Home›Mochi Pool
Drag back from the white mochi cue ball to aim and charge, release for a fat clack, and sink every striped mochi ball into the pockets within the shot budget.
Mochi Pool is a cute top-down billiards game played on candy-colored felt. A chunky white mochi cue ball sits on the table with big eyes; press on it and drag your finger or mouse away and a power arrow grows while a dotted aim line - complete with its first-cushion bounce - reaches out across the felt. Release and the cue slingshots off in the opposite direction of your drag, thudding into striped mochi balls with fat, satisfying clacks. Sink every target ball into the six rounded pockets before your shot budget runs out to clear the table.
The rules are the honest rules of pocket billiards, softened for everyone. Balls carom with equal-mass physics, cushions bank true, and pockets swallow any ball whose center reaches the jaw. Sink the white cue ball and it is a gentle scratch: it simply re-spots at the head of the table, never costing you the game and never eating an extra shot. Only running the rack completely out of shots with balls still standing ends a table, and even then a friendly card racks it back up exactly as it was for a free, instant retry - as many times as you need.
There are 20 hand-tuned tables, each cycling through five pastel felt palettes. Early tables are open rectangles with a ball or two and generous shots; then the cast arrives. A wobbling jellyfish bumper boings balls with extra pace from level 6, the grumpy black 8-ball that must be left for last shows up from level 8, the felt folds into an L from level 10 and a round arena from level 12, a pocket crab shoos dawdling balls away from level 14, and one pocket drifts slowly along its rail from level 16. Level 20 is a graduation exam that stacks nearly all of it onto a round table.
Clear all 20 and Endless mode opens: generated racks that start at the final level's difficulty and keep ramping - more balls, more bumpers, tighter shot budgets - with every mechanic active from the very first endless rack. The layout is seeded by the level number, so every table differs. There is no timer, no score, no spin dials, and finishing any table always lights up all three stars.
| Input | Action |
|---|---|
| Press on the cue ball | Start aiming from the white mochi ball |
| Drag back | Aim the shot and set its power (further = harder) |
| Release | Fire the cue ball away from your drag |
| Tiny drag + release | Cancel the shot for free (no shot spent) |
| Space or Enter | Next table / retry from the end card |
| Settings (gear) | Sound toggle, table select, and the how-to-play demo |
Most video pool games hand you a thin cue stick and a spin dial and expect you to already speak the language of english, draw, and follow. Mochi Pool throws all of that out and keeps the one motion that made you love the table in the first place: the pull-back. You press on the fat white cue ball, drag your finger away from it, and a chunky arrow swells behind your hand while a dotted line reaches out across the felt showing exactly where the ball will go and where it will kiss the first cushion. Let go and the whole shot releases at once, a slingshot thud that sends the cue thumping into a crowd of striped mochi balls with a sound engineered to feel like biting a marshmallow. There is nothing to read, nothing to configure, and a four-year-old can sink a ball on their first drag.
Underneath that friendliness is a real pocket-billiards game. Every level is a rack with a shot budget, and the felt is arranged so the greedy line and the smart line are almost never the same. You can slam the nearest ball straight in, or you can play the angle that also drifts the cue into position for the next one, and the dotted first-bounce preview is generous enough that planning a two-cushion bank feels like a thing you chose rather than a thing you guessed. The balls carom off each other with honest equal-mass physics - hit a cluster and it scatters exactly the way your eye expected - so the table rewards the same spatial intuition a real one does, just without the geometry lecture.
The cast is what keeps twenty tables from blurring together. A jellyfish bumper wobbles in the middle of the felt and boings anything that touches it with more speed than it arrived with, so it is either your best friend for a carom or the thing that ruins your position. The grumpy 8-ball sulks in black and simply refuses to drop while any striped ball is still out - clack it early and it just bounces off the pocket lid - so you learn to leave it for last the way the real game teaches you. Later a pocket crab plants itself by a jaw and nudges any ball that dawdles too long beside it, and one pocket slides slowly along its rail so the shot you lined up is a hair different by the time you release. The table shape itself bends too, folding into an L and then a round arena where every rail is a fresh angle.
Nothing here can be lost. Sink the cue and it simply re-spots at the head of the table, a small setback and never a spent turn. Run the rack out of shots with balls still standing and a friendly card offers an instant do-over that sets the felt back exactly as it was, as many times as you like, so a hard table is a puzzle to re-attempt rather than a wall to bounce off. Clearing a rack always lights all three stars, because the celebration is for the satisfying click of the last ball dropping, not for a score. By the time you reach the round tables you are still doing the one thing you learned on table one - press, drag back, release - just reading caroms four cushions deep.
Press directly on the big white cue ball and drag your finger or mouse away from it. A power arrow grows as you pull back and a dotted line shows where the cue will travel, including where it first banks off a cushion. Let go to fire - the cue shoots off in the opposite direction from your drag, like a slingshot. That is the whole control.
That is a scratch, and it is gentle: the cue ball simply re-spots at the head of the table. It does not end the rack, it does not cost you an extra shot, and nothing is lost. It is a small setback, so on a risky pot it is often fine to let the white go in.
The 8-ball can only be pocketed once every striped mochi ball is gone. While any target is still on the table a lid covers the pockets for it, so if you clack it into a jaw early it just bounces back out. Leave it for last - once the others are sunk, it drops like any other ball and clears the table.
If the rack runs out of shots with balls still standing, a friendly card pops up offering an instant retry. It racks the table back up exactly as it was, and you can do this as many times as you like - there is no game over. The shot budget is generous, and scratches never spend one.
It is a fixed round bumper that wobbles in the felt and bounces balls with MORE speed than they arrived with. That makes it great for long caroms when you aim into it on purpose, but dangerous if a slow ball drifts into it, since it will fling the ball somewhere you did not plan. Give it a wide berth unless you are using it.
No - Mochi Pool deliberately has none of that. There is no cue stick, no spin dial, no english. Every shot is one drag-back gesture that sets direction and power together. The depth comes from angles, caroms, cushions, and position play, not from a control panel, which is what keeps it playable by a small child and an adult at the same table.
Yes - Endless mode. It generates a fresh rack for every table past 20, starting at the final curated level's difficulty (round and L tables, the 8-ball, bumpers, a crab, and a drifting pocket) and ramping up: more target balls, more bumpers, and tighter shot budgets. Every mechanic is active from the first endless rack, and each level number seeds its own layout.
Anime Mochi is a small independent studio making free, original browser games by hand in HTML5, JavaScript, and Canvas.