A/N: Wrote this in an afternoon on a whim... I want to write something longer for Naruto but I guess I should practice short works a bit more first to get the hang of things... :P Nyeh. Enjoy if you can.
Difference
Rin, Rin, Suzuki Rin... if she jogged her memory a bit, Anko could come up with only one instance in her life where she actually spoke with the other girl. It was a haze at first, but when she thought of the backstory, the image became more sharp, like putting on a pair of reading glasses. She recalled sitting on a bench by the outskirts of the training grounds, waiting for Orochi-sensei to show (not that he was late – he never was, but Anko was so enthusiastic about her training, she tended to arrive much earlier than necessary). Normally revved up even early in the morning, eager to begin the day's lessons, today it was already seven-thirty and she was still feeling sluggish. Little sleep, no breakfast, worry about things, took its toll. She slouched in her seat and wearily watched the trees swaying gently, for once appreciating a quiet moment. It would be another half hour before her sensei appeared.
In the calm morning air, Anko was unaware of the other girl until she was already sitting down at another bench, only two to the left of her own. She perked up considerably as she stared at her, gathering information, deciding if this person would be any fun to talk to, or at least at. The girl looked only a couple years older than Anko, but something about her seemed yet eons older. Perhaps it was her eyes, but Anko could only look at them for so long before moving on. She had straight auburn hair that framed her face gently. A hitae-ate graced her forehead, the classic place most ninjas placed them. Her dress was simple and dark. The most distinguishing trait she had was a purple rectangle painted on each cheek.
The girl scratched at the dirt idly with one sandaled foot as she seemed to look ahead in a dreamlike daze. Anko was just calculating something provocative to yell out, she held her tongue, watching the girl suddenly crane her neck to watch something by the base of a nearby maple tree. She snapped her gaze to the tree's bulging roots, looking for whatever was so interesting. She thought perhaps the girl was just some schizo seeing things, but as she squinted, she could see a snake, writhing slowly over a root, then striking quickly at something small and presumably furry. The telltale bulge in the snake's throat showed he had gotten his prey. The girl's eyes were blank, her mouth neither smiling nor frowning. Anko thought amusedly to herself if she was sad that the dumb mouse had died. She decided not to wonder and made herself known.
"Did you just see that?" she shouted, grinning. "Swallowed him whole on the first try! Alright!" She laughed, pleased with herself and with the snake's ruthlessness, which she was sure must bother the girl.
The girl looked over at Anko and smiled faintly, surely just trying to be polite. "Sure," she said, speaking loudly but not bringing herself to a yell. "I guess he deserved it, huh?"
"The lil critter? Damn straight he did," Anko replied. "Walking around a snake's den like there was no danger... he was a dumb little shit!"
"I meant the snake," the other girl clarified. "He was hunting and he was skillful enough – he deserved the meal. I can't say whether anything deserves to die though. Even a mouse. But it's just how life is." Her smile melted back into neutrality, and she looked away from Anko, transfixed again on the now slow-moving reptile.
Anko blinked, not sure what to say. She slid off the bench, walked herself over to the girl, and invited herself to sit down next to her. "I guess you have a point." Inwardly, she didn't quite understand. She stared at the snake, enjoying the closer view, savoring his snakey-bliss. The lump in his throat moved ever so slowly down his body, but it was not wriggling of its own accord. Definitely dead; definitely digesting; definitely mesmerizing and pretty cool. "I'm Mitarashi Anko," she introduced proudly, looking back up at the girl. "I'm training with Orochimaru-sama, you know – he's going to teach me to summon snakes, too, and – "
"That's nice," the girl interjected, the soft smile returning to her face. She looked Anko in the eye now. "I think I've heard of you before. You started training with Orochimaru just a few months ago, right? It must be exciting, training with such a great ninja. Good luck with your summoning, too. My name is Suzuki Rin."
"Never heard of you," Anko said swiftly, noting gleefully to herself that she was more well-known already than this older kid. "And thanks."
"I didn't expect you to," Rin sighed. She looked away, up at the sky and the trees that painted their jagged shapes across the clouds. "I guess I'm kind of a nobody, anyway."
"You don't have to be," Anko offered, riffing a list of famous ninja in her head as she spoke. "Make a name for yourself, like Orochimaru-sama! Or the Third, or that scary-ass puppet guy from the Sand... you know, there's a kid I heard of your age who's already pretty awesome, I hear! His name's, like, Hatake-something... Kakashi! That's it."
"Kakashi," she said softly. "I know. He is pretty great, huh?" She fell silent.
Anko was ready to rattle off a story of one of her sensei's great accomplishments, an epic one involving an entire countryside set aflame, and Manda, and the biggest battle in the history of the Leaf, when a hissing sort of voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Anko," Orochimaru beckoned, stopping in his tracks about thirty feet away. "Come along. We have important matters to take care of today." He noted Rin sitting next to his student. "You can make friends – " the words dripped with distaste and disapproval " – on your own time." His expression was cold and unmoving. He planted one open hand on his hip impatiently, waiting for Anko to run back to him like a loyal pup, in the manner she always did.
"Yes sir, Orochi-sensei!" she barked to him. Jumping out of her seat, she hustled in the thin man's direction, looking over her shoulder only to call back, "Seeya!"
She had forgotten all about her probably sole encounter with Rin. Not that it was memorable to begin with. Rin had never struck her as particularly memorable, but apparently the girl had had an appeal she certainly overlooked, as Kakashi sure remembered her. Now eighteen, and Kakashi recently twenty, Anko wished she'd gotten to know Rin and taken lessons from her or something - "How to Charm a Hatake 101", the course could be called.
Because as she lays next to the boy – man, really, she supposes – she can tell his heart just isn't in it. It never really has been. She can be as forward and passionate and open as she knows how to be, which is quite a lot, and she still never seems to pry him open any more. The phrase "to come out of one's shell" doesn't quite come to mind, but when she thinks on it, it seems appropriate enough. A turtle, she learned once, can never actually come out of its shell, because in reality its shell is a part of its skeleton, and if you were to separate the two, you would essentially just rip off the poor thing's spine and kill it. But even such morbid knowledge doesn't stop the desire or curiosity.
She loves to watch him in action, whether he's killing someone or doing laundry or fucking her in his bed. She pays attention to the little details of everything and enjoys being a spectator as much as an actress on the stage or a player on the field. The tensing of a muscle, the smirk tugging at the corner of one's mouth, the way eyes can talk more than enough for the rest of the face or the tongue. For all the volume of how she clings to him and shoves herself at him and drags him into all the things they do together, at the end of the day, he still doesn't think it's right; he still misses her, and Anko wonders what she's doing wrong – what such a quiet, bland, sweet, understanding person had to offer that she doesn't cover tenfold.