Anyone who follows my Tumblr will no doubt be dancing for joy...

This idea WILL NOT LEAVE MY HEAD! Too many people getting into BNHA and dragging me along for the ride! I watched the first season when it first came out and then keep diving into fic's so naturally, I decide to tell this fic with the BNHA characters in focus rather than the KHR ones! (brain starts imploding on the lack of logic).

Please don't expect regular updates. It's been getting the odd update via Tumblr while I pick at it, but don't intend on turning it into a proper multi-fic.

Present Mic first spots the restaurant when it's his turn to patrol the local neighbourhood around UA. With so many heroes on staff and the constant threat of attacks, it's safer to have everyone on a random schedule to deter any would-be villains from causing trouble, or allowing anyone to learn the rota. It's a security measure that results in the surrounding area having some of the lowest crime statistics in Musutafu, but also means real estate is at a premium. Businesses will fight to the metaphysical death to get their store in these streets.

So while it's not unusual to see a new store open, the lack of familiarity with the name does draw the hero's attention. Self-owned businesses are rare – the sheer amount of capital deters most of them from starting here, choosing lesser known neighbourhoods to build up a client base before making the leap. Since he's never heard the name 'Takesushi,' or even heard down the grapevine of the venture, it must be completely new.

That's enough to pique his interest, and when the school day is over, he decides sushi would be a good dinner option.

It's clearly only been open a few days judging from the number of people carrying grand opening vouchers. Eventually, once the novelty dies down the restaurant will be judged for it's food, but Hizashi highly doubts the owner would dare risk opening here if he didn't think he could compete. At the door he's greeted by a pretty girl with honey-blonde hair, who asks if he's looking for a table or take-out. She doesn't bat an eye at his appearance, and happily directs him over to the take-out. Line to the side.

Thankfully, the queue isn't as long as it could be – it might not be all that 'heroic' of him, but people do have a tendency to let heroes cut in line, and Present Mic is more than popular enough to find himself at the front of the line in a matter of minutes.

There's a young teenage girl minding the till, a frail looking thing, with dark purple hair and an eyepatch decorated with a skull motif. Her mouth drops just a tad as her eye glances up, taking in Mic's leather and hair, and he waits for the inevitable spluttering that comes from coming face to face with a hero.

However-

"Um, good evening" She offers, face smoothing into a smile. "Welcome to Takesushi, may I take your order?"

He almost double takes, but grins in delight. For such a young girl, she's quite the professional.

Unsure of what would be best, he orders one of the specials advertised, and steps to the side after paying. The order heads to the back, where he can only see one man working with a knife, although there's a pair of teens – a brunet and a black haired boy who's clearly related to the chef - working on packing up boxes or putting together platters. Anything not immediately heading out to the bar is being carried out by a rather punked out silver haired teen and an older boy with white hair.

It's a lot of teenagers – the chef is the only member of staff clearly over 18, but they work together seamlessly.

"That was very impressive of you" he hears, and his attention is drawn back to the girl at the desk, now greeting the next customer in line. "My daughter works at a 7/11, and every time a hero walks in she turns into an excited mess. She'd never have gotten two words out in front of Present Mic."

Some of the others in the line chuckle, and Hizashi's lip twitches into a grin, trying to pretend he can't hear the conversation.

However, instead of insisting she was just doing her job – or even admitting that she's not a Present Mic fan, the girl just blinks and says.

"Who's Present Mic?"

There's a hideous screech that lasts all of two seconds before Present Mic realises it's coming from him and shuts up, while the entire line goes silent. Even the busser's pause, and the chef looks up from the fish.

The woman looks embarrassed, and the girl is starting to shrink into herself, so clearly it's up to Mic to defuse the situation. As iconic as he is, Present Mic's dropped in the rankings since taking on the role at UA, and he's hardly as prevalent as the big hitters, so this is hardly the first time he's gone unrecognised. Admittedly it doesn't normally happen this close to UA, where he's seen on a near daily basis, but it does happen.

