Chapter Text
It was a deceptively peaceful day at Konohagakure University. The birds were singing in the early summer breeze, and the wind was just strong enough to cool the muggy summer air. One professor didn’t feel extremely peaceful as he made his way into the building housing the Dean’s office. Izuna Uchiha was rarely called in by his brother for meetings, but when he was, it was usually for a favor. Madara rarely asked for anything, but Izuna knew he was most likely going to be busy this summer.
Izuna stepped into the air-conditioned building, sighing in relief as he went through the maze of hallways back to the office he was looking for. He stopped in his tracks when another office was open. Mito Uzumaki-Senju was busy at work in her own office. Being head of student relations was a job that was never over, considering summer classes. Hakura, her son, was coloring in a coloring book on the floor. He was surprisingly good at staying in the lines for a three-year-old. Mito looked up when she heard his footsteps. “Hey Izuna, it's not like you to be here early.”
Izuna resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she wasn’t being facetious. Mito was a lot of things, but rude was not one of them.
“Well, Madara told me to be here at 9 or ‘face the consequences’.” He held up air quotes around the last phrase.
Mito rolled her eyes. “Typical.”
He glanced down at the young toddler drawing again, realizing that the light coming in from the nearby window would make this a perfect shot. He gestured to his camera hanging from his neck, giving Mito a questioning look. He never went anywhere without it for this reason.
She smiled and nodded.
Izuna silently crouched down, making sure Hakura wasn’t disturbed, getting an angle he liked before taking a few pictures. Getting the everyday, seemingly mundane topics and making them beautiful was his passion. To show how life could be beautiful without embellishment was always his goal. The sunlight did all of the work for him as he glanced at the pictures on his camera screen. Hakura’s light brown hair was illuminated by the morning sun, making it blaze like fire. The light framed his little body perfectly where he was lying on the floor, putting the focus on the coloring book picture he was working so hard on.
Mito waved him over and Izuna gladly let her look. He wasn’t going to make a heavily pregnant woman stand after all. Mito looked at the picture and her eyes welled up with tears. “Izu, that’s beautiful,” she said, frowning when she realized she was crying. Izuna held the kleenex box from the corner of her desk closer to her so she could dab her eyes.
She huffed after her tears were cleared away. “Pregnancy hormones.”
Izuna shrugged. “Do you want a copy after I touch it up?”
“Yes, please. I would love that.”
Izuna nodded, waving goodbye to both Mito and Hakura when the three-year-old finally looked up at him. He had Hashirama’s warm, olive-toned skin and face, but his eyes could have been identical to Mito’s, dark hazel and warm. “Bye-bye Zuna!” he called after him, and Izuna smiled back.
While he didn’t want any, kids were cute. Besides, he had his nephew and all of his friends’ children to fill that void in his life.
He finally made his way down the hall, hoping Mito knew he was planning to use her as a scapegoat if his brother was in a foul mood about punctuality.
Madara’s office was open when he stepped in and Izuna was happy to realize he was five minutes early. His brother sat at his desk, typing furiously at his desktop. Izuna strolled further in, looking at some of the pictures and paintings his brother kept on his walls and shelves as he waited for him to finish what he was doing.
“Izuna, thank you for being on time,” Madara finally said. Izuna could hear the old office chair he refused to replace creak as he leaned back.
Izuna turned away from one of his own photographs on the shelf. It was of their parents’ koi pond. A young Kagami was feeding the koi from a chubby hand with a big smile on his face. “You know I try my hardest. I even had time to take a picture and be on time. You should be proud of me.”
Madara glanced at the camera hanging around his neck, the question he wanted to ask hanging in the air. Izuna smugly pulled up the pictures of Hakura. His brother loved the arts, and he was always supportive of Izuna in the past and now. Izuna was proud of what his brother had done for the university regarding putting a balanced focus on all the departments. Sure, the university was known for its breakthroughs in research, and Izuna couldn’t deny that. But now, it was a hub of growth and education for anyone.
A soft smile grew on Madara’s face as he looked at the picture. “Hashirama is going to cry when he sees this.”
