Life Imitates

Unsurprisingly, it was Sai who discovered Iruka's hidden hobby.

"Will you allow me to to see?" Sai asked him very politely when Iruka was finalizing the shift-reports in the Mission Room, ready to take over for the evening round. He looked up at Sai's pale face, blinking in confusion. Sai just stared back at him steadily. The rest of desk-nin exited, calling their tired farewells as they went to take their rest.

"Excuse me?" Iruka finally croaked.

Sai smiled. He reached out, hands hesitating over Iruka's clenched fingers. "May I?"

Confused yet curious, Iruka nodded and watched Sai take one of his hands and inspect it. Sai nodded.

"Ink, under your fingernails," he noted softly and tilted his head. "And I can see how you hold your brushes." He placed Iruka's hand back on the surface of the table and gave it a friendly pat, before smiling again. "Will you allow me to see?"

"My drawings, you mean?" Iruka asked in a low voice. Sai nodded, and the peaceful expression on his face rippled into something more enthusiastic.

Iruka was about to shake his head; his 'art' was nowhere near what Sai could do, but then he paused. "Okay," he agreed. "But not here."

Sai's smile was brilliant. "Thank you, Iruka-sensei."

***

Iruka arrived at the school library about two hours before it closed, smiling at the industrius students who were doing their homework. Quite a few of them waved at him, and some made excited motions for him to come over, but he shook his head firmly, pressed a finger to his lips and continued onto the Teachers' Area, a refuge where no student was allowed.

Sai was waiting for him at one of the small tables, the yellow pass that Iruka had arranged for him lying beside his elbow. He got to his feet respectfully as Iruka drew close, sitting only after Iruka sat, and looking very expectant.

"I'm not very good," Iruka warned as he withdrew a large, leather-bound sketchbook from his satchel. Sai held out a hand without a word, waiting patiently even as Iruka hesitated once more. The drawings near the back, the more recent ones... he should be embarrased over those, but... it didn't matter. Sai probably wouldn't pick up anything, anyway.

He deposited the sketchbook in Sai's hand and then reached back into his satchel, taking out a few papers he needed to grade. No use staring nervously at the more experienced artist as he went through Iruka's work.

Sai spent an inordinately long time looking at the cover of the book, before he actually opened it and read the inscription on the first page: For Iruka, a strong hand had written there. So that you may remember the beauty of the world. From The Professor.

"How long have you had this?" Sai touched the Sandaime's handwriting, as if he could read the kind and strong personality through the confident strokes.

"Since I was twelve," Iruka muttered, marking a red line through an entire paragraph before him. "I'll need to remove some pages soon to make room for blank ones."

"I see."

Iruka tried not to look up as Sai went the pages slowly, going through his first drawings which were jagged swirls of orange and black. These sequenced into calmer but clumsy attempts of landscapes, then buildings. Iruka liked buildings, because they stayed still and remained mostly unchanged from day to day.

Sandaime was the first portrait he had tried, and he cringed internally as Sai pondered over his lack of foreshortening and how far apart the Sandaime's eyes were in that attempt. A few other people were next, like Ayame, and some of the students from his first classes, then a long series of mundane still-life: a stack of books, some flowers, the sketchbook itself.

Then, the people returned. Sandaime again, but this one was more surreal; it showed the Sandaime's likeness on the Hokage Monument, but large hands reached out of the rocky surface, stretching out over the village in a gesture of protection and hope. Naruto, his grin a massive caricature and Sai actually smiled widely at this. Sakura, sitting on a bench with a hand cupped pensively against her cheek.

"Do you draw them when they are in front of you?" Sai asked, peering at a page where a boy was apparently begging an older sibling for a bit of their dango, which was held out of their reach.

"No, I just... watch them, until I get it all in my head. When I get the chance, I put it on paper."

"You are very good with details, Iruka-sensei," Sai complimented and Iruka nodded, trying not to feel too proud.

Anko, with all her teeth playfully bared, eyes squinted shut. Gai, leaning against a tree in a rare moment of stillness. Kakashi, his face fully obscured by his book.

Genma, without his senbon, lips curved up in an appealing smile.

A gloved hand holding a kunai.

Ino, hands held up as a rain of petals swirled around her.

A lean male body, curled up in bed, scars slicing across the pale back as the sheets slipped down almost to his hips. Sai raised his eyebrows at this one.

"Do you see Kakashi-sempai in bed?" Sai asked curiously and Iruka shook his head with a smile, even though his heart was in his throat.

