Sharingan
“That can’t seriously be your plan!” Pakkun snapped indignantly, hurrying after Kakashi with quick steps. His irritation was evident in his tense tone and sour expression.
Kakashi rolled his eyes in frustration but didn’t say a word. Instead, he continued his determined march through the dense forest. Arguing with his stubborn pug was the last thing he needed right now—time was running out.
His objective was clear: reach the enemy camp as quickly as possible and initiate the diversion. Meanwhile, Sakumo would covertly lead their troops into striking distance, ready to seize the critical window of opportunity. Every second mattered, and Kakashi couldn’t afford distractions.
An argument with Pakkun would only waste precious time. He had known from the start that his loyal companion wouldn’t be thrilled with the plan, but Kakashi also knew he could count on Pakkun when it truly mattered. The rest of the pack would only be summoned upon reaching the camp; Pakkun alone would suffice for the journey there.
Kakashi paused briefly, his sharp gaze scanning the forest with practiced vigilance. The deeper he went, the denser the trees grew, their shadows blending seamlessly into one another, creating perfect cover. The terrain, however, became more challenging—rocky paths, steep inclines, and slippery stones made more treacherous by the relentless rain. But the rain was a double-edged sword—it made the ground dangerous, but it also offered Kakashi the concealment he needed to approach the enemy unnoticed. Every step had to be calculated.
The pug stopped beside him, standing resolutely with his head held high, his expression defiant. Kakashi remained unimpressed, not even glancing at him. Instead, he spoke in his usual calm tone, his gaze still scanning their surroundings. “How well can you pick up scents in this rain?”
He knew Pakkun’s keen sense of smell was a critical asset. If the pug could detect foreign scents despite the rain, it would significantly enhance their chances—especially in such risky terrain.
Pakkun exhaled softly, his ears twitching as he kept his eyes fixed on Kakashi. “It’s not easy,” he finally admitted in a steady voice. “The scents are too faint to track in time.”
Kakashi gave a curt nod, biting his lip in thought. This was exactly what he had feared. While it didn’t alter his plan, it meant he’d have to be even more cautious and meticulous. As he pondered his next steps, Pakkun’s voice broke through his thoughts abruptly.
“Why are you doing this?” the pug asked suddenly, his tone less accusatory and more genuinely curious.
Kakashi glanced down at Pakkun, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly, his voice serious. “I’m just reviewing everything to make sure I don’t make any mistakes.” His sharp eyes remained alert as he mentally ran through possible scenarios.
“That’s not what I mean,” Pakkun shot back sharply, fixing Kakashi with an intense gaze that was hard to ignore. “Why did you volunteer for this mission? Haven’t you learned anything from what happened at the frontlines? If Orochimaru had been even a second later…” Pakkun paused, his voice softening, almost pleading. “…you wouldn’t be standing here.”
Kakashi clenched his fists, his eyes filled with determination. He was painfully aware of how close it had been last time, how much he’d held himself back. But this time was different. He couldn’t just stand by. “I have to do this!” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. Then he resumed his path, his stride purposeful, as though there were no other option.
Pakkun followed without hesitation, his small paws steady on the ground. “I can’t just watch while my father is in trouble,” Kakashi continued, the words spilling out of him. “He would always put his comrades before himself, even if it meant making enemies. And in the worst case, it could end the same way as last time… I can’t let that happen.” The resolve in his voice left no room for doubt—he would do whatever it took to prevent history from repeating itself.
Pakkun sighed deeply, his eyes narrowing as he spoke to Kakashi. “Have you even considered, for a moment, how your father would feel if something happened to you? Do you think he’d just go on as if nothing had happened?” The pug took a step closer, his gaze hard and filled with concern. “Kakashi, it would break him, and in the end, you wouldn’t have changed anything.”
A brief silence followed before Pakkun added softly, almost tenderly, “You need to learn to act more like a child and focus on your training above all else. That’s the only way you’ll truly be able to save everyone.” His words carried a sharpness born of deep worry, but also a gentle urgency that Kakashi could feel.
The silence stretched on as they walked wordlessly. Kakashi let Pakkun’s words echo in his mind. He knew his ninken was right—he needed to dedicate more time to training his body. But the urge to act immediately was stronger than reason. The desire to protect everyone drove him forward, clouding his judgment.
He could feel his thoughts and emotions shifting, as though something within him was gaining new depth. A part of him wondered if this was a side effect of the time travel. Not just his body bore the marks of change; his mind was no longer the same.
Kakashi didn’t always consciously sense it, but deep down he knew he was more than just a six-year-old. He carried the memories and experiences of another time, yet despite that knowledge, there were moments when he surprised even himself. For instance, when he encountered enemy shinobi on the way to the front and acted on impulse. Normally, he would have approached such situations calmly and methodically, but in that moment, instinct had taken precedence over rational thought.
Or when he faced his father. The closeness and warmth he felt in his father’s arms had made all his fears and doubts vanish for a moment. He had simply let himself go, as though he had never been away. If he was honest, he’d enjoyed falling asleep in his father’s arms. It was a feeling he had thought lost—a sense of safety and comfort he had no longer dared to dream of. When was the last time he had felt so carefree and protected?
“As soon as this is over, I’ll focus entirely on my training and on being a child again. But for now, I have to finish this,” Kakashi stated calmly as he quickened his pace, his eyes sharpening. The rain made it harder to see, and he had to strain to make out anything in the blurred darkness.
“It feels strange… almost like I’m losing my mind,” he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I just can’t seem to get my thoughts in order.” He cast a quick glance at Pakkun to make sure the pug was still following. The small, loyal figure was always by his side, but in this moment, Kakashi himself seemed to be losing his balance.
Pakkun hummed thoughtfully, pausing for a moment as though searching for the right words. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice calm but penetrating: “Have you ever thought about telling your father the truth? Minato and Kushina know, after all, and your father—he would never put you in danger. Just like them, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Maybe it would make things easier.” His words hung in the air as he glanced at Kakashi, a look that conveyed more than a thousand words.
