Once Upon a Book Signing
Jiraiya looked up in surprise as the obviously well-loved book was thrust under his nose by a shaking hand. Not by the action, because he’d been signing books held by quivering fangirls, shameless perverts and the odd person who was obviously trying not to be seen there.
Rather, his attention was captured by the hand itself… pale, almost too-slender fingers clad in a half-glove with the metal plate bearing a stylized leaf. It was rare to see someone so openly displaying their status as a hidden leaf shinobi on the southern border.
The boy was in his mid-teens, possibly even seventeen or eighteen- though Jiraiya would wager on younger. He wore a dark mask over the lower half of his face and one eye was hidden behind a scuffed forehead protector. The single visible eye shone with excitement and there was a trace of pink just above where the mask crossed his cheeks. He was lanky and long-limbed and looked like nothing so much as whipcord over bone.
Like the battered book; he looked like he’d been through the wars.
The boy scratched nervously at the back of his neck.
The gesture that sent a sharp pang through Jiraiya’s heart. He’d know that gesture anywhere. How many times had he seen the Fourth use that slightly embarrassed pose?
He forced his mind to focus. The boy wasn’t Minato, dead now for three years, but his student. Sakumo’s brat, the precocious Kakashi. He should have realized it sooner, he thought wryly. That shock of silver hair was a dead giveaway.
He accepted the book and thumbed to the title page. There was ink there, faded and worn with time and handling. ‘Minato, not exactly what you were expecting, but it’s proving to be a bigger hit than I ever could have anticipated. Hope you enjoy… and don’t let Kushina see it! I’ll be by to visit soon-Jiraiya’
He’d sent this very book to Minato barely two weeks before Kyuubi’s fatal rampage, the first printing of what would soon prove to be a very popular book. “Where did you get this?” he asked hoarsely.
The boy’s thin shoulders hunched inward. “Sensei gave it to me, a couple of days before… h-he-” The boy’s voice broke.
Jiraiya decided not to push any further. “So you liked it, then?”
Kakashi nodded so hard it seemed like his head might come off. “I did. The part with Yoriko-chan diving into the lake… and Tsume not being able to catch up with her was one of my favorite parts. It was like it was so real, the story just came to life in my head!”
Jiraiya found it hard not to smile at Kakashi’s unbridled enthusiasm. “You just said the words every writer wants to hear. When something I write takes on life in your imagination, then I know I’ve done what I set out to.”
He dipped his quill and wrote a new message beneath the old. ‘To Kakashi, for understanding the joy that is imagination come to life. Jiraiya.’ With a flourish he dated it and handed it back to Kakashi.
Kakashi’s eye was shining with what could charitably be called hero-worship, and he clutched the book to his chest with the all the fervor of a true fan.
Chuckling, Jiraiya glanced up at the line and estimated time in his head. “Hey, kid, tell you what. Stick around for another hour or so and we’ll get some food and talk for a bit.”
Kakashi looked like he had just won the lottery.
Smiling, Jiraiya turned his attention to the next woman in line, a rather matronly creature clutching two of his books to her rather underdeveloped bosom. “Hello, my lovely lady.” He grinned at her and turned the boyish charm all the way up, watching her cheeks turn pink.
XxXxXxXxX
It was closer to two hours when the store owner chased the last patrons out to close up.
The last out the door was a pair of giggling fans who had been very eager to see if the author lived up to the book’s hero and his reputation between the sheets.
He’d have taken them up on the offer; if he hadn’t already made other plans.
Jiraiya flexed his cramped hand and glanced over to where the teenager had settled in to wait for him in one of the overstuffed reading chairs.
The boy’s head had fallen forward, his muscles gone slack, and even asleep, he was clutching his battered orange book to his chest.
Jiraiya chuckled. “Kakashi-san?”
Kakashi’s head snapped up, single grey eye sharpening with laser-focus. He had a shuriken in hand before he was even really awake. He blinked slowly, and much to Jiraiya’s amusement, his visible cheek and ear shaded to red.