“Mito already did, but she blamed pregnancy hormones,” Izuna joked. Mito loved her family just as deeply and fiercely as Hashirama did. That’s why they were disgustingly perfect for each other.
Madara rolled his eyes and handed Izuna’s camera back. “Speaking of pictures, you probably guessed why I called you in here.”
Izuna flopped down into one of the armchairs in front of Madara’s desk. “I figured it would be to take pictures of something for something, but couldn’t guess what.”
Madara clicked on his desktop for a moment before turning the monitor around so Izuna could look at the announcement he was approving for the school. He forgot his brother had one of those cool monitors that could turn 360.
“We’re hosting the biannual research conference for our division this year. I wanted you and a couple of students who you think can handle the task to take photos for our university. And The Konoha Times requested you specifically. I guess their usual photographer is unavailable.”
Izuna glanced at the announcement, almost scowling when he saw one specific name pop up on the list of experts presenting.
Dr. Tobirama Senju.
Hashirama’s younger, emotionally stunted brother.
The thorn in Izuna’s side ever since undergrad.
Izuna couldn’t remember a time when the younger Senju wasn’t annoying or belittling him.
It all began on one seemingly normal day in freshman year…
Fall was always Izuna’s favorite time of year. The way the leaves turned and the weather chilled gave him more inspiration than any other time. This Fall was special, too. Because this year, he was finally starting to show his work in a major gallery, even if it was at the University he was studying at. It wasn’t just some small local one or on the wall of a high school.
Konohagakure University’s gallery was a real one, and his work was being shown in it.
He had made his lip bleed twice from biting into it so much as he walked around to study his classmates’ work. He was worried about how his submission was being perceived by his peers. Sure, he got positive comments while they were all working on their pieces, but seeing it hanging under a proper light and with everyone’s work was different.
After he and his classmates did their mandatory viewing, the gallery was opened to the public.
Madara and his friend, Hashirama Senju, had already stopped by and complimented his work, but Izuna wanted to hear what others thought. He didn’t quite trust his brother’s compliments anymore. He always just said, ‘yours is the best’ as if there was no question or critique to be had. Izuna wasn’t scared to tell Madara how annoying that was either but Madara always just shrugged.
Izuna meandered around the gallery for the best part of an hour, lingering just close enough so he could hear the conversations or comments people made about his piece.
It was his first time daring to show one of his paintings. In the past, he never wanted to show them because they weren’t perfect enough or lacking in some way to him. Dr. Kagome Sarutobi gave him the courage to finally show his work. She was the one who gave him tips on realism and he finally felt like he was understanding how to capture what he wanted.
Most of the comments he heard filled him with shock or pride.
“That’s paint?”
“There’s no way.”
“Wow, you can see what she’s reading almost.”
“Aww, she has a beautiful smile.”
Izuna grinned when he heard that latest comment, pretending to closely study a ceramic piece nearby. The woman he had taken pictures of sat at the same bench on campus almost every day. He saw her every time he walked by for his 9 AM class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Sure, it wasn’t the best time for the lighting and everything else to be perfect for a photo, but that wasn’t his goal. She always seemed genuinely at peace and happy every time he saw her.
One day, he finally mustered up the courage to take the photos and show her. His favorite was when she looked up and caught him, smiling widely. She had gushed over the pictures for a solid 15 minutes before he finally went on his way that day. She even was one of the first ones to come to the gallery to see the finished set. Gramma Akane—she refused to be called anything else—almost cried when she saw the paintings of her and that made everything worth it.
Izuna felt like he was floating on air, happy about all of the positive feedback his showcase has received so far. That changed when two familiar people stopped in front of his work. He knew Mito Uzumaki because she was dating his brother’s best friend and they were in the same Foundations class all freshmen were required to take. It was the usual, ‘here’s how you be adults and proper students’ type of course that various professors taught.
Mito was witty and kind, and he found she was easy to get along with. When she talked to him, he felt like she was actually listening. He was happy to call her a friend already. The guy with her was one he only saw pictures of.
Tobirama Senju was someone he had heard about so much he felt like he practically knew the guy already. Hashirama gushed about all of his younger brothers constantly, and he was very excited about his brother finally getting to join him at the University. Tobirama’s pale hair and birthmarks stood out to Izuna, making him inch closer as he and Mito talked. He definitely was more serious than Hashirama, he could tell just looking at him. The thoughtful expression on his face made Izuna curious.
