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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: Enjoy.

To my reviewers:
@Small Fox: I didn't intend for the ending of the previous chapter to be bitter, but now that you mention it . . . you're right. It does have a sort of bitter irony to it, considering what the future has in store for these two, eh? Thank you for your review; please continue to enjoy the story!
@weaselchan: Yes, I'm trying to keep the updates fairly frequent, but I do hope you'll forgive me if I fall behind. In the meantime, please keep reading and reviewing—I really appreciate it!
@Lynn: Yay! I'm so glad you enjoy this pairing—I think it's really cool as well, and far more plausible than most others. I hope this next chapter is as satisfying as the previous two!

Upon arriving at their destination, Anko immediately took stock of her surroundings. They were in a densely-wooded forest, standing within a small clearing surrounded by trees on all sides. It was dark, since the branches of the trees spread above them, forming a leafy canopy that made it difficult for light to penetrate.
“Where are we?” she asked softly, almost afraid to break the unnerving silence of this place.
Orochimaru smiled chillingly. “The ‘Forest of Death’,” he replied. “This is where we’ll be training.”
The kunoichi shivered nervously, and not entirely because of the ominous-sounding name. Instinctively, she was on edge—though her sensei had been nothing but kind to her, she knew that at this moment, she was being judged. Those golden eyes were fixed upon her, weighing minutiae, evaluating things she did not even know about herself. This was a test, and she did not intend to fail.
Her teacher handed her a medium-sized bag. She looked inside to see that it contained a sizeable amount of weapons, scrolls, and other ninja tools.
“Let’s see what you can do,” said the pale shinobi, still watching her unblinkingly. “What did they teach you in the Academy?”
Anko looked away from that burning stare, studying her toes. “Um . . . just the basics, I guess.”
“And how much did you learn from the scrolls in the back room?” came the next question, immediately.
The girl froze, her eyes flying back to his, then immediately looked down once more. What she had seen in that fleeting glimpse of his expression was both enthralling and terrifying. He was watching her eagerly, with an intensity that went beyond mere curiosity, his eyes demanding the truth. How had he found out . . . ? She had waited until no one was watching; there was no way she'd been seen. The back room of the Academy held a collection of scrolls containing advanced jutsu for Chuunin ninja; she had snuck in and read them in the hopes that learning the jutsu would make her stronger.
Anko swallowed hard, knowing better than to lie. “How did you know?” she asked softly.
The Sannin made an impatient gesture. “Because I did the same thing when I was a student there. Were you able to use any of the jutsu you read about?”
“I . . ." He wasn't going to scold her for breaking the rules? "A few, I guess . . .”
Orochimaru nodded, secretly pleased. It was no mean feat to be able to perform those techniques as a mere student. This girl was exactly the type of pupil he’d been searching for, a rare talent to match his own.
“Show me,” he said simply, then whirled into a vicious kick that would have taken her head from her shoulders, had she remained where she had been standing.
Anko ducked, leaping back to gain space. She circled slowly, making sure to keep her eyes on her teacher at all times. A mix of excitement and tension sent a chill down her spine; she wanted—needed—to please him, more desperately than she needed to eat or breathe. He had given her the gift of acceptance, and it had become the core of her being. She would do anything to preserve that connection between them; the first bond she had ever shared with another person.
Without warning, her teacher appeared in front of her, his right hand thrusting at her throat. She parried the attack, pulling her other hand back to counter. She planned a series of jabs: a strike to the stomach, solar plexus, and chin. To her surprise, Orochimaru stepped inside her first punch, stealing the force from the move. Before she could retract her arm, he grasped it near the elbow with both hands and pulled, causing her to stagger towards him. As she did so, he stepped to the side and neatly tripped her, letting her own momentum send her tumbling to the ground.
“Your taijutsu is adequate, but your eyes follow your movements. Watch the opponent’s face, not their body.” His voice had taken on a lazy, instructive tone, but beneath that, the intensity was still there. He was waiting for something.
Anko grit her teeth as she climbed to her feet. She wanted to impress him, but how . . . ? Narrowing her eyes, she drew a large, folded shuriken out of the bag he'd given her. She allowed the blades to snap open, aiming carefully at her sensei, who stood casually, watching her.
“So it’s shuriken now, hmm? But you can’t hit me with that.”
I already know that, Anko replied silently. But even you will have trouble dealing with this, Orochimaru-sensei!
Flinging the shuriken, she quickly performed the seals that would activate the technique.
Ninpou: Kage Shuriken no Jutsu! Moving swiftly, she threw several smaller shuriken behind the first, letting its shadow conceal their flight. Unfazed, Orochimaru grabbed the larger shuriken out of the air, using it to knock aside the ones that followed. The jutsu had been nothing but a distraction, however, and Anko was already leaping into the air above her teacher, forming seals at a rapid pace.
“I’m not done yet! Katon: Housenka no Jutsu!” She had just enough time to see the Sannin’s eyes widen in surprise before he was engulfed by the fireballs she had unleashed from above. She landed on a nearby branch, panting heavily.