"Hah hah, that would be me young lady" he says, walking back up to the counter. "Guess I need to be doing more rounds, not often I meet someone who doesn't know me."

He snaps a pair of finger guns in her direction and grins.

"Present Mic, the Voice Hero and star of 'Put Your Hands Up' on Hero FM" he announces.

The girl hunches down, face starting to redden.

"I don't listen to radio."

Mic laughs. "Don't worry about it. I'm a bit much for some people, nothing wrong that. Which heroes do you like?"

It's an easy enough question, and one that even the most embarrassed person can usually answer after a hero faux paus. If all else fails you can just blurt out 'All Might' and move on.

Yet, what should have been an easy out for the girl seems to cause more problems. Her face pales and her eye flickers to the side. She looks like the kids in Mic's class when he springs a test on them without warning.

"I...um, Mukuro isn't... Bossu...?"

He's guessing those are supposed to be names, but they mean nothing to Mic, and he's starting to feel as awkward as the girl does.

"Chrome, are you okay?"

They both look up to see the chef heading towards them, eyes narrowed. Behind him, both teens are watching, the brunet looking as nervous as the girl.

Mic holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" he says, and genuinely means it. "I'm just surprised there's anyone in Musutafu that hasn't at least heard of me."

"We're new around here" Tsuyoshi offers, and all but thrusts a bag into Present Mic's hands. "Enjoy your meal."

It's a strange feeling, for a hero to feel so unwanted, but not a single one of the teens looks friendly – the silver haired one is outwardly glowering – so Present Mic grabs the bag, waves to the line, and heads out the door.

As if she hadn't spotted the last five minutes of awkwardness with her co-workers, the girl at the front door bows and says with an impressive amount of cheer -

"Please come again!"

Yeah...Mic doesn't think so.

Normally, Mic would let it go. Maybe the girl genuinely didn't like heroes, or had a bad experience – it happens. Maybe she had a quirk that had resulted in bullying and chosen to reject anything about heroes to protect herself. It didn't really matter - if a civilian has issues with heroes, so long as they're not breaking the law, they have a right to be left alone. Normally, he'd just take note of Takesushi's apparent ignorance and dislike and make a point not to eat there again.

However...the sushi was really good. As in, melts-on-the-tip-of-your-tongue good. So good he was having cravings less than 3 days later. The chef was either exceptionally trained, or someone on his staff at a flavour enhancing quirk that they were using illegally. Either way, he wasn't quite ready to give it up.

Thankfully, the nature of heroes meant he didn't have to, and the next time he enters, it's as the casually dressed English teacher, Yamada Hizashi. It's early in the afternoon, but there's still a handful of customers despite the early hour – every time he passes in the evening the place is booming, the food good enough to maintain the customers even after the newness wears off.

There's no young greeter this time, just the chef, who nods and greets him as Hizashi sits at the bar.

"Welcome to Takesushi" the chef greets. "I'm Yamamoto Tsuyoshi. What can I interest you with first?"

Hizashi grins, tapping at a menu at some of the morsels he's been pining for all week.

"Let's start with eel and tuna, then...ah, surprise me. What do you recommend?"

Yamamoto grins back, and starts preparing the order. His hands move with impressive grace, and Hizashi, always an admirer of professionals at work, can't help but be drawn in – and eagerly grabs chopsticks once his order starts arriving.

"So what brings you to Musutafu?" he asks between plates – and oh, the sushi's just as good in the restaurant. "Moving out of the big city? Moving closer to the big city?"

The man smiles back. "I guess it was...intuition? We needed a fresh start, and something about this town drew us in. When this building became available, everything seemed like a perfect fit, and here we are."

He breaks off for a moment, taking the plates he'd just finished preparing to a handful of other customers at a nearby table, and Hizashi focuses on his meal.

