Chương 8: 05.Ceasefire in Shower Stall 05-1

I stood there for three full seconds. Mind completely blank. I slowly turned toward Lin Wei.

"What did you just say?" She leaned against the bunk post with an expression that clearly read Yes, I know you want to murder someone right now, but this isn't my fault, casually waving her hand through that cloud of discount perfume that smelled like it had been soaking in a supermarket clearance bin.

"I said this is an older-class vessel." Her tone was steady, carrying the particular cruelty of a doctor informing you that you can't have anything cold for the next month.

"So the bathrooms aren't separated by gender. It's a communal bathing facility." Reis added helpfully around his cigarette: "Hot water's not stable either. Sometimes it scalds you first, sometimes it freezes you. Depends on the main reactor's mood that day." Alvin leaned over his bunk rail, grinning like he'd paid admission for this exact moment.

"Welcome to old-ship living, little hero." I stared at him without expression.

"Call me that one more time and you become a little corpse."

"So aggressive."

"I just rammed a warship. Aggression is entirely reasonable." Han Xi had already stowed her gear and slung a towel over her shoulder.

"Want to go look?" I looked at her. Then at the three men in the room. Then mentally catalogued my current state: sweat, blood, ash, coolant, and medical bay antiseptic all layered into something that had stopped qualifying as human dignity hours ago. Honestly, the only part of me still in contact with civilization was my mouth's ability to form curse words.

"Let's go." I set my jaw.

"I want to see exactly how many more surprises the Federation has in store." The Federation, as always, did not disappoint. It could always find new depths. The old-ship bathing facility was at the end of the section. Not far, but with every step, that sinking feeling compounded. Like knowing there's a pit around the corner but not knowing whether it's filled with water, corpses, or a delightful combination. Lin Wei walked beside me. Han Xi followed behind. Objectively, we made a strange trio.

We weren't close—not by any measure. One of us had just rammed an Imperial cruiser and moved in today. One smelled like a perfume counter's failed affair with a triage ward. One kept her emotions vacuum-sealed for long-term storage. But when you're told you're about to face a Federation old-ship communal bathing facility, something happens automatically between any women still breathing. A kind of solidarity born from shared institutional suffering. Cheap solidarity. But highly functional.

The moment I pushed open the outer door, I understood I'd still been too optimistic. Steam hit me in the face first. Then wet heat, soap, old pipe metal, and underneath everything, the collective residue of many people having soaked themselves here over many years. I stood in the doorway with the distinct sensation that my soul was preparing to evacuate. The space was large. Unnecessarily large.

The center was a completely open communal wash area; behind it, soaking pools; along both sides, changing benches and storage lockers. Partitions? None. Privacy screens? Barely. Just a few token half-height metal dividers with roughly the same presence as the Federation logistics department's conscience. I stared for three seconds. Then another three. Finally asked, very quietly:"... Is this a bathing facility or an interrogation chamber?"

Lin Wei answered with the voice of experience: "First time seeing it, most people think interrogation chamber." Han Xi followed up: "After the second time, you just want to finish and leave." I stood there, so angry my shoulder wound almost stopped hurting.

"New ships have separated facilities, don't they?"

"They do." Lin Wei nodded.

"Which is why every woman on a new ship guards her access like treasure. Unfortunately, we got lucky and drew this antique." I looked at the soaking pool and formulated the obvious question.

"So how does anyone actually manage this?" Han Xi answered directly: "You fight for it."

"... What?"

"You fight for time slots." She looked at me.

"No official system. Whoever arrives first, whoever claims it first, whoever has the thickest skin and least embarrassment, goes first." Lin Wei snorted.

"And if you run into some oblivious male soldier who just soaks there playing dead, pretending he can't understand words—last time one tried to invoke 'front-line gender equality' as a defense. Nearly got a bucket to the head." I took a slow breath. Right. So there were rules here. They just ran entirely on whoever was better at seizing territory, better at making scenes, and more comfortable with ugliness. That I understood completely. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen.

Please report the violation. I stood looking at this monument to Federation cost-cutting, Kushima Heavy Industries corner-cutting, and collective bureaucratic negligence, and felt something settle into place. Not acceptance. Not compromise. More like finally getting a clear look at the enemy's face and realizing there was only one thing left to do. Hit back.

"Is there a hot water schedule posted anywhere?" I asked. Han Xi shook her head.

"No."

"Any maintenance signage?" Lin Wei blinked.

"... What?" I looked between them.

"Does anyone actually check?"

"Usually not." Han Xi considered.

"Unless something major happens." I nodded. Good. That was enough. I let a slow smile surface. Not a healthy one—more like the kind that appeared when convenience store security cameras happened to be broken and you happened to have a free dessert voucher. Lin Wei's expression shifted toward caution.

"Wait. What are you planning?"

"Solving the problem."

"Every time you say that, something happens." Perfectly honest delivery.

"That's because the Federation designs everything to require something happening before it gets solved." I tilted my chin toward the entrance.

"Starting now, this place gets rules." Han Xi crossed her arms, showing her first hint of genuine interest.

"How?" I held up fingers.

"First: women bathe first. Second: wounded get priority. Third: anyone who wanders in during our slot gets a practical demonstration of medical bay return visits." Lin Wei blinked.

"That's not a rule system, that's a threat system."

"Front-line rules are half institutional, half intimidation."

"What happened to the institutional half?"

"Dead." Han Xi actually laughed. Quietly, but I heard it. Interesting. So the ice queen did have a laugh somewhere in there. I shifted into operational mode. Honestly, this was simpler than ramming a cruiser. The cruiser could shoot back. A Federation old-ship bathing facility couldn't. We went back to Warehouse 6A to raid supplies. I pulled adhesive tape from my medical packet. Lin Wei produced a red marker from somewhere. Han Xi walked to the adjacent maintenance room and returned with an old repair notice board.

