This Student Life


Semester 1, Week 5

Gokudera's hopes of returning to his room incident-free were ruthlessly quashed when the dorm manager pulled him into the reception office, frantically informing him that one of the master keys had gone missing.

Back to work then, he thought as he changed into his uniform and went to inspect the security logs. The other Resident Assistant all but glared at him for his late arrival, and Gokudera almost felt bad for his week-long absence. Except he'd been stuck in hospital during that time, after having taken three fucking bullets to the chest.

He technically wasn't supposed to work until next week, but the upper management were idiots and the place was perpetually understaffed. So he searched through the master key records, trying not to think about the shitty pay, while his coworker went on a building patrol. It was a brainless task albeit annoying, given that the computer was still running on Windows 98.

Nonetheless, it didn't take long before Gokudera spotted Lambo skulking outside his room through the security cameras with that dazed, lovesick expression of his. And just like that, he knew exactly what had happened and headed up to the fifth floor, already drafting the incident report in his head.

He found Bianchi seated at his piano, and the missing master key lying innocuously on the piano lid. With a deep sigh, Gokudera closed the door behind him and pulled out his desk chair.

"I guess I owe you an apology," he said quietly. "But I'm sure you understand where I was coming from."

Bianchi nodded, her gaze soft behind her goggles. "I wanted to see you before I returned to Italy. To make sure you were alright."

He'd heard from Tsuna that Bianchi had set camp in the hospital's lobby since his surgery. And as much as he'd questioned her motives back then and believed she was sent by their father, it had felt...nice. Nice that his wellbeing actually mattered to someone other than himself.

"It's not much, but I restocked your fridge and pantry," Bianchi continued. Gokudera grimaced at the sight of his rubbish bin overflowing with ramen cups, and the burnt pot on the stove. He was grateful she hadn't tried to clean it up, or worse, attempted to cook. "I've also ordered Chinese takeaway through UberEats."

Gokudera picked at the scab on the back of his hand. "Thank you," he said. And he really meant it. "You didn't have to."

"It was the least I could do," Bianchi answered with a small smile. "This is a pleasant town. I will miss it. And Reborn."

"And what brings you back to Italy?" Gokudera asked. "Work?"

Bianchi's expression turned rueful. "Our father is dying. Stage four liver cancer."

Gokudera stared at the wall behind her, his insides turning numb. "Of course. His alcoholism has finally caught up."

He didn't know why Bianchi was telling him this. He'd never been on good terms with his father, and they hadn't spoken since Gokudera had run away from the manor. Why should he care now? Why would he spare any emotion for the man who had barely been present in his life?

"There is no need to visit him, but I would like you to forgive him," Bianchi said gently. From her bag, she withdrew a box of letters. "These are letters your mother had exchanged with our father. The last five were returned to the sender."

Gokudera's fingers trembled as he took the box, regarding the familiar elegant cursive he'd seen over a decade ago, on the presents given to him by Miss Lavina. The beautiful and kind pianist who had been his real mother. "Where did you get these?" he demanded.

"When I agreed to inherit our Family, I was given additional privileges."

Gokudera wanted to grab his sister's shoulders, to make her tell him everything. "Does he know I have the letters?" he asked, unable to remove the desperation in his voice.

Bianchi shook her head sadly. "Father is not himself right now, but I am sure he would want you to know the truth. As much as I do."

"The truth about my mother?"

"He truly loved her, Hayato, even though it tore my mother apart." She walked over to hold him in her arms. "The truth is written in those letters. You might hate us for what we've done, but when the pain becomes bearable, I hope you will understand."

"I'm sorry," Gokudera whispered, leaning into her embrace.

"Soon it'll just be the two of us, Hayato. And before that, I want to make things right. If you need anything - anything - I will help you."

"Maybe there is hope after all." Gently removing the arm around his waist, Gokudera reached over his desk for his USB and placed it into Bianchi's hand. "I've been researching on medical uses of Sun Flames, combined with Cloud Flames," he explained. "The world isn't ready for this, but perhaps you could get Shamal to look into it. In addition to chemotherapy, this might be useful to...Father."

She swept her gaze across his chest as realisation lit in her eyes. "This is how your bullet wounds healed in a week."

Gokudera offered her a wan smile. "It was a success."

"Thank you," Bianchi murmured, embracing him once again. "This means so much to me, Hayato. Let us remain in contact after this. Please."

When he smiled, his eyes were prickling with tears. "Yeah. See you around, sis."


"If you have the time to mope around, then surely you are ready to score full marks on all of your assessments," Reborn began ominously as he emerged out of nowhere. "Like that 3000 word essay, which I hope you have finished."

Tsuna squeaked as his tutor hijacked his seat and opened his minimised tabs. As a matter of fact, he had finished his essay and was just about to start on referencing before getting distracted. "Y-Yeah, I'll get to it now. Sorry."

Reborn paused. "You were browsing through internships. Interesting."

Tsuna glanced away, suddenly feeling insecure. For some reason, this was more shameful than being caught reading hentai. "There was a careers fair at uni today," he reluctantly explained. "After hearing Gokudera constantly talk about his internships with the top companies and the government, I thought I should do something too, since I'm graduating next year..."

Reborn peered into his soul with his evil onyx eyes, seeing right through Tsuna's failures and deep lack of motivation. "You're a third year student with no work experience," he stated impassively. "Why would any company offer you a graduate position, much less an internship?"