“I just had a crazy thought,” Mito said, hushed and conspiring.
“And what’s that?” Tobirama’s voice had a low, rippling, gravelly quality to it.
“If I signed up for an art class next semester for my humanities portion would you join me?” Mito’s profile showed a wide, teasing grin as she looked up at Senju. “Or would that be a big waste of your precious math time?”
“Yes.”
The answer was so quick and immediate that Izuna huffed out a snort and turned away, making his way back toward where the other art students were hanging out.
So what if someone didn’t think art was worth his time?
With how Hashirama talked about him, Izuna expected someone who had an open mind and was curious.
Well, he knew he wouldn’t be friends with everyone, and that was fine by him.
Madara’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Before you get pissy, I need you to do the physics part of the convention. It will look good for the school and get us more grants for both the science and art departments if you do. I’m trying to spin this in a way to get attention on the school as a whole, and I need your help,” Madara explained, holding back a sigh.
Izuna suddenly realized how tired his brother looked. The bags under his eyes were heavier and when Izuna glanced around, he saw evidence of an all-nighter. The traveling blanket and pillow usually reserved for long flights was tossed in the corner. A protein bar wrapper was in the trash. Four half-empty water bottles were strewn in various spots, normally where he knew his brother paced when he was thinking. More filled the little blue recycling bin in the corner. Shit, how long has Madara been camped here overseeing details for this convention? He knew his brother wouldn’t have a big part in the convention itself, but getting the word out and getting donations and grants took a lot of work. Work that would involve the Dean’s word or stamp of approval.
All irritation about Tobirama Senju fizzled out of him when he saw this and he sighed. Izuna could deal with the prick for a few hours. It wouldn’t kill him. Besides, the other departments were also presenting, not just the physics team. Hashirama was actually fun to listen to when biology was the subject. And Izuna’s nephew, Kagami, was going to be presenting with Senju about the theory they were developing. Izuna was going to support him no matter what. Touka, a Senju he didn’t mind, was presenting on the importance of mental and physical health for athletes on another day. Experts from other universities were coming to present on everything else one could think of. A lot of the subjects seemed interesting too. Besides that ONE day, it looked like it would be a good challenge for his photography students who wanted to be journalists and it would look good on their resumes.
He pulled out his phone and set up an email to the four senior students he was thinking of. He looked at the dates of the conference and plugged it into the draft, and thought of a way he could make this worthwhile. “Am I allowed to offer them money or extra credit?” he asked, glancing up at Madara.
“We’ll pay you all,” he said, pushing a document toward him. “This is technically not for your department, but we want to give students the experience and showcase their talent. I’m talking to Inuzuka about the journalism department’s take on all of this already.”
Izuna quickly read the document, nodding in approval. This would be worth the students’ time. At least, he thought it would. He remembered broke undergrad days. He refused to take too much help from his parents at the time, wanting to prove that he could get by on his own and give them the middle finger for how they treated his little sister.
This was definitely worth the time. He would entice them with extra credit too. Technically, Madara had no say in that and Izuna decided he wanted to give his students credit for their work.
“Can you email that to me so I can send it to–”
“Done.” Madara turned his monitor around and clicked a couple of times and Izuna was not even surprised his brother had the email ready.
He swiped away the notification and he saved the email draft for his students. He would do the rest when he could get to his computer at his office. Besides, he had a few pictures he needed to touch up now. He had taken a few on his walk to the building that he wanted to take a closer look at. Then there was the commission he needed to work on too. He didn’t do too many paintings these days, but he liked the challenge.
“Well, I’ll let you know how many of my students take the job. Let the team leads know I’ll do it and give them my email.”
Madara sighed in relief, sinking back into that desk chair, causing it to let out another distressed groan. Izuna made a face.
“You really need a different desk chair. I bet your back wouldn’t hurt so much if–”
“It’s fine.”
Izuna glared at him. “Whatever, I’m going to send you a few options and you pick one. If you won’t buy one, I will.”