Kakashi continued walking, his gaze resolute, his brows slightly furrowed. Of course, he’d thought about telling his father the truth. He knew he could trust him, knew his father would never act against him. But that was precisely the problem.
He couldn’t tell him. His father would want to know what had happened—everything. And Kakashi wasn’t ready to share that burden. He wasn’t ready to see disappointment in his father’s eyes. The mistakes he’d made in the future were heavy enough to bear. Even though he had come to forgive himself and learned to live with them, the thought of sharing that weight with his father was unbearable.
He couldn’t imagine standing before his father and revealing the truth—only to see the potential disappointment or pain reflected back at him. It was a risk he couldn’t take. Not now, not like this.
“I just can’t tell him,” Kakashi said, a hint of bitterness in his voice, his gaze fixed ahead. “He’ll want to know what happened. How am I supposed to tell him that he…” Kakashi paused, his breath catching for a moment before he continued, his voice quiet and heavy. “…that he took his own life? Or how much I failed?”
His words sounded like a confession, one that hurt him to speak, and he cast a brief, uncertain glance at Pakkun. The hope that his loyal companion would understand was all that kept him going in that moment. It wasn’t just fear of the conversation—it was fear of losing his father’s respect and love.
Pakkun let out a heavy sigh, and Kakashi could almost sense the small ninken rolling his eyes. “Stop overthinking it,” Pakkun said, his tone carrying a touch of exasperation but also unmistakable warmth. “Your father loves you, Kakashi. He would never see it as failure. Sakumo will understand that you were just a child, that you didn’t know any better at the time.”
The pug paused briefly, as though weighing his words carefully, before continuing. “The only thing he might feel is disappointment in himself—disappointed that he left you alone, that he wasn’t there for you. But one thing I can guarantee: he would never blame you for anything.” His words were calm, yet imbued with the steadfast conviction only a loyal companion like Pakkun could possess.
Kakashi shook off the thoughts that began to creep in, forcing himself not to dwell on them further. Instead, he focused intently on the mission ahead. “We don’t have time to talk about this now. We need to stay focused,” he said curtly, his voice steady but firm.
It was clear he wouldn’t entertain any further discussion. But deep inside, the thought gnawed at him—the idea of telling his father everything, of unburdening himself. The thought was appealing in a way he didn’t want to admit. Yet, he refused to allow himself that luxury. Not now. Not here.
Pakkun shot him a scrutinizing glance but said nothing. He knew when it was pointless to continue the conversation. Instead, he stayed close behind Kakashi, his ears pricked alertly as the rain continued to drum relentlessly against the forest floor around them.
Kakashi stopped briefly, letting his sharp gaze sweep through the increasingly dense foliage. The terrain grew steeper, the ground slicker, but he used the unevenness to his advantage. Every step was deliberate, every breath controlled.
"We're close," he murmured, more to himself than to Pakkun. The tension was visible on his face, but it gave him a sharp focus. His goal was clear, his thoughts steady—at least for the moment.
Pakkun nodded curtly. "Stay alert. The rain helps us remain undetected, but it also makes it harder to pick up their scent."
"I know," Kakashi replied tersely, feeling the tension in his body tighten further. Just a few more steps, and they would reach the edge of the enemy camp. Everything depended on him making no mistakes now.
Soon enough, Kakashi arrived at the camp’s perimeter. With a quick, barely noticeable hand signal, he directed Pakkun to take cover in the underbrush. The pug disappeared into the shadows almost instantly, his presence reduced to nothing more than a whisper in the wind. Kakashi himself paused, his eyes scanning the camp with precision.
He surveyed the area, his senses on high alert. On his side of the tents, there was no movement. Towards the center of the camp, however, he spotted several shinobi huddled together, apparently enjoying a break. Their relaxed posture was dangerous—it was the perfect moment to strike but also one that required precise timing.
The rear of the camp was noticeably underguarded, as if the enemy shinobi didn’t even consider the possibility of an attack from that direction. They seemed so confident in their secure position that they had neglected basic precautions. Kakashi shook his head slightly at their naive carelessness. To him, it was inconceivable to ever feel so safe as to ignore potential threats entirely.
Despite their lax defense, Kakashi remained cautious. He knew better than to let his guard down, even in seemingly favorable circumstances. Caution was everything, and even then, it wouldn’t guarantee safety from traps. Constant vigilance was his only option.
Moving slowly and with the utmost care, Kakashi advanced, each step deliberate as he navigated through the shadows of the trees. Pakkun trailed closely behind, his keen eyes scanning their surroundings, ready to catch the slightest movement in the darkness. Kakashi knew it was only a matter of time before he encountered a trap. And sure enough, within moments, he spotted the first signs.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he noticed the thin wires strung skillfully between two trees. "Just as I thought," he whispered, almost satisfied with the discovery. With a delicate touch, he ran his fingers over the wire, his movements so light that they barely disturbed its tension.
Pakkun stepped up beside him, casting a skeptical glance at the trap. "And what's so good about that?" he asked with a low growl, as though unimpressed by the find.
Kakashi shot Pakkun a confident grin and explained calmly, "We’ll use the traps as distractions. We’ll trigger them in multiple spots, combined with smoke bombs and explosive tags, to draw their attention to the rear. It won’t hold them for long, but it’ll be enough to give our troops a decisive advantage."
His gaze shifted forward again, his expression hardening as the reality of the plan settled in. "I’ll summon the pack shortly and explain the strategy to them. After that, we’ll split up. But you’ll stay with me. Even though it won’t be easy, I need you to keep an eye on me and warn me if anyone gets too close."
Kakashi paused for a moment, his gaze fixed firmly on Pakkun. “The pack has to retreat the moment things get dangerous—including you. None of you should be put in harm’s way. I won’t allow anything to happen to any of you.” The seriousness in his tone was unmistakable, but there was also a trace of genuine care.
“And what about you?” Pakkun asked, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he stepped closer to Kakashi. “The pack isn’t ready to leave you behind.”