“Ready to get that food?” he asked with a chuckle.
Kakashi nodded, levering himself out of the chair with a weariness that spoke of too many missions on too few meals.
Jiraiya thanked the store owner and led the teen out into the early evening air.
Kakashi kept pace with his longer stride easily.
Jiraiya turned down a side street and finally spotted what he was looking for. He led Kakashi through the curtains of a food stall to take a seat at the well-worn but scrupulously clean counter. “This guy makes some damned fine grub. And from the looks of things; you need some of just about everything on the menu.”
Kakashi ducked his head and grumbled something softly.
Jiraiya plopped down and glanced up at the menu boards, sparing a quick, bemused expression for his younger companion.
Kakashi was studying the planks of the bar with intensity that said he wanted to be someplace else, a far cry from the enthused fan of a couple hours ago.
Sighing, Jiraiya flagged down the stall owner. “A number three with a side of edamame for me. And get the kid a little bit of everything. He needs some fattening up.” He laughed. “How am I gonna find him a nice wife when he looks like a scarecrow that’s lost most of its straw?”
The balding man laughed and patted Kakashi on top of the head before hurrying off to prepare their food.
“I could have ordered for myself.” Kakashi protested weakly.
Jiraiya snorted contemptuously. “And what would you have gotten? Ramen? I know Konoha has recovered enough to be able to feed its shinobi, so why do you look like you haven’t eaten a regular meal in over a year?”
Kakashi mumbled something about missions and stared holes in the bar.
Time to change the subject, then. “So you liked the lake scene then? Any other parts you particularly liked?”
Kakashi brightened like a switch had been flipped and nodded. “I really liked the scene where they were in the gardens. All of the other’s and none of them knowing…”
And just that easily, the floodgates opened. Though he was trying so hard to maintain composure, Kakashi was too enthused to hide just how much of a fanboy he really was.
Making interested sounds, Jiraiya kept Kakashi talking. The boy really was a fan and had some insight into the characters that the older man found surprising. For someone so young he had very surprising ways of looking at the motivations behind the actions.
When the food arrived, Jiraiya interrupted Kakashi’s diatribe with the command to eat.
Kakashi obeyed the order with an alacrity that told the tale of too many missed meals to the other man. The boy was obviously driving himself too hard, a legacy no doubt of both his father and his sensei.
Jiraiya unobtrusively motioned for the stall owner to keep the food coming.
“So what did you think of Tsubaki?” He asked, drawing out a notebook. “I was thinking he had potential for a sequel. There’s a lot of back-story there that could be filled in by another book.”
Kakashi brightened, nodding between bites. “Exactly! Like why he felt he owed Tsume so much and why he decided at the end to do what he did! There’s a lot that could be done with the character.”
Jiraiya stared down at the blank page in front of him, nibbling idly on a bite. “He needs a strong character to play off of. She’ll have to be far more than the spoiled daughter of a daimyo then.”
Kakashi nodded. “Maybe someone who disguised herself to get warrior training, and him not knowing she’s a girl when he first meets her and gets to know her…”
They talked until late into the night, until Kakashi was drooping over the remains of his meal.
Grinning at Kakashi’s sagging head, Jiraiya paid for the meal. The least he could do for the company and the ideas. The kid was definitely full of those. Even if he had no practical knowledge of the more carnal aspects, Kakashi had a surprisingly good grasp of storytelling
And his enthusiasm…
XxXxXxXxX
Some months later, Jiraiya tucked an autographed copy of his newest book into a mailing pouch, and handed it off to a courier. He wished he could see Kakashi’s face when he got the package and read the inscription on the title page.
‘For Kakashi, in thanks for the insight and ideas. I hope you recognize where they were put to good use. And page 17… that’s all you… literally. Jiraiya’
Oh, he’d give a lot to see the kid’s face when he read Tsubaki’s encounter with Ami, Reika, and Kaede… the fangirls.
