As a Thing and Its Shadow

He receives a message from the Hokage the next day. A very small genin arrives at his door, hitai-ate painstakingly clean and displayed prominently across her brow. She bows, proffering a scroll in outstretched hands.

“What is it,” Kakashi says. The genin visibly flinches. He sighs internally. Dealing with children was exhausting enough when he actually was a child. It’s even worse now that he has an established reputation for murdering his teammates. They’re all terrified of him.

“It’s from the Hokage, sir,” she squeaks eventually. “Summons, sir. I don’t know when, sir.” She’s sneaking glances up at him from under her bowed head. Every muscle in her body is tensed. The effort that it takes to not roll his eye is physically painful, but he manages.

“Fine,” he says, and plucks the paper from her hand. “Thank you.”

She stares at him, eyes huge. Gods. This kid is a whole ninja? Legally an adult? Kakashi would have thought that after the war they could afford to stop graduating the idiots who clearly couldn’t handle being shinobi, but apparently not.

“You can leave now,” he tells her helpfully.

She frowns and squares her shoulders. “You didn’t tip me.”

Fucking genin. Too scared to actually look at him, but bold enough to ask for her tip. Kakashi barely remembers being a genin, but he knows he wouldn’t have pulled this crap.

Whatever. Genin make hardly anything. For all he knows, she’s relying on tips for her survival. Rin was, for a little while before Minato-sensei found out. Orphans slip through the cracks sometimes in Konoha. He digs out a twenty and forks it over without protest.

The genin bows again, deeper, says cheerfully, “Thank you, ANBU-san!” and bestows a wide grin upon him, any trace of her earlier nerves vanished. Kakashi shuts the door behind her, nonplussed. Little shit. Maybe she does have potential as a ninja.

He unrolls the scroll. The Hokage’s seal is at the top of the page. Below, it reads:

MEMORANDUM TO ANBU: HOUND-19368.

SUBJECT: Report to High Command 0900h.

Beneath it, someone has scrawled “expect EOO.” Translation: extended operation orders. He should pack for a long journey. Typical.

Luckily, Kakashi owns basically nothing and never spends any time in Konoha anyway, so it’s only a few minutes’ work to throw some extra underwear, a canteen, and a few kunai into the go bag in his closet. Most of his weapons are in his ANBU locker, and they’ll give him whatever rations and funds he needs before he heads out.

A shunshin later and the Sandaime is in front of him, pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth. His eyes crinkle into a smile at Kakashi’s arrival.

“Hound,” he greets Kakashi. “Thank you for coming. I have orders.”

It’s these little niceties that set the Sandaime apart as a shinobi and as a Hokage; he doesn’t need to thank Kakashi for following orders, or even give Kakashi his missions in person. He embodies a kindness and an intimacy with every single one of his shinobi. Even the youngest Academy students are familiar with him, and he makes it a point to know every one of them by name, civilian and ninja families alike.

Kakashi usually appreciates this small show of warmth, rare enough in the military world he inhabits, but in the wake of his conversation with Pakkun, he looks at the Sandaime’s face and thinks, you should have done more. Here is the Hokage, one of the five most powerful people on the Continent, and he could not protect his own village from themselves, and he has the audacity to smile at Kakashi like his appearance is something good. To thank him for coming, as if he could disobey a direct order from the Hokage, before he sends Kakashi out to bloody his hands yet again in the name of Konohagakure no Sato. It’s too much right now for Kakashi to stomach, so he says nothing, inclines his head respectfully and waits.

The Sandaime removes his pipe from the corner of his mouth. “Something on your mind, Hound?”

Before he can think better of it, Kakashi says, “I was wondering, sir.”

The Sandaime waves a hand for him to continue. “I was wondering about tracking Uchiha Itachi. It has been six months since the incident. Surely Konoha is strong enough to send out hunters after him by now, sir.”

