Morgaine's Revenge

This was it. The moment of truth, the time of tribulations, the final countdown. The ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny, a war waged between bun and mochi by way of a really big wooden mallet. None could say how many casualties there might be, nor how many would survive.

In short: Morgaine was about to show this dough who. Was. Boss.

(It was him. He was going to be the boss of this dough. He was going to beat it in honorable solo combat and thus unlock the deep secrets of delicious squishy, sugary treats. And everyone would clap.)

“Remember not to lift with your back,” Dan told him sternly as he handed over the mallet and then stepped back to observe, arms crossed. “Keep your feet firmly planted, and lift and swing with the whole body.” He paused, as though something had just occurred to him, and then added, “And make sure you keep a tight grip on the mallet.”

He didn’t elaborate on why that pointer was apparently necessary, but Morgaine could imagine well enough. He wondered momentarily how many times the walls of the dango shop had needed repairs from buns accidentally flinging the mallet (or themselves) across the room.

Maybe Shibani would have some insight into this matter later.

“You got it, boss,” Morgaine said, planting his feet in a wide, stable stance just as instructed. Glaring intently at the lump of dough in the large mortar before him, he clenched his grip around the mallet’s handle, and once he felt secure, he swung it up off the ground.

“Hup-!!”

It was a beautiful swing, if Morgaine did say so himself (and he did). At the peak of the swing’s arc, he brought it back down with all the force he could possibly muster. “Hah!”

…Maybe too much force. 

The end of the mallet hit the dough and squashed it down to the very bottom of the mortar’s basin, sending reverberations of the impact back up through the handle and Morgaine’s arms, and splattering stray bits out of the mortar and onto the floor, Morgaine, and Dan.

Startled out of his fiery, single-minded determination, Morgaine blinked a couple of times at the mess, then looked up at Dan. Dan, predictably, looked thoroughly unamused, though the impact of his stare was lessened by the dough spotting his face and shirt.

“...Oops,” Morgaine said, grinning sheepishly.

“What was that noise?” Shibani appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He too blinked several times as he took in the mess, Dan’s grumpy face, and Morgaine still guiltily holding the mallet with the end stuck into the mortar.

“Um… enthusiasm?” Morgaine offered.

Shibani snorted and ambled over to Dan to lean on his shoulder. “Yeah? You sure you aren’t working through some stuff over there, buddy?” He plucked a bit of flavored dough off of Dan’s shirt and popped it into his mouth.

“Don’t do that,” Dan told him, exasperated.

“Why not? It’s not like it’ll make me sick.” Shibani batted his eyelashes at Dan and reached up to clean some of the dough off of Dan’s face as well with his sleeve.

While they fussed at each other, Morgaine lifted the mallet and tried to peel off some of the pulverized dough that had stuck to the flat end. “I may have gotten carried away in the moment,” he admitted, very graciously and with much dignity, like he wasn’t also covered in dough. So maybe he was working through some stuff specifically regarding this particular culinary art. That was his business, wasn’t it?

…Well, maybe if he hadn’t splattered the contents of the mortar all over Dan’s kitchen, it would be solely his business. It was harder to make that argument when the resulting mess was all over Dan’s literal business.

Dan sighed. “You actually managed to swing the mallet this time, so I suppose that we can consider it an improvement.” (It was Morgaine’s life goal now to get him and Primrose in a room together sometime. It had to happen.)

“Woohoo! Victory!” Shibani held his hand up for a high five. Morgaine grinned and did indeed walk over to high-five him. Dan rolled his eyes, but he seemed more resigned than actually angry.

He did clean up the mess he'd made, of course. That was only fair.  He proved to be much better at the shaping of the mochi after the fact, though when Dan turned over a book of mochi recipes, it seemed less because he was satisfied and more so that Morgaine could make messes in his own kitchen from now on, were he so inclined.

Look, when it came to the mochi process, Morgaine would take every win that he could get.