A warm breeze ruffled Kaitlyn's hair where she stood. Before her lay a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was all too familiar. A sign hanging above the glass door identified it as Chella's Italian Bistro.

The place seemed to loom over her. Rather than the inviting place Kaitlyn had grown used to, this Chella's somehow seemed… imposing. Uninviting. Even the shadows cast by the late-afternoon sunlight felt oddly foreboding. But perhaps it was just the nerves talking.

…All right. No more hesitating. Kaitlyn let out a long, slow breath. Time to go.

A small bell tinkled as she pushed open the front door. Her gaze swept around the small interior, its tables neatly arranged and cleaned. Little vases bearing fresh flowers adorned each tabletop. Philip hadn't yet set out plates and silverware, but they would definitely appear well before opening time.

She spotted Chella pop her head out from the kitchen. "I'll be right with you!"

Kaitlyn gave her a wave of acknowledgement before stepping toward the deli counter. Its usual assortment of cured meats and imported cheeses sat on prominent display, each proudly labeled with its name, brand, and country of origin.

In all my time here, I've never actually tried these. Not without them being one of Scarra's ingredients, at least. A quick scan of the eye-popping prices reminded her exactly why that was. How much for that prosciutto?! Geez… I shouldn't be surprised. Scarra's picky. Anything he's willing to sell in his restaurant has to be ridiculously quality.

"Why hello, young lady! Kaitlyn, I take it?"

She looked up as Chella emerged once more from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron with a warm smile. Kaitlyn nodded with a smile of her own. "That's me. Nice to meet you, Chella."

"And you as well!" The woman shook her hand. "I must say, I appreciate you reaching out. We could use an extra hand around here…"

Kaitlyn went through the motions of talking to Chella and getting a tour of the dining area. She'd long ago mastered the art of going on autopilot for things like this. Not all conversations could be treated as predetermined things like this, but introductions in particular stayed fairly consistent. Especially if Kaitlyn herself stuck to a script. But all too soon, Chella led her back to the kitchen door.

This is it. Time to really see whether he's changed.

A whirlwind of emotions coursed through her. It felt like every second took an eternity as Chella reached out to push the swinging door open.

He won't remember. Be ready for that. But what if he does? What if it's different this time? No, he won't recognize me, why would he? There's no reason. I've already said goodbye, I just–

They stepped into the kitchen.

Immediately, Kaitlyn was hit with a wall of delicious smells from Scarra's cooking. Normally, she would have savored them, especially after missing out on his cooking for a loop. But even that couldn't distract her stomach as it churned and twisted.

"This is Philip," Chella gestured with a smile. The formally-dressed tutor stood at a metal prep table preparing bread baskets. "He mostly takes care of serving and bussing, but he helps out with a little bit of everything. Like all of us, really."

Kaitlyn stopped and stared. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as she waited for his eyes to meet hers. And when they did…

…Nothing.

…Yeah. That's right. The ember of hope died in her chest. He's gone.

She'd known it, deep down. Of course things wouldn't be different. There was no reason for them to be. But there, as she stared into the eyes of someone who had once promised her the world, she couldn't help but feel her heart break a little more.

"Pleasure to meet you." He inclined his head slightly, but didn't pause his work.

Kaitlyn forced a halfhearted smile to her face as she nodded woodenly. It was all she could manage.

Thankfully, Chella either didn't see the strange interaction or refused to linger on it. She had already spun to face her husband.."And this big lug – this is the head chef, the master of flavors..."

The rest of the introductions and onboarding seemed to drift by as Kaitlyn floated aimlessly. Only her muscle memory and deeply-ingrained habits carried her through as Chella's words went distant. Eventually, she found herself standing before the sink. With mechanical movements, she started working on the pile of dishes next to it, dunking pots and utensils into the sudsy water to scrub them clean.

I knew. I prepared myself for this. Still… that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. All the preparation in the world couldn't have made me completely immune to this.

But despite that, despite knowing that it would suck and hurt and dredge up all sorts of memories she didn't want to think about… she had done it. She had stuck true to her word. Rather than run away from the problem, she was here once again, hard at work. And she would be for the rest of the loop. She would make sure of it.

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I guess the fact that it DOES hurt means I'm still human. Maybe I should take it as a good thing.

"Kaitlyn?"

She stiffened, glancing over. Philip stood at her elbow, eyes boring into her intensely Dang. I forgot how much softer he'd gotten over the loop. Seeing him now… the contrast just makes him look even more judgemental. Even if I know what's beneath that chilly exterior.

"Y-yeah?" The word came out with a croak. She winced and looked away.

"Are you alright?"

She blinked. At her evident confusion, Philip elaborated. "You appear to be in some sort of distress.

"Y-yeah…" Kaitlyn swallowed thickly. "Sorry. Just… had a bad day."