The Hokage doesn’t react, not outwardly, but Kakashi can feel his attention sharpen. He takes another inhale of his pipe, lets the smoke billow outward from his mouth before responding. Kakashi resists the urge to shift his weight. His suggestion was borderline insubordinate; questioning the advisability of the Hokage’s orders, or lack thereof, is to imply that he knows better than the Hokage himself. The Sandaime is forgiving, but he is still Shinobi no Kami, strong enough to take out Kakashi without breaking a sweat.

The Sandaime says in a level voice, “Unfortunately, ANBU, that is not the mission that I have for you at this time. I ask that you trust me with regards to the Uchiha matter.” His tone makes it clear he is not asking.

Kakashi notes instantly the change of address from his ANBU codename to his rank. The Sandaime is reminding him of his place; it’s a rebuke. Uncharacteristically quick to anger from the old man. Kakashi narrows his eye.

He’s not suicidal enough to defy his Hokage to his face, however, no matter how kind the Sandaime might be. “Yes, sir. I apologize.”

The Sandaime nods briefly, fingers drumming on the desk. Kakashi continues, “I would like to report, sir, that I sensed Uchiha Itachi’s chakra in Konoha the night before last.”

That gets a reaction. The Sandaime actually puts down his pipe and looks Kakashi full in the face. “The night before last? Why am I only hearing of this now?” His voice is still neutral, but Kakashi can feel the swell of his chakra, steaming with irritation and something else Kakashi can’t identify.

“I was coming home from the bars, sir. I was not sure whether my report would be deemed reliable or necessary. Another shinobi on duty may have sensed Itachi and reported it.”

“But you are certain that is who you sensed?” the Sandaime presses him. Kakashi nods, although he’s not. In hindsight, it was definitely Itachi’s chakra. But Itachi was an ANBU Captain, and Kakashi is not a sensor. He should not have been able to feel Itachi’s presence unless Itachi wanted him to.

The Sandaime blinks. “Thank you for your report, ANBU. I will consider its implications.” Still ANBU, not Hound. The Sandaime is keeping him at a deliberate distance. “Here is the information for your mission today. As this is a longer assignment, I am giving you four hours to before you leave. I expect you back here at 1300 hours. Dismissed.” No pleasantries. Kakashi needs to tread carefully.

He takes the proffered scroll, bows again, and leaves the room silently. He turns into a shunshin and stumbles out into a park halfway across the village. He’s breathing hard, still on tense alert. The Sandaime was angry in a way Kakashi hasn’t seen in years, since the earliest days of the war.

One thing is clear to him: there is something the Sandaime does not want him to know. Kakashi is the highest ranked ANBU Lieutenant. He is fourth in the Village chain of command, below only Morino Ibiki, ANBU Commander, Nara Shikaku, Jounin Commander, and the Hokage himself. He has the highest possible security clearance Konoha has; the only information restricted from him is because he is a field agent, and a field agent under interrogation cannot divulge what they do not know. Even then, he is aware of what’s omitted from his knowledge, and sees the logic behind it.

But this feels different. The Sandaime had reacted too defensively for it to be tactical omission of information. There is something he’s hiding. Kakashi is sure of it.

His discussion with Pakkun is echoing in his mind. All their unanswered questions about Itachi, why kill the clan, why spare Sasuke, why torture Sasuke, why tell him to avenge the Uchiha, why come back to Konoha for a night and leave no trace, why not track him down like every other missing-nin, why the Sandaime’s out-of-proportion anger, and it’s clear to Kakashi. He needs to look at the Uchiha massacre files, or he needs to talk to Itachi.

Well, he’s got four hours before he has to leave, and the report is both a lot closer and a lot less deadly than Uchiha Itachi himself. No choice at all, really. Kakashi steps into another shunshin, and emerges back at High Command.