“If you take this chair, I might lose it,” Madara deadpanned.
Izuna didn’t buy it. “Don’t care. Doing it.”
Madara just groaned as he left, but Izuna took that as a victory.
As he searched for ‘best ergonomic professional desk chairs’, he tried to think of how he was going to word the opportunity for his students. He picked the top three chairs listed on the website he usually got his chairs from and sent them to Madara in a text. He made sure to find them all in that dark, espresso color his brother seemed to favor.
The art building was blissfully cool as he stepped in. The downside was there was no elevator in the old building and the steps to his office were steep. He got to hear the students grumble about ‘steep ass stairs’ as they clomped their way to the wide open room at the top all year long. He knew Madara was close to helping them get a grant to add on a wing that would allow for an elevator, though. Hopefully, this convention would land that.
His office was on the third floor, and being the head of the art department had its perks. His office was big enough to double as a studio and his computer had enough screens to make it seem like he was leading a space expedition.
In reality, photoshop was a bitch and needed all that screen space for him to do his photography touch-ups and his job.
Izuna gently set his camera on its spot on his desk and he plugged it into the computer. As the photos uploaded, he got to work drafting the rest of the email about the conference. He made sure to attach the document about the payment and offered his extra credit as well. The four seniors he had in mind for this were leaning toward journalism photography instead of art photography. This would be a wonderful opportunity for them.
The rest of his seniors were more of the artsy type, but if these first four didn’t take the job, he would let them in on it so they could have the opportunity too.
He double checked his wording before sending the email, then focused on his other job, which was art commissions.
The commission he was currently doing was a painting of the field of wildflowers just outside the city where the university was. It was a popular place for photo opportunities and events due to the park next to it. Izuna preferred his subject to be people when he did paint, but he liked the challenge of painting all the wildflowers in his hyperrealistic style.
Izuna knew if he went to Hashirama or the other biologists in the science department, he would probably get names for all these flowers and plants easily.
The routine he went through before painting was almost a ritual for him. His paints needed to be in a certain order. His mixing palettes were the only thing he couldn’t truly keep organized, but that was to be expected. His brushes were set out in a neat row, lined up by shape rather than size. He pulled up his reference photo he took himself on the largest screen on his computer before turning the screensaver off and tilting it toward his work station.
He pulled up one of his lo-fi playlists and picked a random one, just needing the background noise more than anything.
After setting his water bottle nearby and putting on his wrist splint, he was finally ready to get to work.
He had most of the greenery and stems done; he was just getting ready to add the flowers themselves, which were all a variety of rich blues and oranges with pops of red and yellow. It was getting every flower to stand out and not mash together like an impressionist painting that was going to be the challenge, but he never shied away from one.
That was Izuna’s goal with his work. He wanted people to question if his painting was a photograph every time they looked at it and force them to study it longer. He wanted them to question their reality, wondering how a human hand could create what was believed only a camera could do. And he was damn good at it, if he had to say so himself. Usually, his commissions were portraits of the buyer’s loved ones, but this commissioner was different. This commission was anonymous, but it was for the main STEM building on campus, so he knew it had to be one of the professors or an alumni who studied over there.
He didn’t care. His name would be on it, he was getting paid, and it would go toward the school, so he considered it a good use of his time.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up a medium-sized wedge brush and got to work.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the massive campus, another professor was getting ready to gouge his eyes out with his own pens.
This convention was held every other year and it was Konohagakure’s turn to host—which was exciting for the grad students who did get to present with the support of their professors—but the set up for it was always the bane of Tobirama Senju’s existence.
He knew that if he had it his way, they could have the whole damn thing planned in one day. Instead, he had to suffer through hours upon hours of scheduling, planning, and just plain bullshit.
Well, at least Kagami was there to entertain him. His grad student-slash-assistant was acting busy on his laptop, but the text that kept appearing on his word document managed to get Tobirama’s lips to twitch every so often.
I think Hyuga just likes to hear himself talk.
Kagami’s face didn’t show anything as he kept typing.
You would think he was the head of STEM. How does Dr. Hashi stand it?
