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Pupil of the Serpent	By : Mario Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 2255 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters contained herein. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
A/N: I know; I said I would try to update weekly, and yet I'm posting this chapter nearly a month after the last one. Well, I have an excuse, of sorts: I fixed the story. Or at least, I attempted to fix it. I really couldn't stand leaving it alone anymore. I obliterated everything I didn't like, and rewrote it all. I hope you'll take the time to read the story once more and tell me what you think of it now. I'm still not entirely satisfied, but I think I've reached the limits of my meager talents.
I never mentioned this before, because I figured it was obvious, but this story is non-canon, in terms of the ages of the characters, dates of events, etc. I'm really not a huge fan of particulars in a story, so for those who read the Databooks or peruse all the numerous sources online—you know much more about the Naruto universe than I do. I rarely look over such things, even for the purposes of writing this fiction. I just enjoy the anime (and occasionally the manga), and alter the facts as suits me for the purposes of this story.
Please enjoy the chapter.

To my reviewers:
@Krissael: I am, as always, extremely gratified to know that you enjoy the story. This tale is my own personal demon—sometimes I enjoy writing it, but most of the time it just torments me. Ultimately, it's hearing from people like you that makes the entire thing worthwhile. It was my great honor, pleasure, and privilege to review your own wonderful story. I am glad that I could be of at least a little help to you. As I post this chapter, I notice that your story seems to be back up-to-date. I will definitely make the time to read and review it. Thank you so much for your kind words.
@Lynx: Thank you so much for your review. I, too, hope that there will never again be a multi-month delay between updates. I'm sorry this one took so long, but I absolutely had to edit the earlier chapters, for my own sanity. Orochimaru is definitely quite OOC in this story. Some of that is intentional, for the purposes of character development and story premise, but other aspects were due to my failures as a writer. I hope that my rewriting will address at least some of those problems. I hope you will continue reading and take the time to review again.
@Mizuru007: I steadfastly refuse to be deluded by your cunning flattery—I'm horrible at this writing thing and I know it. The only reason I keep posting this crap is because of people like you. See, when I posted my first story online, I fully expected to be flamed into oblivion. But everyone is just so nice. Well, you've convinced me to write another chapter of this nonsense, so pat yourself on the back, I suppose. Oh, and please don't hold your breath waiting for me to update; you'll asphyxiate!
@Aeva El: Yay! Low requirements! I'm glad you don't expect too much from me, because I certainly wouldn't be able to deliver. On the literary measuring pole, I'm pretty sure that a midget is taller than me. I promise to try and keep the plot as stable as the Titanic (post-iceberg), and limit my beginner's errors to only two or three per sentence. XD Thank you for your kind words; I hope you'll review again.
@HorriblePsycho: As undeserving as I am, I thank you for your praise. I will endeavor to make the story worthy of it.