"That is not physically possible!"

The sushi drops from his chopsticks as Hizashi snaps his head back at the outraged tone.

Turns out the teenagers aren't as absent as he thought – they're all crammed into a booth in the corner, along with a much younger boy with sandy blond hair. They're all staring at a tablet on the table, and the silver haired punk boy is half standing, looking frustrated at what he sees. Most of the table seems amused by his outburst, but the girl Mic had unwittingly embarrassed is frowning at him.

"...Um, are any of us physically possible?"

The boy waves frantically at the screen. "He has wings! An additional set of limbs! Growing from his shoulders! That detach and reattach feather by feather! Do you understand the anatomical impossibility of that!"

"So did Byakuran," says the black haired boy, and the punk's throws his hands into the air.

"Byakuran's were a manifestation of metaphysical energy! They weren't real, physical limbs!"

The fluffy brunet ducks his head down.

"They felt real..."

This immediately results in the silver haired boy dropping to his seat and trying to desperately console the boy next to him, only to start ranting again at the next clip – yelling about the heat limitations of the human body before spontaneous combustion becomes a possibility. Hizashi can't help the chuckle before he turns back to his meal, only to see Yamamoto watching him indulgently.

"Sometimes I think I should sell tickets" he says. "They're incapable of not attracting attention."

"Are they watching hero clips?" he asks, because that seems a large change up from the last time he walked in here.

Yamamoto shrugs. "They got a little blind-sided last week, heroes aren't that prevalent where we're from, so they're trying to catch up on the local talent.

"Hiee!"

"Oh come on! How did he not break every bone in his arm!"

"That's so extreme!"

"Wow, he was like a grown up Sasagawa."

"Turf top uses...you know! This guy doesn't. It doesn't make any sense!"

The man's lip quirks. "With varying degrees of success. Flashy...quirks aren't something they're used to seeing in broad daylight."

Hizashi however, frowns before glancing back at the table, and then back at Yamamoto. His eyes search behind the man, and starts looking at the photos on the shelf. Yamamoto and his son feature prominently, but he's starting to realise all the kids are featuring quite consistently. A tad too much to just be friends or employees considering how new the restaurant is.

"Wait...are they all yours?" he asks, because there's no resemblance whatsoever – the youngest doesn't even look Asian. Sure, with quirks that's not as odd as it used to be, but the ages-

Yamamoto follows his eyes to the photo's and huffs.

"Foster kids" he admits. "Takeshi's mine, but the rest...more or less adopted us."

He picks up one closer to the side, clearly the newest of the lot as the restaurant is in the back. It's Yamamoto with all off the teens grinning as the youngest boy holds up a hand written sign saying 'Now Open.'

The man shakes his head.

"Tsuna was in a bad place" he says, finger tapping at the small, brown haired teen in the centre. "Not through any fault of his own but...he couldn't stay there, not without destroying who he was. So when a friend of his found a way to save him, free from everything that was slowly killing him, he took it. But most of his friends weren't much better off. When they realised, they refused to let him go alone. They'd been through too much to let him leave them behind."

Tsuyoshi's smile dims, eyes glancing away. "It was tearing Takeshi apart. As far as he was concerned, Tsuna and the others were family, but so was I. There was no choice he could make that wasn't going to make him miserable. So I made sure he didn't have to."

The photo gets put back, and he hands over another plate.

"I packed up my shop, filled in a thousand ridiculous custody forms and here we are. New life, new world, new beginning. For all of us."

"You seriously took in what, six kids just to keep your kid happy?" Hizashi squawks, jaw hanging a tad lower than he would like to admit.

"Well, they needed some kind of adult figure in their lives" Tsuyoshi chuckled. "And Takeshi needed them. You don't know what he was like before Tsuna – I wasn't letting him go back to that, and I wasn't going to let him run away from me. Besides, in a town like this, they're practically angels, haven't had a single problem with them."

