[Gift] They Trade Seashells

Disclaimer: Hana was not much of a beach person.

But because this was a company event, it meant that everything was sponsored, from the travel fee to the lodging and to the food that she ate. She couldn’t exactly refuse a free trip, even if she wasn’t too close with her coworkers, so she was here. On the beach. Her coworkers were in the water and she had a huge sun hat on her little bun head to shield her from the harsh rays of the glowing crystals (such was what she was taught in bun-school).

She thought she could at least hide away under the umbrella for most of the afternoon, but something did pique her interest: a couple of other buns were strolling along the beach, crouching down on the sand near the water and picking up what looked to be seashells. Actually, she liked the look of seashells and wouldn’t mind having one or two on her shelf, and the light didn’t look as harsh now as it did earlier. So, figuring that she should at least do something active while she was here (against her nature of a sloth bun, ah, she just wanted to lie in bed with the AC on…)

Letting out a huff, she pushed herself off the seat and started to walk, feeling the sand on her little bun hooves. There were quite a number of buns on this side of the beach, so if she wanted to look for more pristine shells, she should walk a little further towards one direction. The left sounded good. Without bothering to ask if anyone else wanted to go with her, she set on her merry way; one hoof holding the sunhat down so that it would not get blown by the cavern winds.

She only had to walk for maybe two minutes before the sounds of other bun activity faded away into the sea breeze, and she found herself enjoying her little walk more. The waves gently crashed onto the shore; she would have to move closer to get caught in the water, but that area was also where the sand was roughest. It was where seashells were likely to be found, since it was the final resting place of many broken coral and remnants of sea life. 

Hana walked for a few minutes more before crouching down and rummaging through the damp sand. Hm, most of the shells were tiny; too tiny to be displayed nicely on a shelf. She did find a bigger one, but it was broken and battered, looking rather sad. She hoped that she wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon some kind of Imp here - she recalled that the recent summer had brought about a new trend on sea-like creatures that were generally fond of the water. She was already having trouble with one Imp as it was! (How was that little Rabebe doing at home without her? Sometimes she forgot that it was there, she had to admit).

Eventually, after moving around and crouching down on a few other spots, she managed to unearth a rather pretty prize: a…err, what is this again? Some kind of spiral shell, for sure, looked like it was more or less complete, and it had a nice feel. The color was dark brown with streaks of white. Should she settle with this find, or look for another..?

“Psst.”

Hana yelled in shock, almost dropping the shell she just found. When she turned around, another bun was hovering over her, a little too close for her liking. Admittedly, the death stare of their face reminded Hana of her own whenever she would look in the mirror - she didn’t think it would be used against her like this.

“W-who are you?”

“Oh me?” as if there wasn’t anyone else within several feet on this beach, Hana thought. “I’mma seashell collector. I also like wampum. Ya know what wampums are?”

“No??”

“Ya know d’ purple part of shells?” they responded so quickly it was if they expected Hana to say no to the earlier question, “Wampum. Used for jewelry, very pretty stuff.”

“Uh huh…”

“So ya have any?”

“Wampums? No? Don’t think so?”

“What about that cowrie ya got there?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean this?” she showed the pretty shell that she managed to find buried in the sand. She swore that she could see the other bun’s eyes sparkle, even if they didn’t have starry motes like she did.

They nodded profusely, “Yes, would like to trade fer it.”

“For…another seashell?”

The bun’s face had an expression of horror. “What? No! Seashells are precious. Wouldn’t trade one for one. I deal in ‘goods and services’. Yer name is?”

“Hana?” she didn’t know why she sounded unsure, but maybe it was because she wasn’t sure of what to make of this bun.

“Hana, okay, I’m Cordelia. Cordelia’s offering a deal for ya, how ‘bout a massage in exchange for d’ cowrie?”

The starry bun blinked. “I’d rather take carats.”

“Carats are expensive. Massages are free.”

“Well I’m not exactly in the mood for a–”

“Oh!” the other bun’s eyes widened upon realizing that they might’ve caused a misunderstanding, “No, not that kind of massage. Just somethin’ for the shoulders. Ya look like ya need one.”

“I do? I mean…I guess work has been hard lately.”

“See, Cordelia knows! For d’ cowrie.”

“I was really hoping to take one home as a souvenir though.” she said with a whine.

“Hmm.” the other bun’s face was scrunched up, deep in thought, “Come. I have a shack nearby. I can trade ya ‘nother cowrie with d’ massage.”

“I thought you said you don’t trade one for one?”

“Will make an exception.”

Hana was not convinced, but it didn’t seem like they were a bad bun, so she followed them further along the left side of the coast, moving further and further away from the beach party with her company. It would result in a couple more minutes of walking before she could see the tiny white and blue building come into view; more well-put together than she expected. Cordelia gestured her to come inside, and the view on the walls and on the shelves should not have surprised her, but left her speechless nonetheless.

Shells. So many seashells. Different kinds, colors, sizes, and not all of them were perfect - some were broken but still beautiful in their own right, others seemed to be waiting to be repaired, if she guessed what’s the purpose of that workshop table correctly. Cordelia mumbled to themselves as they glanced through their collection, eventually settling on one behind a glass case (was it that important?)

“A cowrie for a cowrie.” they handed the piece to Hana like it was some kind of luxurious item. Frankly, the starry bun couldn’t tell the difference other than the color, and this one was slightly larger. Shrugging, she let Cordelia take the shell she found, to which she heard a faint giggle before they placed it on top of the workplace table.

“‘Preciate it, Hana. Massage?”

“Just a short one, I should be heading back soon.”

“Mm. But will ya come back to the beach? Ya’d make a good searcher.”

“Uhh, we’ll see! But oooh, that…does feel nice…”

Some time would pass between them, and they would exchange small talk about each other. With the accompaniment of waves crashing outside, it was a pleasant experience. Eventually, Hana felt she had overstayed her welcome and thanked her for the talk and for the seashell. “To tell you the truth, I don’t like the beach that much, but I’d go seashell hunting with you if you’d let me!”

“‘Course! Will be happy to have ya any time.”

With a grin, she made sure that the seashell traded to her was safe and sound before leaving the shack. Now it was just a matter of heading back, hoping she wouldn’t be stopped by other seashell snoopers along the way.