Jiraiya trudged through the muddy slums of Gunkou, a squalid port town on the east coast of the Land of Water. A cold wet wind, heavy with the scent of salt blew in from the sea, down rutted streets lined with trash, doing little to wash away the stench. Today the Toad Sage looked like any other middle aged dock worker, wearing poorly patched clothes, and long gray hair, his face worn by years of hard work by the sea. It was the best kind of transformation, the kind that could be worn for days without effort, one that didn't change things too much and simply worked around his large frame and long hair.

Jiraiya didn't have to work at matching the grim expressions of the other men on the street, what he'd seen would put a scowl on the most cheerful man's face. The Land of Water was in chaos, seething with civil war, ethnic violence and barely constrained anarchy. 'How did this happen?' Jirayia wondered. 'The Mizukage, Yagura…well, he's always been brutal under that calm, diplomatic facade,' he thought, mulling over his few interactions with the man. 'Saurtobi sensei always said that "murderous currents run deep in Kiri, always waiting to pull the unsuspecting underneath the placid surface."'

But that brutality wasn't what bothered Jiraiya, 'Bloodthirsty Yagura may have been, but he'd always been rational, a keen planer, able to steer the ship of state through shoals and keep her off the rocks.' Jiraiya knew that he'd never meet that man again. 'That Yagura is already a fading memory, he seems to have completely snapped and is now intent on driving that ship against a cliff. Madness like this, sudden and overwhelming, that's not natural,' Jiraiya thought, 'not without warning.'

He was at a loss to explain it though, 'his control of the Three Tailed Turtle is legendary, and he earned his Kage title with more than raw power; if not the beast, then who or what could be responsible?' He shook his head in disgust, 'It doesn't matter, I can't do anything about it here. I have to get back to Konoha and tell the Hokage what I've seen.'

There was much to say, and none of it good. Just thinking of it made him glower, 'two rebel factions with armies in the field, fighting each other as much as the Mizukage, while the Land of Water burns as mobs whipped up by Yagura try to purge the nation of its so called Bloodline curse.' The situation couldn't get much worse in his opinion, 'this whole country is a Gods damned disaster, bound to suck us and Cloud into it and start another Shinobi World War.'

The dreary weather and overcast sky fit his mood to a T, though the snow falling in the alley to his right was a bit too white to match the dank grimness of the rest of the city. He lurched to a halt, 'Snow? It's not that cold!' he thought incredulously, 'And in just one alley?'

The Toad Sage leaned back, cracking his neck and rubbing it with his left hand as he surreptitiously checked the main road. It was lightly traveled, most men were already down on the docks, hard at work. Those few still in the street were in a hurry, and didn't look the sort to be overly curious of a man taking a turn into a side alley. Curiosity could be bad for one's health in a town like this, especially in times like these. Their eyes just slid over and away from each other, they didn't even see their own countrymen, let alone Jiraiya. They were nothing more than they looked, hard bitten working men, so Jiraiya walked into the alleyway like he had every right to be there.

Five handseals later and a subtle illusion settled over the mouth of the alley, anyone looking down it now would see the overcast gloom they saw everywhere else. He walked past a rusting dumpster and found a small boy huddled against it out of the wind. Uneven black hair hung just short of his shoulders, he was brown eyed and pale skinned like many from the mountains of the main island, he somehow managed to be cute despite the crippling aura of despair that surrounded him. 'Poor kid can't be more than six, maybe seven years old,' Jiraiya thought with sympathy. 'No parents for sure, not with him looking like that,' what with his soot stained face, ragged clothes and a thinness that was just beginning to go beyond slender into the realm of starvation. 'Lost to Yagura's madness and a century of simmering resentment against Kiri's bloodline clans', Jiraiya thought in disgust, as snowflakes thick and wet fell down, those that stuck to his skin giving him a fleeting sense of the boy's chakra. It felt pure.

Hyōton, the Ice Release bloodline of the Yuki Clan, Jiraiya had seen it in action in the Third Shinobi World War. It was a devastating close combat bloodline, but it had been rare. In fear of their power most of the other ninja clans of the Land of Water had warred against them before the foundation of Kiri. The boy must have the talent incredibly strongly to express it so at his age. 'I wonder if he's the only left,' Jiraiya thought somberly. It was a terrible thought to have, especially so for likely being right on the mark.

The boy looked up at him. Those eyes, they were without guile, but they'd seen far too much. There was a tired sadness to them, and an acceptance. An acceptance of whatever was about to come his way. 'Damn, this kid's even more pitiful than those orphans in Rain,' Jiraiya thought, memories of frightened children, pouring rain and Orochimaru's venomous whispers bubbling up through his subconscious.

"Well I couldn't leave them, and I can't leave you either," he said, reaching out an open hand to the boy, "someone less friendly than me is bound to notice that snow sooner or later." The boy looked at the hand curiously, like he didn't know what it was. Then he smiled a wide gap toothed smile that lit up his face and brought back life to his eyes. He reached out a small hand lined with dirt and took hold of Jiraiya's. It seemed swallowed up in the man's larger hand. The Toad Sage smiled back at the boy and pulled him up. "So kid, you got a name?" he asked.

"Haku," the boy said softly, looking up at Jiraiya "my name is Haku."

"Haku huh," Jiraiya grunted in surprise "I couldn't think of a better name myself" He continued on to himself, 'Yuki Haku, pure white snow.' He wondered, 'with a name like that, could he be the chosen child?' He gave a little shake of his head, dismissing the thought 'there'll be time for philosophy later'. He looked down at the boy, "You hungry kid?"

Haku nodded, his smile turning shy.

"Ok, then Haku. How about we go get some lunch and get you cleaned up. After that I'll hire a boat, and take you away from this place. How does that sound to you?" he asked.

"It sounds good," the boy answered, then he hesitated and asked "what happens after that?"

"We travel the world Haku, and I train you as my apprentice," he replied, boasting "When I'm done with you, everyone in the Elemental countries will know your name!"

The boy smiled again, and this time the snow stopped falling.