Kakashi cast another glance toward the enemy camp, where everything still appeared calm. Then he turned back to Pakkun, who stood facing him. “Don’t worry,” he said firmly, his voice steady and resolved. “I’ll slip away the moment they start to realize something’s wrong. That’s why you need to stay close and warn me if their scents grow stronger. I’ll use my smaller form to disappear into the forest. Even if they pursue me, it’ll only be a small group. By then, the main attack will already be underway.”
A faint but determined smile appeared on Kakashi’s face. “It’ll be fine.”
Pakkun held Kakashi’s gaze for a moment, the uncertainty in his eyes plain to see. Still, he eventually nodded, albeit reluctantly, scratching his ear briefly. “I’ll do my best,” he said with a quiet sigh, though his tone was resolute.
Straightening slightly, he added, “Summon the rest of the pack so they can get into position. The sooner we start, the better. Otherwise, your father’s just going to worry unnecessarily—and you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Despite the playful jab in his words, there was a note of concern that showed how deeply Pakkun wanted to support him.
Kakashi gave a serious nod, his expression focused and determined. He took a deep breath, as though trying to release the tension from his muscles, before pulling down his mask and biting into his thumb in one swift motion. Blood dripped onto his skin as he formed the hand seals with calm precision.
With a muffled poof, the rest of the pack appeared around him, their familiar forms watching him intently. Kakashi pulled his mask back up in a practiced, almost mechanical motion, then closed his eyes briefly. His thoughts raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. This had to work. There was no margin for error.
When he opened his eyes again, they shone with unwavering determination. In a firm voice, he laid out the plan, delivering clear instructions to his ninken as they listened intently. There were no questions, no hesitation—just absolute loyalty and trust in their leader.
Once all the details were finalized, Kakashi’s ninken silently dispersed to their positions. Their movements were fluid and precise, but Kakashi could still sense the subtle doubts lingering in the air. They said nothing, yet their gazes revealed more than words ever could. Even so, he knew he could count on every one of them—there was no questioning their loyalty.
Now, all he could do was wait. His eyes scanned the shadows of the forest, his senses sharp, attuned to even the slightest changes in his surroundings. Soon, the last of the ninken would reach their positions. The agreed-upon signal—a smoke bomb—would mark the start of the diversion.
Kakashi couldn’t deny the tension that gripped him. Every muscle in his body was taut, his mind spinning with endless thoughts that swirled like a relentless storm. But now wasn’t the time to succumb to them—he needed to stay alert, to avoid even the smallest mistake.
Suddenly, he felt Pakkun nestle against his side. The small ninken gave him a calm look, one that brought a surprising amount of comfort. “Stop overthinking,” Pakkun said softly, his voice brimming with confidence. “We’ve been in tight spots before. We’ll get through this.”
A faint smile flickered across Kakashi’s lips as he reached out to gently pat Pakkun on the head. “Of course, we’ll manage,” he murmured quietly, almost more to himself than his loyal companion. His gaze drifted back to the enemy camp, still resting in deceptive calm. No movement, no alarm—everything seemed to be going according to plan.
That was their advantage. The element of surprise would catch the enemy shinobi off guard, throwing them into disarray for a precious few moments. Moments they would need to grasp the situation, regroup, and react. Those moments would be critical. Yet Kakashi was keenly aware of the caliber of their foes—these shinobi were well-trained, disciplined, and deadly. Once they understood what was happening, their response would be swift.
But that was part of the plan. The goal wasn’t to defeat them, but to mislead them. By the time they realized the real attack was happening at the front, it would already be too late. The diversion needed to hold for only a few minutes—minutes that would grant his father’s forces the decisive edge they needed.
“It’ll be enough,” Kakashi muttered again, this time with firm conviction, as he worked to ease the tension from his shoulders.
His sharp gaze remained fixed on the surroundings, his senses finely tuned as he waited for the signal. The rain hadn’t let up, its quiet patter on the leaves creating an eerie calm. It was almost too quiet.
A faint rustling caught his attention, and he turned his head. Pakkun had sat upright, his nose lifted to the air. “They’re in position,” he whispered, his eyes scanning the distance without glancing at Kakashi.
Kakashi gave a brief nod, pulling a smoke bomb from his pouch and holding it for a moment in his hand. His fingers closed around the small, unassuming object, his eyes darting through the darkness. This was the critical moment, the starting signal for their plan.
Suddenly, a dull explosion shattered the stillness of the night. In the distance, a plume of smoke rose and spread like a dark shroud over the enemy camp. That was the signal. The diversion had begun.
With a quick throw, Kakashi sent his own smoke bomb to the edge of the camp. Moments later, thick, gray smoke billowed up, cloaking the area in an impenetrable fog. Almost simultaneously, multiple explosions echoed from different parts of the camp—the pack had executed the plan flawlessly. The enemy shinobi reacted immediately, their shouts and frantic movements breaking the night’s silence.
Kakashi watched the scene intently, staying hidden within the shadows. “This is our moment,” he murmured to Pakkun, before moving swiftly. His small stature and the cover of darkness allowed him to slip deeper into enemy territory, a silent shadow amidst the chaos.
The diversion was working better than Kakashi had hoped. Shinobi were running frantically in all directions, trying to locate the supposed attackers. Kakashi’s heart raced as he reached a secure position. Now, he just needed to remain unnoticed until the real battle began.
Pakkun triggered the trap with a swift movement and silently followed Kakashi through the underbrush. The rain continued to pour, but the smoke’s dense fog shielded them from the guards’ sight. Slowly but steadily, the first enemy shinobi began moving in their direction. Kakashi could feel the tension in the air—the moment had arrived.
Quickly, he reached for the explosive tags tucked safely in his pouch. In one fluid motion, he drew them out and hurled them directly into the center of the group. A piercing explosion shattered the silence, the air trembling with the force of the blast. Dust and debris erupted in all directions, obscuring everything in a veil of chaos.
“Stay alert!” a voice shouted from within the turmoil, but the disarray was complete. Kakashi could hear the rising panic—shouted commands, frantic calls, and the crunching of boots on the wet ground. Their trap had done its job.