"Damn it, Reborn," Tsuna complained, closing the tabs with indignation. "Contrary to popular belief, I am very aware that I'm a pathetic student who will probably remain unemployed for the rest of his life. But couldn't you have allowed me to hope, even for a second?"

"Show me your CV."

Tsuna eyed his tutor with suspicion but complied. He hadn't updated his CV since his high school careers workshop, but he hadn't done anything new other than starting his Arts degree. Perhaps he should volunteer for charity organisations and university clubs to gain more experience. Employers seemed to love extra-curricular activities.

His phone buzzed and a message notification popped up. "Hey, Gokudera invited us over for dinner. He's ordered Chinese takeaway from UberEats. Living that rich life, you know."

A silent Reborn was the most dangerous Reborn. Tsuna nervously tucked his phone away and obediently sat as his tutor scrutinised over his past-self's work. His immense sense of dread was something he was all too accustomed to now. Maybe it was time to seek professional help, except the university counsellors were always booked out a month in advance and private services costed about a week's worth of rent per hour.

"Change of plans," Reborn finally said, grabbing his tablet from the coffee table. "It's time you get a job, No-Good Tsuna. We will start by fixing your CV."


On Saturday morning, Reborn ordered Tsuna to print a few dozen copies of his new CV, dress in smart casual and catch a bus to the city mall. They had spent the previous night working on his CV, and it had been an enlightening experience, if not humbling. Tsuna was still amazed with how Reborn had reframed his lack of experience into a strong desire to learn, and it made him feel a lot more confident in his own skills.

That didn't mean the stores wanted to hire him though. So far, he'd been automatically rejected six times. A few other places accepted his CV and told him they were either giving it to their manager, who was conveniently away, or would give him a call if there was a position available. One cafe employee had even tossed his CV into the bin along with a plate of half-eaten toast.

"Can't blame them," Reborn said with a shrug. "It's understandable that casual employees might think you are threatening their job security."

"Yeah, and look at me, someone with zero experience. I'm totally a threat."

"Be patient," Reborn said, shooting him a sideways glance. "We all have to start from somewhere."

"Even you?" Tsuna asked. "Sorry, but I can't exactly imagine you flipping burgers."

Reborn offered his usual mysterious smile. Tsuna was about to press harder for information, when caught sight of a weird crepe-paper costumed figure dancing at the entrance of a stationery store.

"Holy crap, is that a Namahage?" he asked, gobsmacked. It was kind of creepy, and the nearby kids had clearly gotten the cue to stay away.

"Welcome to heARTbox, desu!" the Namahage greeted cheerfully, offering him a box of lucky dips. Then she turned to Reborn, who was sitting on Tsuna's shoulder, his smartass suit complete with his fedora and sunglasses. "Wow, how cute! Is this your baby brother?"

"My boss," Tsuna deadpanned.

"I'm Reborn. My true line of work is assassination," Reborn declared, pulling out his Leon-gun.

"And I'm looking for work," Tsuna added with a small wave. "My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi and uh, that's a nice costume."

The compliment made her dance harder, and jump higher. "I made it myself, desu! My name is Miura Haru! Let's see your fortunes, Sawada-san and Reborn-chan!"

With slight trepidation, Tsuna reached into the box and withdrew a folded bit of paper. "Good fortune," he read out.

"I make my own fortune," Reborn answered coolly.

Haru's face was hidden beneath the Namahage mask, but Tsuna definitely felt a sunny aura coming from her. "Hahi, that's okay, Reborn-chan! And Sawada-san, you are in luck! I just hired another casual this morning but I'm looking for someone who can work on the weekends, and Mondays and Wednesdays, when I have uni!"

Tsuna handed her his CV. Eccentricity aside, Haru was very friendly, and the store did feel welcoming. "I can work on weekends and Mondays. I've also got a mid-semester break coming up so I'll be more available," he said.

"Ah, you're a student too! We attend the same university! That's wonderful, Sawada-san! Hahi, there are customers behind the counter, I will be right back!"

"And I'm buying that espresso machine next door," Reborn announced and disappeared inside the department store.

Tsuna rolled his eyes and examined the store's range of ridiculously overpriced pens. Nearby, the customers were a familiar pineapple-haired man wearing a black suit and Dokuro, the one-eyed girl who had contributed absolutely nothing to Tsuna's English group assignment. They were buying an assortment of Copic markers, and when Pineapple pulled out his wallet, she pushed it away. With slight hurt betraying his features, he wandered over to Tsuna.

"We meet again," the man greeted as if he had all the time in the world. "Hello, Tsunayoshi."

"Um hi, Pineapple." Crap. It was bad manners but Tsuna had completely forgotten his name. He vaguely remembered that his first name had rhymed with his surname.

"It's Rokudo Mukuro," Pineapple corrected, his smile a bit too forced. "I see you are applying for a job here."

"Uh yeah," Tsuna replied, sticking in his earbuds in hopes that Mukuro would leave him alone.

"Kufufufu. Customer service is an extremely valuable skill. It will take you far in life."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm sure it has been most useful in your...career choices." Not that Tsuna was really in a position to judge. Drug dealers made a shitton of money, money Tsuna would never see unless he became a mafia boss or won the lottery.

"Precisely," Mukuro replied, checking his text messages on his Samsung Galaxy 8 Plus. It was a gorgeous phone. Tsuna hated him. "We all have to start from somewhere."

That was exactly what Reborn had said. "And where was that?" Tsuna asked, although he wasn't sure if wanted to know the answer.

Mukuro glanced up and smirked at him eerily. "How did I learn customer service? Oh, by stabbing people and pulling out their organs, I think."