Chapter 1 – The Creation

The story begins in the quiet mountain village of Tsukimi, where preparations for the annual Moon Festival are in full swing. Lanterns sway gently in the cool night breeze, their warm glow dancing like fireflies. The villagers hum tunes as they hang decorations, prepare feasts, and fill the air with the comforting sounds of a village coming together.At the heart of this commotion, in a small, bustling kitchen, works Hikaru, the village’s most beloved chef. Known for his mastery of flavors and kind heart, Hikaru takes pride in creating dishes that bring people joy. This year, though, he feels a deeper pressure as his family has made the Moon Festival’s special dessert for generations, and he longs to create something extraordinary, something that would honor his ancestors and surprise the entire village.

Hikaru gathers his ingredients and begins kneading the mochi dough. Steam fills the room, rice flour floats like mist, and the faint scent of toasted sesame seeds hangs in the air. But just as he reaches for the sugar jar, his heart sinks—it’s empty. Panicked, he rummages through cupboards, scattering bowls and jars. “No, no, no—this can’t be happening,” he mutters. As he searches, he notices a small, carved wooden box, tucked away in the back of the highest shelf. Covered in a thin layer of dust, the box feels ancient, almost forgotten. Hikaru pulls it down and opens it carefully, revealing a jar of shimmering golden sugar. The sugar glows faintly, its grains catching the light like flecks of sunlight. Hikaru squints at the faint writing etched onto the lid: “Tsuki no Satou – A Gift to Our Family”

Hikaru’s eyes widen. He remembers the old stories his grandfather used to tell him about their family – a line of chefs who believed food was a bridge between the heart and the heavens. This sugar, rumored to have been collected during a rare celestial event, was passed down by their ancestors as a blessing. “The sugar of the moon,” Hikaru whispers, his voice filled with reverence. He never thought it was real, and yet here it is. With no other choice, Hikaru carefully measures the golden sugar, its glow pulsing softly as he mixes it into the dough. The room seems to shift – warmer, brighter – as if the very walls are holding their breath. Hikaru pounds and kneads, the rhythm of his work steady and focused. He feels a strange energy in the air, almost as if his ancestors are watching, guiding his hands.

Suddenly, the dough begins to steam and glow. Hikaru steps back as a soft tremor shakes the pot. Then—POP!—a small, squishy blob leaps out of the dough, landing with a light bounce on the counter. It wiggles slightly, its surface glowing with a soft golden light. Tiny eyes blink open, and a wide, innocent smile spreads across its face. “W-What in the world?” Hikaru stammers, dropping his spoon in shock. The little blob giggles – a high, melodic sound – and bounces playfully toward him. Hikaru watches in awe as it nuzzles into his palm, a warm and gooey gesture of gratitude.

“This sugar… it really is magic,” Hikaru murmurs. The words of his grandfather echo in his mind: “Food made with love and care can create miracles.” It dawns on him – this little creature, this squishy blob of joy, is no ordinary creation. It’s a living embodiment of Hikaru’s love for his craft, the legacy of his family, and his desire to bring happiness to others. “I’ll call you Mochi,” Hikaru says softly. Mochi jumps in delight, as if to say, Yes! That’s me!

Hikaru chuckles, but his smile fades as he glances at the nearly empty sugar jar on the counter. “Oh no, I need regular sugar,” he mutters, glancing at the clock. The preparations for the Moon Festival are far from done, and there’s no time to waste. Quickly, he scoops Mochi up and places him gently on a high shelf. “Mochi, stay here and don’t move, alright? I just need to grab some sugar from the neighbor. I’ll be right back,” he says, pointing a finger for emphasis.

Mochi looks at him with wide, curious eyes. Hikaru hurries out, the door swinging closed behind him. The kitchen grows quiet, the warm glow of the lanterns casting soft shadows on the walls. For a moment, everything is still. But Mochi, ever curious, can’t resist the faint shimmer of the remaining golden dough on the counter. With a mischievous wiggle, he jumps down from the shelf, landing softly on the counter. Slowly, he approaches the glowing dough, his small hands reaching out.

“Mochi,” he says with a wide, playful grin. The dough shimmers brighter in response, as if alive, and the room fills with a faint hum of magic. When Hikaru returned with a fresh sack of sugar, he opened the door to a sight that nearly stopped his heart. His once-cozy kitchen was now alive with chaos – a hundred Mochis of all shapes, sizes, and personalities, bouncing, screaming, and wreaking playful havoc.

There was a soldier Mochi standing confused. Another, wearing a horned helmet, let out a tiny war cry as he swung a skewer like an axe. Perched on a cupboard, a Mochi is looking up to the sky dressed in what seems to be Batman?

Everywhere Hikaru looked, his kitchen was overrun with Mochis. One was stirring a pot, another was sliding down a rolling pin, and a few were playing tug-of-war with his apron. “Mochi… what… what is happening?” Hikaru stammered, his eyes darting between the tiny blobs of mischief. The original Mochi walked slowly toward him, pointing at the now-empty bowl of golden dough and squealing with pride, “I made some friends!”

Before Hikaru could respond, a shy, shimmering Mochi with a clock-shaped symbol on his chest, later known as the Time Traveler Mochi – peeked out from behind the teapot. Startled by Hikaru’s towering presence, he let out a tiny squeak and instinctively activated his amulet. The air around them shifted as a glowing blue vortex began to spiral open in the center of the kitchen. The room quaked, utensils rattled, and the Mochis screamed in delight and fear as the warp expanded, pulling everything toward its swirling depths.

“Wait! Stop this!” Hikaru shouted, reaching for the Time Traveler Mochi. But it was too late. One by one, the Mochis were pulled into the vortex, their laughs and screams fading as they disappeared into the warp. Hulk Mochi held on to the edge of a bowl, roaring in protest before being sucked away. Viking Mochi brandished his skewer one last time before vanishing with a triumphant cry.

The original Mochi clung desperately to a whisk, his squishy arms trembling as the force of the vortex grew stronger. “Can’t let go!” he cried out, his tiny voice filled with determination. Hikaru lunged to grab him, but just as Mochi lost his grip, the vortex snapped shut, leaving the kitchen eerily quiet.

Hikaru slumped to the floor, heart heavy with guilt. But as he glanced around, he noticed something glinting faintly on the counter – the Time Warp Amulet, left behind by the Time Traveler Mochi. Its glow pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, as if calling out to someone. Mochi, who had fallen back onto the counter moments before the vortex closed, stared at the amulet with wide eyes. Determination welled up within him as he picked it up, his tiny hands gripping it tightly.

“No,” Hikaru said firmly, kneeling beside him. “Mochi, it’s too dangerous. They’re gone, scattered across… wherever that thing took them. You can’t go after them!” But Mochi shook his head, his eyes filled with resolve. “they are just confused, and now they are lost – I need to help them” he said, walking toward the edge of the counter “They’re my family”.

Hikaru sighed, placing a hand on the tiny blob. “If you’re going to do this, at least promise me you’ll be careful. And come back home.” Mochi nodded solemnly, holding the amulet close. A soft hum filled the room as the amulet’s light brightened, surrounding him in a shimmering glow. With a final wave to Hikaru, Mochi activated the amulet, and a small portal spiraled open.

“Good luck, Mochi,” Hikaru whispered as his creation disappeared into the warp, beginning his journey across the Mochiverse to find and reunite his scattered friends – who knows what adventures he will go on…