—

The second and third floors of High Command, right below the Hokage’s part of the tower, are entirely devoted to records and files. With the right security clearance, there are profiles on every active and past Konoha shinobi, records of almost every single recorded Konoha mission, tactical reports from the most recent war, and profiles of nearly every enemy combatant faced by Konoha ninja since the days of Senju Hashirama, including kekkei genkai, specialized jutsu techniques, and summons. It’s a completely overwhelming morass of information, cross-referenced and organized in a hundred different ways depending on what you’re looking for.

Most shinobi don’t bother, because the relevant information is put in mission briefings and finding anything in the records floors is a nightmare. Kakashi fucking hates combing through the dusty, mostly useless information, but he’s tactically obsessive enough that he won’t pass up this much free intel simply because it’s boring. And it is boring as all fuck. But he realized several years ago that duh, the Sharingan gives him a photographic memory, so he tends to wander using Obito’s eye to store the info for later. This has cut down significantly on the time it takes him to find whatever file he’s looking for.

Today, he beelines for the personnel files. There should be files on Itachi in the Former Konoha Nin section, organized chronologically since the beginning of Konoha, and cross-labeled as KIA (a whole row of files), MISSING (a much smaller shelf), DISABLED (again, a disturbingly huge amount of folders) or RETIRED (very few files. Kakashi already knows his won’t be one of them).

He finds Itachi’s folder in the U section of the MISSING NIN shelf. It’s a slender, perfunctory sheet, noting only Itachi’s age, physical description, possession of Sharingan, and that he defected after slaughtering the Uchiha Clan. The fine print at the bottom notes that as he is a dangerous missing-nin, information on Itachi has been classified, and Kakashi can see the reference librarian for further questions.

Well, fine. He expected as much. He’s got clearance, and he sure as hell has further questions.

“You don’t have clearance,” the reference librarian, a middle-aged chuunin with a somber expression, says apologetically. Kakashi blinks at him.

“What?” He’s not trying to be intimidating, but enough startled irritation must creep into his tone that the chuunin flinches slightly. “What do you mean, I don’t have clearance? I am an ANBU Lieutenant. Check again.”

The librarian grimaces, but says, “Yes, sir.”

Squinting at Kakashi’s dog tags, he types the number into his computer. It makes a clearly negative beep.

Kakashi almost growls aloud in frustration, then remembers he’s in public and settles for clenching his teeth very hard beneath his mask. He gets full dental coverage as part of his ANBU healthcare package, he can afford to grit his teeth a little. Okay, a lot. It’s the only emotional expression that reveals nothing, thanks to the mask.

“Fine,” he says to the librarian. “What can you get me on the Uchiha massacre? Beyond the basic report.”

The chuunin is shaking his head before he even finishes the sentence. “Sir, almost all information surrounding that event and its… perpetrator has been classified to the highest level. Accessible only to the Hokage and the Council. I don’t even know where they keep those files.”

The Council? What the fuck? The Council barely even takes a role in Konoha military business. Their main job, as far as Kakashi can tell, is to question the Hokage’s decisions without offering anything constructive.

Well, if he hadn’t already been sure that there was something they were hiding from him, he sure as hell is now. The Council is not even in the chain of command. They are not privy to all the military intel that the Village runs on. There is no plausible reason to grant them access to a document this sensitive. But unlike this nice chuunin, Kakashi knows where they keep the files. He helped the Sandaime construct the seals.

Unfortunately, there’s no way he’s getting in that room. He’s a good fuinjutsu student, because Kushina taught him, but the Sandaime is ten times better than him. Getting past whatever barrier the Sandaime put on the door is going to be impossible. And there’s absolutely a guard posted through whatever entrance they left unsealed.

But he could at least try. Even if it’s a little bit suicidal. He’s too curious not to go check it out.

Which is how he ends up in the ceiling of the East wing of the tower, staring down at the ANBU on duty outside the Hokage’s sealed private room. The universe has blessed him for once. The ANBU is Tenzo.

Kakashi drops out of the ceiling right behind him. “Hey, buddy.”

