pounding mochi more like shooting pain

“Are you sure that you’ll be able to handle a mallet with that… injury?” Dan’s manner didn’t convey concern so much as skepticism, doubtfully eyeing Morgaine up as he set his belongings down in the back of the dango shop and rolled his shoulders to loosen up.

“Hm, injury? Oh, this?” Morgaine held out his left arm, flexing slightly and watching how the exposed bone moved. It was something that he rarely paid attention to or even noticed. It never hurt, and aside from his sense of touch and temperature being slightly dulled on that side, it was as functional as the rest of his flesh-and-blood limbs. He looked back up at Dan with a smile. “It’s not an injury, hoss. It’s just like that. I’ll be fine.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at the familiarity of his address, but led him to the space where a handful of perfectly shaped uncooked rice cakes sat on the floured work table alongside a large, well-worn mortar on the floor. A sturdy wooden mallet leaned against the wall nearby, and Dan picked it up before turning back to Morgaine and positioning himself by the mortar.

“The most important things are coordination and consistency,” he launched into an explanation of the apparently sensitive process of preparing dough for mochi. “You need a sturdy base,” he planted his feet on the floor in example, “and then a good overhead swing, and-” With a grunt, he demonstrated, raising the mallet and then quickly bringing it down in an admittedly very pleasing arc. The head of the mallet impacted the rice dough in the mortar with a satisfying squish.

Morgaine watched intently as Dan repeated the motions, beating the poor rice cake ever flatter with a rhythm and sureness that could only come from years of practice. Well, mostly he was watching the process of pounding the dough. He was also a little distracted by the ripple and flex of Dan’s muscles here and there.

Only a little, though. Really!

Dan continued for several minutes until he seemed satisfied and set the mallet down. He wiped his brow with one arm, though Morgaine noted that he barely seemed to have broken a sweat even with that burst of vigorous exertion.

“How do you know when it’s finished?” He asked, leaning over to peer at the dough.

“When it’s evenly flattened and soft in texture, with no lumps. Have a feel.” Dan prodded at the dough, inviting Morgaine to follow his example. It had indeed softened and warmed under the repeated mallet strikes, and Morgaine could tell that it would be more easily moldable now, all the better to be wrapped around various mochi fillings.

He realized that Dan was watching his reaction rather intently, and he quickly nodded and voiced his approval, just in case there was any doubt. “It really is incredibly soft, excellent work.” It had taken ages to butter Dan up enough to consider allowing him a hands-on experience in the shop; he wasn’t about to ruin it by not expressing his appreciation enough and offending the famously proud confectioner.

Dan grunted at him in reply but seemed pleased, and Morgaine smiled. “My turn now?”

Dan picked up the mallet again and turned it over when Morgaine made grabby hands at it. It was heavier than it looked, good solid wood. The handle was worn smooth in places where Dan must have habitually gripped it during his work. While he got familiar with the heft and feel of the mallet, Dan took the flattened dough and laid it on a plate and then placed a fresh rice cake in the mortar before allowing Morgaine to step up to it.

Alright. Morgaine positioned his feet the way Dan had done, holding the mallet out in front of him like he was about to hit a croquet ball. The weight on the end was much more significant, but the similarity was there, right? He rotated the mallet so that the longer end of the head was facing down, grit his teeth, and heaved up.

“Left from the legs, not the back-!” Dan barked from his side, but it was already too late. Morgaine actually managed to lift the mallet over his head from momentum alone before there was a soft, but definite and ominous pop from the middle of his spine, and then all the muscles in his back and shoulders seized up.

“Uh-oh,” Morgaine wheezed.

Fortunately, Dan was right there and caught him before he could topple over, quickly confiscating the mallet. In short order, Morgaine found himself unceremoniously hauled over and deposited into the pillow pile with an ice pack on his back.

“You were not paying enough attention,” Dan told him in gruff deadpan.

“I waaaas…” Morgaine protested, muffled by his face-down position in the pillows- oh hey there were a few loose carats in here. He waited for Dan to turn around again before sweeping the carats up with his tail.

Dan grunted at him and picked up the mallet again, returning to the mortar. “Watch and learn this time,” he said before hefting the mallet once more and going to town on the rice cake.

Morgaine did watch for a while, trying to pay attention to Dan’s stance and the way he braced with his legs without getting distracted by his thighs. It was easier said than done.

“I could do that now,” he muttered after watching Dan go through a few more rice cakes.

Dan cocked an eyebrow at him again. “Now?”

“Not… right now… ow…” He sank further into the pillows.

Dan snorted and went back to work. Morgaine sighed and just tried to get comfortable. At least it was kind of therapeutic to watch.