The confusion caused by the explosion was exactly what Kakashi needed. The enemy shinobi scattered, searching for a foe who was already gone, while the smoke continued to drift in thick clouds through the camp. Kakashi seized the opportunity, weaving skillfully through the gaps between tents and trees, careful to avoid detection.
Pakkun stayed close, his sharp eyes glinting in the darkness, scanning for the next threat. “Keep it up,” he whispered softly, noting the increasing disorder around them. “They still don’t know where you are.”
Kakashi gave a faint nod, remaining calm. His mind worked like a well-oiled machine. This was the moment he needed. Now, he would press deeper into the camp, fuel the chaos further, and ensure that the main attack, already poised to strike, could proceed unhindered.
A few steps further, Kakashi heard the clinking of weapons as a group of enemy shinobi broke through the smoke, their eyes straining to catch any trace of him. The pressure in the air was palpable. Just a few more seconds.
Turning to Pakkun, he gave a barely perceptible signal. The ninken understood immediately, darting ahead like a shadow to trigger another trap that would further heighten the confusion. Meanwhile, Kakashi retreated even deeper into the darkness, ready to strike when the critical moment arrived.
The minutes dragged on. Kakashi could hear the enemy forces trying to regroup, their commands becoming sharper, louder. They were on the verge of realizing they’d walked into a trap. But by then, the real attack would already be underway. A little more patience, and the advantage would be theirs.
As Kakashi and Pakkun carefully moved through the rain, placing explosive and smoke bombs with precision, Kakashi’s attention was suddenly drawn to loud, urgent shouting from the camp. He froze, narrowing his eyes and straining to catch the words. Before he could make sense of them, Pakkun interrupted, his usual calm laced with an undercurrent of urgency.
“It worked,” the ninken whispered, his watchful gaze scanning their surroundings. “The troops are attacking from the front now, and it seems the enemy is already retreating.”
Kakashi felt a wave of relief wash over him, but he knew this was no time to relax. Pakkun, ever alert, snapped him out of his brief moment of respite.
“This is our chance to get out of here,” Pakkun urged, his paws fidgeting against the muddy ground. “But don’t think for a second that they’ll all rush to the front. Some will stay back to secure the flanks or search for spies. We need to vanish now, while the chaos is still in our favor.”
Kakashi nodded sharply, pulling his mask tighter over his face and casting one last scrutinizing glance through the shadows of the trees and tents. Pakkun was right—this was the moment to escape. With every breath, the chaos in the enemy camp grew more evident. Shouts, the clashing of weapons, and the pounding of feet merged into a cacophony, perfect for covering their retreat.
“Alright, let’s move,” Kakashi whispered curtly, staying low as he began to slip away. Pakkun kept close by his side, his sharp senses attuned to even the faintest changes in their surroundings. The relentless rain continued to pour, masking their movements and providing perfect cover. Still, Kakashi knew that one wrong move now could have dire consequences.
His heartbeat quickened. Just a few more meters, and he would disappear into the safety of the forest.
But he hadn’t gone far when an unsettling sensation crept over him—the feeling of being watched. His instincts went on high alert, and Pakkun picked up on the danger as well. The ninken’s head whipped around, his ears twitching sharply.
“Watch out, Kakashi!” Pakkun barked urgently. “He’s throwing a kunai!”
Without hesitation, Kakashi dove to the side. The kunai whizzed dangerously close to his head and lodged into a tree with a dull thunk. Landing in a crouch, Kakashi’s eyes immediately scanned for the source of the attack.
A rough, booming voice cut through the sound of the rain. “Stop right there, brat!” the stranger bellowed, his silhouette emerging menacingly from the shadows of the camp.
Kakashi shot a quick glance at Pakkun, his heart pounding like a drum. “No choice,” he muttered. “We have to move faster!”
The urge to turn and confront his pursuer rose within him, but he forced the thought aside. The risk was too great. He had no way of knowing how many enemies were on his tail, and an unnecessary fight could jeopardize the entire plan. Gritting his teeth, he resolved to stick to his original course.
He picked up his pace, mud splattering under his sandals as he pushed toward the forest. “Pakkun,” he called between breaths, his focus fixed on the path ahead, “can you smell how many are following us?”
Running smoothly beside him, Pakkun lifted his snout to the air, inhaling deeply through the dampness of the rain while his ears flicked to detect movement. His expression darkened.
“At least three, maybe four,” he replied tersely. “And they’re closing in fast.”
Kakashi nodded silently, his thoughts racing. Three or four... this could get complicated.
He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, feeling his tension rise. His pursuers were relentless, closing in with precise, coordinated movements. They’re better than I expected, he thought grimly.
He turned his gaze forward again, his eyes sharp on the uneven terrain. But it was no use—no matter how difficult the path, the enemy Shinobi seemed to move through the landscape with ease. Kakashi bit his lip as his mind worked feverishly.
I won’t make it to the camp. They’ll catch me before I’m safe.
A soft sigh escaped him. There was no other choice—he would have to face the fight. His grip tightened around the kunai in his hand, and he shot Pakkun a brief, determined look. “Pakkun, get ready. Looks like we’ll have to defend ourselves.”
Kakashi was in the process of selecting the perfect spot for an ambush when his foot slipped on a wet rock. The muddy ground offered no traction, and before he could react, he lost his balance. “Damn!” he cursed as he lost his footing and tumbled down the slippery slope.
Pakkun’s alarmed shout cut through the rush of wind in Kakashi’s ears, but it was too late. The ground beneath him vanished, and he rolled down the steep incline. Mud and rocks pelted him as he desperately tried to grab onto something to stop his fall.
With a dull thud, he finally came to a stop, only to find his right leg wedged between two large boulders. Pain shot through him, and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.
“Kakashi!” Pakkun’s voice was full of concern as he peered down the slope. The little ninken hopped agilely from rock to rock, landing beside him.
“Damn...” Kakashi muttered as he tried to free his leg, but the rocks didn’t budge an inch. Each attempt only heightened the sharp pain shooting through his leg. “This is bad.”