Tenzo doesn’t even react. He’s no fun at all. “Kakashi-senpai. What are you doing here?”

Used to deciphering Tenzo’s mood through the toneless overlay of his ROOT training, it’s easy for Kakashi to detect the wariness in his voice. He goes for the blunt truth.

“I need into this room.”

“No can do,” Tenzo says, the phrase awkward in his mouth. “Hokage-sama’s orders. No one in or out.”

He knew, then. The Sandaime knew he’d come here. But why, out of all the dozens of ANBU that don’t know Kakashi or actively dislike him, would he put Tenzo on guard?

“Tenzo,” he says, “it’s important. It’s about Itachi.”

Tenzo’s mask stares blankly at him. “I really can’t, Kakashi-senpai. Please stop asking me.”

“Look,” Kakashi hisses into his ear. “I don’t think the Uchiha massacre happened the way we think it did. The Hokage is deliberately keeping it from me. Only he and the Council have access to the reports. You don’t think that’s—”

Tenzo stiffens. “The Council?”

Oh, fuck. Danzo. How did he forget about fucking Danzo? He must be concussed. His suspicion ratchets up yet another notch.

Danzo ordered him to kill the Sandaime, kidnapped and brainwashed Tenzo, nearly had Tenzo kill Kakashi. And somehow he’s still on the Council, and still has special access to the Uchiha files. Holy hell.

“The Council has special access?” Tenzo asks again. “Why?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Kakashi grits out. “How much do you trust our leaders?”

Tenzo hesitates for a minute. Kakashi holds his breath. And then Tenzo steps aside, and says, voice tense, “I am going to make a round. It will take me four minutes. The door is only locked, no seals.”

Kakashi is so proud of him. A lifetime in ROOT, barely a year out of it, and he’s already breaking rules and preparing an alibi for himself. They grow up so fast.

Tenzo vanishes down the hallway, and Kakashi steps into the room. He’s never seen it before; it’s smaller than he would have thought, and not all papers either. There’s an antique sword, still glowing with chakra, that he makes a wide berth around, an entire shelf labeled OROCHIMARU, cluttered with a mix of files, glass bottles, and shed snakeskin. Kakashi avoids that too.

A bottom drawer of the filing cabinet at the far end of the room is helpfully labeled UCHIHA. Kakashi yanks it open. There’s a cardboard box, the kind T&I uses to store evidence, with UCHIHA MADARA in neat block Sharpie lettering. It looks as if it’s been here for decades, and Kakashi wonders fleetingly if the Shodaime himself assembled it after Madara’s betrayal, or maybe the Nidaime.

But he only has a few minutes, so he pulls out the thick manila folder in the very front of the drawer. It’s labeled only with the date of the massacre.

Inside is the report from the Uchiha compound. Kakashi skims the tally of dead Uchiha—he was there in person, he can still see them in his mind’s eye—and looks at the summary of events. It’s written in standard ANBU reporting style, but he doesn’t recognize the handwriting, and it’s not labeled with an operative’s codename like the ANBU reports he writes. Not by a member of Team Ro, then.

It reads:

SUMMARY:

1) Uchiha Clan (Clan Head Uchiha Fugaku) found to be planning coup against Konohagakure no Sato leadership.
2) Prevention of planned coup assigned to ANBU: WEASEL-19575 by CO: Councilman Shimura Danzo. Further instructions: No quarter given.
3) Mission completed by ANBU: WEASEL-19575. Uchiha Clan threat eliminated. Noncombatant: Uchiha Sasuke not eliminated.
4) ANBU: WEASEL-19575 to be reclassified as S-RANK MISSING NIN.
5) Successful elimination of threat: Uchiha Clan. No further action required.

It’s signed at the bottom by CO: Shimura Danzo and stamped with the Sandaime’s official seal.

Kakashi puts the paper down. His hands are trembling.

