Prelude to Sachirin Komatsu
A young girl, not more than eight years of age, stood in front of her trainer in a battle stance. Her little feet shoulder length apart, her frail looking form perfectly balanced. She wore only a tank top, baggy pants, and a knitted net drape all in shades of black. Her long, bright orange hair with blood red streaks lay around her body, extending past her hips, and intensified her pale look. Her grayish hazel eyes stared at her trainer intently. A man standing very tall, with wolfish looking white hair tied in a pony tail.
"Go." Jiraiya told his little student. She made the hand signs for ox, ram, and then hare. Her hands lit up in lightning as bright as if it had just come out of the sky itself. The girl ran at him with everything she had in her legs to carry her to strike at him up close, causing him to disappear being replaced by a log. He appeared behind her with a smile on his face.
"Good!" He praised. "Go." He commanded again as she spun around