Pakkun sniffed frantically, casting a nervous glance up the slope. “We don’t have time! The pursuers are almost here! What do we do now, Kakashi?”
Kakashi took a deep breath, trying to clear his head even though his heart pounded wildly. I can’t stay here... not like this!
Suddenly, three enemy Shinobi appeared before Kakashi, weapons drawn and faces full of determination. He felt his heart skip a beat, but his hands tightened around the kunai he held. His breath shallow, his eyes quickly searched for weaknesses in the stance of his opponents.
An almost tangible silence settled over the scene, only interrupted by the monotonous drumming of rain on the leaves and the howling of the wind, which whipped the hair and clothing of the combatants. No words were spoken, but the looks exchanged by the Shinobi carried a clear message: no mercy would be shown here.
Kakashi tensed, ready for either an attack or defense—whichever came first. His mind raced, analyzing every movement of his opponents, while the cold, damp air of the forest seemed to paralyze his limbs.
The tension reached its peak, and the first enemy took a step forward. The world seemed to freeze for a moment before everything sprang into motion.
With a deep, warning growl, Pakkun stepped in front of Kakashi, his eyes gleaming threateningly toward the attackers. The air around them seemed to vibrate, as the atmosphere grew denser with tension. But Kakashi shook his head hastily and whispered urgently, “Pakkun, you need to get out of here!”
His voice was sharp and filled with urgency. With all his strength, he tried to free himself from the trap, his leg throbbing in pain, but the thought of the looming danger kept him from standing still.
Pakkun shook his head defiantly, his eyes sparkling with determination. “We don’t leave comrades behind!” he snarled, his voice carrying more threat than any words before.
Kakashi froze. A cold, painful feeling spread through his chest as he looked into the resolute eyes of his ninken. The pug, who would never abandon him—even at the cost of his own life. The thought hit Kakashi like a blow, and for a moment, he was breathless. Pakkun would die for him.
A contradiction burned within Kakashi: he couldn’t let that happen. But he knew that his loyal companion would not compromise on his loyalty.
Before Kakashi could think any further, the mocking laughter of one of the attackers broke the tense silence. The man took a slow step forward, his posture suddenly much more relaxed, as if he felt secure. “A little boy with his dog, trying his hand at war,” he taunted, continuing to approach them.
Kakashi felt his muscles tighten, every fiber of his body primed for battle. His mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, a way to escape or defend himself. But the man seemed in no hurry. Another mocking smile played on his lips as he took another step.
“I think I’ll finish this game now!” the attacker sneered, his voice full of contempt and threat. Kakashi knew time was running out, but the enemy was getting closer.
Pakkun growled low, his muscles taut, ready to leap into the fight, while Kakashi slowly raised his kunai. The attacker came nearer, his threat looming over them like a shadow. But before the man could take another step, a sudden gust of wind shattered the silence, and a silver flash streaked through the air like an oiled blade.
Kakashi saw only a flickering streak, and then the man collapsed to the ground—lifeless, with a final, weak twitch. A deadly presence immediately spread out, an aura so overwhelming that the two other attackers recoiled in shock. Their eyes widened in fear as they sensed the air thickening, as though the forest itself was holding its breath. The pressure made them take a step back, unable to move.
Kakashi stared, stunned, at the figure before him. For a moment, he was paralyzed as he realized who stood before him. Sakumo.
Sakumo hadn’t even turned around when the fight began. With a fluid motion, he charged toward the two enemy Shinobi, who didn’t even have time to resist. They tried to draw their weapons, but it was too late. Sakumo was faster—the blade of his tanto sliced through the air and dispatched their opponents with terrifying precision. The entire fight lasted barely more than a few seconds.
As the two attackers fell to the ground, nothing more than lifeless shells, Sakumo paused for a moment between their bodies. The rain poured down on him as he breathed deeply, as though inhaling the scent of death. In a fluid movement, he wiped the blood from the blade, which slowly disappeared into the darkness, then sheathed the tanto calmly on his back.
In the next moment, Sakumo spun swiftly toward Kakashi and Pakkun. Without hesitation, he rushed to his son, the tension in his movements palpable. With a single, fluid step, he knelt beside Kakashi and thoroughly examined him, as if ensuring that nothing was overlooked. Pakkun, who had also rushed to them, gently nudged Kakashi’s hand with his snout, as if checking that his companion was still with him.
"Are you alright?" The question came softly, but the concern in Sakumo's voice was unmistakable, a slight tremor of worry breaking through his otherwise calm demeanor.
Kakashi weakly nodded, his eyes searching his father's. A look of astonishment and confusion crossed his face. "What are you doing here?" The question slipped out involuntarily. Sakumo should have been with the troops on the front lines, not here by Kakashi's side.
A gentle, almost tender smile played at the corners of Sakumo’s lips as he softly brushed wet strands of hair from Kakashi's face. "Did you really think I would leave you here alone?" he asked quietly, the words filled with warmth and unwavering resolve. "You are worth more than any battle, Kakashi."
His gaze shifted to Kakashi's leg, still trapped under the heavy stone. Without another word, he removed the stone with a mix of patience and strength, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'll get you out of here," Sakumo said calmly, as he carefully moved the stone that was holding Kakashi captive. "Then I’ll take you back to the camp. You’ll be treated and examined there."
Kakashi silently watched as his father worked with determined calm. Pakkun, who remained faithfully at his side, also said nothing, as if he sensed that this was the moment when only actions mattered. Finally, Sakumo shifted the heavy stone and carefully pulled Kakashi a little further, then cast a scrutinizing glance at his leg.
Calmly, Sakumo began removing Kakashi's sandal. "I’m incredibly proud of you," he began softly, but with a warmth in his voice that wrapped around Kakashi’s heart like a comforting band. "You did really well. And your pack did excellent work as well."
His gaze shifted to Pakkun, who now stepped aside a little as Sakumo offered him a grateful smile. "Thank you for staying with him and looking after him," he said gently. "But now you should rest. I’ve got this from here."