Because they were all based on one young man he met one day at a book signing.
Rather, his attention was captured by the hand itself… pale, almost too-slender fingers clad in a half-glove with the metal plate bearing a stylized leaf. It was rare to see someone so openly displaying their status as a hidden leaf shinobi on the southern border.
The boy was in his mid-teens, possibly even seventeen or eighteen- though Jiraiya would wager on younger. He wore a dark mask over the lower half of his face and one eye was hidden behind a scuffed forehead protector. The single visible eye shone with excitement and there was a trace of pink just above where the mask crossed his cheeks. He was lanky and long-limbed and looked like nothing so much as whipcord over bone.
Like the battered book; he looked like he’d been through the wars.
The boy scratched nervously at the back of his neck.
The gesture that sent a sharp pang through Jiraiya’s heart. He’d know that gesture anywhere. How many times had he seen the Fourth use that slightly embarrassed pose?
He forced his mind to focus. The boy wasn’t Minato, dead now for three years, but his student. Sakumo’s brat, the precocious Kakashi. He should have realized it sooner, he thought wryly. That shock of silver hair was a dead giveaway.
He accepted the book and thumbed to the title page. There was ink there, faded and worn with time and handling. ‘Minato, not exactly what you were expecting, but it’s proving to be a bigger hit than I ever could have anticipated. Hope you enjoy… and don’t let Kushina see it! I’ll be by to visit soon-Jiraiya’
He’d sent this very book to Minato barely two weeks before Kyuubi’s fatal rampage, the first printing of what would soon prove to be a very popular book. “Where did you get this?” he asked hoarsely.
The boy’s thin shoulders hunched inward. “Sensei gave it to me, a couple of days before… h-he-” The boy’s voice broke.
Jiraiya decided not to push any further. “So you liked it, then?”
Kakashi nodded so hard it seemed like his head might come off. “I did. The part with Yoriko-chan diving into the lake… and Tsume not being able to catch up with her was one of my favorite parts. It was like it was so real, the story just came to life in my head!”
Jiraiya found it hard not to smile at Kakashi’s unbridled enthusiasm. “You just said the words every writer wants to hear. When something I write takes on life in your imagination, then I know I’ve done what I set out to.”
He dipped his quill and wrote a new message beneath the old. ‘To Kakashi, for understanding the joy that is imagination come to life. Jiraiya.’ With a flourish he dated it and handed it back to Kakashi.
Kakashi’s eye was shining with what could charitably be called hero-worship, and he clutched the book to his chest with the all the fervor of a true fan.
Chuckling, Jiraiya glanced up at the line and estimated time in his head. “Hey, kid, tell you what. Stick around for another hour or so and we’ll get some food and talk for a bit.”
Kakashi looked like he had just won the lottery.
Smiling, Jiraiya turned his attention to the next woman in line, a rather matronly creature clutching two of his books to her rather underdeveloped bosom. “Hello, my lovely lady.” He grinned at her and turned the boyish charm all the way up, watching her cheeks turn pink.
XxXxXxXxX
It was closer to two hours when the store owner chased the last patrons out to close up.
The last out the door was a pair of giggling fans who had been very eager to see if the author lived up to the book’s hero and his reputation between the sheets.
He’d have taken them up on the offer; if he hadn’t already made other plans.
Jiraiya flexed his cramped hand and glanced over to where the teenager had settled in to wait for him in one of the overstuffed reading chairs.
The boy’s head had fallen forward, his muscles gone slack, and even asleep, he was clutching his battered orange book to his chest.
Jiraiya chuckled. “Kakashi-san?”
Kakashi’s head snapped up, single grey eye sharpening with laser-focus. He had a shuriken in hand before he was even really awake. He blinked slowly, and much to Jiraiya’s amusement, his visible cheek and ear shaded to red.
“Ready to get that food?” he asked with a chuckle.