No quarter given. No prisoners taken. Every enemy combatant to be killed, even if they surrender. He hasn’t seen that order since the war. And to be used on not enemy combatants, but citizens of Konoha—

Itachi was ordered to kill them.

Everything slots into place with alarming clarity. Why kill the Uchiha Clan? On orders, to prevent a coup. Out of loyalty to Konoha. Why not track Itachi? He did not betray Konohagakure. Why the Sandaime’s anger this morning—and Kakashi realizes what else was boiling the Hokage’s chakra when he asked about Itachi, guilt and anger making him defensive over a massacre that he put his official seal on.

Fury crawls up into his throat, vicious and sudden. Itachi had already fought a war for Konohagakure at this point, and they had the audacity to use him like this. A pawn to carry out their dirty work, and a child. A child who at the age of thirteen, was already a Captain in the fucking black ops. They ordered Itachi to kill his own family.

Kakashi knows his own record is far from clean, that the things they do in the name of Konoha are far from being technically ethical. They are shinobi; their entire job is to carry out violence. But the shinobi system is built for that. They fight other ninja, samurai, assassinate political figures; they are the weapons of the great countries so that no nation needs to raise an army. Shinobi kill other shinobi to keep countries from slaughtering civilians and razing whole lands in warfare. Kakashi has long since accepted this. He bloodies his hands to keep the people of Fire Country and Konoha safe.

But not against civilians, and never, ever, against Konoha civilians. There were Uchiha children killed, and Uchiha grandparents. Only two-thirds of the clan were even trained shinobi; some of them were just ordinary people.

He realizes he’s crumpling the paper in his hands, and forces himself to unclench his grip. He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

What is the point? He has spent eight years existing in this ANBU shadow world. His Sharingan has recorded in crystal clarity the ever-growing list of kills that he has made. He has more blood on his hands than he would ever have thought possible, dripping with it, choking on it. And he has done it all willingly, because beneath the blood of Konoha’s enemies is the blood of Rin, Obito, Minato-sensei, Kushina, and their deaths are easier to bear if he can put his hands toward the good of the village they all loved. Atonement, absolution, and somewhere, always, the vague hope that someday someone stronger will come along and end his weary existence. But what was the point, if all of this death he has dealt out was for the good of a village that made Itachi murder his own family?

“Kakashi,” a voice says behind him, and he’s jolted out of his thoughts. A rookie mistake, ignoring his surroundings like that, but he’s still reeling from those five lines on the mission report. Itachi was ordered to murder his family.

The Sandaime’s chakra is in the doorway. Kakashi’s heartbeat is so loud he can hear the blood pounding through his ears. He stands up, and turns around.

“Kakashi,” the Sandaime says.

Kakashi cuts him off. He’s so angry he can hardly find the words. “What the fuck,” he grits out, “is this?” He holds out the paper for the Sandaime to take.

The old man doesn’t take it. His pipe is gone, hands folded into his sleeves. “You found the report,” he observes. “I thought you would.”

“How dare you?” says Kakashi, voice shaking, incoherent with the force of his rage. “You—you stand there, and Itachi—”

“Itachi,” the Sandaime says quietly, “accepted his mission. He did not want other nations to invade a weakened Konoha. He did not want a war.”

“He was a child,” Kakashi hisses. “He did not want a war because he had already fought in one war!”

“He is a shinobi,” the old man says in the same calm tone. “He did his duty. You were his age in a war, and you did your duty.”

Kakashi knows, on a logical level, that the Sandaime is right. He and Itachi are shinobi; they kill people. It’s simple fact, one plus one equals two. But this feels different; when he imagines Itachi being given the orders to kill the Uchiha, when he imagines him bringing down a sword on his own parents, the irredeemable wrongness of it lodges itself in his stomach.

“No child,” Kakashi says, “should have to kill their parents. Shinobi or not. How can you have ordered him to do that?

The Sandaime looks him in the eye. “Should Danzo have given you the mission instead?”

