DISCLAIMER: I DISCLAIM.
Warnings: I RECOMMEND YOU DON'T READ THIS.
Tsuna's troubles began with a "rare" chicken. Honest.
Well, actually, it began with its existence. After all, if it didn't exist, this chicken wouldn't be here and Tsuna would be living the great life as great as it can possibly be with Reborn on his case 24/7. Does that guy even sleep? Scratch that, it's quite obvious he sleeps. But seriously, he's just always there. It creeps out a certain freshwater fish sometimes.
Now the seafood section has met the poultry aisle.
"Reborn!" Tsuna called when he got home. How awkward he had felt that day. Reborn hadn't dropped by at school. And just like any normal middle school student, he gets the butterflies when his infant tutor doesn't whack him on the head with something sharp each day.
"Ciaossu," and the need for being smacked had been filled. What lovely samurai swords infants can get their hands on these days. Seriously, who sells potentially life-threatening items to someone who just reached the age of 1. And expensive ones at that. I can't get my hands on one and believe me, I've been trying. But let's not questions Reborn's ways in fear of mafia related deaths or even worst, getting recruited into Tsuna's family. Oh, the horrors. We'll be doing interschool role-play, sparring with some of the worst assassin squads (by worst, I mean the best), and travelling into the future and make nonsense of what little sanity we had left. Shut up, author. Yessir.
"Eh? Reborn…what's that?" Tsuna rubbed his wincing. A small white hen lay on his bed, cocking her head repetitively.
"Useless Tsuna. That's a chicken. How'd you graduate preschool?"
"What!? I know what it is! Just…what's it doing here?"
"It's a new rare breed. I had it imported from Italy to lay eggs for breakfast."
"W-What?! Seriously?"
Whack.
"I don't like repeating myself, Useless Tsuna. But, yes. It's supposed to produce some sort of special kind of egg. Now go do your homework."
Discussion over. And Tsuna no longer worried about the chicken who watched him study intently with Reborn that afternoon. That was, until the next morning.
Tsuna woke to another one of Reborn's odd antics. This morning, he found that it was not his clock ticking, but instead a timed bomb. Of course, he didn't find that out until his face got blasted.
"R-REBORN!" he wailed, sticking his burned face in the kitchen.
"Ciaossu. Breakfast?" Reborn sat next to the odd chicken from the day prior.
"Huh?" Tsuna sputtered, not used to Reborn ever asking him something normal and polite. The unhappiness from before was replaced with a spurge of sheepishness.
"S-Sure. Thanks," he grabbed a seat and watched his mom take an above-average sized egg and cracked it open.
Sunny yellow yolk poured out onto the frying pan, followed by some sticky transparent liquid that turned white at the heat. It was moved around smoothly with Nana Sawada's spatula and became professionally cooked.
Haha, just joking. Nah, the egg bore a small bullet out instead.
Isn't that funny?
No? The author is offended and will be taking his/her leave now.
But in fear of the mafia-related deaths, his/her hiatus has been cut short.
Damn.
"W-What is this?" Nana Sawada cried out girlishly. Hm, what indeed. She pushed it around with a spatula curiously; this act was extremely useful in identifying the obviously obvious bullet.
Reborn then offered her an excuse to leave because he felt motherly Nana Sawada should not be present while he loads aforementioned bullet and shot it at her son. Why, you might ask. Why would she mind her son being shot at? Well, that's an excellent question; excellent because the answer is not clear at first sight.
You see, when a man and a woman love each other very much, a philanthropist-stork brings them a cute little child because the two are heterosexual. The man (we'll call him Iemitsu) and the woman (we'll call her Nana) proceed to love the child (we'll call him Tsunayoshi) unconditionally because they accept strange children that appear randomly. You might think it was just Tsunayoshi; it's only happened once after all so it's hardly enough to make a claim about all babies. No, it's true in all cases. References Used: Reborn, Lambo, I-Pin, Fuu—
What? You've heard this story before? Alright, but I promise my retelling is a lot more interesting.
