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 to him. She made the seals dog, dragon, then ram causing her hands to light up again, but this time, she whipped the lighting at him from the long distance that they were away. Another duplicate of his form was defeated. This practice went on until nightfall, when Jiraiya turned to her suddenly.
"I think it is time we return to Konoha for you to continue on, Sachirin." He said with a smile. "You've come as far as you can with my training for now. You are skilled in basic ninjutsu as well as your own tactics. I am sure you'll grow up to be a beauty too, at that."
"But Sensei." Sachi said in her bell toned voice, clasping her hands together. "I want to be stronger."
"I am sure you will be, in time. I'll be sure to tell Tsunade-sama of your success too." Jiraiya continued on. Their venture was silent; all the while Sachi could not help but feel saddened. "You must follow your own Shinobi path."