Summary: Rokudo Mukuro passes a strange kid on his way to school every day. They never talk, but over the years, they develop a strange kind of almost-friendship through scribbled messages on post-it notes. Three-shot. Drabbles.

He was just seven years old, and after days of begging, Rokudo Mukuro had finally convinced his parents to let him continue attending school in Kokuyo after their move to Namimori.

Namimori Elementary was only a three minute walk from their new home, but Mukuro didn't know anyone there, and he really didn't want to leave behind his friends.

After all, what would Ken, Chikusa, and his precious Nagi do without him?

His parents had been hesitant, at first, at the idea of their young son walking the fifteen minutes it would take him to reach his current elementary school. But Mukuro had always been mature for his age, and since Namimori was a very quiet, safe town with an extremely low crime rate, they had eventually conceded.

And so it happened that, the day after the Rokudo family had moved into their new home, young Mukuro was in a good mood as he walked to school, relieved that he would not be leaving all his friends behind.

On his way, however, he encountered a child a year or two younger than him, with fluffy brown hair, caramel eyes, and a sweet round face.

He was going in the opposite direction, and when they met in the middle of the sidewalk, he said to Mukuro, "You're going the wrong way. School is in that direction."

Mukuro crossed his arms.

"I go to school in Kokuyo," he said, a bit annoyed that the other boy would immediately assume that he was lost.

"Oh..." he replied. And then, after a moment, "...why?"

His brows furrowing, Mukuro asked, "What do you mean, 'why'?"

The kid pointed back towards his school again.

"Nami elementary is closer."

"Well I DON'T want to GO THERE!" Mukuro yelled back at him before storming past him, his mood suddenly foul.

All through class and recess and lunch, Sawada Tsunayoshi fretted about the encounter he had had in the morning with the boy who went to school in Kokuyo.

He hadn't meant to make him mad.

Honest.

He was just confused.

And curious.

And maybe hoping to make a new friend.

He was still trying to think of a way to make things better when the answer came to him in the form of a class activity.

Their sensei asked them a question, and had them all write down their answers on sticky notes and they had a discussion afterwards.

Tsuna didn't pay much attention to the discussion though, because he had suddenly had a wonderful idea.

And so, once class was over, he approached his teacher, and asked if he could have one more sticky note.

Kneeling down so that she was on eye level with him, she asked, "And what do you need it for, Tsuna-kun?"

Tsuna looked down, suddenly shy, and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"I made someone upset," he mumbled, his little mouth turned downwards into a frown. "And I need to apologize to him."

"And you need a sticky note for that?" asked the teacher, somewhat bemused.

"Yeah," replied Tsuna, and didn't elaborate.

The teacher stared at him for a few moments before finally conceding with an amused laugh.

"Here," she said, handing him the rest of the unused notes.

He stared at the thick stack, eyes wide.

He'd only needed one.

But at his teacher's urging, he took the stack, and beamed a grateful smile at her.

Taking out a pen, he wrote one word on the top sticky as neatly as he could, and clutched that sticky in his hand the entire way home, hoping that he might run into the other boy again.

He was halfway home when he and the other boy ran into each other again.

The other boy, who still seemed to be in a foul mood, seemed about to pass right on by.

But Tsuna, gathering all his courage, stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop.

The boy glared at him, as if to ask what he wanted, and without a word, Tsuna handed him the note, and quickly scampered off, not wanting to be yelled at again.

Behind him, the boy stared down at the note, perplexed.

And he couldn't help the loud, amused laugh that escaped when he saw that there was only one word written on it.

Sorry.