Kakashi thinks about that one for only a moment. If Danzo had ordered him to kill the Uchiha to prevent a coup…

“Yes,” he says, and is surprised by how much he means it. “Better me than him.”

He would have hated himself for it, but he would have done it. And he would have spared Itachi the pain of killing every relative he had. Itachi, despite being a weirdo and a loner, had had a loving family, a little brother who adored him, people who counted on him. Kakashi has no one in the village; becoming a missing nin would have been far less painful for him. And what’s a few more bodies on his conscience, after all these years? He would have done it, and he dislikes the certainty of that knowledge, but he would have done it.

The Sandaime sighs, looking tired suddenly. “Minato would never have forgiven me, Kakashi. I did not give the order, but I would not have given it to you.”

“Minato-sensei is dead,” Kakashi says coldly. Stupid, self-sacrificing, noble Minato-sensei would have been angry if Kakashi had slaughtered the Uchiha, but he could hardly have blamed his student for following his example. He had died for Konoha and for his son’s sake; Kakashi could have killed for Konoha and for his teammate’s sake. “It doesn’t matter,” he tells the Hokage. “You did that to Itachi. You and Danzo.”

Kakashi looks down at the paper in his hands, and sees those words again: No quarter given. Mission completed by ANBU: WEASEL-19575. Itachi, ordered to leave no survivors. Potent rage boils up again in his stomach.

“I’m going after him,” he says. “I’m going to find Itachi.”

“Be careful, Kakashi,” the Sandaime warns. “You are Konoha shinobi. I have already said that we will not track Uchiha Itachi.” His chakra swells, threatening.

Kakashi is coiled so tense his thighs are aching with the strain of it. “You—I have killed for Konoha for years—willingly, because I thought it was keeping the people of Konoha safe—and you had them massacred!”

“They were planning a coup,” Sandaime says. “Which, whether or not it would have succeeded, would have killed people too. And could have led to war. Which is what most of your assassination missions were for, too—the prevention of war. Do not lecture me about keeping Konoha safe.”

“What is the point,” Kakashi asks slowly, “of preventing a war if the body count is the same?”

He puts the paper back into the manila folder and shoves the drawer closed on the history of the Uchiha clan. The Sandaime watches him silently.

Kakashi turns toward the doorway.

“I will have to classify you as a missing-nin,” the Sandaime tells him.

“Do that then,” says Kakashi. In this moment, the mission report and Itachi’s young face swimming before his eyes, he can’t bring himself to care about any more than finding the kid.

“Kakashi,” the Sandaime says. “Minato died to protect this village—”

“We’ll never know what Minato-sensei would say, because he’s dead,” Kakashi growls. “I’ve been on my own for a long time now, Sandaime-sama. I’m not killing for a village that murders its own people. I’m going to find that kid, who must be fucked up in the head from what he’s been through. And you won’t track me, or chase me, because then you’d have to track Itachi too, and you’re not going to waste perfectly good soldiers trying to kill your two best ANBU. So you can either kill me yourself right here and now, or you can let me go find a thirteen-year-old who’s a wanted criminal because of your orders.”

He pushes up his hitai-ate and stares with both eyes directly into the Sandaime’s face. It strikes him, suddenly, how tiny the old man is, over a head shorter than Kakashi, and how aged he looks. Kakashi recognizes, intimately, the weariness painted stark on the old man’s face, but he can’t muster any sympathy for him. Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandaime Hokage, who allowed a child of his own village to orphan his little brother.

There’s a moment of silence, and then the Sandaime says, every decade of his life heavy in his voice, “I am not going to kill you here, Kakashi. Do you really think that of me?”

Kakashi doesn’t, not really, which is kind of why he said it. He doesn’t point this out to the Hokage. He dips his head once, and walks out of the room.

Tenzo is hovering in the hallway, mask pushed over his head.

“I was eavesdropping,” he says hurriedly before Kakashi can comment. “You’re leaving?”

