ME Cuartas
patreon
Chapter 240 - Waiting Room (IV)
🕑 Added 2025-04-01 23:00:03 +0000 UTCAyu stood before the mirror, dressed in the clothes that had been laid out in her room, on top of the bed. The set was simple, yet familiar, and strangely comforting—as if it had been tailored just for her.
The sports bra hugged her frame snugly, offering the right support without limiting her motion. The Muay Thai-style shorts rested low on her hips, loose around the thighs, allowing complete freedom in every step, every kick. She was barefoot, her stance easy, and her hair—still damp from the shower—clung in dark strands to her neck and shoulders.
The whole outfit reminded her of home.
Ayu smiled, bright and unrestrained, as she finally took a proper moment to look at herself—really look. It had been so long since she’d seen her full reflection. Lately, the shimmer of river water or the dull glint of her blade had been the closest things to a mirror.
She looked good. Not in a vain way, but in that warm, heart-thumping, quietly proud way. Strong legs, toned arms, the smooth flow of her skin over rebuilt muscle. Her shoulders were broader now, her posture solid. She felt strong—but also pretty. And for once, she let herself enjoy it.
Her heart fluttered suddenly at a thought she didn’t try to suppress.
I wonder how he’ll react when he sees me like this.
She bit her lip, cheeks flushing faintly. Stupid…
But then her gaze shifted—to her hair.
It had grown longer than she was used to, clinging past her shoulders in damp waves. Messier than she liked. She tilted her head, frowned slightly, and without a word, turned and walked back to the bed. Her sword lay against the wall next to it. She picked it up, then returned to the mirror with a calm breath.
"Alright," she muttered, rolling her shoulders, "let’s do this."
She’d cut her own hair plenty of times before. And her dad’s. Not fancy, but neat enough. With scissors. With a mirror. With time.
A sword, though… that was very different.
Still, after training with Alonso’s hair, it wasn’t the strangest idea.
She chuckled quietly, remembering that awful half-trim she’d given him—completely uneven, clearly rushed. But somehow… he never noticed.
Ayu took a deep breath, raised a strand, and drew the blade carefully.
Snip.
A clean cut. Not perfect, but not bad either.
The first few strands came off cleaner than expected. Encouraged, she kept going, measuring by feel more than sight, focusing, steady hands guiding the flat of the blade.
A few slips. A too-short edge. One bit snipped sideways.
“Oops,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose.
Focus…
She adjusted. Slowed down. Worked her way around, patient, calm.
When she finally lowered the blade and brushed her fingers through her hair, she exhaled in satisfaction. It felt lighter. Fresher.
But as she leaned in, she blinked.
“…Really?”
The right side was definitely lower than the left.
She turned her head, tried to see it from different angles, and then—
She tilted her chin slightly, gave her hair a twist, let it frame her cheek—
Oh.
She grinned.
A bit wild. A little uneven. But it suited her.
She liked it.
She crouched down beside the scattered strands of hair on the smooth white floor, clicking her tongue.
No picker, no broom…
With a small sigh, she flattened her palm and swept the loose clumps together in one fluid motion—fast, precise, like gathering leaves with a single strike.
She stood, crossed the room, and with a quick flick of her wrist, launched the gathered strands in a clean arc toward the rectangular disposal slot near the wall.
She gave her hands a quick rinse at the shower, wiping the stray bits of hair from her fingers, then tapped into her waves to check if Alonso had replied.
Ah. Finally.
I will be taking a shower.
I will send you an invite when I am ready.
Wear casual clothes, no boots, and bring some of your food, plate, and a chair.
Love U, Ayu.
Then his reply came through:
My bad, was caught up with the training. I’ll take a quick shower. Send me the invite anytime. Love you too.
She smiled, shaking her head slightly.
“Of course you were,” she muttered under her breath, not without affection.
She hoped he’d made some kind of progress with that whole Pillar thing. He’d been so caught up in it lately.
A quick check showed the others had also responded to her message.
Good. Time to get things ready.
Ayu moved the table to the center of the room, dragging her only chair next to it.
Then she walked over to the large white container holding the food and tried to shift it closer—but it didn’t budge. Huh. Odd. She gave it another go, with more strength this time. Still nothing.
Well… whatever. She could just serve from there.
Once everything was in place, she sent the invitation to Alonso.
Shemson. That was a weird surname. All Western names sounded strange to her, but still… that one had a funny ring to it. Wait—if they ever had a kid, would it also have that weird surname?
She laughed. Well, it should be fine. No one would dare bully her kid with her around.
She liked thinking about it sometimes—little glimpses of a happy future together, forming a family and all. But she knew those things would have to wait until after they left the Tower. Here, they were just… dreams. But dreams she would fight for with everything she had.
And speaking of kids, it couldn’t even happen now. Since arriving in the Tower, her menstrual cycle—like every other woman’s—had stopped. As if the place itself rejected the idea of new life. Which, in a way, made sense. Who would want to bring a child into this brutal place?
Her thoughts drifted.
And then Alonso appeared.
Her smile widened the moment she saw him. His hair was still damp, a few strands clinging to his forehead. In one hand, he carried a chair. In the other, a plate piled high with yellow rice and what looked like seafood.
But what caught her attention most was his attire. It was the first time she saw him in casual clothes. A slightly loose T-shirt that hinted—rather than hid—the refined muscles beneath, paired with sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It suited him. Relaxed. Natural. She liked it.
Then she caught a look at his face—and nearly laughed out loud.
He was gone. His gaze locked on her like he’d forgotten how to blink, jaw slightly slack.
