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Chapter 06 - Anko Mitarashi
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 16:10:15 +0000 UTC“Time to pay for your evil deeds.” The intruder with kunai to my throat said and my muscles… relaxed.
Her voice was playful, teasing, but low.
I sighed, already knowing who it was. “Stop messing around.” My voice was flat, unimpressed. “Anko.“ The last thing I needed after a long day was one of her pranks.
The perpetrator chuckled, low and throaty, and leaned in close. I could feel the heat of her breath against my ear. “What if I don’t?”
Anko Mitarashi wasn’t Anbu. But that meant nothing.
The Hokage wouldn’t need masks and protocol if he wanted revenge. But who was to say he didn’t want his revenge to have some unique taste to it? Sending a friend to kill a friend? Some would argue it was the shinobi way.
Typical for a shinobi yet… not for the Hokage.
And this….
The kunai pressed a little harder, just enough to be felt but not enough to hurt.
Typical of Anko.
I nearly scoffed, of course. She thought this kind of thing was sexy. I took a step forward, the blade gliding off my skin as I moved, ignoring her childish antics.
“Hey, wait, wait!” she said quickly, pulling the knife away. “Why so seriously, Ei-chan. Just having some fun…”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was pouting, her light brown, pupil-less eyes narrowing slightly. Her tan overcoat hung loosely around her shoulders, the purple lining catching the faint light. Beneath it, the mesh of her outfit clung to her body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The shorter woman’s dark orange mini-skirt swayed as she shifted her weight, and her violet hair, tied up in its usual spiky ponytail, seemed to bounce with her movements.
“You always do,” I muttered, brushing past her, turning on the lights, and heading to the kitchen. She had no idea how her prank nearly…. I’d not have killed her.
I placed the bottle of sake on the table with a dull thud.
“When did you get back?” I asked over my shoulder, trying to sound casual. She went on a mission for two months.
She followed me. “Just a couple of hours ago,” her voice lighter now, almost sing-song. She plopped down onto one of the chairs, crossing her legs. Her overcoat shifted, revealing more of the mesh beneath and pale skin. “So, why are you acting so cold? It’s not like you. Not that I’m complaining…” Her lips curled into a sly smile. “You’re so very hot when you’re in that mood.”
I ignored her comment, grabbing two cups from the cupboard. Sitting across from her, I poured the sake into both cups.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“Well…” She picked up her cup, swirling the liquid inside before taking a sip. “There was a bit of trouble, but it’s all good now.”
Her tone shifted, just for a moment. I caught it. She didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t push.
“So, what about you?” she asked, her gaze sharp, probing.
“What about me?”
She raised an eyebrow. That look. The one that said she wasn’t buying any of my deflections. “You’re acting strange today. Did something happen?”
“Nothing.”
She smirked, taking another sip of her sake. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you, weirdo, drink.” She set her cup down, leaning forward slightly. Her pendant—a small, snake fang—caught the light. “You’re also a better liar than that.”
I smiled bitterly. “Perhaps because I didn’t have my dose of Anko-chan in a while.” My tone was playful, an obvious attempt to shift the conversation.
Her grin widened. She got up from her chair and, in one smooth motion, straddled my lap. Her warm thighs pressed against mine, the mesh of her outfit brushing against my hands as she settled herself. The faint scent of dango clung to her skin, mixed with something sharp and wild— uniquely Anko.
“Oh, really?” she purred.
She was close now, her face inches from mine. Her smile was wicked, her light brown eyes gleaming with mischief. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things,“ I placed a hand on her thigh, just below the hem of her mini-skirt, my fingers brushing against the mesh and exposed skin. “Things I’m going to do to you.”
Her grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. “And what is it that you plan to do?” she whispered, her voice dripping with anticipation.
Before I could answer, her hand shot up to grab my chin, her grip firm but not painful. She tilted my head up, her light brown, pupil-less eyes bore into mine. Her expression shifted—playfulness giving way to suspicion. She leaned in, her nose brushing against my neck.
“What is this smell…?” Her brow furrowed as she inhaled deeply. “Who was it?”
I stiffened, my jaw tightening against the pressure of her fingers. Damn it. Of course she would…..
“Nobody,” I said, my voice steady and a bit more guarded than I wanted it.
Her eyes narrowed, her grip on my chin tightening ever so slightly. She held my gaze for a moment longer before scoffing and releasing me.
Anko slid off my lap in one smooth, deliberate motion, her movements sharp, almost offended. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, pushing her overcoat open just enough to reveal the curve of her mesh-covered torso. She stood a few feet away now, glaring down at me.
“You know, you’re giving me a whole lot of nothing today, and it’s annoying……” Her voice was clipped, her usual playful tone replaced with a sharp edge.
“Being mysterious,“ I tried to play it off. “I thought you liked that about me.”
“Yeah, but you’re acting different.” She crossed her arms, her overcoat shifting again, and gave me a pointed look. “What is it that you’re hiding, huh?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Her persistence was grating, though I couldn’t help but admire how her overcoat barely hid her curves. My thoughts wandered briefly. Come to think of it, I think she has bigger tits than Kushina.
She leaned in again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Tell me…” Her tongue flicked out, serpentine and wet, tracing the curve of my ear.
