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Pupil of the Serpent	By : Mario Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 2252 -:- 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: Hello, and thanks for reading! This is my first Naruto fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy it!
Edit: The renovations are complete! This story is as close to readable as I can currently manage. I will continue to try to improve it, of course, but the major changes are finished.
WARNINGS: Though I would have preferred to keep the tags in the story description, it seems that the character limit just isn't going to cooperate with me. Therefore, they're going right here. This doesn't really bother me much, because this really just isn't the kind of story that lends itself well to a bunch of tags as a description. With that said, this is an Anko/Orochimaru story that contains sexual activities between a minor and an adult, character abuse, traumatic character deaths, and what you'd probably consider to be a "bad ending". If you have a significant aversion to those kinds of things, you'd probably be doing yourself a favor by hitting the "Back" button on your browser. This is a work in progress, so I'll also post warnings on any chapters that I feel contain content that some people may not want to read. Oh, and I guess I'll warn you right at the outset that I kind of suck at writing, so feel free to flame me if it alleviates your disappointment with the story.

The small, dark-haired girl stood apart from the rest of the crowd of children that waited near the school’s entrance, her emotionless gaze occasionally sweeping the area. A stranger might have found the girl’s unnerving stillness out of keeping with what one would expect from a child, but a ninja would merely note that he was observing a fellow practitioner of the art, albeit an unusually young and talented one. Indeed, Anko Mitarashi was a ninja, as evidenced by the forehead protector she held loosely at her side, dangling from one hand. The metal of the headband was inscribed with the leaf symbol of Konohagakure, an insignia that was fast becoming legendary in this time of war and conflict.
Konoha, mused Anko. Is this really where I belong?
She looked at the other children milling around the building. They were talking excitedly, sharing stories, laughing. They seemed so . . . carefree, as if they were truly kids, not deadly tools created to take life. To Anko, the meaning of this day was clear. The strongest of them would receive additional training, honing their skills until, like kunai, they held a razor-sharp edge. Then all of them, strong and weak alike, would be turned loose, set upon their enemies like the weapons they were. They would live and fight and die, most without ever knowing what it was like to live a normal life. Not that Anko really minded. The idea of fighting and killing didn’t bother her. It wasn’t as if she had ever known anything else, nor did she desire a different destiny. Indeed, even if she was given a choice, what would she do? Get married, then settle down and become a mother, like some of her classmates fantasized? What a joke . . . not that any normal men would ever marry girls who felt more comfortable with a kunai than a kitchen knife anyway.
No, if anything, dying was the part of the job that bugged Anko. She wasn’t afraid of death, but she didn’t see why she had to die for Konoha. After all, what had the village ever given her that she should be obligated to give up her life to protect it? She was an orphan, and no one had ever bothered to spend more time on her than was required to keep her alive and moderately healthy. Times were hard, and there were few who had the resources or patience to deal with the needs and wants of a child. She had quickly learned to fend for herself, since failing to obtain her own food and shelter usually meant that she spent the night hungry and cold.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill whistle. All of the children turned to regard Hideki Gekko, the unassuming young man who had been their teacher for years. He, like many others in the village, chose not to wear his forehead protector around his head, but instead had tied it around the bicep of his left arm. Upon receiving everyone’s full attention, he addressed them in a quiet voice.
“First, let me congratulate all of you on passing your final exam and graduating from the Academy . . .”
There was a chorus of cheers from the excited students. Hideki waited patiently for the cheers to die down before continuing. “As you are no doubt aware, we live in a time of great peril. The existence of Konohagakure is threatened by the other hidden villages with which we are at war.”
The students sobered. Many of those gathered had lost relatives or friends to the seemingly endless wars which raged between the Great Nations and their respective hidden villages. “Many of you were placed on the path of the ninja before you had the chance to decide your course for yourself. Therefore, I ask you now: Do you wish to continue upon this route?” He looked around with piercing eyes. “Let me make this clear—many of you will die before having the opportunity to actually live your lives. There is little honor in this profession, and less reward . . . if anyone wants to quit now, no one will look down on you. This is your last chance to choose another course; after today, you are shinobi forever.”
