A/N

Before Orochimaru left the village.

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Pink, White and Green

It was a peaceful spring day. Sakura was in bloom much to the awe of ninjas and tourists alike. The breeze was cool and spicy, leaving fragrant traces of peace and quiet throughout the air. Pink petals floated serenely, capturing the essence of spring and the idea of tranquillity.

"Orochimaru-sensei!"

The shrill voice pierced through his concentration and he winced, upsetting his work.

Damn.

All his labour ruined, he thought miserably as he looked upon what remained of his great and would-have-been life-changing project for the benefit of all of Konoha.

Really, did nobody respect card pyramids nowadays? Playing cards lay scattered across the room. He had just reached the twentieth layer too.

"Anko," he said irritated. "That was my fourteenth pyramid this week."

Irritation was all he could summon. Normally if someone else had wrecked his work, he would go to a full blown rage. However, it was Anko.

It wasn't that she was in his favour. It was just that anger had so little effect against her thick skull and dull-witted actions. Stupid girl. He was so used to her running and screaming into a room he couldn't even be bothered to be more than a little irritated.

"Ah," Anko looked around quickly, the round chubby childish face of a twelve year old wide with curiosity. "Was this the important project the Hokage asked you to work on? The one you said you would be busy with for the next century, three decades, six years, nine months, five days, four hours, two minutes and thirty seconds, so I have to stop coming in to see you while you were busy with it?"

She picked up a card.

"Yes, now go away."

"I've never seen such odd seals before!"

"That's the king of spades, now go away."

"Why is he stabbing his head?"

"Go away Anko, you're bothering me."

"Sensei…" she whined piteously.

Don't look at her face, Orochimaru told himself. She's probably pulling one of those disgustingly cute smiles and puppy dog eyes. You don't want to look at her face because it disgusts you.

Thoughts aren't always the truth. Orochimaru also had a way with language that twisted it into a potpourri of double speak and false meanings. After all, some things can never be thought and have to be sunken deep into the hidden recesses of the sub-conscious.

If one would have deciphered his complicated thought codes, they would have ended up something like this: Don't look at her face; you know your student is just too cute! Too cute! Can't say "No" to something so adorable, otherwise, what kind of monster are you?

Concentrating on building his card pyramid to its former glory, he said in a monotone, "What is it Anko?"

Even though he couldn't see her face, he felt the entire blasted room suddenly brighten up from what was probably a dazzling smile from his student's lips.

It disgusts you, he reminded himself. Disgusts you!

The invisible translator got: Too cute! Too cute! Beware the power of her adorable chubby face! Eek, I just have to squeeze her cheeks!

The invisible sunbeams went away as Anko remembered why she came running into her sensei's office in such a state. She sniffled a bit.

The snake sannin heard the soft plops of tears drip onto the concrete floor. The light grey of the ground would be gaining darker dots of grey.

He knew Anko well. She was always ridiculously cheerful. Something really was terribly wrong…

"What's wrong, Anko?"

"A bunch of boys were making fun of me."

Oh God, was it a girly problem?

He re-evaluated his opinion of Anko and what he knew of her. Anko had two moods in total, one was happy and the other one sad. She never remained neutral for long. She was like a wildly swinging see-saw, forever out of control.

Hurriedly, Orochimaru, genius among geniuses, ran through what he remembered of his teenage years and girls. He was pretty sure he never made any girls cry. But that was mainly because unlike Jiraiya, he was very good at hot spring peeking.

You aren't a pervert if nobody catches you in the act.

A bit desperately now, for Anko was truly sobbing, her disgusting/adorable head resting on his knees, and her tears making damp splotches on his pants, he tried to think of some generic comforting thing to say. All boys are gross? Don't worry, boys have cooties, don't listen to them? You're so cute Anko, they're just jealous?

He glanced at her face. Big mistake.

Anko was adorable. She had chubby cheeks and wide beseeching eyes. The blush that crossed the bridge of her nose that came when she cried had an endearing pink tint. Her watering eyes made her look like a sad puppy which is the cutest thing in the world and if you don't think so, you are a complete monster.

Orochimaru was not a complete monster.

D-disgusting, his inner voice croaked out a losing battle.

"Uh," he said, his long thin fingers trying to pry her little hands' tight grip from his pants. "What did they do?"

Anko glared up at him, lifting her head up from his lap. The glare wasn't one of anger but the sort of heroic passion only twelve year old kids seemed to be able to summon up. For all the world knew, Anko seemed to be a tragic heroine, wronged by the monster of humanity. Anko's glare was complimented by tears trickling down the side of her eyes; her mouth formed an adorable pout.

"T-they," she hiccupped and did that gulping thing people do when they've just had a long emotionally draining cry. "T-t-they c-called me Dango Anko!"

Dango Anko. That name did make some sense as her name, Mitarashi Anko. Both her first and last names were toppings commonly used in making dango. It didn't help either that half the time she was always seen munching on her favourite snacks: dango. Oh and the time when she forgot to bring her kunai for training and made do (quite well actually) with dango sticks.

Oh, and it was the Sakura viewing season which made hanami dango a common sight in the streets.

But was she really upset about that?

As if reading his thoughts, she added, "And… and! They also called me Mitarashi Dango!"

And she glared at him, through tear streaked (adorable!) eyes as if daring him to say that being called "Mitarashi Dango" was really not such a big deal.

Orochimaru really couldn't compliment the boys on their unique and creative insults, just swapping around her first and last names for "dango".

Anko started crying again, her hands bunching into fists to wipe her eyes. Something in Orochimaru's heart just twisted.

Oh well, he was her sensei, he told himself. It is my duty to look out for her wellbeing.