Five minutes later, the three of us were crouched by the Warehouse 6A doorway like the founding committee of a very unofficial, very practical underground organization. Alvin leaned over his bunk rail, thoroughly entertained.

"Arts and crafts time?" I didn't look up.

"Building civilization." Reis exhaled smoke lazily.

"Looks more like prepping a crime."

"Same thing," I said. Lin Wei had started writing. Her handwriting was surprisingly elegant—like her perfume, refined enough to feel out of place at the front. The content, however, had no refinement whatsoever. 【FEMALE PERSONNEL — MEDICAL CLEANING IN PROGRESS】 【EQUIPMENT MAINTENANCE / HIGH-TEMPERATURE STERILIZATION】 【UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY AT OWN RISK】 I looked at it for two seconds.

"One more line at the bottom." Lin Wei glanced up.

"What?" I took the marker and wrote it myself: 【KUSHIMA HEAVY INDUSTRIES MAINTENANCE ZONE — NO LIABILITY FOR CASUALTIES】 Alvin immediately started laughing hard enough to slap his mattress.

"Fuck, that's ruthless." Reis's expression shifted—the first time it had looked something like respect.

"You're actually well-suited to old-ship life."

"Thank you. I'm filing that as an insult." Yurik had said nothing the entire time. Now he looked up from his bunk, regarded the sign, and offered two words: "It'll work." I nodded.

"Exactly." Because that was the point. Not to convince everyone. Just to make most people think: It's only twenty minutes, not worth provoking the person who snapped an Imperial cruiser in half today. That was enough. I stood and pressed the sign into Han Xi's hands.

"Let's go."

"Now?" she asked.

"Obviously now." I rolled my aching shoulder, arranging my expression into something that probably looked like a debt collector on deadline.

"Best time to establish rules is while your reputation's still hot." Lin Wei grabbed her wash kit, visibly energized.

"I'm actually excited about this."

"Don't get too excited." I handed her the spare tape.

"The problem with these things is there's always someone too oblivious to read the room." I was right. We'd barely returned to the entrance when two male soldiers were heading in. Not from Warehouse 6A—different section. One shirtless with a towel around his neck; the other mid-yawn, radiating complete indifference to the world. Perfect. First test subjects. I walked directly up and slapped the sign against the doorframe with a sharp crack. Both soldiers stopped. One looked at the sign, then at me.

"What's this?" I was perfectly calm.

"Female personnel medical cleaning slot. Starting now."

"We were here first."

"Congratulations." I nodded.

"You learned something today." He frowned.

"Which is?"

"Front-line priority isn't always first-come-first-served." I pointed to the repair patch on my shoulder, then the membrane behind my ear.

"Sometimes it's whoever's closest to putting you in the medical bay." The second soldier finally recognized me. His expression changed immediately.

"Wait, isn't she the one who—""Yes," I answered for him.

"The one who rammed through an enemy vessel, hasn't slept, and currently has very limited patience." Lin Wei stepped up beside me, arms crossed, expression reading go ahead and try. Han Xi simply draped her towel over her shoulder and watched with complete calm. Two seconds of silence. The shirtless one's jaw worked.

"... It's just a shower." I nodded.

"Exactly. Just a shower. So step back, wait twenty minutes outside, and you lose nothing."

"..." I moved forward half a step.

"But if you push through, I promise you'll actually lose something." That closed the discussion. The second one glanced at the bottom line—【KUSHIMA HEAVY INDUSTRIES MAINTENANCE ZONE — NO LIABILITY FOR CASUALTIES】—and couldn't help muttering: "Who wrote this garbage?" I kept my face completely neutral.

"Policy did."

"..." They exchanged a look, then sensibly retreated. One muttered as he walked away: "Shit, the ramming girl actually lives in this section..." I watched them go. One thought: Good. Efficient. I turned to Lin Wei and Han Xi.

"See that?" Lin Wei's smile had a sharp edge.

"See what?"

"Reputation's usually a nuisance." I pushed the door open.

"But occasionally it's excellent for securing shower access." And that was how the Warehouse 6A Bathhouse Armistice came into existence. Terms were simple: women first, wounded priority, twenty minutes, unauthorized entry subject to social consequences. Han Xi managed timing. Lin Wei held the door. I made sure everyone believed it wasn't a joke. About ten minutes later, standing under hot water finally washing dried blood and ash from my hair, I nearly came to tears. Not because the water felt good.

Because I could finally feel that just got off shift from hell aura washing away. Lin Wei rinsed shampoo from her hair, reflecting aloud: "Honestly, I thought you'd be the type to just stand at the entrance with the axe." I wrung foam from my ends.

"I considered it." Han Xi added without inflection: "This version requires less cleanup." I nodded.

"Exactly. Genuinely mature adults always select solutions that don't require additional homicide." Lin Wei gave me a look.

"That sentence doesn't sound like it came from a mature adult."

"I'm fourteen. I'm not one yet." She stopped. Even Han Xi paused for a beat. Right. I kept forgetting that particular detail still had impact. Honestly, I forgot it myself sometimes. Normal fourteen-year-olds were supposed to be worrying about exams, clubs, whether someone would reply to their messages. I was worrying about hot water time slots, analgesic gel, and how to avoid committing homicide in a communal bathing facility. Remarkably well-rounded personal development. Lin Wei finally exhaled her verdict: "...

The Federation is genuinely fucked in the head." I wiped water from my face and answered calmly: "Yeah. But at least we have twenty minutes of hot water now." That was what mattered. As for interstellar war, Federation systems, Kushima Heavy Industries cutting corners, mixed-gender bathhouses and all the other large-scale social garbage—I could deal with those after I finished washing my hair.