(Blame Starbucks' for this, okay? I'm not entirely sure what this is, at all. It just came to me... o-O 'Nyway... I don't know that much about Itachi personality-wise, but... I couldn't resist this. Enjoy.)
He came out of nowhere, cloaked in black, his eyes just as dark. They were now red, dark as blood. The man cam so silently and suddenly, it was like he had been there the whole time. Maybe he always was, following her. Bloodthirsty and vengeful, he crept up to the little girl. He then realized her gaze turn to him, while the knife was so close, yet so far. No. She'd ruin it if she screamed...
The girl was silent, studying the man near her. He had dark, messy hair, and, by the head band, was a ninja. She then noticed his eyes. They were red, with black swirls inside them. But there was no emotion, they weren't 'the windows to the soul', as her mother had said all eyes were. He seemed tired, with bits of purple under those 'fake' eyes.
"Ninja-san," she muttered, looking into his Sharingan with an odd look on her face.
"Where are your real eyes?"
"What are you talking about?" he growled, glaring at the child.
"Your eyes... They don't show what you're really feeling."
Ugh, he had no time to deal with such nonsense...
"What if I'm not feeling anything?"
Her lips turned upwards. He had forgotten how to do that a long, long time ago.
He didn't remember smiling. Ever.
"Silly, you have to be feeling something! Like happy, or sad, or angry..."
He turned, starting to leave, but she tugged on his cloak.
"So, what ARE you feeling, Ninja-san?"
He didn't answer at first, but looked down at her, though his glare was still as cold.
"I feel... lonely."