The moment Ian disappeared, Tanya turned to Assistant. "Don't intervene unless he'd die otherwise. Stay back. Don't let him see you."

With a sharp puppet-shaped nod, Assistant floated down to the floor and scurried outside, keeping close to the wall to stay out of sight.

"I want one of those," Olena said, sighing happily.

Tanya suddenly remembered. "Come to me when you have a chance, and I'll get your Summons done—you and Boris. Still haven't paid you back for the parlour."

Olena clapped her hands together and jumped up and down. "Definitely."

Tanya looked around, peering over the rows of cars between them and the back of the shop. "Where is he, d'ya think?"

Olena didn't need to respond because an indignant howl echoed through the shop, and the walls shook slightly, like a low-intensity earthquake. The industrial metal lights swung side to side.

They looked at each other and then walked to the back of the shop.

Olena touched the top of the crushed car with an annoyed expression while she passed. Up close, Tanya could see it wasn't just crushed; there were huge claw marks all the way down the roof and cracks surrounding a bullet hole-shaped break in one window.

If that was just stepping on it on the way past, then Tanya dreaded to think what Fifi was now capable of when she was trying to cause destruction.

At the back, they could see Boris offering Fifi a hunk of meat under torchlight. It wasn't like any meat Tanya had seen before, and it took her a moment to realise it must be some kind of monster meat. It had the slightly gooey texture of pate but with clear muscles on the flesh. He'd done an impressive job of butchering it. There was no flesh nor bone, and it even looked somewhat chicken-breast shaped.

Tanya could hear Fifi before she could see her. The beast's black curls blended perfectly into the dark corner she was inhabiting. Tanya's eyes were still adjusting from being in the sunlight of the door, and it took her a moment to make out Fifi's mass of legs pressed up against each wall of the corner as she wriggled and twisted away from the glinting chains.

She howled again.

Each of her eyes blinked on its own timeline, the red orbs reflecting Ian's torchlight as they blinked open and closed, like a skyscraper of little apartment windows.

Boris sounded exhausted. "Sit. Fifi, sit."

Tanya couldn't tell if Fifi couldn't understand him or didn't care.

They stopped a few feet away, and it took a moment for Boris to notice the two of them standing behind him.

His eyes were full of guilt and exhaustion. "I'd rather have her in a crate, but…"

"Ain't any big enough," Tanya finished, in awe of the contraption holding Fifi down.

She'd not even considered the logistics of this. Of course, she knew Boris had been training Fifi and keeping her under control, but for a monster this big, Tanya wasn't sure how he was managing it.

"Fifi, sit," Boris tried again. This time it was more feeble.

Fifi struggled in bursts of noise and movement before stilling again. Then she would try to spin in a circle to get more comfortable and remember she was trapped, and the entire ordeal would start over again.

Olena patted Boris on the shoulder, saying nothing. Then she disappeared into the back room.

Tanya wasn't sure what to make of the action. She supposed Olena was used to this with Fifi, but couldn't tell if she was escaping the mood of the room, or more intentionally leaving the two of them to chat.

Eventually, Boris reluctantly just tossed Fifi the hunk of meat. She devoured it. He sighed and walked over towards the workbench along the east side of the room, perching on a stool.

Tanya followed. She didn't say anything, getting the feeling that Boris would talk in his own time.

"She's levelling too fast," Boris stated.

Tanya sat on the stool beside him.

"Back when food was less of an issue, I rotated between normal meat and the monsters to ration how she'd level. She levels from eating it. The bigger she gets, the more hungry she is, but the more she eats, the bigger she gets. Now, we just don't have that much to spare."

Tanya instinctively thought through any tattoos she could create that might help. She could already tell restricting someone's experience would be an absolute minefield. This wouldn't be as simple as just coming up with an idea, and if it breaks, they have a useless or dangerous tattoo; this could completely break Fifi and Boris' Class entirely. She decided not to bring up the idea.

"How does it work, your Class, Fifi Handler?"

Boris smacked his lips together. "The more she levels, the stronger she is. The more I level, the more controllable she is. My main Ability is called 'The Houndmaster's Prerogative', and it makes my creations more obedient."

Tanya's mouth dropped open. "Creations? You could make more of them?"

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Boris looked surprised. "You didn't know? I suppose we haven't spoken in a while." His hand instinctively reached towards his face. "'The Kennelmaster's Blessing.' It was my most recent Ability from my Crossroads, but I've already vowed to never use it."

If he could barely control Fifi, Tanya could understand why.

"Why did you choose it?" Tanya asked, trying to be tactful.

He grimaced. "It was that or something that made her level faster. I'll combine it into something else if I get an Ability Merge while I have a Restricted Question."

"Oh?" Tanya said,

"That way, I could find out exactly how they will combine. It wouldn't be worth the risk otherwise."

Tanya couldn't help but look at the scar. She could tell after seeing the crushed car that it was done by Fifi. From the depth of the slash, she doubted it was even a full strike, just lightly grazing the skin, but enough to create a deep mark from above Boris' eye all the way to his chin. It became deeper the further down his face, until under his chin, Tanya could tell it had sliced some of his mouth clean open.

"She didn't mean to," Boris said. Tanya couldn't read his expression.

She was mortified. She looked away. "I'm sorry—"

"It took me some getting used to, but Olena said I look like Jack Palance" He studied Tanya's expression for recognition. "He's this action hero from back in the day. Stroking someone's ego will get you anywhere." Boris chuckled. It somehow still sounded so warm and genuine, even despite the situation.

