Sometimes it's hard to see people for what they really are. Sometimes it's just way too easy.
See-Through
He likes to hand in his reports in the morning, the standard, perfect time, which Iruka appreciates. It is the sort of kindness he does not really associate with people anymore, a courtesy that few seem to care enough to exhibit. Iruka takes note of the people that do, because sometimes he likes to remember that not everyone is cruel and petty and childlike in their total lack of care for other people.
So, yeah, he likes Uchiha Itachi-kun a lot, even if it's a silly thing to base his opinion on.
Well, of course it's not the only thing that he likes about that boy, just the one that comes to mind if he's forced to explain himself, which mind you he isn't, since it's such a petty thought.
He likes other things, too. Like Uchiha-kun's neat writing, the way he never speaks out of turn, the precision with which he talks, moves, lives. It's so rare for Iruka to see someone who doesn't make an ass out of himself or try to be eccentric or strange for some unknown reason. The total normality and politeness of Uchiha-kun draws him into a sort of relaxation he rarely experiences anymore. He is probably the only person Iruka can trust to behave the way he is supposed to behave in any given situation, after taking into account the fact that he barely ever speaks or shows emotion.
Over all, it is a comfort to know someone like that.
Of course, he knows he is likely the only person to think that way. Most of the people he knows think that Uchiha-kun is strange at least and secretly planning to torch the village at most. He's heard it all in his time, although these days no one says things like that anymore. Everyone's gotten to know Uchiha-kun now, gotten used to the quiet and his strange behavior. Iruka, when pressured for an opinion (which, mind you, he never is) would say that he doesn't find anything strange about Uchiha-kun. Some people just don't say everything that happens to pop into their mind, which is a nice change for once. And what's so strange about Uchiha-kun, really? To Iruka, wearing a mask every single day for over twenty years is a lot stranger than being a little quiet and withdrawn. Not to mention the other weird stuff he's seen some people do around here. All told, Konoha is a pretty strange village.
Iruka thinks sometimes that Jounin just wouldn't make it with children. From the reactions he observes, he realizes that most of his superiors have no idea about what to do with someone who doesn't have some obvious quirks to their personality, some sort of rhythm which to Iruka seems totally foreign, although he sees it everyday. Probably, if any of these Jounin ever have to look after one of Iruka's youngest classes (which always receive a qualified teacher, instead of a substitute) they would do something stupid that impressionable young minds would absorb and copy, thus perpetuating the cycle of strange behavior.
Iruka finds Uchiha-kun reminds him of his youngest classes, the children who are still so new to the Academy that for the first few weeks they sit in neat little lines and try to keep all expressions off their faces, wondering what exactly is expected of them. Most of those are the children of Konoha's main clans. Iruka can just tell the boy he has just been introduced to is the eldest in his clan because of the way he would sit, ramrod straight back, closed expression with a sort of confusion visible behind it.
When a child's trainer changes, or leaves, or is replaced, they no longer know what to do. All the carefully built expectations disappear and all that's left is discipline to fall back on, to sit still and wait for something to happen because they don't know what this new man might want. The eldest are usually the quietest, because they have been trained the longest and hardest to be the best the clan has to offer, a sort of trophy to award the village of Konoha.
So yes, Uchiha-kun is like that too, the child who no longer has the instinct to run off and play but doesn't quite know what to do with himself, either, when there are no instructions to fulfill. Sitting there, not-fidgeting in his own little lineup of others whom he'd never met, staring at an instructor whom he doesn't know. Expecting nothing, because this situation is so new he doesn't even know if orders apply anymore, or if in the Academy one simply trains by themselves somehow, like the older kids do, or if he is about to be hit, hurt, sent home in disgrace. Permanently on edge behind the politeness and the routines he cannot erase.
Iruka finds it charming, although the comparison in itself is worrying, he supposes. Uchiha-kun is just too young. Iruka can no more accept him to be the equal of his fellows and not a child than he can accept that Naruto will eventually grow to become a greater ninja than he. Iruka is too used to his students, perhaps. He knows it himself and he does not protest. He is comfortable where he is, in his own little lineup, and his expectations have grown to encompass all the strange, eccentric, and downright insane people this village has and will produce.
Of course, if he's pressured, he'll admit that it is not normal, the way Uchiha-kun doesn't seem to have any expectations, looks perpetually ready for anything and everything to happen to him from a world of people he still doesn't seem to trust or even understand. After all, these same children that for the first few weeks sit in neat little rows and quietly copy down lessons eventually grow into a talkative crowd with their own micro-universe inside the classroom, their own superiors and inferiors and eccentric friends whom they nevertheless have grown to have expectations of. In the end, not even the quietest kid Iruka's ever taught had left the academy unchanged.
Iruka has been told he has the tendency to misjudge people. As Kakashi-san ever so frequently points out, Iruka doesn't seem to live in the real world, where Shinobi are dangerous and even Genin are fighting for their life in every mission. He wonders, privately, if he is misjudging Uchiha-kun. It would not be so strange, after all Iruka only sees him a few times a year for any extended length of time, to discuss his younger brother's grades.
Somehow, though, he cannot let go of that first impression; the polite child, just barely into adolescence and already a Chuunin, coming to hand in a report at exactly 6:30 AM, just like on the schedule all the new Chuunin are given, huge eyes staring silently, bow precisely at the right angle, words and tone calculated to mean nothing.
Iruka is not sure that it is a good impression, or that Uchiha-kun is a good person, but he cannot let go of the notion that the boy is too easy to read.
END
Well, another one-shot in the same universe as the whole series. I am thinking about adding more points of view, specifically Naruto, Kakashi (coming up next), and possibly Sakura.
And I'm not trying to paint Iruka as oblivious, or naive. He sees something that no one else sees, and I'll let the reader decide how much truth is in there. Personally, I think he sees Itachi's motivations maybe better than Itachi does himself.
Next up: Kakashi? Maybe...