Pakkun briefly looked at Kakashi, as if waiting for a signal, before casting one last, worried glance at him. Kakashi nodded gratefully and whispered a soft "Thank you!" With a quick, approving nod, the pug vanished in a cloud of smoke, his figure immediately out of sight, yet his presence lingered.
Kakashi turned his attention back to his father, who was carefully examining his foot. A sharp pain shot through Kakashi as his father tried to move his ankle. A sharp hiss escaped him, and he could almost feel the stabbing pain in his leg. His ankle was likely sprained, at worst, broken.
Sakumo took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, organizing his thoughts. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a small first aid kit. With calm, practiced movements, he opened it and retrieved bandages and a splint.
"I'm going to stabilize your ankle so we can safely get you back to the camp," he said in a firm voice as he prepared the bandage. His gaze remained vigilant and focused, but there was a quiet concern in his eyes that he couldn’t fully hide.
Carefully, he positioned Kakashi's leg comfortably and began wrapping the bandage. His hands worked precisely as he spoke soothingly, "This won’t take long, but you have to stay still, Kakashi. Once your ankle is stabilized, we can head back."
Kakashi watched every movement of his father with tense shoulders. Words hovered unsaid on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. What could he say? How could he express himself when guilt weighed down on his chest like a stone?
Sakumo was here only because of him, risking everything—his life, his position, his comrades’ trust. And why? Because Kakashi kept putting him in danger. Not just now, since he’d been thrust back in time, but much earlier.
His gaze drifted to his hands, which were trembling slightly. These hands that had seen so much blood, made so many mistakes—yet still had not lost his father’s affection. The guilty conscience gnawed at him, biting deep, as he realized how long he had been lying to his father. How many chances he had missed to tell him the truth, to trust him.
And yet, he remained silent. The words wouldn’t come. Instead, Kakashi lowered his head, as if he couldn’t bear his father’s gaze any longer.
Kakashi closed his eyes, letting the cool rain pour down on his face as he took a deep breath. His heart pounded, as if he had a premonition of what he was about to do. It might not be the right moment—amidst the forest, after a dangerous mission, with a wounded leg. But when would it ever be the right moment? When had it ever felt right?
His decision was made. He could no longer bear the weight of the secrets, not in front of the man who had sacrificed everything for him.
"Dad?" His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it broke through the sound of the rain and rustling leaves.
Sakumo paused, his hands hovering over Kakashi's ankle as he looked at him attentively. Concern was in his eyes, but his voice remained calm and patient. "What’s wrong? Are you still in pain somewhere?"
Kakashi slowly shook his head, but his hands involuntarily clenched into fists. His heart pounded so loudly that he felt as if his father could hear it. "No... it's not that." His voice was soft, hesitant, as if every word was suffocating him.
Sakumo carefully set the bandage aside and knelt closer to him. "Kakashi?" His voice was gentle, but his gaze grew more serious. "What’s bothering you?"
Kakashi swallowed hard, his eyes searching Sakumo's, as if looking for support. "Dad... I..." He paused, took a deep breath before continuing. "There’s something I should have told you a long time ago."
Kakashi inhaled deeply, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to collect his thoughts. The words seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but they just wouldn’t come out. Just as he found the courage to speak, Sakumo abruptly raised his hand, a silent gesture for caution.
His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits as he surveyed their surroundings carefully. "Wait," Sakumo whispered, his voice barely a breath, "I sense something."
Kakashi felt his pulse quicken as he noticed the chakra signatures surrounding them. At least ten shinobi, skillfully hidden in the shadows of the trees. His eyes widened slightly as his body automatically shifted into defense mode.
Beside him, Sakumo tensed, his posture calm but alert. Without an unnecessary movement, he slowly drew his tanto, the blade glimmering faintly in the rainlight. His gaze remained vigilant as it swept through the trees.
"Stay close to me," Sakumo whispered with an authority that left no room for argument, "and let me handle this."
Sakumo slowly rose to his feet, his movements fluid. His tanto flowed like an extension of his arm into a defensive stance, sending a clear message: Any step closer could be the last.
Kakashi gritted his teeth and straightened up slightly, despite the throbbing pain in his ankle. His eyes quickly scanned the scene unfolding in front of them, his mind working feverishly on possible escape or defense strategies.
Then there was a rustle in the treetops, and in the next moment, ten shinobi leapt from the shadows of the trees. They landed with impressive precision and formed a semicircle, enclosing father and son.
Sakumo reacted instinctively, his stance growing even more determined, every muscle in his body taut with tension. The opponents had them surrounded, but Sakumo's gaze remained calm, almost unmoved.
"Stay behind me," he murmured without taking his eyes off the attackers. His voice was deep and unwavering, like a rock in the midst of a raging storm. Kakashi nodded, his fingers twitching slightly, ready to intervene if necessary—even though he knew Sakumo would rather keep him safe.
One of the attackers took a step forward, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips. "The White Fang of Konoha. It's an honor," he said, a hint of mockery in his voice, lacing the words like poison in the air.
His gaze drifted back to Kakashi, and with a crooked grin, he tilted his head as if discovering an especially interesting puzzle. "And that... your son? Hard to miss." A broad, almost mocking smile spread across his lips as he noticed Kakashi's exhausted state and the growing discomfort in his eyes.
"This must be my lucky day," he added, his voice dripping with contempt and delight at the opportunity.
Kakashi could almost feel the waves of Sakumo's chakra as it surged with untamed power, coursing through his body. Sakumo's stance shifted into one of complete control and deadly precision – a master in his element.
"I won't make it that easy for you!" he hissed, his voice sharp as a blade. In a lightning-fast movement, he assumed a battle stance, ready to face any attack that would be thrown their way.
Kakashi knew how dangerous this situation was. His father was undoubtedly capable of taking on all the attackers. His speed, precision, and lethal techniques were feared, not only by enemies but by allies as well. But Kakashi understood what many did not see: Sakumo would never fight with his full strength as long as his son was at his side.