Anko shivered in the cool autumn air, goose bumps rising on the exposed skin of her arms and legs. She might have worn something warmer than her usual sleeveless mesh shirt and shorts, but she hated having her movements restricted by too much clothing. Besides, her training routine typically involved enough motion that she didn't have to worry about getting cold. Reaching down to the pouch at her belt, she pulled out several kunai, holding the knives carefully between her fingers.
The sweat dripping from her forehead stung her eyes, but she resisted the urge to blink, instead focusing on the targets in front of her. There were six, arranged in two rows: three in front, and three more hidden directly behind them. Among the many fields reserved for target practice, this setup was considered to be the most challenging, because of the difficulty involved in hitting the obscured targets in the second row.
Taking a deep breath, she flung the kunai, sending them sailing towards the targets. Three of the projectiles were slightly elevated, so that their momentum would carry them over the initial targets to strike the ones in the back row. There was a series of thumps, so close together they almost sounded like a single noise, as the kunai found their marks. She gazed out over the field in satisfaction—all six kunai were buried deeply in the small black circles at the center of each target.
The sound of clapping brought her out of her deeply-focused state. She glanced in the direction of the noise to see a familiar brown-haired man standing a short distance away. A boy that appeared to be close to her own age stood next to him.
"That was very impressive, Anko-chan," said the man, a bright smile transforming his otherwise ordinary features. "It's a bit embarrassing, but I think you might have already surpassed me."
"Hideki-sensei!" Anko grinned, running over to give her old teacher an affectionate hug. The Academy instructor was pleasantly surprised to see how much she'd changed in the time since she'd been his student. There were very few remaining traces of the hard-eyed orphan who had snatched dango skewers out of his hand the moment they'd been offered, devouring them as if she feared the meal would be taken away.
Thank goodness. I was worried, but it looks like she's doing fine now.
"Good morning, Anko-chan." He returned the hug—a bit awkwardly, since Anko had been growing in more ways than one—then stepped back. "What brings you out here so early?"
"I always do my morning training early," the girl replied earnestly. "But why are you here, Sensei?"
"We're just here to do a little special training before the Chuunin Exams," he answered. "But I forgot—you haven't met before, have you? This is my son, Hayate." He gestured to the boy at his side. "Hayate, this is Anko Mitarashi, my old student in the Academy. Orochimaru-sama is her teacher now."
The boy coughed into his hand before responding to the introduction. "Excuse me. It's nice to meet you, Mitarashi-san."
Anko blinked. "Ehhh—!? You have a kid, Hideki-sensei?" Though the resemblance should have been obvious, she'd never imagined him having a family. He was so kind to all his students that it was difficult to think of him as someone's exclusive father.
Hideki laughed. "Yes, I do. You were in different classes, though."
The kunoichi scratched the back of her head, just below her spiky ponytail. "Wow, I never knew." She turned to the boy at last. "Nice to meet you, too! Sorry for jumping on your dad like that." Though the relationship was entirely different, she certainly wouldn't want anyone clinging to Orochimaru-sensei.
"It's okay; I'm kind of used to it." The boy coughed again. "Are you going to be taking the Chuunin exams as well, Mitarashi-san?"
The implications of the question made Anko freeze, a shiver going through her body. Though the topic had never come up, it still worried her. Once she became a Chuunin, she would no longer be Orochimaru's student. She would be alone again.
"I don't think so," she answered carefully. "I'm sure there's a lot more I need to learn from Orochimaru-sensei."
Hayate's father was completely unaware of her thoughts. "Still, Orochimaru-sama should let you sign up. Hayate needs more practice, but your skills are already above Chuunin-level. It's been nearly three years, after all."
The words cast a pall of despondency over Anko. Almost three years, and despite her constant efforts, she was no closer to winning Orochimaru's heart than she had been when she was nine. Her body had grown, and so had her abilities, but he remained completely uninterested. There hadn't even been so much as a repeat of the single kiss they had shared.
"Orochimaru-sensei is on a mission. I'll ask him about it when he gets back."
The first part, at least, was true. This mission was apparently top secret, since Orochimaru-sensei had left in the middle of the night, leaving only a note that held no clues as to his whereabouts, or when he'd be back.
"Three years . . ." Hideki repeated. "Time really does fly, doesn't it? How old are you now, Anko-chan?"
A pause. "Twelve," she replied at last, softly. "I'm twelve."
She felt suddenly numb as reality sunk in. He hadn't come back. She knew it was selfish, wanting him to come back just for her, but she couldn't help it. She had stupidly allowed herself to hope that he would be finished in time. No . . . she had hoped that he would complete the mission faster so that he could return to share the day with her.
Maybe he wants to be here, but can't make it. Maybe he's on his way right now.
Anko shook her head, chiding herself. She was so stupid. Even at the age of nine, she had known that she would never occupy the same place in his heart as he did in hers. And yet she still persisted in holding on to unrealistic wishes. More likely than not, he had simply forgotten.
"Anko-chan? Is something wrong?"
She shook her head again, forcing herself to smile. "I'm just a little tired from training. I think I'll go home now." She collected her kunai from the targets, putting the weapons away. "It was great seeing you again, Hideki-sensei. And good luck with the Chuunin Exams, Hayate-san."
She left without hearing their replies.

Despite what she'd said, she didn't return to the apartment. She rarely spent any time there, except to sleep, when Orochimaru was away—something that happened with increasing frequency, these days. The place felt empty and depressing without him, not like home at all. Her home was with Orochimaru-sensei.
Instead, she wandered aimlessly around the village, walking without really seeing where she was going. Though plenty of people now recognized her and called out to her as she walked past, and she returned those greetings cheerfully enough, she didn't feel comforted by the familiarity. Though Anko was happy to have friends and comrades, there was one thing that she wanted more than anything. Unfortunately, that dream also seemed to be utterly unattainable.
Nearly three years. Perhaps she should give up. She was long past the age where she could fantasize about putting sheaths on swords. Long past the age where a kiss meant infinite hope, and Orochimaru falling in love with her didn't seem an impossible thought. How much longer could she throw herself at the insurmountable wall between them; a wall that showed no signs of weakening for all her efforts at breaking it down?
It's time to grow up, Anko thought to herself firmly. Enough chasing after Orochimaru-sensei. I should take the Chuunin Exams. I could have passed two years ago.
After all, everyone else had moved on, hadn't they? As the war began to die down, people were returning to normal routines. The remaining orphans were being taken care of properly now, and some were even adopted by parents who had lost their own children. Tsunade had settled down with her lover, Dan, and the two seemed likely to marry any day now. Jiraiya had left the village—a vacation, he said, but Anko, no stranger to heartache herself, had seen the faint pain in his eyes when he looked at a certain blonde kunoichi.
People either loved and were loved in return, or loved from afar, knowing their affections had no hope of being reciprocated. She seemed to be the only one who tortured herself by refusing to give up. Like a plant that had adapted to thrive in the shade, the flame of Anko's love for Orochimaru continued to burn brightly even in the cold wind of his indifference.
I'm such an idiot, she thought miserably.
Finally, she stopped at her favorite dango stand, deciding that she would at least treat herself. The proprietor greeted her warmly, as always; the kunoichi was his favorite customer and his best source of business. He had definitely put on a few pounds since getting married a couple of years ago, but it was obvious that he couldn't be happier with his new life. All around her, people were falling in love.
Her hand moved listlessly as she picked up one of the dango skewers on her plate. Raising it to her mouth, she took a small, unenthusiastic bite. Somehow, the dumplings just didn't taste as good as they usually did. She sighed as she put the skewer down again.
Happy birthday, Anko.
She didn't think she'd ever been so unhappy.
Orochimaru-sensei was right, after all. It was a mistake to care.
"Is something wrong with the food, Anko-chan?" The stand's owner was looking at her with concern.
She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, Jirobu-san. I guess I'm just not that hungry."
Now the man's face showed true alarm. If Anko wasn't hungry for dango, something was very wrong with the world.
"Anko-chan . . ."
Anko tried to force a smile, but this time she couldn't quite manage it. "Everything's fine. Really." She paid for the meal, though she'd left most of it unfinished, and left as soon as she could without being impolite.

