Aisle Eleven, Almost Smiling

The hypermarket in Zanabia is designed for intention, not coincidence, and yet coincidences still happen there—gentle ones. Blenchy had just reached for a familiar brand of cacao when he felt a presence pause beside him, not abrupt enough to be a collision, not distant enough to be ignored.

He turned and found standing there, equally surprised, equally composed. She was dressed simply today—a white top and a blue denim skirt—her shell catching the soft overhead light in a way that made it look almost festive without trying. Blenchy, in a white tee and blue denim pants, looked momentarily amused at the symmetry before either of them spoke.

“Well,” Ms Snailhead said, smiling first, “this is… unexpected.”

tilted his head slightly, the way he always did when acknowledging both the moment and its history. “Only in Zanabia would running out of oats lead to running into royalty.”

She laughed, genuinely, the sound light and unguarded. “Former royalty,” she corrected. “Self-appointed, remember?”

“I remember,” Blenchy replied, smiling now. “I also remember thinking you wore the crown with impressive confidence.”

They stood there for a second longer than necessary, neither awkward nor rushed. The Comic Con memories—pink latex, loud cheers, quiet disapproval—floated briefly between them and then dissolved, as things often do when neither side insists on holding them.

Ms Snailhead gestured toward his basket. “Shopping for yourself, or rescuing someone else from poor planning?”

“Little of both,” Blenchy said. “You?”

“Mostly groceries,” she replied. “And a bit of perspective.”

Blenchy nodded, approving. “That aisle’s harder to find.”

They shared another smile, this one settled and easy, before stepping aside to let another shopper pass. No titles were mentioned. No grudges lingered. Just two familiar faces meeting under ordinary lights, choosing warmth without announcement.

As they parted, Ms Snailhead added, “Good to see you, Blenchy.”

“Always,” he replied. “Enjoy the rest of your list.”

They moved on in opposite directions, baskets a little heavier, the hypermarket exactly as calm as it had been before—but perhaps, just slightly kinder.