This is crack. Pure crack.

.

"You work for the Mafia," Tsuna points at his Math tutor.

Reborn doesn't even twitch, the bastard. In hindsight, Tsuna doesn't understand why he didn't suspect Reborn sooner.

"You work for the Yakuza," Tsuna gestures to his boss. Pointing would probably have it removed from his person permanently.

Hibari Kyouya frowns. "Heir. I am not employed."

Right. Tsuna wants to bang his head on the wall. Kyouya was very suspicious. He didn't even know why he didn't think about it. It shouldn't be normal to tell people that you're biting them to death when they're late for work.

Tsuna looks to his only hope. "Hayato!" he wails. "Nothing makes sense anymore."

Hayato flushes red but accepts the hug, petting him on the shoulder in comfort.

"To be fair," Reborn says, taking pity on him. "You are surrounded by some pretty extraordinary people."

In reference to his friends. Of course. Enma was the most normal out of all of them. But after him? There was Takeshi's baseball throws that could kill a person and Ryohei's punches that can break a stone bench in half. That's not even mentioning the Dokuro twins.

"My sense of normal is out of the window," Tsuna sighs. "Hayato, you're not working for anybody in the underground, are you?"

Hayato does not answer immediately.

Reborn and Kyouya are suspiciously quiet.

Tsuna looks at Hayato. "Are you?"

Normal is completely out of the window.

Tsuna turns to look at his table, the toaster still out from breakfast. "I hope my toaster doesn't work for the Russian Mafia."

Kyouya smiles, which brings out the goose bumps in Tsuna. "Tsunayoshi, the Russian Mafia is called the Bratva. Get your facts straight."

It was a rhetorical statement, but he was not going to be the one to educate Hibari Kyouya about rhetorical statements.

.

.

Notice that no one said that the toaster didn't work for the Russian's.