“Right now,” says Kakashi. “Coming?”

Tenzo bites his lip nervously. “I—no.”

Kakashi nods. He can’t really expect Tenzo to uproot his newly discovered life and become a missing nin just because Kakashi is. And it’s not really his fight; Danzo already did a number on him. For Tenzo, the reality of Konoha is still better than the decade he spent in ROOT. And he is brave, but Kakashi knows he still fears Danzo, even if he can’t talk about it. Asking him to leave Konoha in defiance of Danzo’s orders would be unfair.

“Be careful, Kakashi-senpai,” Tenzo tells him, dark eyes huge and earnest. “Here.” Wood sprouts from his palm, forming into two curved pieces the length of Kakashi’s forearm. They’re patterned with Tenzo’s usual swirls. “For you. Because you always lose your arm guards. It’s ash—it should be light but it won’t break.”

Kakashi takes the armor, crinkling his eye in a smile. He puts his hand on Tenzo’s shoulder. “Thank you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Tenzo frowns seriously. “I feel like there is not much that you wouldn’t do, Kakashi-senpai.”

Kakashi, already stepping into a shunshin, has to crack a smile at that, but he’s gone too quickly to rib Tenzo in return.

—

It doesn’t hit him for a full 24 hours, what he’s done. He’s at the very edge of Fire Country, by where the borders of Amegakure territory and the Land of Rivers meet. He picked the closest possible border, because he wasn’t sure if the Hokage would change his mind and send hunters after him. He doesn’t need any more of his comrades’ blood on his hands. Ex-comrades. Whatever.

“Oh, shit,” he says aloud, and sits down on a rock. “I just defected from Konoha.”

He summons his entire pack in an instant, ignoring the inadvisability of using chakra so blatantly in enemy territory. Which is what Fire Country is now. Oh, shit.

“Hey, boss,” says Pakkun. “Where are we?”

The rest of the pack is all around him, wet noses poking at every inch of his body. Akino makes a whuffling noise at Kakashi’s sweet new arm guards, and then sneezes so hard his sunglasses fall off. Guruko cackles delightedly, long ears flopping around. Bull tries to climb into Kakashi’s lap, trampling Urushi underfoot. The forest suddenly feels a lot less like enemy territory and a lot more like home.

“All right, settle down, you’re supposed to be ninjas,” Kakashi tells them amiably. “We’re on the edge of Fire, Ame, and River.”

“Are we on a mission?!” Urushi says, muffled from underneath Bull’s massive paw. There’s a rustling noise, and his head pops up, tongue lolling sideways out of his mouth. The hair on top of his head is completely flattened. “I haven’t been on a mission in forever, boss.”

“It’s been like two weeks since we were in Iwa, idiot,” says Shiba, condescension dripping off every syllable. Kakashi rolls his eye conspiratorially at Urushi, who pants back agreeably.

“So what’s up, boss?” Guruko asks, giving Kakashi puppy eyes.

Kakashi says bluntly, “I’ve left Konoha.”

Guruko’s tail stops thumping the ground. “You what now?”

Kakashi doesn’t want to verbally detail everything that he’s done in the past few days, so he shuts his eyes and reaches out mentally for his dogs. They can watch his memory, or skim enough of it to understand why he’s here.

“Well, all right then,” says Akino after a moment. “You want to find Itachi? Need a good nose?” He shoves his into Kakashi’s neck.

Kakashi is so, so glad he has dog summons. No judgment, no disbelief. They’re so loyal and trusting it makes his chest tighten, and he rubs a fond hand over Akino’s fuzzy head.

“You remember his scent?” he asks.

Shiba sends him a flat look. “You kidding, boss?”

“Crows! Blood! Rice flour! Uchiha!” Urushi yaps. Bull raises one hefty paw and cuffs him across the back of the head. “Ow!”

“Okay,” says Kakashi. “Then let’s find Itachi.”