After a few very tense seconds of waiting to die, Pinky thought to read the label on the pill bottle. What had followed was a lot of cursing and screaming as they tried to get to the bathrooms in time.

Once, his little sister had baked some laxative laced brownies for her enemies. Zane, being an idiot with zero self control, had ignored her note and eaten the whole tray. Then he finished off a pint of vanilla ice cream, and went out jogging. On the way to go run, he had stopped by Taco Bell and eaten half a dozen tacos.

What happened that day was nothing compared to what Zane was going through now. The young man could feel his insides and his outsides trying to switch places as the double dose of cleansing pills worked their magic.

Some of the accumulated impurities were flowing out of his pores in greasy streaks. The rest made use of much more traditional pathways. Zane didn't know if it was possible to shit out your own bone marrow, but he knew he was close.

From the next stall over, Pinky wasn't doing much better. Her hair had gone white as the illusion coloring it dissipated. Thankfully, the transformation magic hiding her ears and tail held. She pounded her fist against the wall and tried not to call out for the sweet release of death. Instead, she settled for cursing Zane and his entire family tree.

He was impressed by Pinky’s knowledge of animal husbandry and foreign languages. She eventually settled on a growling guttural tongue that sounded like an Uruk-hai from Lord of the Rings singing death metal.

Sometime later, the flow of foul waste from their bodies stopped. Zane stuffed his soiled robes into the trash.

Pinky walked out to meet him in the hallway. She was also naked. Being naked was better than wearing those filthy rags. “I need a bath, and possibly an exorcism.”

Zane summoned an oversized wash tub and filled it with water from the cistern. The impurities were caked onto his skin and he knew getting them off would be a multi-step process. Zane should have been more excited at the prospect of helping a beautiful woman take a bath, but he was too tired to care and they were both covered in sludge.

Pinky, on the other hand, was very much aware of Zane's naked body. She looked dumbly at how his abdominal muscles terminated in a perfect “V”. She let out a low whimper, her diet was getting harder and harder to stick to.

“It's alright, I'm warming up the water and I'll get you plenty of clean towels for after,” Zane said, completely oblivious to the thoughts going through Pinky's mind, “I'll get a tub ready for myself next.”

They sat and soaked in silence for a while. Everyone who heard their cries and curses earlier had decided to give the bathrooms a wide berth. Finally, Pinky looked over at Zane. “Do you like women?” she asked.

The young man tried not to sigh. He knew why she was asking. Everyone asked him, eventually. “I'm not gay, I'm just really pretty. Do you like women?”

Pinky frowned, “Not particularly. I've always been more of an all you can eat sausage girl.”

Zane smiled and turned to face her. “Ok, follow up question since you just reminded me of something. Do you want to go get brunch after this?”

The kitsune looked at Zane with confusion. She had expected him to hit on her, or suggest they share a tub together. “Sure, Zane. Brunch sounds nice, whatever that is.”

***

Brunch was not forthcoming, so they returned to the restaurant. Thankfully the building seemed to have quieted down. The young man tossed a core to Daisy as a bribe to not eat them. Then he started making waffles. Zane felt incredibly fortunate that his class let him heat and cool things at will.

Once she had recovered from her unexpected cleanse, Pinky had gone back to pestering him about opening a restaurant. They had a location with plenty of foot traffic. Most importantly, nobody would give Zane a second glance if he pretended to be a simple chef. It was hiding in plain sight.

Eventually, Zane allowed himself to be convinced. He was still curious about one thing though. “Do you dye your hair?”

“Yeah, obviously. Pink isn't exactly a natural shade,” the kitsune said, wondering if he was catching on to what she really was.

“Ah, that would make sense.” Zane resisted the urge to ask if the carpet matched the drapes. He knew from their clean up session that she preferred hardwood floors.

They ate their breakfast in silence except for the occasional moan of pleasure as Pinky devoured her waffles. Zane was surprised to find out that he enjoyed cooking. He really enjoyed cooking. Once he started a recipe it was like he was unable to stop until it was finished.

Eventually, someone banged on the kitchen window and demanded to know what smelled so good.

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Pinky cocked a cotton candy colored eyebrow at him. “It's your call. Are we open for business, chef?”

Zane agreed to open the restaurant, but he made the executive decision to only allow take-out. He wasn't about to deal with seating areas or washing dishes.

They fell into a rhythm after the first few guests. Pinky took the money and warned people that the containers would disappear after half an hour. They actually lasted for twice that, but he understood why she was playing it safe.