Tobirama used all of his energy to not react. The answer was that Hashirama was just so damn personable and nice that it didn’t bother him. It was a quality that made him a good leader when it came to interacting with others, but that led to wasted time in moments like these.
You hungry? I can order from Torifu’s place
Tobirama nodded.
Fish and rice?
Another nod.
Weirdo.
It wouldn’t be the first time his grad student assistant called him that and it wouldn’t be the last. Kagami had the website for the Akamichi Tea House pulled up and their food ordered in record time.
Tobirama held back a yawn as Dr. Hyuga continued talking about things like ‘proper manners’ and ‘code of conduct’ as if every one in the room weren’t professionals equal to him or entering the world of professionals.
Finally, at long last, the meeting ended and everyone who was in their right mind bolted from the conference room. Kagami was one of them, leaving to go get their food, most likely.
Tobirama took his time, gathering his notes and folders as he waited for his brother to finish his own business. He found his brother talking to Dr. Hyuga, who was head of the pre-med, nursing, and physical therapy programs. Professor Yamanaka, who was head of the Psychology and Sociology programs and Dr. Nara, head of the chemistry program, were nowhere to be seen.
Not all of the STEM programs had projects to present this year, which was normal, but it was expected that the host school would have at least four or five major presenters.
He was proud of his cousin, who was presenting on the importance of balance in athletes’ lives. Touka was standing next to Dr. Hyuga and she made eye contact with him. It looked like it was taking all of her willpower to not roll her eyes. Tobirama held back a smile, stepping forward to save Touka and his brother.
“We can’t have our professionalism be questioned when the other major universities send their representatives,” Dr Hyuga repeated for the hundredth time.
Hashirama nodded, somehow looking engaged and friendly toward the man. “I completely agree, Dr. Hyuga.”
“And it won’t be questioned. We have some of the most brilliant minds in the country who have been to many conferences,” Tobirama said when he got close enough.
Dr. Hajime Hyuga didn’t look pleased when his pale eyes zeroed in on Tobirama. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and if anyone has any complaints, I’m sure they would know to go to Dr. Senju with their concerns,” Tobirama stated, keeping eye contact with the stern old man.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Touka’s shoulders shake in laughter, but he was focused on his task.
“I wasn’t aware that the head of our illustrious STEM programs needed his little brother to—“
“As head of the physics program, I think it’s not essential at this time to talk about professional conduct when we all have given dozens of presentations in our careers. We should focus on scheduling and accommodating our guests, not ourselves.” The more time they spent on ‘proper conduct’ was less time spent preparing for their guest speakers and helping their students. Tobirama couldn’t think of a greater disservice to the students who worked hard enough to get this opportunity.
Dr. Hyuga’s eye twitched as he glared at Tobirama.
He wasn’t phased. He was taught physics by Dr. Akari Uzumaki back in undergrad and during grad school. She was the person he feared and respected the most to this day.
He made a mental note to send her a postcard and give her an update. She was always happy to hear about his students.
Hashirama finally got the hint and patted Dr. Hyuga on the shoulder. “I will write up an email about the expectations for our behavior and how the students are expected to behave by the end of the week, Dr. Hyuga.”
That finally satisfied the man it seemed because he just let out a soft scoff and turned to exit the room. Touka cheekily grinned at Tobirama before following him.
Hashirama let out a long sigh when the room was finally blissfully empty. “Goodness, you’d think we were wild animals with how he was going on,” he chuckled, grinning.
Tobirama resisted the urge to roll his eyes, making his way toward the door. “Hyuga thinks everyone who isn’t a part of his family or in the nepotism ring is savage. I don’t let it bother me.”
Hashirama closed his laptop and stacked it on top of his folders. “Still, his family donates a lot to the school so—“
“Keep it civil, I know,” Tobirama finished, opening the door. He held it open for his brother before asking, “Are you having lunch with Mito or do you want to join Kagami and I?”
Hashirama waved the invitation off. “Mito brought Hakura today. We’re all going to go to her check up.”
Tobirama nodded, making another mental reminder to text his sister-in-law when he had a moment. This pregnancy had been tough on Mito so far and she was only 6 months in. “Is she still craving—“
“Just pickled veggies and sweet buns? Yes,” Hashirama pulled out his phone and Tobirama could see him setting up a grocery pick up order. “She’s been craving miso lately too.”
