Yaaaaay perspective change. Think of this as kinda like the whole arc with Obito in Naruto, only it didn't go as far back in time. Now we get to find out what the heck Ookami has to do with Itachi! Which, frankly…is less dramatic then some might think. I should probably metion that I started writing this portion of Ookami before I started writing the beginning…Hey, I had more inspiration for this part. I figured out how Ookami met Itachi before I came up with how I bring Kouichi and Sasuke together. Oh, well.
Disclaimer: IF IT AIN'T MINE IT AIN'T MINE!
Itachi was having a very bad day.
It had only been a week since he had joined the ranks of the Akatsuki, but it had taken far less time than that for him into determine that at least fifty percent of them were mentally unsound, if not completely off their rockers. And most of the other fifty percent were overly mysterious, far too arrogant, some mixture of the two, or – let's face it – Orochimaru. Words couldn't begin to describe the absolute loathing Itachi held for the snake.
He'd been assigned as a partner to Kisame, who, despite his-ahem-odd appearance, was probably one of the least annoying of the group. But for some reason, which Itachi was fairly certain he didn't want to know, Kisame had immediately decided to go to a ramshackle town in the middle of nowhere. It was land belonging to the Fire Country, but the tiny village was so out-of-the-way that obviously, news of the Uchiha massacre had not reached the ears of its inhabitants. The unhappy teenager was seated quietly on a bench outside of a store, waiting for Kisame where it was at least slightly cooler than the rest of the area. It still felt like a furnace. The heat was so intense, the air actually felt heavy, and was stuffy even outside. There was no breeze. The village itself was pitifully poor.
To sum it all up, Itachi felt like he would catch on fire if he didn't drown in his own sweat first, the flies and gnats felt like they were trying to eat him alive, three different people had tried to pickpocket him in the last half hour, and the dust kicked up by people walking past was turning his trachea into a desert to rival Suna. But the worst part was the little boy that kept walking around the town. Normally, a young child wouldn't have bothered the teenager. But every time the boy entered Itachi's path of sight, his conscience gave a painful twinge.
The kid must have been about five years old, and seemed to be lost by the way he kept wandering around. His relatively thick, untidy, nearly shoulder-length hair was the color of raven feathers. Or so Itachi assumed, seeing as it was difficult to tell due to the combination of dried mud, twigs, leaves, and other various bits of forest caught in the matted strands. His tattered clothes were in a remarkably similar condition. His skin, the tone of which was indiscernible, had multiple half-healed scratches and fading bruises all over its surface. The child's eyes were wide and dark, and perfectly complimented the soft curves of his slightly flushed cheeks. The boy looked so much like Sasuke did at that age, it hurt.
Overall, today was making Itachi exceedingly agitated.
He let his eyes close-the better to not see the boy again-and just let his mind drift off, taking care not to reflect for long on the massacre for the sake of his sanity. Someone joined him on the bench, but Itachi didn't bother with seeing who it was. If it was Kisame, he would probably have said something, and if it was anyone else, Itachi could care less.
"Um…Mister?" A small, cautious voice begged, in unison with a light tug on Itachi's sleeve. The teen snapped his eyes open and looked at the bench next to him. It was the little boy. Of course. The universe, it seemed, had a lousy sense of humor.
"What?" Itachi all but snapped at the boy, avoiding his gaze. The innocent, pleading look in his eyes was achingly familiar.
"Can…can you help me with something?"
Itachi sighed. "Well, that would depend on what it is. I really would rather not move, seeing as-" The boy cut him off mid second.
"Oh, no, nothing big. You don't have to move. I was just wondering if you could teach me how to snap my fingers. It feels like I've asked the whole town, but no one wants to help. Would you mind?" Itachi blinked, surprised at the simple request.
"Why don't you just ask your parents to teach you?"
"They're dead." The child looked away as he spoke. Itachi's gray eyes narrowed. That explained why the boy looked as though he counted trees among his extended family. He was living alone.
"So why do you want to learn to snap your fingers so badly, then?"
"Just cause."
Itachi was silent for a minute or so, taking in everything he could about the strange child. Eventually, he sighed, and wearily agreed. The boy's face lit up. The elder of the two demonstrated for the eager little boy, helping him to adjust his fingers and practice until the motion produced a satisfying clicking noise. Ecstatic, the five-year-old slid off the bench, and bowed quickly, exclaiming, "Arigato! I really have to go, but I hope we meet again!" For the first time, Itachi noticed the boy's eyes – they were deep blue, with all the depth and sparkle of the sky at midnight. The boy dashed off before Itachi could say another word.
As he settled back into disgruntled boredom, something caught Itachi's eye. Where the young boy had been sitting were a few fine hairs, probably shaken off of the child's filthy clothing. The long, gossamer strands just didn't fit with anyone or anything Itachi had seen in the area. They looked to be animal in origin, but no animal living near or in the village should have had a coat of that length and texture. As a matter of fact, no animals about even fit the color of the fur-white as snow. And it certainly hadn't come from the head of the child, what with his (potentially) raven-colored mop. So where…?
Hmm, who is that little boy, I wonder, ne? (Apple~chan, not a word out of you. No spoilers.) Reviews please! Criticism will be used for improvements. Flames will be used for weenie roasting.