“That’s enough, Hideki-sensei,” said a voice from the back of the crowd. “There’s no other path for us. Konoha is . . . our home!”
Shouts of agreement echoed from the other children. “That’s right . . . for our home!”
“I’ll show the Iwagakure ninja a thing or two!”
“I’m going to be the strongest in Konoha!”
How stupid, thought Anko. I’ll fight because I want to get stronger, not because I owe this village anything.
“If that’s how they feel,” murmured a soft voice from behind Hideki, “I believe they are ours now.”
A group of ninja had materialized behind the teacher and strode forward, their eyes sizing up the students. From their appearances, Anko surmised that they were Jounin-level ninja; all of them had that calm aura of confidence that originates from being one of the elite. The one who had spoken was a brown-haired man with haunted features.
“Already . . . ? I thought you might give me a bit more time . . .” Hideki’s eyes were full.
“You’ve had them for five years,” the brown-haired Jounin reminded him gently. “Let them go, Hideki-san.”
Weeping openly now, Hideki nodded, then turned back to the assembled children. “From this day forward, you are all official ninja of Konoha. Do your best!”
One of the men lead the teary-eyed teacher away as the speaker turned his attention to the new ninja in front of him. “For a long time,” he began, “it has been the practice of Konoha to apprentice our Genin to Jounin teachers. However, since many of our Jounin are on the front lines, we have do not have the manpower to personally train every one of you.” He paused momentarily, letting the words sink in. “Therefore, only the most outstanding Genin will have the opportunity to become apprentices.”
A disappointed groan arose from the assembly, although they had all expected this.
“We will now begin the selection. Those who are not chosen will have another opportunity next year.”
Anko watched as, one by one, the best students of the class were singled out and chosen. They left the Academy grounds, closely following their new mentors. She sighed; it wasn’t as if anyone was going to choose her, not when there were so many superior ninja from established bloodlines to pick from. She would just have to train and get stronger on her own.
A sudden commotion distracted her from her thoughts. She looked in the direction of the noise to see an extremely pale man standing in the middle of the crowd. His hair was long and jet black, a startling contrast to his white skin. Narrow golden eyes moved lazily over the crowd as a haughty smile formed on his lips. Although he wore only a simple white robe, he exuded confidence bordering on arrogance. The men and women crowded around him, all asking questions at the same time.
They're acting just like children themselves, thought Anko disgustedly.
“Orochimaru-sama! When did you return?”
“Just now. I heard that the apprentice ceremony was being held, so I decided to stop by.”
Another voice spoke excitedly. “Are you finally taking an apprentice? You should choose a Jounin, not a mere child!”
“Who knows? Sensei has been telling me to choose someone, but I don’t see the point unless . . .”
He trailed off, his gaze suddenly flashing in her direction. Anko’s eyes locked with his, the two staring at each other intently.
Is he looking at me? Anko wondered. It couldn’t be . . . why would I catch his attention?
Living in Konoha, one could hardly fail to recognize the name “Orochimaru”. As one of the village’s honored Sannin, his prowess and achievements were legendary. Nevertheless, she narrowed her eyes defiantly, returning his gaze without showing any sign of being intimidated. A wide smirk formed on his face, and he began walking in her direction.
“Orochimaru-sama? Where are you going?”
The man pointed at Anko with a long, white finger. “That child,” he asked without breaking his stride. “Who is she?”
The brown-haired man consulted his notes hastily. “Anko Mitarashi. An orphan, nine years old. Quite the talented Genin, it would seem, but she’s an outcast and she doesn't have any family history . . .” He turned back to the pale-skinned man, speaking earnestly. “Orochimaru-sama, if you truly desire to have a child as your apprentice, there are much more attractive candidates. Over there, we have—”
Orochimaru raised a hand to forestall his words. “It’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Certainly, if it’s you, but . . .”