A part of Sakumo's focus – perhaps just a tiny but crucial part – would always be directed toward Kakashi's safety. And that was the danger. Kakashi felt it like a stab to his heart. His father would risk his own life without hesitation if it meant he could protect him. This unconditional devotion was a gift, but at the same time, a potential vulnerability in this fight.
"I can't let this happen," Kakashi thought, his gaze flicking between the attackers and Sakumo. He needed to find a way to relieve his father, to ensure that Sakumo wouldn't have to divide his focus – even if it meant putting himself in danger.
Kakashi gritted his teeth, his determination stronger than the pain pulsing through his leg. With trembling fingers, he reached into his weapon pouch and pulled out a kunai. The blade felt familiar and reassuring in his hand, but his heart raced with unease. He knew this wouldn't be an easy fight – not with these numbers, and not with his injury.
Sakumo glanced at him briefly, his eyes filled with concern but also firm determination. Without looking directly at his son, he spoke in a calm, almost gentle voice that still brooked no disagreement. "You need to get out of here, Kakashi. I'll hold them off. This is your chance to run."
Kakashi subtly shook his head, his grip tightening around the kunai. But Sakumo raised a hand to silence him. His gaze returned to the opponents, his posture tense like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "No matter what happens, you will run. Understood?"
The words hit Kakashi like a blow. Sakumo would sacrifice himself if necessary – Kakashi knew it, he saw it in his father's eyes. But that was exactly what kept him from obeying. How could he leave his father behind?
"But Dad!" Kakashi called out, his voice trembling with emotion as he shook his head. "I won't leave you!" His eyes burned, a mixture of desperation and anger, as he felt the determination in Sakumo's stance.
Sakumo turned to him once more, his gaze stern but filled with paternal concern. "This is not a suggestion, Kakashi. It’s an order!" His words were sharp as a blade, but behind them lay an unspoken pain. "Your life is more important than anything else."
Before Kakashi could respond, Sakumo sprang into action. With impressive speed, he leaped forward, his silhouette a silver flash in the pouring rain. His tanto gleamed in the twilight as he charged toward the enemies, not hesitating for even a second.
Kakashi stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched. The rain pelted down on him, but all he could feel was the cutting fear threatening to suffocate him. How could he just watch—or even run away?
Kakashi clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug painfully into his skin. His father was a whirlwind of steel and determination, his movements fluid and precise. Two of the shinobi dropped to the ground instantly before they even had time to react. But there were still eight left—and they began to regroup, coordinating their attacks.
Kakashi gritted his teeth. "I can’t just look away. He needs me." The pain in his ankle was nothing compared to the knot in his chest. He wouldn’t allow his father to fight alone—and possibly die.
Without thinking further, Kakashi pulled a smoke bomb from his pouch and threw it into the crowd. Thick, gray clouds spread out, creating a moment of confusion. Some of the enemies stepped back, while Sakumo immediately took advantage of the opportunity, taking down two more.
"Kakashi!" Sakumo called warningly as he sensed his son had moved. "I told you—"
"I know what you said!" Kakashi’s voice was firm, despite the fear in his eyes. "But I’m your son! I won’t let you fight alone!" He held his kunai in one hand, while with the other, he threw a few shuriken at the enemies breaking through the smoke. His aim was precise, forcing two of them to dodge, giving Sakumo more space to maneuver.
A brief flash of pride gleamed in Sakumo’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by seriousness. "You fool. You’re as stubborn as your mother." Sakumo threw himself back into the battle with renewed determination, his movements becoming even more aggressive. If they worked together now, they might have a chance.
The remaining enemies had regrouped and were now more cautious. One of them, seemingly the leader, stepped forward. "How touching," he mocked, as he attached an explosive tag to a kunai. "Father and son fighting side by side. Too bad this will be their last fight."
The tension in the air was palpable as the leader of the enemy group suddenly charged forward. His movements were fast, his kunai with the explosive tag aimed directly at Kakashi. Kakashi recognized the attack, but his injured ankle kept him from dodging quickly enough. His eyes widened as he realized he couldn’t escape in time.
"Kakashi, watch out!" Sakumo shouted.
Without hesitation, Sakumo threw himself between his son and the attacking blade. The explosion followed immediately. A deafening roar filled the air, and smoke and dust swirled in every direction. Kakashi was thrown back and landed hard on the ground. His head rang, but the first thing he noticed was the smell of burnt clothing and the dull groan of his father.
"Dad!" Kakashi cried frantically as he scrambled to his feet and crawled toward Sakumo. His father lay on the ground, his tanto still in hand, but blood was seeping from a deep wound in his side. Parts of his clothing were burned, and his breathing was labored.
"Kakashi..." Sakumo murmured as he looked at his son. His face was twisted in pain, but in his eyes, there was determination. "I told you... to leave."
"I can't lose you, not again!" Kakashi's voice was broken, tears mixing with the rain that continued to pour down on them.
Sakumo briefly closed his eyes in pain and reached for Kakashi's hand. His voice was quiet but filled with resolve. "Kakashi... please. You have to leave here. I’ll hold them off."
He opened his eyes and looked at his son intently, his gaze full of love and concern. "It’s my job to protect you. You are the most important thing to me."
The enemies were closing in again, but Kakashi could only stare at his father, who was slowly trying to rise, despite barely having the strength to do so. Kakashi shook his head vehemently. "No! You can’t fight anymore! I... I’ll get us out of here! We can do this together!"
But what could he do? He was injured and couldn’t take on this many enemies. His body was too weak, his chakra reserves too low. He clenched his fists as the enemies drew closer. Kakashi’s thoughts raced desperately, searching for a solution.
Sakumo’s grip on Kakashi’s hand weakened, his fingers slowly slipping away as his breathing grew more shallow. Panic surged in Kakashi as he looked at his father’s pale features. "No... Dad, please hold on!" he whispered, his voice trembling with desperation.
Amid the rain, which fell like a drumroll on the scene, Kakashi heard the deep, commanding voice of one of the shinobi: "Make sure the White Fang is dead, and get the boy! He could have valuable information."
