“What’s that… thing? Is it a puter?”Lay asks, staring at August while he’s sitting on a stool using a makeshift ptop, the half exposed mess extruding wires and circuit boards.. The s is cracked with barely any g and much of the interior is exposed. August’s fingers are dang on the rudimentary keyboard as he works.

  “Yes. It ain to gather the parts necessary, but it was definitely worth it.” August merely answers without looking, his fingers moving gracefully as he types.

  “It looks iing. But, what are you doing?” Lay’s voice is filled with i curiosity.

  “I’m trying to reach a taine. I’m trying to collect a debt from him.”

  “Is it w?”

  “No. Unfortunately, I don’t even have mediocre access to a work or eve signal strength.”

  “So…what now?” Lay asks, her demeanor now with a hint of being lost. “How long do we stay here?”

  “Simple, we leave. I need better i access, not to mention signal strength.” August responds dryly as he turns off the makeshift ptop and folds its parts for ste.

  “What? But where would we go?” Lay asks, her tone indig her fusion and bit of trepidation.

  “Northern Kabul. It’s a zoill outside of the Taliban’s reach.” August gives Lay a once-over, his sharp gaze taking in her details. “Her features are young, but her frame, especially uhe right lighting, is noticeable. Too much of a target… Could it work?”

  “You o blend ier.”, August bluntly says after some deep thought, standing up from the stool he was sitting on. “You stand out. Too much.”

  Lay frowns. “What do you mean?”

  August gestures vaguely. “Both your hair and your body. You’ve clearly been in puberty for a while now. If someone pays attention, they’ll know for sure you’re a girl.” A pause, then August speaks a little softer, “It is what it is. It will be safer for you if you pretend to be a boy.”

  Lay’s expression hardens. “That’s stupid.” She ches her hands into fists, gripping around the fabric of her sleeves, tense.

  “It’s safe.” August ters gently. “And, it won’t be forever. Just for now.” He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “We your chest, bind your hair, keep you uhe radar when you’re o me.”

  Lay doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t like it.”

  August sighs in uanding, kneeling slightly to her level, his voice quieter now. “I know. I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t suggest it if it didn’t help you be safe outside.” He walks to the makeshift bed, reag for one of the thin bs. He grabs a side and starts tearing out a strip of its fabric, his strength easily ripping out a long strip. He walks back to Lay, it to her.

  “For your chest.”

  Lay stares at it, then him, her arms ed around her body in clear hesitation. “I-I won’t just-”

  “Do it yourself ihroom.” His tone is ft, no manner of misinterpretation. “Just make sure it's tight enough to be ving but not enough to cut your blood flow.”

  Lay doesn’t mht away. Her eyes are stu the cloth in her hands, fiwitg slightly. “...Alright. I…trust you. But you really think this is needed?”

  “Like I said, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Okay.” A pause, Then, quieter, like she is ving herself. “Okay.”

  She nods ond walks away to the bathroom, the freedom to have her own pace.

  The bathroom is small, but it’s big enough that she move without bumping into other objects. The mirror is cracked, showing Lay’s refle as she scowls at it. She is frustrated as she fumbles with the strip of cloth in her hands. She’s tried more than once, but she ’t get it right. It bunches up, slides loose, refuses to stay in patter how tightly she is able to it.

  Her grip tightens on the fabric. Her jaw ches.

  “I ’t do this.”

  She presses her palms onto the sink ter, head hanging low.

  “I don’t want to ask him. He’s… I’d feel better around a woman with this, but… “ She pauses her thoughts for a moment. “He saved me, he had no real reason to. I trusted him and he did nothing to me in my sleep. It shouldn’t be difficult. Just… ask.”

  She opens the bathroom door, her heart pounding, with the cloth in hand.

  “...August.” Her voice is weak and quiet at first. She swallows and tries again. “August.”

  Footsteps. A pause. Then his voice, calm and steady. “Yeah?”

  “I need your help… with my chest.”

  Silenot hesitation. Just like usual, he’s processing her words to formute a respohen, “Alright.”

  He steps ihe bathroom. He doesn’t question her, doesn’t ask if she’s sure. He just waits, his hand outstretched.

  Lay hesitates, only for a sed, before pg the cloth in his palm. “I tried.” Her voice is quiet, almost embarrassed. “It won’t stay.”

  August nods, his expression unreadable. “Turn around, please.”

  She does.

  His movements are quid effit. ation, no awkward fumbling. He pulls the fabriugly, seg it in pce like another routiask. No feeling of his fingers lingering lohan they should. No sense of being objectified. Merely the work to be done.

  Wheeps back, she flexes her shoulders, testing the fit. It feels fortable, secure.

  “That good?” He asks.

  She nods, minute relief in her voice. “Yes.” Then, after a beat. “Thanks.”

  “You’ll need sleep. We leave by tomorrow m, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  Lay watches him leave, feeling a mix of gratitude and fusion. As the door closes, she takes a deep breath, reminding herself of the purpose behind this disguise. It’s a small sacrifice for the safety they need, and deep down, she at least knows that an avatar of death is looking out for her.