"I see." Philip hesitated, then nodded to the sink. "If there is any assistance we can provide or questions you have, do not hesitate to ask. Though it appears that you are proving quite able to handle yourself already."

She reached toward the dirty dishes and grasped empty air. Looking down in surprise, the entire pile had disappeared. Evidently, a little more time had passed than she realized.

"Yeah… thanks."

With a final nod, Philip turned and headed off to prepare for dinner service. She watched him go.

Well… at least he's letting some of that kindness shine through earlier, now. A bitter smile came to her face. Or maybe I was too blind to see it before.

Taking a moment to center herself, she turned to one of the prep tables. She needed to keep herself busy, and napkin folding sounded like a perfect distraction.

It's not running away. It's keeping myself sane.

***

A couple of weeks went by with relatively little fanfare. Kaitlyn settled into a new routine of work, classes, and lab. True to her word, Heather had managed to spin Kate's Kitchen into a perfect advertisement for Kaitlyn's line of spice mixes. They had launched the first one already to incredible success. In fact, it had sold out so fast that Kaitlyn was scrambling to make more. They planned to launch the next product soon, a development that had both of them brimming with anticipation.

A few times, she nearly talked herself out of returning to Chella's for work. What was the point, when her own business was booming? Money wasn't an issue, and though she wasn't yet at Scarra's level, she was getting closer every day with or without his teaching.

But despite the temptations, she forced herself to keep going. Working at the restaurant was exposure therapy that she needed, more than she cared to admit. Even if she did throw herself into her work a little harder than strictly necessary. Though she felt like she deserved a pass in this case. It didn't count as avoiding the issue when the guy was right there.

Besides, it's still a good coping mechanism. Maybe not the best one, but if I use it in moderation…

Kaitlyn took extra care to make sure that was the case. Each of her activities – lab, Kate's Kitchen, class, and anything else she chose to do – were allotted a set number of hours for the week. That helped to limit herself and reign in any temptation to drown herself in work once again.

The one thing she didn't cap, however, was the time she hung out with the three remaining male leads. Any time she spent talking to or going to events with them was fair game. Not only would that incentivize her to actually seek them out, but it also kept her goal in the forefront of her mind.

…At least, that's the theory. I haven't actually hung out with any of them much in practice. Though I have talked to Elliot in lab.

It might take some getting used to. But if she wanted to move forward, it had to be done. Her hangups would need to be resolved sooner or later. And while she didn't intend to throw herself into another romance ending quite yet, she wouldn't allow herself to avoid the other male leads entirely.

Soon enough, the first Bash Bros tournament of the semester rolled around. Kaitlyn found herself stepping into the study room that doubled as a home for the gaming club, its interior abuzz with friendlies in progress.

It wasn't hard to spot Ian. He sat in front of a setup with John, both of them already engrossed in a game. The first tournament was the one instance where Ian would be playing friendlies like this before she arrived. Every other week, he'd be in his usual spot, alone in the corner of the room and working on his laptop.

Guess I should count that as a small mercy by the game. At least it gives me some kind of in to work with.

Kaitlyn stepped up next to their chairs. She had intended to wait for the end of the match before interrupting, but John noticed her right away and glanced over. "Hey! What's up?"

"Oh! Don't mind me." She put up a hand apologetically. "I just wanted to see if I could hop on the rotation."

"Sure!" John looked back at the screen. "Just give me one second to pull off the greatest comeback of all time."

"Greatest?" Ian grinned. "You've still got two lives. I have to kill you again for it to be really impressive."

John panicked as CinnaBun began chasing John's Squeegee across the screen once again. "Nonono, no need for that! It'll still be plenty impressive, thanks!"

A few minutes later, he slumped in his chair with a groan as Ian ruthlessly claimed his last life. A victory screen appeared, CinnaBun standing proudly at the forefront with a disappointed Squeegee visible in the background.

"Alright, fine." John got up and stretched. "Here, take my chair. I'll grab another one. I'm John, by the way. This is Ian."

"Kaitlyn. Nice to meet you both." She gave them each an amused nod as she sat down.

"You need a controller?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Reaching into her hoodie pocket, Kaitlyn retrieved the one she'd just bought. "I came prepared."

Ian's eyebrows rose slightly as she settled in and chose her character. "A Corgo player?"

"Yeah. I used to play Ray-Chu, but Corgo fits my playstyle better."

He nodded and picked a stage. As they loaded in, Kaitlyn shifted in her seat.

Here we go. Time to see where I'm at.

She had a rough idea of where she stood. It wasn't like she'd managed to completely avoid playing Ian, not when their tournament brackets intersected so frequently. In fact, the more she improved, the more they ran into each other.

But last loop had been different. She finally felt like she'd made a few important breakthroughs with Corgo. And now, it was time to see if the practice had paid off.