Tobirama nudged his brother’s arm. “Send me your grocery list. I’ll get it. I have to go after Kagami and I are done today anyway.”
Hashirama looked like he could cry. “You’d do that?”
“You have a toddler and my sister is pregnant. I’m more than happy to help,” Tobirama huffed.
Hakura wasn’t the typical wild most toddlers were notorious for being, but he was still a toddler. While he knew his brother and his wife were more than capable of handling everything, he wanted to help where he could.
Besides, it was Wednesday. Mito always forced him to come over for dinner on Wednesdays. Well, forced was a strong word. He enjoyed Wednesdays very much.
As they stepped out of Sage Hall, Hashirama got a pensive look on his face. “There was actually something I wanted to ask you about.”
Tobirama tilted his head up toward the sky, enjoying the slight breeze. “What is it?”
“There actually was a tiny complaint…about you.”
“And?” Tobirama waited for his brother to spit it out. He was used to not being everyone’s favorite person. It was just his personality and he wasn’t going to change that anytime soon. For someone like his brother who was liked by almost everyone? It was unheard of to be comfortable with being disliked.
“Madara mentioned something about being nice to the professional and student journalists and photographers. They’re doing us a big favor getting this covered and—“
“I know,” Tobirama’s brow pinched as he tried to think of a time he might have been outright rude. “But I can’t think of why I need this warning. Was I blunt with one of them recently?”
Hashirama couldn’t meet his eye all of a sudden and Tobirama suddenly figured it out. He mentioned photographers. And if Madara mentioned it…
Shit, he was talking about Izuna Uchiha. He had to have been. Tobirama didn’t know what he did to make the other man dislike him so much. Ever since undergrad, anytime Tobirama tried to make friends with the Uchiha brothers for his brother’s sake, the younger of the two gave him the cold shoulder.
Which was…unfortunate, if Tobirama was being honest. He wanted to know Izuna better simply so he could ask about his art process.
Izuna’s paintings were some of the most fascinating things he has ever seen. He could even remember the first time he ever saw them, back in undergrad.
Hashirama continued on. “At least be nice to the students, yeah? I don’t want Izuna going mother-bear if you make one of his students nervous.”
Tobirama glowered at his brother, making him laugh. Tobirama made it a goal to never put any student under that type of pressure. They were learning. They were just beginning their professional lives and they needed guidance, not berating.
The thought that Izuna Uchiha might have complained about that made his stomach drop and he couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like they were ever close.
But you wanted to be, a quiet voice said, curling like smoke around his thoughts.
He and his brother parted ways and Tobirama made his way toward the building his office was in and where Kagami and his lunch was waiting. As he made it to the steps into Uzushio Hall, he looked across campus, where the main art building was. Its glass ceiling reflected rays of sunlight in the summer afternoon, and Tobirama remembered the first time he set foot in that building when he was a freshman.
He never understood what art truly was until that day.
It was a late fall afternoon, the leaves had just started to turn and there was a chill beginning to settle in the air. Fall and Winter were mild in the Land of Fire, but it was still enough to make Tobirama stuff his hands in his hoodie pocket.
Mito was walking next to him, chattering about how she was excited to see one of her friend’s ceramic art displayed at the student gallery. He was busy thinking about the physics assignment he had due the next day. But, this gallery was offering extra credit for his Foundations class that was mandatory for every Freshman and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Besides, he liked Mito. She was quickly becoming one of his close friends and he enjoyed spending time with her.
They stepped into the main floor, where a wide room had many different types of art on display. Tobirama appreciated the hushed, contemplative air that blanketed the room. It reminded him of how his favorite section of the library was. Calm and focused.
Mito led the way, looking up at an abstract painting on the wall. The splashes of red and black with the barest hints of metallic gold shining through reminded him of a light trying to shine through a curtain. The title was “fighting demons” and he discovered that he could understand what the artist was getting at.
They slowly but surely made their way through the gallery, and Tobirama eventually got bored. Many different paintings, pencil drawings, sculptures, and ceramics followed the same idea the first one did. Talking about the darkness inside oneself and fighting it. There was only so much seasonal depression he could take before his thoughts drifted back to his unfinished assignment on his laptop back in his dorm.
