A/N: Naruto's goggles always reminded me of Obito.
Warnings: Um...none, really. Except a slightly nice Itachi.
Twelve-year-old Uchiha Itachi dangled the goggles on his finger, bouncing them idly as he quietly slipped out of the Uchiha compound. He didn't mind if they had a family party. He didn't mind if they had a huge one that could be heard from halfway across the village. What Itachi did mind was the fact that they had it right the instant after he'd returned from a very difficult mission, and then had the audacity to make him attend when all he wanted to do was sleep.
Besides, his aunt's overly happy laughter and the (relatively quiet) noise of the holiday cracker she'd forced him to pull with her were still ringing in his ears.
Itachi found a nice quiet grove of trees, far away from the training grounds or anywhere there might be more than a whisper of noise. Unfortunately, even his trained shinobi 'sleep when you can' skills were unable to cope with his sudden and inexplicable need to be awake.
Sighing, he turned his attention to the goggles in his hand.
They were orange.
They were stupid-looking.
They reminded him of his cousin Obito, whom he just barely remembered as a tall, awkward shape who'd guided his hand on the grip of a kunai; who'd taught him how to climb a tree without using his hands. Obito had been kind — (if not clever) — and fun — (if not a genius like him).
Itachi shook his head ruefully. His mind never wandered on missions, so it seemed to try and make up whenever he was off-duty. He stood fluidly, and began to leave in search of another resting place, when his uncannily sharp ears caught a sniffle.
A child, he deduced. Anyone older would have been inside at this time of night — and besides, only small children made that kind of noise.
...Although, he'd never come across a child with this much chakra. It billowed out, pushing against Itachi's senses with the force of a Suiton wave.
Cautiously, he approached the child.
It was a boy with yellow hair, about the age of Itachi's own little brother. He was crying softly, just a few tears rolling down his face in counterpart to his huge sniffs. Itachi, curious, knelt next to him.
"...Why are you crying?"
The boy, surprised, stopped mid-sniffle to look up at him. "Th-they don't l-like me..."
"Who?"
"Th-the villagers. They don't like being around m-me..."
Itachi nodded, catching a glimpse of the blonde's lower face and the six scar-like marks, like whiskers, that spread across his cheeks. The Kyuubi jinchuuriki. Naturally — there were very few people in the world who knew how the Yondaime's seal worked, and many of the rest were afraid that the demon would break loose at any time.
Besides, Uzumaki Naruto was a painful reminder of what had happened five years ago. Of course he wasn't well liked.
"It's prob'ly cause I p-played too m-many pranks..."
Pranks. A flash of memory; a spiky-haired teenager's raucous laughter at Itachi's father with pink dye poured all over his head.
Impulsively, Itachi lent forward to lay a mentor's kiss on the jinchuuriki's forehead. Pulling back, he glanced at the goggles in his hand before gently pulling them down over the spot. He set one hand on the blond hair as he stood up.
"Child. Stop worrying about what other people think."
As he walked away, Itachi reflected on the fact that he felt a lot better now. Perhaps some ghosts had been laid to rest — or, perhaps, comforting a crying child was the perfect counter to the headache caused by a house full of raucous Uchiha.
A/N: This was just an answer to "Where did Naruto find those goggles?", but there is a slight possibility that this may be continued as an AU. Slight. Currently I'm a bit busy working on several WIPs (only one of which is currently posted here) and trying to hide from the plotbunnies of doom. But it may happen.
Itachi would have been a toddler when Obito died (perhaps three or four), but considering he's a genius, that's perfectly old enough to have a few memories of his cousin. Besides, I would imagine Obito to be rather...memorable.
Itachi is a fun character to write. He's like Neji — when you see him, he's all deadly and emotionless, but you and your fellow fans secretly suspect that he has not only normal human feelings, but an actual sense of humour.
(And apologies for not having a new chapter of 'Life' yet; I'm being attacked by a distraction — hey, look! A new collective noun! — of plotbunnies.)