Ignoring the rest of the man’s speech, the raven-haired ninja walked the rest of the way towards Anko, his sandals making no sound as they touched the flagstones. He stopped in front of the young kunoichi, looking down at her with a smile.
“Greetings, child,” he addressed her quietly. “My name is Orochimaru. I am very interested in you, Anko Mitarashi.”
Anko looked at the ground, unsure of how to act. It was one thing to meet his gaze from a distance, but quite another to do so in his immediate presence, especially when he was speaking directly to her.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he chided mildly. Reaching out, he grasped her chin in his hand, turning her head back towards him so that she was looking him in the eyes. His stare was hypnotic, the golden orbs grabbing her attention so that she had trouble looking away. Idly, he stroked her jaw line with his fingers, letting the tips of the digits slowly caress her cheek. The girl stood as still as a statue as his hand roamed over her face. There was a seductive power in those eyes, something that made her want to give herself wholly to this man, to obey his every command. Quivering with the effort, she fought against the urge to submit. Desperately, she opened her mouth and bit down hard on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and the crowd around them gasped in surprise. For her part, Anko trembled in fear. Why had she done something so stupid? This man could kill her and no one would say a word against him.
Orochimaru withdrew his hand, chuckling softly. “Delightful child,” he murmured, continuing to smile down at her. The white-robed ninja turned to face the people who had gathered around the pair. Gesturing to Anko, he spoke in a voice that carried over the crowd.
“My apprentice,” he said simply. “Anko Mitarashi.”
Almost immediately, there was a storm of yelling, protests, and objections. The sound increased in volume as everyone raised their voices, trying to be heard over the clamor.
“My, this has gotten noisy,” muttered the Sannin. Reaching out with one hand, he grasped Anko’s shoulder firmly. Her fear forgotten, the nine-year-old watched in wonder as his other hand formed seals at an incredible pace.
One-handed seals? What kind of jutsu . . . ? Anko had little time to think as the scene in front of her disappeared, to be replaced by a sparsely-furnished room. Apart from a small, wooden table and a chair, the area was bare and neat, as if uninhabited. Finally, Anko recovered her wits enough to speak.
“Where—?”
“My apartment,” replied a voice from behind her. “Although I don’t spend much time here.”
Anko whirled to face the sound, finding herself staring up at the man who had just declared her to be his apprentice just moments ago.
“Why did you bring me here?” she managed to ask.
He shrugged as if it were obvious. “I was told you were an orphan, so I assumed you didn’t have anywhere else to stay. It would be bad for my reputation if people saw my student living on the street.”
Anko shook her head in confusion. Everything was happening too fast—just minutes ago she had been without prospects, and now she was apprenticed to an illustrious ninja who was offering her his home? Before she could become overwhelmed in the whirlwind of events, his eyes met hers once more, catching them in an arresting stare.
“I want you as my apprentice, Anko.”
Anko looked at him, unable to speak. It was as if he had read the secret desires of her heart and offered her what she had most wished for. Acceptance . . . someone who would willingly acknowledge her presence, someone who needed her, wanted her to stay.
“I . . . I don’t . . . ” Anko stammered. “Why me?” she asked at last.
“Well, for one thing, it’ll really annoy those two old fools on the Council. Another Sannin choosing an apprentice, and not one of their handpicked Jounins. Unless they can coerce Tsunade into taking someone on, they’re out of luck.” He chuckled lightly. “But the real reason is . . . you have the same eyes as me.”
“Eyes . . . ?”
“Eyes that know the pain of loneliness . . . of being unneeded.”
Anko started in surprise. He was a famous ninja that everyone looked up to . . . how could he know? She had thought that loneliness belonged only to her, and it was jarring to hear him describe her feelings as if he could read her soul.
“Well, my reasons don’t really matter,” he continued in a lighter tone of voice. “I want you to become my apprentice. Will you remain with me?”
Any chance of refusal had vanished long ago. “Yes,” she answered simply.
“Good. Your training begins tomorrow.”

A/N: Please leave a review! All comments, critiques, flames, etc. are welcomed. See you next chapter!
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Pupil of the Serpent