Mochi Making

The thunderous booms of fireworks went off. Ink doubted that they ever fully stopped during the month-long festival. The longest he had counted before he heard a distant boom was maybe one hundred and after that the loud popping went off for hours. Mochi Moon was never silent from the moment a new year started it was guaranteed to be loud and sleepless for the priest.

Ink raised his mallet up before swiftly bringing it down on the mochigome. Red eyes stayed focused on the sticky rice flour as he tirelessly pounded away at it. Most other buns focused on eating any and all mochi they could get their greedy hands on. There were few that actually remembered what the whole point of Mochi Moon even was. Though, maybe for them it had long since turned into simply a way to bring about the new year. It was no longer about trying to connect with, and appease, one of their demonic lords. Ink brought the mallet down hard as one of the other church member’s swiftly pulled their hands away. They barely managed to pull back before the mallet came down. Ink only grunted an apology at them when they yelled.

Mochi Moon was somewhat important to Ink. He didn’t particularly worship Allocer like some of the members did. However, Ink did know of some of the teachings and gifts Allocer was known to so kindly bestow onto buns who earned his favour. Those who offered mochi the demon lord found delicious may receive a vision of something truly profound. Ink had heard Allocer was a demon of astrology, his own caretaker shared what exactly astrology was, the night sky. Ink had never been told just what a ‘sky’ was but from his caretaker it was infinite expanse. Something with no boundaries and held infinite things within it. Ink couldn’t picture what Baphomet had meant by a boundless space. Burrowgatory was vast, sprawling even, but it was contained. There were boundaries, limitations, that could be reached. Let alone the space above them. The cavernous ceiling contained them, even with the strange portal it was inescapable.

Ink brought the mallet down. His eyes watching as the mochigome neared completion. Ink wanted to know what this sky looked like. He wanted to know what infinity was like. Even if it was just for one fleeting vision, for just one night. To see something that was vast, empty, uncontained and free. Ink’s mallet slammed down into the mochigome. The pounding picking up in rhythm and pace. What is it like to see something like the sky? Does it truly mean anything? Ink would never get to see it with his own eyes, he’d never be truly under it. He’d never be free enough to experience something like a world with no ceiling. Ink could feel sweat starting to bead up on his forehead as the sticky flour was beaten to perfection. The bun’s mallet stayed by his side as he took a few breaths, his heart racing slightly as he moved to set up a space for the mochigome to be placed on.

Allocer was a fickle demon. They rarely showed themselves, let alone blessed a bun, on Mochi Moon. Ink carefully prepared the mochi, taking time to make sure it was perfectly made and stuffed. Ink remembered talking to a bun who had been blessed enough to see a vision from Allocer. Dan. The bun was known for his skills at making mochi so it only made some sense that he would have been lucky enough to be blessed.

“Allocer showed me the moon.” Dan’s voice was stoic as the bun pounded at his own mochigome. “It was stunning. Beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was huge, larger than anything here. I,” Dan’s hammer hesitated before going down “there’s nothing to compare it to. It had this glow to it and then specks, stars, glowing faintly all around it. The space around it was pitch black and empty.” Ink took notes of Dan’s account. He had talked to a few buns who had claimed to have been blessed by Allocer. They all described similar dreams and visions. Some claimed to see other things. Celestial bodies of things unknown. Ink couldn’t verify those claims, but he still recorded them for the Church and his own interests.

Ink washed his hands clean. The crystal growths clinked against each other as he rinsed off the powdered sugar and flour from them. The mochi seemed perfect. A matcha flavour had been picked for the offering. Something slightly bitter and mellow. Something Ink personally enjoyed when compared to the sweetness of strawberry or the nuttiness of sesame. The priest dried his hands as he closed his eyes in a silent prayer. He doubted that any of the demons he knew of would answer it, or even hear it, but it helped Ink soothe his nerves. Ink brushed back a strand of hair as he turned to look at the mochi.

With a stride, Ink picked up the plate and started his walk back to his room. There was no better time than the present to set up the offering. While he did worry if another member would simply just take the mochi, either to offer it themselves or to simply eat it, tradition stated that it must be left out in front of one’s door. Ink gently sat the platter down on a stool near his door with a note. At least it was something to help deter any unwanted thieves from stealing his mochi. Ink took a step back, simply examining how everything looked before heading into his room.

It was better not to overthink these sorts of things and even better not to get his hopes up.