An unexpected side effect of Zane's decision was that when the customers went off into the city, the smell of his cooking drummed up even more business. They burned through their existing supplies quickly and had to take a break to restock.

“Well. At least they like your food,” Pinky said as they returned to find a line that stretched around the block. Everyone from the traders to the guards wanted to try some of Zane's famous waffles. The fact that they were infused with essence probably had a lot to do with that.

He considered his options. They could run away now, or ride the wave and see what happened. Zane turned to face his business partner. “Pinky, let's cook.”

***

The trader ran down to the clerk's office once they were done and purchased the restaurant. She wasn't going to tempt fate by waiting. It would be too easy for a shrewd city official to notice their success and decide to raise the sale price.

Plus, this way the dates of their grand opening and purchase would match. Nobody could accuse them of squatting in the building and come after them with their hands out.

Meanwhile, Zane was dealing with the local guild. There was a mix of moods on display. Some were adamant that he pursue an apprenticeship before being allowed to call himself a chef. Others were happy to see someone with real talent arrive on what was a rather stagnant culinary scene.

“Enough of this!” called out a muscular chef with legs like tree trunks and the stomach to match. “If Zane is so confident in his skills, he won't hesitate to accept my challenge.”

The young man bowed. “I had hoped to avoid this, but I accept. Prepare yourself for defeat.”

The muscular chef grinned. His summer quiche recipe was unbeatable. He couldn't wait to see the newcomer’s face when they realized who he was.

A few seconds later he was laying on the ground, bruised and broken, but alive. One of the guild leaders ran over and whispered something in Zane's ear.

The young man slapped his forehead and went to lift the man up, “I’m so sorry. You should have specified the kind of challenge.”

The guild leaders argued amongst themselves. Zane had willingly misinterpreted the nature of a challenge in order to win. But he hadn't technically broken any rules. The most senior member sighed. That was exactly the kind of thing a chef would do.

“Ok, Zane. I guess you can join the guild,” the old man said.

Zane punched the air, accidentally creating little sonic booms in his excitement. “Hell yeah!”

***

The nice thing about only doing brunch was that Zane got to sleep in. Unfortunately, the restaurant itself didn't believe in laziness. It woke him up every morning at the unholy hour of six.

They had moved out of the hotel and taken up residence in the upper level of the restaurant. Converting the private dining room to a bedroom had been easy enough. Though, Zane wasn't sure why the divider he put up kept collapsing. Eventually he got sick of repairing it.

Pinky didn't seem to mind the lack of privacy. She must have felt comfortable with him after their shared tribulations. In fact, sometimes she got confused and crawled in his bed by accident.

Zane considered teasing her about it the next morning, but didn't. He was worried she might decide to stop. It was nice to have her sharing his bed, even if she did get a bit grabby.

I can't believe someone so hot is this oblivious, Pinky thought as she slipped off her clothes and crawled into bed next to Zane. The kitsune had been doing everything she could to get him to make the first move, cleanse be damned.

She sighed and tapped him on the shoulder. Desperate times called for desperate measures. “Hey. Zane,” she called out, “I just realized that I've been going about this all wrong.”

He rolled over groggily. “What are you talking about?”

Pinky tried to answer, but she lost her nerve. “It's nothing. Go back to sleep.”

***

It didn't take long for the first gangster to show up looking to charge them protection money. Zane was not impressed, but he was polite.

“Fine, I can see you're serious so I'll tell you what. Go around back, tap on the door three times and tell them you're there to do a pickup. They'll know what to do.”

The man thanked him and strutted around back. He knocked on the door three times and said he was there for a pickup. The door opened, but he couldn't see anyone inside the loading area. There was a rather fine horse though.

He took a second to admire the creature before approaching. “You'll do nicely,” the gangster said as he looked around for a bit and bridle.

Daisy didn't reply. She had orders from the Awakener to play along. Hopefully they would take her to their base. Then, the real fun could begin.

***

“That's one big fucking horse,” observed the boss.

Daisy looked around the hideout. She was in an old warehouse near the outer wall of the city. The tunnel that traveled under that said wall was bustling with activity.

She waited for them to close and bar the warehouse doors before she made her move. The horse slammed her hooves on the ground, sending out a shockwave that collapsed the smuggling tunnel.

None of the vermin who dared to threaten the Awakener were much of a challenge. They fell under her mighty hooves and were consumed. She briefly lamented the loss of the morsels trapped in the tunnel. But Daisy’s attention quickly moved on to bigger and better things.

For starters, she was very curious what was in the crates.