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Pupil of the Serpent	By : Mario Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 2253 -:- 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
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A/N: Please enjoy.

Replies to reviews:
@Reflection: Wow . . . that is high praise. I’ll do my best to live up to it. Please enjoy this chapter.
@weaselchan: Thank you for your compliment. I hope you like this chapter as much as the first one.
@Camille Chanel: More chapters coming soon; I promise. Thanks for reviewing!

Upon waking, Anko’s first thought was that she was lying on a very unfamiliar surface. Until now, all of her “beds” had been made of hard stone or, at best, rough straw. The material her back was currently resting on, however, was quite soft, its surface smooth and regular. Although this fact was curious, it didn’t really motivate her to get up any time soon. She was warm and comfortable—if this was a dream, it was a good one, and she wanted to savor it as long as possible. Smiling contentedly, luxuriating in the feel of the mattress, she rolled over . . .
. . . and was promptly plucked from her resting place. Startled, she opened her eyes to find herself staring into a pair of intense golden orbs, which were, at the moment, narrowed in irritation. It took her only a moment to place the pale skin and long dark hair, sweeping over the refined contours of the haughty face. This was her new teacher; the one who had taken her in for reasons she still could not truly begin to fathom. He held her aloft by the collar of the white robe that he'd given her to sleep in the night before. Unceremoniously, he dropped her on the hard wooden floor.
“Ah . . . that hurt, Orochimaru-sensei.” Anko looked up, rubbing her sore bottom.
Her teacher watched her without sympathy. “Are you really a ninja?” he wondered, scrutinizing her with those piercing eyes. “How long were you planning on just lying there?”
The little kunoichi rubbed her eyes sleepily, then looked up at him with a hesitant smile. “Sorry . . . your bed was so comfortable; I wanted to sleep in a little.”
The Sannin snorted softly. “Put on your gear. We’re going to train.”
“What gear?” She'd always worn the same too-large shirt and dull-colored shorts to her Academy classes. When one of the teachers noticed that her clothing was getting too old, she'd be given a "new" set of second-hand clothes. She'd never considered that this man might expect her to own her own set of ninja gear.
Luckily, he hadn't. He indicated a pile of clothing in a corner of the room. “I picked up some clothes from the materiel depot while you were sleeping. They should fit you.”
Anko went to the pile and looked at the articles of clothing, finding a mesh undershirt, as well as a vest and pants in a dull brown color. To her surprise, she also discovered a pair of underwear. She was tempted to ask if he’d had trouble obtaining female undergarments, but decided she wasn’t ready to die just yet. She turned around to find that he had disappeared, leaving her to get dressed. Removing the white robe, she donned the ninja outfit, delighted to find that it did, indeed, fit her almost perfectly. Unlike her old clothes, they were brand-new. She exited the room to find Orochimaru waiting in the hall.
There was something she'd been wanting to say since the day before, when he'd brought her here. Now, the words formed on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them. After all, what words would truly express the gratitude that squeezed her chest so tightly that she thought her heart might burst? Thank you hardly seemed adequate. Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for letting me stay. Thank you for saving me. All of those things went unsaid, but her expression—the soft, almost adoring look in those liquid amber eyes—conveyed her feelings more clearly than mere words could have.
Orochimaru frowned, unused to seeing any such expression on a child's face—at least, not when that child was looking at him. With an inward shrug, he dismissed the strange behavior. He looked her over once, giving a nod of approval. “At least now you look the part. Where’s your forehead protector?”
“You’re not wearing one,” Anko pointed out.
“I have my reasons. What does that have to do with you?”
“I don’t want to wear anything that Orochimaru-sensei isn’t,” she replied stubbornly.
Her teacher regarded her strangely for a moment, then shrugged. “Do as you wish.”
They left the house, walking side by side down the streets of Konoha. Anko couldn’t help but preen slightly under the curious stares she received from passerby. No one had accepted her before, but now she had someone who did—one of the Sannin, no less. She smiled proudly; she had never been happier in her young life. The young ninja looked around curiously as they passed through the village’s shopping district, where most of the commercial stands and restaurant stalls were located. She’d never really had occasion to come here before, since she never had any money to purchase anything. Most of the shops were still closed, but a few were beginning to open their doors. Including . . .
Anko’s eyes widened and she pulled on her teacher’s sleeve urgently.
“What is it?” Orochimaru glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow, once again finding the childlike gesture Anko had chosen to get his attention to be disconcerting.
“Can we eat breakfast?” Anko’s voice carried a note of desperate, undisguised longing as she stared with guileless eyes in the direction of a certain shop.
“Hmm?” He followed the direction of her gaze, then frowned. “No.”
Anko hung her head pathetically, looking for all the world like a puppy that had been denied a particularly tasty treat. A long moment passed in silence, and then, surprising himself greatly, Orochimaru sighed and began walking towards the dango stall. “Just this once.”
The girl squealed happily, then flung herself at her teacher, wrapping her arms around his midsection in an affectionate hug. “Orochimaru-sensei is the greatest!”
The pale shinobi looked startled for a moment, but then his golden eyes softened. With uncharacteristic awkwardness, he placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair slightly. “Hmph. Don’t get used to it; I’m not soft like Jiraiya.”
The man at behind the stall’s counter looked up at their approach, his eyes widening in surprise. “Orochimaru-sama, what a surprise to see you here! I didn’t know you liked dango!”
“I don’t . . .” Orochimaru muttered under his breath, though not loud enough for the stall's owner to hear.
“What’ll you have?” The shopkeeper seemed genuinely delighted at the discovery of the Sannin’s hitherto unexpressed interest in the rice dumplings.
“I require nothing. Give my apprentice whatever she wants.”
Anko’s eyes glistened with tears of joy. She’d eaten dango once before, when Hideki-sensei had seen her without a lunch and given her his own. The sweet dumplings had been the best thing she’d ever tasted. The man had really cared for his students, Anko realized upon reflection. Even the orphans. She felt a little guilty that she’d never really appreciated him during her time in the Academy—she had been too busy looking out for herself. Well, she would find a way to repay him someday.
The shopkeeper, who had been disappointed that Orochimaru would not be ordering anything, found solace in turning his attentions on Anko. “Apprentice, you say? Well then, miss, I’m sure you’ll be a great ninja someday, just like your teacher!”
“Yeah! I’m going to be just like Orochimaru-sensei!”
“That’s the spirit! What'll you be eating, miss?”
Anko thought back to the time with Hideki-sensei. Not so fast, he'd cautioned, watching her with a sad, gentle smile. You'll get a stomachache, and then you won't be able to practice after lunch. You really like mitarashi dango, don’t you, Anko-chan? I guess it’s just as your name suggests . . .
“I’ll take sixty of your mitarashi dango, please!”
“S-sixty!?” Orochimaru’s voice was somewhat strangled, while the shopkeeper seemed awed.
Yep!”
As she ate, the nine-year-old thought that this must be how the other children at the Academy felt when they laughed and played. Did they feel as happy and secure as she felt now, knowing there was someone looking out for them, that they belonged? And then, another thought:
Is this how it feels to have a family?
The shopkeeper looked up, his face brightening. “Jiraiya-sama! You’re right on time; I’ve prepared the usual for you!”
Anko momentarily glanced away from her meal to see a handsome white-haired man approaching, followed closely by three teenagers that appeared to be several years older than her. She surmised that the three were at least Chuunin-rank by the flak jackets they wore.
“Thanks, Jirobu-san! I’m . . .” the man stopped midsentence. “Huh? Orochimaru, what are you doing here?”
“None of your business,” the raven-haired shinobi replied curtly, his voice cold and filled with annoyance.
“Come on, don’t be like that . . . we’re former teammates, after all.” His eyes fell on Anko, who had turned back to her dango and was devouring it greedily. “Oho! So this is the rumored apprentice that’s giving the village a collective case of epilepsy! She’s a cute one!”
One of the teenagers, a boy with spiky blond hair, gave a weary sigh. “You say that every time you see a girl, you pervert. Isn't she a bit too young for you? Like a hundred years too young?”
The white-haired man simply grinned, apparently unfazed by the insult. “Orochimaru agrees with me . . . he’s treating her to dango, isn’t he? He doesn’t even like dango.”
“Don’t compare yourself to me, you talentless imbecile. Come, Anko. We’re leaving.”
“But . . .” Anko looked regretfully at the unfinished dango skewers on her plate. The snake Sannin grasped his pupil by one ear, tugging firmly. “Ow! Okay! I’m coming!”
Orochimaru turned to the shopkeeper. “This man will pay my bill.” He gestured towards Jiraiya with a smirk. “Always a pleasure, Jiraiya.”
Keeping a tight grip on Anko’s ear, he began to make the same one-handed seals he had utilized before.
“What!? Wait just a second, Orochimaru! I don’t have that much . . . !” The pale shinobi's smirk grew positively vicious as he and Anko disappeared, leaving behind a small cloud of smoke.