Fine, be that way; we'll skip the story.
THE END.
Oh, you meant just the heterosexuals and charitable stork story? You still want to hear about the chicken and the bullet? It's hardly as interesting as the other one, but fine.
Reborn shot the guy. See how interesting that was.
Well, Tsuna was, of course, not surprised. Reborn shot him a lot. It was normal. He does something stupid (i.e. try to eat breakfast) and he gets shot at. Plain and simple.
But this bullet was not like any other bullet Tsuna experienced. And Tsuna had experienced many bullets and lived to tell the stories. He was hit with this bullet, that bullet that time, the bullet over there once (just about any bullet besides the normal ones that would kill you properly). But, somehow, this time was exceptional.
And, no, it did not kill him properly.
Anyway, where were we? Ah, right. Tsuna's troubles all because of a chicken. Well, basically, Reborn picked up the bullet between his fingers.
"Leon," Reborn called in that squeaky timbre of his, "Gun, please." And like that, the little chameleon melted itself down and reshaped itself into a fashionable green pistol.
Tsuna, being Tsuna, did not run away as soon as Reborn said, "Gun, please." Probably because if he did attempt escape, he'd just end up tripping on something, causing a chain reaction that would result in the pistol shooting him anyway. First, he'll clumsily fall face down on the hardwood floor. Second, Reborn will shoot him for doing something stupid (in this case, that's tripping on flat ground). It's good that Tsuna avoided that fate. Instead, he just stood there and got shot at.
One would imagine he was thinking something along the lines of, "Damn, not this again."
No, actually, Tsuna, being Tsuna, wasn't thinking anything. Wow, what an amazing turn of events. One wonders how many times in the still young Mafioso-to-be's life that his head is empty. We'll get our trained monkeys to work on this perplexing life problem.
Tsuna collapsed none too gently after being hit in the forehead (always his forehead). Reborn hopped on over. Placing Leon back on the brim of his fedora, he jumped from the kitchen counter to the table and then to the floor.
"Tsuna, wake up," Reborn prodded his disciple's side. Here is where science comes to work: Everyone expects people to wake up right away after having the trigger pulled on them. But that's a common misconception: most people die.
The more you know…
But Tsuna was not like most people for many reasons.
He kicked Tsuna's ribs, probably breaking one. He jumped over his student's body and kicked the other side, breaking probably another rib. Reborn liked things neat and even.
Suddenly, Tsuna shot up. A red-orange flame on his forehead sprung to life, yet left no burns. Tsuna did not appear to notice.
"Tsuna."
"Reborn…" Tsuna said slowly, inattentively. He seemed far more concerned with something else going on in his head.
That was when Tsuna's problems began.
However, to understand them, we'll have to go back—back to where the problems originated: the chicken.
The one-of-a-kind chicken was imported from Italy. It was famed for laying very unique eggs—eggs with bullets. These bullets directly affected victims' minds. They changed them.
They triggered something deep.
Reborn, being a friend of the chicken's caretaker's country's president's dog's babysitter's local deli's pet fish (a very powerful connection), managed to get the chicken over to Japan. He assumed that this will spark something in Tsuna that will make him a wiser, smarter, handsomer (haha?), stronger mafia boss candidate.
And Tsuna did become some of those things. He began tackling all the world's problems.
"Which came first: the chicken or the egg?"
"Why did the chicken cross the road?"
These were the questions Tsuna intended to solve. They were the mysteries troubling Tsuna—deep, dark mysteries.
It was wonderful. Reborn was so proud.
And so, that's the story of Tsuna's troubles that began with a "rare" chicken.
Now, about that stork, Iemitsu, Nana, Tsuna thing…
Author's Note:
It makes even less sense when you think about it.
Old story I found and finished today. I have 5 minutes to get this in so that it's published on the same day as my other story. WILL I MAKE IT?