thesleepyhead wrote the headcanon (remove #) tinyurl#.#com/#hw3otqz. I'm just floating along with the FEELS.

Important: Instead of falling asleep in the time machine, TYL!Vongola swapped places with their younger counterparts and find themselves in the past, waiting.

It was stupid and dangerous. Reckless. Idiotic.

Takeshi could already hear the countless insults Hayato would hurl at him for what he was about to do. But he was being smart about it! Really, he was! Look he had a disguise and everything! Cheap hair dye, a baseball hat and some fake glasses! Plus, he was ten years older. And Takeshi wasn't going to actually stay. Take out was an option after all.

He just…

He just had to see his dad one last time.

Takeshi didn't really question why they were in the past or how. (Actually that was kinda important because Tsuna was still alive and that knocked the wind out of Takeshi like crazy. He was angry and upset that Tsuna would even do that, to even let them think that he was dead -because didn't he know how important he was to them?!- but Takeshi got it too. It was important. Tsuna was still Tsuna. Still doing the impossible.)

He was getting sidetracked.

Staring at the TakeSushi's sign, Takeshi steeled himself. He slid the door open.

"Irasshimase!" Tsuyoshi greeted.

Takeshi felt his heart ache. His dad looked so happy, unmarked by the war against Milliefiore Famiglia.

"I'll have a nigiri set," Takeshi said with as much cheer as he could muster.

"Coming right up," Tsuyoshi said.

Takeshi watched, focused on his father carefully prepared each piece of sushi. Those skillful hands, deadly and beautiful. His father was a skilled assassin, deadly and beautiful with Shigure Soen Ryu, but many people forgot that those same skills were applied to in the kitchen and Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was a master chef.

"Here you go," Tsuyoshi said, handing over the plastic bag containing the bento.

"Thanks," Takeshi said, handing over the yen.

Tsuyoshi paused. "It isn't my place to say, but are you all right?"

Takeshi froze. "Of course, I am," Takeshi said, plastering on a smile.

"That," Tsuyoshi said, pointing at Takeshi's face.

"Huh?"

A wry grin appeared on Tsuyoshi's face. "My son use to smile like that all the time," Tsuyoshi said. "Back when he was hurting. I didn't notice, makes me a poor excuse for a dad, doesn't it?"

Takeshi's eyes widened at that. He winced just a little, the half recalled memory of standing on the edge of the roof, a broken arm and Tsuna saving him. That was ten years ago for him, but it was still recent for his father.

"No," Takeshi said. "I'm sure you're a great dad," he said, barely keeping the desperation out of his voice.

Tsuyoshi looked surprised at his vehement protest, but accepted it with a nod. "Thank you. Takeshi's a good boy," he said proudly. "Now that he's made some good friends -"

'The best,' Takeshi thought. 'Tsuna is everything. Hayato, Ryohei, Kyoya, Lambo, Mukuro, Chrome, Reborn, everyone.' Despite the war with Millefiore, despite being dragged into the horror of the mafia, despite everything, even losing his father, Takeshi didn't regret anything.

" - I don't worry so much anymore," Tsuyoshi said. He clapped a hand on Takeshi's shoulder. "So if you ever need someone to talk to, you're always welcome here."

Takeshi choked back his tears. Home. God, he missed his dad so much. "Thank you," he managed to get out.

Tsuyoshi just beamed and Takeshi felt his heart lurch again.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Tsuyoshi said.

Takeshi nodded. He turned to leave, before he let anything dangerous slip. Just as he was about to exit, Takeshi turned to look back at his father one last time.

Smiling a genuine smile this time, Takeshi said softly. "Thanks."

Oyaji.

Please don't ask if I'm going to write the rest. I mean I might, but I'm not sure if my heart can take it. Haha.