Kakashi lifted his gaze, his eyes burning with anger and fear. His father lay defenseless before him, and the attackers began to move, their steps decisive and lethal. His heart raced.
Kakashi closed his eyes as a paralyzing wave of helplessness washed over him—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. His fingers dug desperately into the fabric of Sakumo’s sweater, which was already soaked with warm, sticky blood. The reality seemed to be closing in on him.
He simply couldn’t stand seeing his father like this—not again. Not after he had already lost him once. A mix of anger, pain, and pure desperation rose within him as his heart fought against the fear that threatened to consume him.
But it took only a heartbeat for Kakashi to realize that he was no longer the helpless boy he once was. He was Kakashi Hatake, the Copy Ninja, an elite shinobi, the sixth Hokage. His fear transformed into ironclad determination. Giving up? Not for him. Not today.
His father had spent his entire life protecting him—now it was his turn to take on that role. A cold calm settled over him as his senses sharpened. "None of you will lay a finger on him," he hissed quietly, yet his voice dripped with lethal seriousness.
Slowly, Kakashi opened his eyes, now filled with cold resolve. With a soft crack, he rose to his feet, his chakra erupting in a bright flash as he lifted his gaze and locked onto the two shinobi approaching him with deadly precision. An unstoppable killing intent radiated from him, making the attackers freeze for a moment as if they had collided with an invisible wall.
Their eyes widened, their faces reflecting utter disbelief.
"Th... this can’t be...," one of them stammered, instinctively pulling a kunai, the trembling metal in his hand betraying his uncertainty. But it was already too late. Kakashi had changed—and with him, the entire threat that emanated from him.
For a moment, confusion gripped Kakashi as he took in the situation. It couldn’t be—but it was real. Through the Sharingan, he perceived every detail with precision, as if time itself had slowed down. His gaze briefly drifted to his hands, and a flood of thoughts broke through the otherwise ordered calm in his mind. But Kakashi forced himself to focus. The storm inside him would not come now. This was not the time to be distracted by doubts or unexplainable questions. The calm he sought had to be found in this moment—for himself, for his father, for the battle that still lay ahead.
A determined spark flickered in Kakashi’s eyes as he realized the significance of his newfound advantage. If he possessed it, he would use it. A confident smile crept onto his lips as he moved, quickly and precisely forming the hand seals. The next moment, the familiar, piercing sound of a thousand birds rang through the air like a call. The price he paid—his entire chakra—was high, but Kakashi did not hesitate. He had no time to doubt or deliberate. It would be enough. It had to be enough.
In an instant, faster than the eye could follow, Kakashi broke through the enemy ranks. With impressive speed, he dodged their attacks as if they were mere slow shadows, bringing them down in a flowing dance of precision. His body moved like a storm—blazing fast, deadly, and resolute.
The familiar feeling of the Chidori surged through his arm as he thrust through an attacker’s chest with a single, precise movement. The powerful current of electrical chakra caused the enemy to collapse before they could even grasp what had happened. Kakashi's heart beat in time with that of a warrior who had entered the battle—calm, focused, and filled with unwavering determination.
With every enemy he struck down, his confidence grew. Finally, he could unleash the power he had mastered over the years. He would protect everyone who was important to him.
Kakashi faced the last enemy, the leader. The man stared at him with wide eyes, an expression of total confusion and fear on his face. “Who... or what are you?” he stammered, the words trembling in his throat.
A confident smile played on Kakashi’s lips as he calmly and resolutely approached him. “You should have never underestimated me.” His voice was calm, almost casual, as he took the final step and looked the leader directly in the eyes. “After all, I am the sixth Hokage.”
With that declaration, the air around him transformed into a wave of deadly determination. A final, lightning-fast leap—and the battle was over. The leader collapsed to the ground, the fight decided by Kakashi's hands.
A heavy silence settled over the clearing as the Chidori's echoes slowly faded, and the last remnants of the battle disappeared into the air. Kakashi stood alone under the pale light of the twilight sky, the ground around him littered with the remnants of the clash. The victory had been won, but the price had been high. His chakra was nearly depleted, and his body screamed in pain. Every movement was agony, yet he pushed aside the feeling of weakness.
With unwavering determination, driven by a deep, threatening instinct, Kakashi staggered forward. His goal was clear—his father. Despite the dwindling strength in his limbs, he pressed on, each step a victory over exhaustion. He knew he could not give up, not now. Time was running out, and he would do whatever it took to save the man who had always stood by him.
When Kakashi finally reached his father, he froze for a moment, gazing at Sakumo's alarmingly pale face. The blood loss was devastating, far too much. A cold shiver ran down his spine, but he forced himself to remain calm. Breathing heavily, he dropped to his knees and reached for Sakumo's neck to feel for a pulse. A flicker of relief washed over him as he felt the weak, but still present, sign of life. His father was alive—but badly wounded, and Kakashi knew every second counted.
His head was spinning, the exhaustion from the drained chakra pressing down on his thoughts like a paralyzing fog. Every attempt to think clearly seemed to fade into a haze of weakness and pain. But he could not give up. Not now.
The world around him blurred, dizziness struck with frightening force, and before he could realize it, Kakashi toppled to the side. A desperate attempt to move failed, his limbs feeling heavy and foreign. Every muscle, every fiber of his body was spent. He had no control, no energy—only the sensation that he was teetering between consciousness and darkness. His strength was gone, and he could do nothing but sink helplessly into the ground.
Before Kakashi completely sank into the darkness, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching quickly. With his last strength, he lifted his head and looked up, the figure before him blurry and indistinct. But as his vision cleared, he froze. Orochimaru stood before him, and the shocked expression on his face sent a chill down Kakashi's spine. In that moment, Kakashi realized what had so surprised the Sannin: he had seen everything. The fierce battle, the chaos, and most of all—the Sharingan, still burning relentlessly.
Before Kakashi could utter a word, before he could even attempt to explain himself, the darkness closed in like a suffocating veil. All control slipped away, and he found himself in complete emptiness—helpless, frozen, unable to do anything.