Sighing disconsolately, Jiraiya looked at his empty purse with disgust. “Damn you, Orochimaru . . . pay your own damn bill!”
The blond-haired teenager spoke up, chuckling lightly. “So that's Orochimaru. He's not very friendly, is he?”
He winced as he was simultaneously slapped upon the back of the head by his two comrades. “Orochimaru-sama is beyond reproach, especially by someone like you, Minato-kun!”
He rounded on them with a mock growl. "When I'm Hokage, you'll wish you'd been nicer to me!”
“In your dreams, maybe.”
Jiraiya watched his former apprentices quarrel good-naturedly, smiling to himself. Students are a lot of trouble, but they really are worth it . . . most of the time. Anko, is it . . . ?
The smile faded as the toad Sannin reflected on his teammate’s strange behavior in the past year. Orochimaru would return from missions grim-faced and silent, refusing to speak to anyone. Almost immediately after returning, he would set out again, presumably on another task for the village. Today had been the first time in months that Orochimaru had been so lively, and Jiraiya hoped that it signified that his enigmatic friend was emerging from the deep depression that seemed to grip his soul so tightly. Perhaps his new pupil could provide the distraction he so desperately needed to pull him away from the edge of darkness.
Please save him, Anko. From himself . . .

A/N: If you think it's worth your time, please review. As I revise these old chapters, I'd certainly welcome any comments or criticisms you may have.
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Pupil of the Serpent