“How’s that?” she demanded, looking proudly at the conflagration. “I bet you didn’t expect . . .”
Feeling a presence behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see her sensei standing on the tree branch, looking entirely unruffled. He tapped his shoulder with the shuriken he had caught earlier, regarding her thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said at last. “You’ll do nicely . . . I’m glad that you’re my student, Anko.”
The nine-year-old kunoichi looked at him in surprise, and a wide smile formed on her face. “I’m happy too . . . Orochimaru-sensei . . .”
With those words, she tumbled backwards off the branch she was standing on. Orochimaru caught her quickly, gathering her carefully in his arms before descending from his perch. Hearing a contented snore from his charge, he laughed quietly. “Heh. Using so much chakra that you lost consciousness . . . what a foolish child.” Still, he was impressed. A normal Genin wouldn't have been capable of even half as much. He looked down at her face once more, still adorned with the same beatific smile she had worn before falling asleep. Shaking his head, he placed her lightly on the ground before drawing a blanket over her.
Children . . .

After a few months of training in the Forest of Death, Anko had become proficient in several jutsu that her sensei had taught her. In the Academy, she had often grown bored with the pace set by her teachers, who insisted on waiting for the entire class to master a technique before moving on. By contrast, Orochimaru pushed his lessons on her almost before she was ready, forcing her to learn so quickly that she often felt as if she would drown in a endless sea of jutsu. Still, like a sponge, she absorbed it all, often training long into the night in order to meet and exceed his relentless demands. His knowledge was a feast, and Anko was ravenous for it all. Despite his unceasing approach to her instruction, her sensei never demanded more of her than she was able and willing to give.
His praise, although it was rare and never effusive, was what she looked forward to the most. When he praised her, he would give her that special look that reconfirmed her sense of belonging. A tiny smile would form on his pale lips, and his eyes would gleam with pride. He was proud of her. This would hardly have been sufficient motivation for most Genin to work themselves to exhaustion, of course, but Anko would have gone through fire, to hell and back, for such a reward.
As always, her sensei was at the forefront of her mind as she gathered the firewood that would be necessary for their camp that evening. They often spent the night in the Forest of Death so that Anko could continue training, rather than go back to the village only to return the following morning. Placing the collected wood in a pile on the ground, she concentrated, frowning slightly. Suddenly, her hands moved, forming the well-rehearsed seals that would channel her chakra into the jutsu.
“Katon: Ryuuka no Jutsu!” A small flame ignited from her mouth, blossoming into a miniature inferno as it met the dry tinder. As the initial surge of heat died down, a cheerful fire remained, sparking merrily. “All right!” Anko leapt into the air, laughing aloud with the delight of having mastered yet another jutsu. “I did it, Orochimaru-sensei!”
The snake Sannin looked on indulgently from where he sat opposite her. “Excellent work, Anko,” he said quietly, the glow of the fire reflected metallically in his golden eyes, which once more held that fierce look of pride that Anko had come to know and love. Tonight, his expression seemed almost hungry. “As expected of my student.”
“Of course! I’m going to do even better from now on!”
Orochimaru motioned slightly with one hand. “Come here.”
The girl moved over to her teacher, sitting down in front of him and resting her head against his chest. She looked up at him curiously. “What is it, Sensei?”
“Give me your hand,” he prompted. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his, entwining his pale fingers with her own.
His hands are always so cold. She clenched her small hand around his more tightly, trying to warm him. Noticing the change in her grip, Orochimaru raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Aren’t you frightened of me, Anko? Most people are.”
“A little,” admitted the diminutive kunoichi. “But I like Orochimaru-sensei, even if you scare me sometimes,” she added with childlike innocence.
For a moment, Orochimaru looked startled. Then he threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. Anko looked at her teacher, puzzled. “What’s so funny, Sensei?”
He simply shook his head, still laughing a little. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
He took the hand he was holding and turned it so that Anko’s palm was facing upward. With his other hand, he retrieved a kunai from the bag they had brought with them, holding it over the flesh of her palm.
How she trusts me! Orochimaru marveled. Even though he held the blade of the knife against her skin, she didn’t flinch or try to pull away. She simply kept looking at him, her large amber eyes displaying complete calm. For some reason, this made the Sannin angry. He'd told her many times not to trust anyone, but the lesson just didn't seem to stick; at least not as it pertained to him. Didn’t she know who he was? Orochimaru was honored and praised as one of Konoha’s finest shinobi, yes . . . but no one trusted him. He drew the knife swiftly across her palm, his annoyance causing him to cut a little deeper than he’d intended. The girl hissed softly, but didn’t protest or try to retract her hand.
“Aren’t you wondering why I did that?” he asked after a moment, still not quite able to comprehend this level of implicit faith.
Anko shrugged her small shoulders, giving him her usual cheerful smile. “Orochimaru-sensei can do whatever he likes with me. Besides, if you aren't going to tell me, you won't answer even if I ask.”