Kakashi nodded, levering himself out of the chair with a weariness that spoke of too many missions on too few meals.
Jiraiya thanked the store owner and led the teen out into the early evening air.
Kakashi kept pace with his longer stride easily.
Jiraiya turned down a side street and finally spotted what he was looking for. He led Kakashi through the curtains of a food stall to take a seat at the well-worn but scrupulously clean counter. “This guy makes some damned fine grub. And from the looks of things; you need some of just about everything on the menu.”
Kakashi ducked his head and grumbled something softly.
Jiraiya plopped down and glanced up at the menu boards, sparing a quick, bemused expression for his younger companion.
Kakashi was studying the planks of the bar with intensity that said he wanted to be someplace else, a far cry from the enthused fan of a couple hours ago.
Sighing, Jiraiya flagged down the stall owner. “A number three with a side of edamame for me. And get the kid a little bit of everything. He needs some fattening up.” He laughed. “How am I gonna find him a nice wife when he looks like a scarecrow that’s lost most of its straw?”
The balding man laughed and patted Kakashi on top of the head before hurrying off to prepare their food.
“I could have ordered for myself.” Kakashi protested weakly.
Jiraiya snorted contemptuously. “And what would you have gotten? Ramen? I know Konoha has recovered enough to be able to feed its shinobi, so why do you look like you haven’t eaten a regular meal in over a year?”
Kakashi mumbled something about missions and stared holes in the bar.
Time to change the subject, then. “So you liked the lake scene then? Any other parts you particularly liked?”
Kakashi brightened like a switch had been flipped and nodded. “I really liked the scene where they were in the gardens. All of the other’s and none of them knowing…”
And just that easily, the floodgates opened. Though he was trying so hard to maintain composure, Kakashi was too enthused to hide just how much of a fanboy he really was.
Making interested sounds, Jiraiya kept Kakashi talking. The boy really was a fan and had some insight into the characters that the older man found surprising. For someone so young he had very surprising ways of looking at the motivations behind the actions.
When the food arrived, Jiraiya interrupted Kakashi’s diatribe with the command to eat.
Kakashi obeyed the order with an alacrity that told the tale of too many missed meals to the other man. The boy was obviously driving himself too hard, a legacy no doubt of both his father and his sensei.
Jiraiya unobtrusively motioned for the stall owner to keep the food coming.
“So what did you think of Tsubaki?” He asked, drawing out a notebook. “I was thinking he had potential for a sequel. There’s a lot of back-story there that could be filled in by another book.”
Kakashi brightened, nodding between bites. “Exactly! Like why he felt he owed Tsume so much and why he decided at the end to do what he did! There’s a lot that could be done with the character.”
Jiraiya stared down at the blank page in front of him, nibbling idly on a bite. “He needs a strong character to play off of. She’ll have to be far more than the spoiled daughter of a daimyo then.”
Kakashi nodded. “Maybe someone who disguised herself to get warrior training, and him not knowing she’s a girl when he first meets her and gets to know her…”
They talked until late into the night, until Kakashi was drooping over the remains of his meal.
Grinning at Kakashi’s sagging head, Jiraiya paid for the meal. The least he could do for the company and the ideas. The kid was definitely full of those. Even if he had no practical knowledge of the more carnal aspects, Kakashi had a surprisingly good grasp of storytelling
And his enthusiasm…
XxXxXxXxX
Some months later, Jiraiya tucked an autographed copy of his newest book into a mailing pouch, and handed it off to a courier. He wished he could see Kakashi’s face when he got the package and read the inscription on the title page.
‘For Kakashi, in thanks for the insight and ideas. I hope you recognize where they were put to good use. And page 17… that’s all you… literally. Jiraiya’
Oh, he’d give a lot to see the kid’s face when he read Tsubaki’s encounter with Ami, Reika, and Kaede… the fangirls.
Because they were all based on one young man he met one day at a book signing.