"No, of course not. Straight of my head."

Sai looked up at him, his dark gaze very direct. "Kakashi-sempai is... good for artists," he finally murmured. "I've drawn him myself. He has clean lines."

"Yes, he does," Iruka agreed, and watched helplessly as Kakashi appeared again and again, the view of his back, his hair, the tantalizing line of his jaw; seeing it the way Sai might, he suddenly realized that his feelings were laid more bare than Iruka had hoped.

He braced himself for a comment about this from Sai, but the young man closed the sketchbook and pushed it towards him, simply saying, "Thank you for allowing me to see your work, Iruka-sensei."

"What do you think?" Iruka asked, half-jokingly, half-relieved.

"I think that good art becomes even better when shared," Sai said very seriously, and then a bright smile flitted across his lips again. "Don't you think so?"

Iruka held his breath a little... then nodded.

* * *

Kakashi walked around the auditorium slowly, gazing at each of the drawings that had been placed on the walls and on the narrow, free-standing displays that Tenzou had obligingly fashioned, using the wood of the floor itself by pulling them up into rectangular surfaces. He recognized Sai's work, his thick lines and dream-like landscapes, but who was the other artist? He didn't know the style at all. He liked the frank realism that dominated the majority of the works, though.

He had been surprised and more than a little intrigued when this exhibition had been advertised on flyers in the Missions Room and in the market, but he had expected that it would be sparsely attended. Yet, on this third day, there were many people milling about, and he was impressed to note that some of the drawings had a tiny red dot stuck on the wall beside them, indicating that the piece was sold.

Ino came up to him with an officious air, a notebook in one hand and some strips of the coloured paper in the other. "Kakashi-sensei, welcome! Do you see anything you like?"

Kakashi shook his head and shrugged. "You've done a good job at organizing all this," he told her. "Everything looks good."

Ino flapped a hand with the paper-strips at him, but she still looked pleased. "Well, if you do see anything, just tell me." She marched off purposefully, and Kakashi moved on. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Iruka-sensei in a corner, surrounded by the inevitable horde of children. The students were talking in excited whispers, and Iruka was listening and nodding from time to time. A field-trip to the exhibition; Kakashi approved.

Kakashi nearly stumbled when he spotted one of himself, utterly shocked to find his likeness on the wall; no... from this point and continuing for about fifteen more drawings, it was all him, ranging from dynamic images of battle, to one where he was dressed in a severely formal manner, the mask on his face finely decorated to match the distinguished clothing.

"Those aren't for sale," a soft voice said behind him. "Unless you agree that they can be. You'll get some of the proceeds, of course, and the rest will go to the Academy."

Kakashi turned to look at Iruka's worried expression. "You did these?"

Iruka nodded, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind one ear. "Yes. I'm sorry I didn't ask to display them before, but I didn't get to talk to you before Ino went ahead and put them up. But like I said, they're only sold if the subject agrees and--"

"Sell them," Kakashi cut shortly through the sensei's rambling, still trying to deal with his astonishment. "It doesn't matter to me. Give everything to the Academy."

"Oh... alright." They both stood in silence for a long, tense moment, staring at one piece that had Kakashi standing in the middle of a wind-swept field, as solitary as a scarecrow, before Iruka blurted out, "Look, are you offended? Because if you are, I'm very sorry, it's just that you... well, you're good for artists, you're nice to draw and--"

"I'm not offended," Kakashi cut in again, turning to face him fully with a smile intended to disarm and soothe. "Relax, sensei. I was just surprised. It's been a long time that someone has done that."

Iruka bit his lip, then smiled in return. "Pleasantly surprised?"

"Very much so." He inclined his head, making a move to leave and Iruka stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Wait. Will you... pose for me, one day? When you have free time, that is." A slight flush touched Iruka's cheeks; he looked down, belatedly realizing that he was touching Kakashi and began to pull his hand away. Without thinking, Kakashi grabbed Iruka's fingers with his free hand, and they both blinked at each other in surprise.

"Yes," Kakashi answered simply, squeezed his fingers gently and let go. Iruka's smile was dazzling.

"Thank you," he said, ducking his head in a quick bow and darting away before Kakashi's hand got any more ideas. Kakashi took the opportunity to take one final look at the series Iruka did of him, wondering if that was how the rest of Konoha saw him: exotic, brave, dangerous... alone.

"No, Iruka-sensei," he whispered to himself, "thank you."

fin