Orochimaru frowned at this answer. Most of the time, Anko was a normal, energetic child, often bordering on hyperactivity. Sometimes, however, she would gaze at him with a secret knowledge reflected in those amber eyes, as if she knew the sins of his past and those he would yet commit, and forgave him for all of them. As if she had already judged him worthy of her complete trust, despite his warnings to the contrary. There was something possessive in that gaze, something that said: I accept you, Orochimaru-sensei, for who you are.
He shook his head to dispel these thoughts. "I'll tell you. Here, write your name on this scroll using your blood.” He produced a small, tightly wound scroll, which he presented to her. Taking the scroll in her clean hand, she unfurled it carefully. A number of names were displayed upon the parchment, all written in blood. Anko didn’t recognize any of them, except the last.
Orochimaru.
Shaking with anticipation, Anko used a finger to take some of the blood from her palm, then applied the blood to the scroll, writing her name as neatly as possible.
Anko Mitarashi.
Her teacher nodded, then took the scroll from her, tucking it into a fold of his robes. “I’m going to teach you a new jutsu today, so watch carefully.”
Anko beamed happily, always excited to learn a new move. Taking her hand in his once more, he rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a tattoo inscribed upon his forearm. Gently, he moved her palm over his own arm, leaving a trail of blood through the markings of the tattoo. Releasing her hand, he began to form seals slowly and deliberately. Anko watched carefully, memorizing the sequence. Finally, Orochimaru raised his arm high before bringing it down, letting his palm strike the ground heavily. “Ninpou: Kuchiyose no Jutsu.”
A sudden cloud of smoke obscured all visibility for a moment, shrouding everything in a white mist. When it cleared, an immense snake coiled itself before the pair, looking down at them with hypnotic eyes. “Orochimaru-sssama,” the snake intoned respectfully. “What are your ordersss?”
The pale shinobi waved a hand negligently. “Begone.” The snake vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, creating another cloud of smoke upon departing.
“A-amazing!” exclaimed Anko excitedly. “Can I do it?”
“Yes; now that you’ve signed the contract, you should be able to summon a snake at any time. It requires an offering of blood, followed by that seal sequence. Do you remember it?”
“Um . . . Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, and Ram, wasn’t it?” Anko asked uncertainly.
“That's right. Try.”
“All right; here goes!” Anko formed the seals quickly, then struck the ground with her still-bleeding palm. “Kuchiyose no Jutsu!”
Once again, the cloud of smoke formed, temporarily blinding the two ninjas. The results that were revealed when the smoke cleared, however, were less than satisfactory. Anko looked indignantly at the garden-variety snake she had summoned. The snake returned her gaze as if daring her to comment.
“Yesss?” it inquired in an irritated tone. “What do you want, you ssstupid little girl, sssummoning me from my . . .” The snake trailed off as it took note of the other person standing in the clearing. “Orochimaru-sssama! I’m sssorry; I didn’t notice your presssence! How may I ssserve?”
The snake coiled and undulated as it spoke, seeming to genuflect to the Sannin. Orochimaru, who appeared to be suppressing laughter, simply jerked his head towards Anko, and the snake followed the motion, turning back to the young girl. “Lady,” began the snake, its tone much more respectful than before. “What isss your wisssh?”
“Go away,” she said sourly. The serpent vanished instantly. The girl turned to her amused teacher with a miffed expression. “What was that supposed to be?”
Orochimaru grinned. “Your summon. Please don’t tell me you were expecting the same result as myself.”
“No, but . . .” Anko frowned. “That was totally lame,” she complained. "When can I summon a big one like you?"
“It’s a bit early for you, yet. You’ll need more chakra if you want to summon something more powerful.”
Anko’s eyes narrowed in determination. “Then I’ll keep practicing until I can do it,” she said stubbornly. She licked the wound on her hand absently as she spoke, cleaning her palm of blood.
Without quite knowing why, Orochimaru took her hand again, this time raising it to his mouth. He licked the wound, letting his tongue run over it gently. Anko shivered a little . . . being close to Orochimaru-sensei like this made her feel happy, excited, and more than a bit frightened. Eventually, he let her hand drop wordlessly, running his tongue over his lips as if to savor the faint remnants of her blood. They sat there in silence for a moment before the kunoichi got up and walked back to the other side of the fire, fully intending to continue her ninjutsu practice. A sudden thought brought her up short, however. She turned back to her teacher, leaning over so that she was looking him in the eyes.
“Orochimaru-sensei?” she inquired, her tone too cheerful to be entirely innocent.
“What is it?” asked Orochimaru, feeling somewhat discomfited, although he couldn't imagine why.
“That was an indirect kiss, wasn’t it?” For once, the snake Sannin was lost for words, staring at his pupil with a dumbfounded look on his face. With a little giggle, Anko flounced back to her side of the fire, where she began to practice again. Orochimaru watched her bemusedly from his seat on the ground.
Just what is it with this girl?

A/N: To everyone that has reviewed—thank you! I cannot express how much I appreciate your support and insightful comments! Please continue to do so; it means just as much each time. If you haven't reviewed yet, take the time to tell me what you think and how I can make the story more enjoyable for you!
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Pupil of the Serpent