I shivered. “Just how far would you go to get your answer.” Energy returning to my limbs. It can’t be helped, this was my weakness.
She had just returned from a mission. I shouldn’t dump my bad mood onto her — it wouldn’t be fair. The exhaustion was there, barely hidden beneath her usual bravado. I could see it in the faint shadows under her eyes, the slight tension in her shoulders, even as she pretended to be carefree and teasing.
Anko always carried herself like she had the world on a leash, but I knew better. Missions could take their toll, no matter how tough she acted. Still, here she was, trying to lift my mood in her own chaotic, Anko way.
Her hand shot out, grabbing my chin again and forcing me to look at her. “As far as I have to…”
I smirked. “I miss your Serpent Whirlpool technique.”
Her eyes lit up, and her smile returned, full of mischief. “I can do that right now…”
Without hesitation, the shorter woman spun my chair around and dropped to her knees, her overcoat falling open to reveal the full length of her mesh-clad body.
Anko's hand darted down, grabbing my belt with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her lips curled into a wicked smirk, and she tugged at it with a flourish, the leather slipping free from the loops in one smooth motion.
“One Anko’s special Serpent Whirlpool incoming,” she purred, her voice low and dripping with anticipation.
The belt hit the floor with a soft thud, and her eyes flickered down. Her smirk widened into something more playful—yet undeniably predatory. She tilted her head slightly, her spiky ponytail catching the light, and arched one brow.
For a split second, her eyes narrowed upon noticing the untreated wound on my thigh, but acted as if she hadn’t.
“Well, well… someone's eager.” Her voice was laced with amusement, her gaze lingering on my already hard member now exposed. Her tone was casual, like she was greeting an old friend, but the scary heat in her eyes betrayed her excitement.
"You really did miss me, didn’t you?" Her tongue flicked out, longer than it should be, more sensual, tracing her lips with a slow, deliberate swipe. Her expression was a perfect mix of teasing and hunger — predatory, knowing.
"I missed you too," she purred, her voice curling into a soft, contained hiss. Her fingers flexed, as if resisting the urge to coil around me like a constrictor. Then, tilting her head, she dragged her gaze back up, light brown eyes glinting with something sharp. "Both of you."
We held each other gazes for a long moment. She didn’t blink — of course she didn’t. Her pupils narrowed slightly, slitted like a predator sizing up its prey.
A slow smirk curled my lips. "Is that so, what are you waiting for then?" My voice was low, steady, pushing her. Daring her. "Here’s your opportunity to show it."
I met Anko during one of the darker periods in both our lives. Back then, I was just another face in the crowd — a nobody. An orphan with no clan name to back me up, no legacy to carry on. The Hokage had raised the bar for graduation and with it mission qualifications.
For shinobi like me, that meant being benched in the academy till sixteen — unacceptable for for one with knowledge of a looming war — unless someone senior, chunin or above, was willing to supervise.
Trouble was, those elite shinobi didn’t want anything to do with a no-name kid like me. The clan-less teams weren’t about to waste their time on someone without connections. I was stuck, restless and itching to improve, but with nowhere to go.
Then there was Anko. Things were different in this version of Konoha—no demon fox attack, no smoldering ruins, no cursed mark burned into her skin. But Orochimaru? He hadn't escaped unscathed. His experiments weren’t some hidden shame swept under the rug. When everything came to light, Minato, the Hokage, had somehow managed to forgive him.
He wasn’t exiled or hunted down; he was allowed to stay. His deeds were known to the highest leaders of the village, and they turned a blind eye in the name of progress.
That didn’t make it any less of a betrayal to Anko. He might not have given her the cursed mark in this timeline, but the weight of his actions still crushed her. She was his apprentice, his protégé, and for all her strength, she couldn’t reconcile the man she idolized with the monster he turned out to be.
She buried herself in missions to escape it all, throwing herself into one after another just to avoid staying in the village. When I first saw her, she had this energy about her—sharp, reckless, and untouchable. But there was something else, too. A darkness she carried like a shadow, just behind her cocky smirk and playful quips. She took on the missions no one else wanted, the ones that skirted the line between dangerous and suicidal. And somehow, I ended up on one of those missions with her.
I don’t know why she agreed to take me along. Maybe she didn’t care, or maybe she was too tired to argue when they saddled her with an inexperienced kid who had nothing to lose. Whatever the reason, that was the start of it.
The missions were brutal. Long nights, cold camps, the constant buzz of adrenaline that came with knowing we might not make it back. And in those moments, when the fight was over and the silence settled in, we found different ways to burn off the tension.
It wasn’t romance. It wasn’t love. It was need — raw, unspoken, and mutual. At first it was a way to forget, if only for a little while. Anko never wanted to talk about it after. She never lingered, never clung. She treated it like another mission — get in, get out, move on.
And of course that was the type of sex I dislike the most. So I made sure she wouldn’t forget. I made her feel. Until the tension in her shoulders eased, until the shadows in her eyes weren’t quite so dark.
Slowly, without realizing it, she started to smile more. Not the sharp, teasing smirks she threw at others, but something real, something unguarded. She laughed more, let herself enjoy the small things.
And maybe, just maybe, I was the reason why.