The sound filled Tanya's chest with warmth.

Gettin' used to…

Tanya's mind drifted to Ishita.

"Have you seen her recently?" Boris pressed. "Ishita?"

"Am I really that easy to read?"

"I'm afraid so."

Tanya cracked her knuckles, suddenly feeling the need to move her hands. "We haven't spoken properly for a few days. She said I could come back."

"Do," Boris stated.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Go to see Fahad, and catch her in bits and pieces. Get her used to you again."

Tanya slouched into the seat, squirming under Boris' unwavering gaze. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Has Fahad told you what subclass he wants?"

"No?'

"His second choice is something that gets him a monster pet. He said he'd pick a mouse, that way he reckons it would get big enough he could ride it, but still bring it inside."

Tanya smiled.

"But what he really wants is any Ability that lets him bring artwork to life."

Tanya's heart melted. She felt her throat grow tighter as the emotion choked her up. "Oh," was all she could manage.

They sat in silence for a moment, Tanya playing the words in her head. It was unlikely Fahad would get anything that did either in reality; they didn't fit his Class theming, but Tanya doubted anyone had the heart to tell him that yet.

Boris opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like he was fighting with himself about saying something.

"What is it?" Tanya asked.

"I believe Ishita is close to fixing the Pact."

The words hit her like a brick. She somehow felt lighter and heavier at the same time. The idea of escaping that dread of every word she said with Ishita somehow harming her, intermingled with the grief she felt for how everything had happened. There was no way they could go back to before, and being able to speak freely to each other would just remind her of before. But even then, finally, for the first time since they'd stopped talking, there might be a way forward.

Tanya hadn't let herself focus on how much she'd missed Ishita. Mrs Eceer, Olena, and Boris were great friends of hers—she basically considered them family at this point—but Ishita thought like her. Getting to talk to another emotional and family-focused person like Ishita had grounded her like nothing else.

The hope faltered. "How do you know?"

"All I know is she found a friend of a friend with a Pact-focused Class, and she was very excited talking to Olena about it."

Tanya wanted, no, needed to meet this person. She suppressed every urge in her body, demanding that she go and find out who they are right this minute.

There were Pact-focused Classes. Someone other than The System was involved or knowledgeable about the process. She still had her Restricted Question of information. She skimmed through it again every so often, like something new would have appeared when she wasn't looking. She wondered if any of that would be new to this person—was there any trade in there somewhere? If that was information they wanted, then maybe they could trade it for whatever they knew, unless they were willing to just offer it and help.

"Your mind is going a mile a minute," Boris said.

It snapped Tanya out of it. "Sorry, just, wow." She waved her hands around, seeking words that didn't come.

Boris nodded. "I wonder if I could be a customer of yours."

Tanya blinked. "I already owe you a tattoo. Oh yeah, I said to Olena already, but come round any time I don't already have a customer in."

Boris nodded, "And I would like that still, but I have another design in mind I would like too."

"Oh, absolutely."

Boris cracked his knuckles. "What would you be interested in payment for it?"

Tanya knew what Mrs Eceer said about doing things for free, but this was Boris. "No charge, you're family."

"Collywobble. I insist." His facial expression changed, like he'd just processed what Tanya had said. "Really? Family?"

"Of course."

Boris tightened his lips like he was holding in emotion, and they curved into a smile. His eyes were always watery, in that old man kind of way, but it was undeniable they were mistier than usual. "I always wanted to be a grandfather."

Tanya was smiling so wide that her cheeks were starting to hurt.

"My Nan has always had terrible taste in men. You'd be a huge upgrade," she joked.

He patted her shoulder. "You're a good kid."

Those simple words brought Tanya back to being a little kid again, wrapped up in pyjamas two sizes too big, being tucked into bed by her dad.

"My dad would have liked you a lot," Tanya said.

"What was he like?" Boris asked.

Tanya tilted her head, buying a second. "He hated socks. Always padded about barefoot, even in winter. An' he burnt toast every single mornin', swore he liked it better that way."

Boris's eyes softened. "Mine… shaved every day, even when he had nowhere to be. He said it was discipline." This thumb rubbed against the wood of the counter. "The day he left, he smelled like soap and tobacco. That's how I remember him."

Wrinkling her nose, Tanya said, "I can still smell that fake lemon disinfectant in me sleep. Used to spend every evenin' fallin' asleep doin' me homework on those plastic chairs."

"Hospital?" Boris asked.

"Cancer."

"I'm sorry."

Tanya shared a sad smile. "Military?"

"Korea."

"I'm sorry too."

Boris shook his head. "He went out the way he wanted."

"Then I'm sorry for you instead."

Boris opened his mouth and then closed it again. He gave Tanya a nod that said everything he needed to.

They sat on those squeaky leather stools for a few silent moments longer.

Behind them, Olena futzed about in a chorus of clanking.

"Tanya," Olena called.

"Yeah?" Tanya yelled back.

"Didn't you say you need to get back for American girl?"

"Shit!"

Tanya flashed Boris an apologetic look.

"Do the right thing, and do it with discipline," Boris said in a low, gravelly voice, saluting.

Tanya patted her pockets down to make sure she had everything. "Somethin' your dad used to say?"

He nodded.

Tanya tried to do an impression of her dad's voice too. "Life's too short to spend on things that don't make ya grin."

Boris jogged with Tanya to the exit. They hugged by the door.

"They'd have hated each other, wouldn't they?" Tanya said.

"Oh, absolutely."

Tanya grinned, shouldering the door open. "Then good thing it's us standin' here instead."

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