The invisible translator got a different message from what seemed to be a conservative and rational thought:

Oh God, my pupil is too cute! Too cute! Too cute for this harsh cruel world! She's so sensitive and kind… and too cute! Must. Save Her. Or the world will tear her apart! How dare those boys call her Mitarashi Dango! They… Deserve… Punishment!

"Well Anko, you can't take everything everyone says seriously. That's life."

There, that was a mature and adult thing for him to say.

Of course that sort of reasoning doesn't work on children because they always work it against you. Damn brats. And Anko was the brattiest of them all.

"So s-sensei?" she choked out.

"Yes, Anko?"

"Does that mean I d-don't have to take t-things you say s-seriously? L-like the t-time you asked me to g-get new clothes b-because of m-my bodily changes?"

Damn brats. Anko was an orphan and she just had to remind him of The Talk. Everyone expected him to act like some surrogate father. But really, The Talk nearly killed him. And it nearly killed Anko too by the looks of her tomato red face afterwards.

"Except me Anko, your sensei is special."

"Like how Jiraiya-sensei is s-special?"

How could she even go around being such a brat while she was clearly emotionally traumatized and crying?

"No," he said firmly with a warning edge in his tone.

"Oh, okay," she gave one last sniff. Then she surprised him by suddenly brightening up and saying rather loudly. "I know sensei! You can go and beat up those boys for me!"

He supposed he should be surprised at his dear student asking him to bodily harm some genins who she could, she should, be able to handle herself, but he had already known her for so long. His raised eyebrow spoke volumes to Anko who continued fiercely.

"They were jerks!"

At his stare that pretty much said: That isn't a valid reason for beating someone up, Anko became creative.

"Look, I'll pay you! Think of it as a D-rank mission to beat up some genins. You won't get in trouble then right?" Anko beamed. "I can go right now to register the mission with the Hokage!"

She pulled out a purse in the shape of a little piggy and began to dig around for some change.

Orochimaru decided to use reason again as his weapon against the skewed logic of a twelve year old girl.

"Listen Anko, do you have any idea how much it costs to hire one of the great sannins for a mission?" he said. He also noticed her futile efforts at trying to find spare change. "And do you even have anything to offer?"

Anko looked thoughtful, her head bent down and her teeth silently nibbling at her thumb. Then, she looked back at him solemnly and spread her arms.

A hug.

I suppose as an orphan she is starved of attention, his inner voice thought.

The translator got: OMG! ADORABLE! KA-WAI-IIII! Quick, quick! Hug the cute child! Too cute! Too cute! Beat up the dirty stinky boys for her as well!

Orochimaru kneeled down to her level and gingerly patted her spiky head.

"How about," he said graciously. "I take you out for dango instead."

Anko ran out of the door shouting with glee, dragging her much abused sensei by the hand. All his ninja powers useless against the enthusiasm of a young energetic girl as he followed her helplessly, unable to resist.

Thankfully, Orochimaru had the insight to limit her to five dangos. One packet contained five dangos and they were much cheaper to buy than individual ones. At least he won't be going bankrupt today.

They strolled down the Sakura bordered path. The sunlight was gay and happy, sunbeams glittering across Anko's brown eyes.

Stroll was perhaps too passive a word though. Orochimaru strolled, absent-mindedly clinging on to Anko. Anko, tried to rush ahead unsuccessfully, feet skidding across the hard ground, held back by her teacher's strong grip on the back of her shirt.

But it was a lovely day. The air was fresh and exciting. Filled with the fragrance of the pink blossoms and the smells of cooking. The murmuring of voices could be heard as people enjoyed themselves out in the cool spring air.

They reached a dango stall, it's brightly painted exterior and charm was bright and inviting.

On display was the hanami dango, dango that was pink white and green. The stall also had the mitarashi dango, plain white dango covered in sticky sweet sauce.

"There's hanami dango and mitarashi dango," the storekeeper said, gesturing at the food.

A thoughtful expression crossed Anko's face. Perhaps her choice would foreshadow other choices to come, from as simple as choosing which dango to consume, maybe Anko would indirectly decide her future, who she was to be. Would she continue to be same old Mitarashi Anko? Accepting her identity and the nicknames that came with it? Or would she choose hanami dango, the traditional Sakura viewing food, and decide on a life of change and opportunities yet somehow abandoning her identity in the process?

"Anko?" he said as he looked at the fierce concentration upon her face. He wished she had that same concentration during training rather than her look of extreme boredom, paired with playful antics.

She graced both him and the seller with a scornful look, almost ludicrous upon her childish round face. One of her eyebrows was raised with what could only be described as disdain.

"I hate indecisive people," she said. "I'll take both."

She looked sideways at her teacher craftily. "You did say five sticks but because I want both types that makes ten."

Her logic left much to be desired, but for the first time ever, he didn't mention it.

Orochimaru was glad he was one of the most skilled shinobi in the village, allowed to undertake more dangerous missions with better pay. Because at this rate, this little brat would bleed him dry.

They sat together out in the sun, his unnaturally pale skin setting him off from others at the same time Anko's closeness to him made the other genins nervous and antagonistic towards her.

Sometimes when she was looking the other way, he snagged another piece of dango to chew. She always caught him. Anko kept diligent count on her food. But somehow, she didn't seem to mind his stealing of her food.

She liked it best, out here in the sun with her sensei.

Maybe dango didn't represent some life changing philosophy.

Dango was just dango after all.

And it was good to eat.

X.X.X

A/N

And then Orochimaru turned evil.

):

Hope you enjoyed it! I've always thought young Anko was quite cute…

Please review! It doesn't matter if the review is just one word long, I'd love it anyway.

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