He pauses, and then huffs quietly to himself.

"Well, no problem that could conclusively be linked to them anyway."

Hizashi just shakes his head in wonder. "You're quite the hero" he offers, though he's a little surprised Yamamoto dumped all of this one him – perhaps with so many teens running around, the man hasn't had much adult company. He's probably been desperate to talk, and Hizashi's interested enough to let him continue. There's more to the story – exactly when and how his son became involved with what appears to be half an orphanage, or some kind of multiple abuse case is probably just as gripping, but Yamamoto seems to bring himself back to reality, shaking his head and offering up a final plate.

"Sorry, don't often get to talk these days. What about you? You work in the area?"

Hizashi smiles.

"I'm...an English teacher at one of the local high schools" he offers. "Long hours but I enjoy it."

"Wouldn't be Seirin would it?" Yamamoto asks, mentioning one of the nearer non-hero schools in the area, known more for their sports programs than it's academic prowess.

"Afraid not" Hizashi offers. "Is that where they're enrolled?"

He partially gestures with his chopsticks to the group in the corner, and Yamamoto nods.

"Takeshi really wants to play baseball professionally, so he looked for somewhere with a good team, and the enrolment was within everyone's ability so they stuck together, even if it's not the greatest fit for some of them. Keep getting calls asking why on earth I haven't encouraged Hayato to go to a better school, or even just test out for university – god knows the brat could get in without trying if he wanted. But you'll only pry him from Tsuna's side when he's dead."

Behind his glasses, Hizashi raises his eyebrows. "That sounds a little..."

"Hyper dependent?" Yamamoto offers. "Probably. But he's much better than he used to be, and that's saying something. To be honest, they're all a little like that. Tsuna draws people in, even when he doesn't mean to. You'd think so many personalities would rip a group like that apart but, Tsuna's particularly...gifted, at keeping harmony."

Hizashi chances another look at the group – and now that it's been brought up, he can see the connections. The silver haired boy and Yamamoto's son are flanking the brunet, both leaning into the boy slightly more than most Japanese would consider appropriate, and while the group is mostly watching the screen, whenever someone speaks up, they look at Tsuna first, as if waiting for approval to continue. The fluffy teen is controlling the entire conversation, although from the way the teen is acting, he's either very aware of this, or completely oblivious.

"He's oblivious" Yamamoto replies, and Hizashi chokes when he realises he said the last part out loud. "Tsuna spent most of his life being told he was no good at anything. It's a difficult mind set to get out of, once you start believing it."

Hizashi nods in understanding. He's heard Aizawa rant enough times about the Entrance Exam to know the world isn't kind to those that don't fit into a certain category.

"So many students come through our doors with problems that go unnoticed until high school" Hizashi replies. "Sometimes I wonder if we'll get through to them before they graduate."

Quirks, financial status, intelligence, ethnicity. Society breeds a need to excel, and unfortunately, that means someone needs to fail along the lines. At least this 'Tsuna' is finally getting the help he needs, between Yamamoto's new custody and his hoard of very close friends, Hizashi is sure the teen can learn to excel, rather than becoming a victim, or worse, a villain.

Part of him is itching to pry more, but even Yamamoto is starting to realise how much he's dumped on a complete stranger, because he's shaking his head and stepping back, choosing to clear up some of his bench.

"Clearly I'm spending too much time around teenagers" the chef jokes. "I've taking up gossiping."

Hizashi laughs softly. "I promise, I'm not complaining. Not the first time I've been used as a sounding board, and won't be the last. Your story is safe with me."

Yamamoto's lips twitch.

"It's not exactly something secret, it's not all that impressive when you strip it down" he says, brushing it off. "But thanks for listening anyway."

"For sushi like this" Hizashi says, gesturing at his plate. "I'll happily take some conversation with the deal."

Yamamoto grins, and hands him the bill.

"Then I look forward to seeing you again."