Seeing Green
Drabble 7: Masterpiece

Notes: The idea struck when I was out buying a charcoal sketchbook, hehe.

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As Kazuha was growing up, she was always told that she was a particularly skilled artist. It seemed she just had a natural talent for it. When Heiji had discovered the joys (please) of critical thinking and detective work in their junior year of high school, Kazuha decided that she would do well with a hobby of her own.

So, one Saturday afternoon, after she was done with cleaning duty, she sat down in the empty classroom with a sketchbook and pencil in hand and just sketched. The first image she rendered was a perspective drawing of the desk in front of her – they'd been learning about two-point perspective in class earlier in the week. After that, she stopped thinking about what she was drawing and her hand seemed to move on its own.

It relaxed her. She flipped page after page, simply letting her hand manifest her feelings onto the empty sheets, her fingers sketched as a type of therapy for the various thoughts running through her head.

She continued to draw until the sun went down.

---

His form was perfect for study: tall, muscular in all the right places, yet not too burly, and not scrawny either – lean. She liked to watch him as he practiced with his kendo team – through watching him, she gained an idea about the male form and also – though she would never admit it – there was something about him as he stood candid, something that attracted her.

She had only intended to make him the subject of one sketch. However, to her utter chagrin, her best friend's face stared up at her from nearly all the pages in her sketchbook.

Mentally, she made a note to never let Heiji see the sketchbook. Ever.

---

She had actually focused on this piece for once.

It was a view of the inside of the aikido dojo where she co-instructed. It was all drawn from memory – the planks in the floor, O Sensei's photo up on the wall, and the various students littering the area as they sparred. However, as she nailed the basic sketch down and proceeded to shade in, her mind began to drift.

So much that she didn't notice a figure approaching her. So much that she didn't notice said figure sitting down next to her, until he said, "Hey, whatcha doing, Kazuha?"

She nearly leapt out of her skin. "What the – dear God, Heiji, don't do that!"

Heiji's thick brows drew together as he peered over her shoulder, "I didn't know you took up drawing again. Ah, is that your dojo?"

"Uh… yeah," she admitted reluctantly, turning away from him as she flipped the book closed.

"Can I see it? Your sketchbook, that is," Heiji asked, his grin wide.

"NO," was her rather quick response.

"Why not?" he demanded. "It's not like your stuff sucks or anything. Sensei says you're pretty good."

"My stuff isn't any good," Kazuha insisted. "It's not worth looking at, really."

"I'll be the judge of that," Heiji replied. "Come on, lemme see," and with that, he tugged on her sketchbook, gently but firmly. She wouldn't give it up.

"No," she repeated stoutly, a fierce blush spread across her cheeks. "It sucks. I don't want you looking at it."

He glared at her.

She glared back.

"Hey, Kazuha, what's that?" Heiji pointed to something behind Kazuha's head.

How stupid did he think she was? An age-old trick like that wouldn't work. "What's what?"

His eyes were urgent. "Look, behind you! Endo-sensei's coming – he's probably going to make fun of you for scoring so low on that last physics test…"

She immediately whipped around and knew she'd been duped. Her sketchbook flew out of arms and landed in Heiji's hands, and her eyes widened in horror as he began flipping through the pages.

A portrait of Heiji in his school uniform working on homework was the first sketch after the perspective drawing of the desk. After that was Heiji in his kendo uniform, his game face on as he slammed his sword down over his opponent's shoulder. After that, Heiji with his cap turned forward with his hand at his chin, mulling over a murder.

Heiji riding his motorcycle, racing over a highway. Heiji wearing the grin he gained after solving a case. Heiji lounging on his bed, leafing through the paper. Among these were many more, with very few sketches of other things far and in between.

Complete mortification crept over Kazuha as Heiji perused the sketches, biting his lip in attempt to keep the smile off his face. When he looked at her again, she pressed her hands to her red cheeks and walked a few steps away. "I told you not to look it," she muttered.

He was still fighting the smile – a losing battle, she had to add – as he handed her the sketchbook. "It's… it's good, Kazuha. I'm surprised."

"Not another word," she bit out, balling her fists at her sides.

"No, I'm serious," Heiji insisted, a distinctly lopsided grin now spreading over his face. "Your stuff's pretty good. But I guess it helps a lot when you have a really good-looking subject."

She inhaled sharply, but still refused to look at him. "Tch. Don't think anything of it."

"Well…" he began, that amused smile ever-present on his face, "It's kinda hard not to, considering how many sketches there are of me in there. But I'm curious. Why did you draw me anyway?"

"Cause… cause you're nearby," she sputtered.

Heiji raised an amused eyebrow.

"I… I was only drawing you because I wanted to practice drawing humans, and you were nearby," Kazuha managed. Hopefully it sounded like a good excuse.

"Okay, I get that. But," Heiji took the sketchbook from her and flipped through its pages again, "It's only me. I mean, you've got at least ten in here."

Her cheeks were as red as they could get at this point. "Well… I… er… you know…"

He grinned. "What was that?"

"It's just that—!" Kazuha stopped in mid-sentence to collect her thoughts. "I mean, you're… Well… It's… I dunno… I guess that…" Again she paused. "It's just that… when I have you as a model, things just... I dunno. They turn out right. It's like… things are good, things are perfect. And… yeah. It's like… it's like that."

Heiji just stared at her, his brow furrowing in thought. Unconsciously she shrank back; he was scrutinizing her, just as he scrutinized a piece of evidence on one of his cases. He must have stared at her for the better part of five minutes. Then, as if a light went off in his head, comprehension dawned over his eyes and he positively lit up.

"Alright. I get it, Kazuha," he said with a slight nod and a full-fledged smile. He reached for her hand then, and her returned smile was shy but sure.

Kazuha was good at art, Heiji had to admit.

But he found that her smile at that moment was her best piece to date.

End.