Mito suddenly tugged on his sleeve, hazel eyes wide as she stared up at a photograph. “Tobira, that’s paint.”
Tobirama looked up at the photograph again and he sucked in a breath, eyes widening when he realized it wasn’t a photograph after all. The main focus of the painting was an old woman reading in the park. He could see every wrinkle in her weathered skin. He could almost count every thread that was loose on her scarf. A content, soft smile was on her face and he could see the reflection of the words in her dark brown eyes. He could read the words even. There were barely any imperfections, but if he looked close enough, he could see the ridge of a thick layer of paint gleaming in the light in some spots.
He turned his attention to the other photos surrounding the painting. These were photographs, he was sure. He studied each one closely, though, hoping to find another painting among them. They were all of the same old woman from different angles. One was even her catching her photographer and giving them a wave with a wide smile.
Tobirama studied that one closely, holding his breath as he took in the details. This one was another painting, it had to be. There was something slightly off about her hand holding the book, but other than that, it was almost perfect. The card underneath confirmed it.
The whole collection was named “Serenity” and that spoke more to Tobirama than anything else he saw before it. He was reminded of his grandmother knitting on the porch while he and Hashirama played in the front yard. He could picture his grandfather smoking a pipe while he read his latest book in the sitting room of their old house.
He hadn’t thought about his grandparents in years. They passed away when he was young, but memories came back so easily with this little reminder.
Everything in this collection spoke of the peace during the every day moments, and he found that his chest ached a little at the thought.
Suddenly, he was desperate to know how this person thought. What made them want to put so much time into the details? How did they make their paintings look so real? There had to be so much planning and work put into a task like that. He found the name of the artist and he almost laughed.
Huh, small world, he thought.
Izuna Uchiha.
Hashirama had been pestering him to meet the two brothers, and now he just might.
“Are you getting emotional about this? Because I am,” Mito whispered, mouth still slightly agape as she stared at the main painting.
“Yeah,” he whispered back, looking at the painting of the woman waving again.
“How long did it take for him to master doing that? It’s insane,” she continued, leaning forward to study the main painting closer. She tilted her head as she looked at one of the photographs again.
“Yeah,” he repeated, not knowing how to put how he felt into words. It was a consistent struggle for him since he was a child, especially having grown up with Hashirama.
They both stared at the art for a long time, taking in the details of both the photos and the paintings. The photographs were also excellent, reminding Tobirama of something a professional would do. Uchiha had an eye for detail, there was no denying that. Tobirama wanted to ask what made him want to take pictures of this woman? What was it about her that called out to him to paint her with such care and detail?
“I just had a crazy thought,” Mito said, voice still hushed.
“And what’s that?”
“If I signed up for an art class next semester for my humanity’s portion would you join me?” She gave him a teasing look. “Or would that be a big waste of your precious math time?”
“Yes,” Tobirama deadpanned and paused for a long second. “But only because I would want to take more than that and I just don’t have the time,” he continued.
Mito arched a thin brow. “Take more than one class? Seriously?”
Tobirama gestured to the photos and the paintings. “To learn to do something like this? I bet that it would take more than one class. To understand how to capture this feeling takes time. I wish I had the time to learn more about it,” he said softly, looking at the main painting. He could understand what his step-mother was talking about when she went to local art galleries now.
Maybe he should go with her next time he was home.
Mito studied the painting again, humming in thought. “You’re right. But maybe we could do a first level thing together? You always talk about needing a hobby. And Hashi told me how my aunt is up your butt about needing to take breaks.”
Tobirama wanted to make a gagging gesture at Mito’s nickname for his brother. ‘Hashi’ just sounded like a bad brand of dusty granola to him. “Yeah, when next semester's schedule opens let’s look together.”
It was a long time before he and Mito moved on from Uchiha’s work. Everything else just seemed to pale in comparison to that collection.
Tobirama found his thoughts wandering back to how Uchiha probably thought about the world.
It was fascinating, to say the least, and he wanted to know more.
He liked fascinating things.