She grinned, stepping forward with a slow sway of her hips, playfully lifting her chest and crossing her hands behind her back in a mock-shy pose.
Alonso blinked—once, slowly. His gaze didn’t move, didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, locked fully onto her like he’d never seen her before.
His voice, when it came, was lower than usual. Rough around the edges. “You cut your hair.”
Ayu’s brow twitched upward. She hadn’t expected him to notice—he was usually hopeless with details like that. But before she could throw a jab, he added, “It suits you. I really like it.”
She smiled, satisfied.
He set down the chair, placed the plate on top, and before she could get a word in, he stepped forward—slow, intentional.
“I didn’t know we got different outfits,” he murmured, eyes dragging over her frame, lingering just a second too long before snapping back to hers. “But I’m really glad we did.”
Then, with that cocky glint she both hated and craved, he added, “You’re making my blood boil, Ayu.”
Her heart skipped—just for a moment.
But then she giggled. “Well, save the boiling for later,” she said, tilting her head. “I invited some friends today.”
“Well, I guess everyone’s here,” Arjun said with a smile, looking over the six gathered around him.
“I must say, it’s refreshing wearing casual clothes for once. You never know what you had until it’s gone,” Josh chuckled.
“True… but nothing comes for free in this place,” Arjun replied, his tone dipping slightly heavier. “Anyway, I’m glad to have you all here. How’s it been lately? Any progress with the paths?”
“Well…” Josh trailed off.
“It’s taking time,” Diego added with a dry chuckle.
Arjun nodded. “That’s normal. You’re working off secondhand guides—it’s bound to feel less intuitive. Just take your time. Even if you can’t find resonance right away, consistent application and slow refinement will get you there. It’s only a matter of time.”
“But you already reached First State in both paths, right, Cap? That’s seriously impressive,” Josh said with a grin.
“I did… but how long do you think it took me?” Arjun asked, his gaze steady.
“Five, six days?” Josh guessed, suddenly unsure of where the conversation was headed.
“Well, from your perspective, that’s true. But from mine, it was closer to two weeks,” Arjun said calmly.
His words shifted the air—just slightly. Josh opened his mouth, then closed it, eyes falling to the table.
“It’s nothing to feel bad about,” Arjun added. “Everything has a cost. And I’m satisfied with the exchange. If it brings me closer to getting out of The Tower, to seeing my wife and daughter again… then the price is meaningless. I’d push it even further if I could.”
“Do you think we can Awaken too?” Ishaam asked suddenly, breaking a brief silence.
“That’s a good question. I was actually discussing it with the others a while back,” Arjun said, his voice immediately drawing the group’s attention. “The last stage had a minimum limit of seven, which made sense—every boss fight was designed for seven, and so were the rewards. So while having more people helped, the stage was fully doable with just seven climbers. And that’s exactly how it played out.”
He glanced around the group before continuing. “Now, this stage has a minimum requirement of fourteen—double the previous number. That alone makes us wonder if the structure is shifting, if the challenges and rewards are now tailored for fourteen instead of seven. Which raises the question: in the last stage, there were seven Awakenings. Will there be more now? Seven more? Fourteen? And what exactly are Awakenings? Are they regulated by The Tower? Encouraged? Limited?”
He let the question hang for a moment, then went on.
“Maybe only seven could Awaken in the last stage because of some unseen rule. Or maybe it had nothing to do with The Tower at all—maybe it’s personal. Triggered by intense experiences, pressure, transformation, or near-death situations. We’ve seen all of that.”
He paused, thoughtful.
“Or maybe it’s both. A mix of the Tower’s design and the climber’s journey.”
Then his gaze sharpened slightly. “All I can say is—be ready. I’ve got a feeling we’ll see new Awakenings in the next challenge.”
Ishaam’s eyes lit up with resolve, his fists tightening slightly—only to be caught off guard by Arjun’s next words. “All good with the sword?”
“Sw—yes, sir! I really appreciate you lending it to me,” he said quickly, bowing his head. “I can bring it back if—”
“No need,” Arjun said with a soft smile. “It’s good that you’re doing well with it. As for me… let’s just say my path seems to lie elsewhere.”
“I personally think your path is cool, Cap,” Josh chimed in. “The sniper of the main squad.”
Arjun chuckled. “Sniper, huh? When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound too bad.”
Ishaam hesitated before speaking. “But… do you not like it, sir?”
“Ishaam, I’ve told you a dozen times—please, no more sir, alright?”
“Eh,” Ishaam smiled awkwardly.
“Like? That’s… complicated,” Arjun said, his tone measured. “I’ve been thinking about where Awakenings come from. Why they’re different for each of us. What decides what we get.”
He paused for a moment, glancing around before continuing.
“I don’t have a clear answer, but I have a feeling. I don’t think Awakenings give you what you want… they give you what you need.”
The group was quiet, listening.
“Each Awakening we’ve seen comes with change—not just in strength, but in perspective. In how you see your path, your place in all this. It forces you to rethink things. What you thought you were, what you thought you wanted… it all shifts.”
He let out a quiet breath. “Sometimes, the things we enjoy or rely on don’t follow us through that change. They don’t fit anymore. And we have to adapt. Like Chiara always says—The Tower is all about evolution. Survival of the fittest. And adapting isn’t always comfortable.”
Arjun looked down at his hand for a moment before continuing.
“Awakenings can be a gift... and a burden. But more than anything, they’re just another test. Not just strength or skill, but adaptability. A personal challenge, different for each of us.”
Silence settled.
“Anyway,” Arjun said, clearing his throat, “let’s eat, shall we?”
Comments
Silver Beard
Not the same dinner party obviously... thanks for sharing