By the time she'd completed another slow lap of the village, the sun was well past its zenith in the sky. She could think of no more delays that she could justify, even to herself, and it was better to get it over with, anyway. Still, she dragged her feet on the way back to the apartment, reluctant to face the final disappointment.
Standing on the steps that led up to the front door, she sighed. Maybe she would get her own place, after she passed the Chuunin exams. At least then she wouldn't have to see him all the time. After a moment's hesitation, she unlocked the door, pulling it open.
"You're late."
Anko's eyes went wide at the voice, so familiar in its silky tone. She gaped as she took in the sight of her sensei, draped lazily over a chair in the living area. He was still wearing his shinobi outfit and flak jacket, so he must have just arrived. His long black hair framed his pale face with its golden eyes, falling carelessly over his shoulders. He looked tired, but good. He always looked good to her. Even after three years, he still had the same effect on her—even more so, since she could now truly appreciate his appearance.
"That's my line," she managed after a moment.
"Oh? I wasn't aware I needed to meet a deadline."
Her eyes swam. It was just like him to raise her hopes, only to crush her with his indifference in the end.
Don't cry. I can't be weak in front of him.
"Oh, yeah?" She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What mission was so important that you had to go off in the middle of the night without even telling me?"
He gave a soft laugh. "You know better than to ask, little girl."
Don't cry. I won't let him hurt me.
Her arms fell to her sides, her hands balling into fists. She knew that there were certain missions that he had to keep secret, even from her. But he didn't have to take such pleasure in excluding her. He knew how she felt about him, and he seemed to enjoy trampling on those feelings. She could have hit him. For him to play this game today, of all days . . .
Don't cry. Even if he hurts me, I can take it.
"Why even come back?" she spat, burying the pain with anger. "Since you like your stupid missions better than your own student."
"You're quite temperamental today," he noted, amusement in his voice. "Did you miss your sensei that much?"
Yes. "As if. Who would miss you?"
"And to think you used to be so cute when you were younger. Well, I guess I'll just keep this, then." Anko blinked as he raised a hand. Hanging from the pale fingers was a pendant, of sorts—an ornament carved into the shape of a snake's fang, attached to a length of cord.
She stared at him. "But . . . I thought . . ." She felt moisture forming at the corners of her eyes again, and blinked rapidly to clear them. "For me?" she whispered at last.
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe." He handed the necklace over. "I thought we might eat dango tonight."
She clutched the pendant as if it were a holy relic. "I don't think I want dango. Let's have something else."
Don't cry.
"Why are you crying?"
Damn.
"You jerk, Orochimaru-sensei . . . I really can't forgive you this time . . ."
She realized the foolishness of her earlier thoughts. She would never be free of him. And she didn't want to be. Wiping the tears away, she smiled. Orochimaru tilted his head, regarding her with a mixture of humor and bemusement.
"Happy birthday, Anko."

A/N: This was the easiest chapter I've written in a while, in all honesty. I wrote this chapter almost entirely from Anko's point of view so that I could get myself into the rhythm of her older personality, and I find it much easier than the nine-year-old version.
If you haven't already reviewed, what could I possibly say that would convince you now? I've appealed to your humanity and on behalf of my own sanity, offered cookies . . . Let's try a trick, then. If you read this story and you haven't yet reviewed, tell me why. See what I did there?
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Pupil of the Serpent