for example, the Shimogumi decided to bind their sake barrel with black rope instead of red. It was the same with the decorations for the mikoshi and the place-settings for the feast. While the Kamigumi planned on using all red, the Shimogumi switched to black. And once they heard the Kamigumi was planning on serving miso soup, taro, and red beans for the feast, they spiced up the menu by adding dried radish, too. And since the Kamigumi would be carrying their mikoshi to from Great Dragon Temple to White Mountain Shrine, the Shimogumi decided to carry theirs to Kurachi Shrine instead.
At last, the day of the festival came. It had been decided that first each group would stop and pray in front of the main gate of Great Dragon temple. Of course, until they were finished, the next group was prohibited from entering. But the two groups, Shimogumi and Kamigumi, arrived at exactly at the same time.
"Hey, Shimogumi, get to the rear!" shouted an angry Densuke from the Kamigumi group, red in the face.
"What are you talking about!" shouted an equally angry Kisuke. "Shimogumi was faster. You get to the rear!"
"Forget it!" yelled out someone from Kamigumi. "Shimogumi should pull back, like new rice!" It was custom in these parts that no one started in on the new season's rice until the last year's had been finished.
"No way!" retorted someone from Shimogumi. "It's not us. It's you. Kamigumi has to pull back!"
Finally, during all the jostling and pushing and shouting, unable to endure it any longer, the Shimogumi group knocked the Kamigumi's mikoshi.
"What the heck?" the Kamigumi yelled, ramming into theirs in turn.
CRASH! BANG! The red and black mikoshi's slammed into each other, separated and then banged into each other over and over again.
"Oh!" "More!" "Knock them again!" "Give it to them good!" the spectators cheered, the blood-lust rising in them. One of them bent down to pick up a small stone and throw it and, as if on signal, small pebbles flew out from the crowd, raining down in a steady patter from all directions on the mikoshi bearers. They tried to cover their heads, but blood began to flow from their heads, drip from their ears, and come from their noses.
"Stop! Stop!" "You'll kill us!" the mikoshi bearers pleaded, but it was no use, the crowd called out for more. Only after the public officials hurried over to restore order was the crowd just barely quieted down.
Lord Kawase was beside himself with rage. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded to know. "This a festival, not a brawl!" Five days later, the village chief and the top leaders from the Kamigumi and Shimogumi were summoned to the town office.
"Listen up!" he ordered them. "I have something to say. That such a quarrel could break out at the festival is unacceptable. The purpose of this festival, and allowing the Shimogumi to join in, was to make everyone friendly. To love our fellow man. To purify our hearts and minds. To worship our god! From next year, the Kamigumi will go first. They'll enter the main gate and make their offering of rice cake first. Then the Shimogumi will be allowed in. But because the Kamigumi was let in first, the Shimogumi will leave first. White Mountain Shrine and Kurachi Shrine will become the shrines for the man's gods and the woman's gods respectively. All of you will get along and become friends with each other! Do I make myself clear?"
The villagers bowed their heads and put on their best chastened appearance, hanging their heads as they knew they were expected, but as soon as Lord Kawase's back was turned they glared fiercely at the other, as if it were entirely the others fault.
From that day on, year after year, the quarrel between the two groups only grew. Kurachi Festival came to be known as the "Fighting Festival," with high spirits and many brave men, with many people clamouring to join in it year after year. Today it is one of Seki City's most precious cultural assets.
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 16