Kakashi Hatake sat cross-legged on the rooftop, his silver hair catching the faint glow of a distant neon sign. Beside him, Pakkun, the pug-faced ninja hound, shifted his weight, his small paws scuffing the concrete.
The reunion had been emotional, a rare crack in Kakashi's guarded exterior, but now the two settled into the familiar rhythm of comrades catching up after a long separation.
Pakkun's gravelly voice broke the silence. "Well, your students fought before they realized the Infinite Tsukuyomi was active. Apparently, Sasuke got it in his head to kill the current Five Kage and imprison all the Tailed Beasts. Typical Sasuke, right? Naruto, being Naruto, fought him—hard. Got through to him in the end, but…" Pakkun paused, his ears drooping slightly. "They both lost one of their hands."
Kakashi's visible eye widened, a rare flash of surprise breaking his stoic mask.
'Sasuke, you idiot. And Naruto, you stubborn fool,' He leaned back, exhaling a long breath "Those two," he muttered, his tone a mix of exasperation and fondness.
"Even at the end of the world, they're brawling like genin." His mind conjured an image of Naruto and Sasuke, battered and bloody, trading blows over some philosophical nonsense while the rest of the world was in a genjutsu. 'They never change.'
The thought brought a flicker of humor, and Kakashi's lips twitched beneath his mask. "You know, Pakkun, I ought to drag them both to a training field and give them a taste of my Thousand Years of Death Jutsu. Fighting at a time like that? Honestly, it's like they're begging for a chakra-enhanced poke to the rear."
He mimed the hand signs, his eye crinkling with mischief. "Picture it: the great Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha, heroes of the Fourth Shinobi War, yelping like academy students. Maybe then they'd learn to talk it out."
Pakkun snorted, his small body shaking with a doggy chuckle. "You'd have to catch 'em first, boss. Those two are faster than you these days."
He tilted his head, his expression sly. "Besides, you'd probably get all sentimental halfway through and start lecturing them about teamwork."
Kakashi clutched his chest in mock offense. "Me? Sentimental? I'm the cold, hard Copy Ninja, Pakkun. My heart's as tough as a kunai." But his tone was light, and the warmth in his eye betrayed the lie.
'They're safe. They're alive.' The news of their victory—and their losses—settled in his chest, a mix of pride and guilt.
'I should've been there.'
Pakkun's voice softened, pulling Kakashi from his thoughts. "The funeral was held. Not yours, though—we knew you were alive, thanks to the summoning contract. We told your students, your friends. Tried to reverse-summon you, but…" He shook his head, his ears flopping.
"No luck. Until now. We've got your spatial coordinates, Kakashi. It should be easy to pull you back."
Kakashi nodded, his expression unreadable. He raised his hand, focusing his chakra to dispel the summoning jutsu.
'Come on, Pakkun. Back to Konoha.' But nothing happened. The air didn't shimmer, the smoke didn't rise. Pakkun remained, his small form stubbornly present. Kakashi frowned, trying again, his chakra flaring. Still nothing.
Pakkun's eyes widened, and he attempted to cancel the jutsu himself, his paws glowing briefly with chakra. The result was the same. "This can't be possible," he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "The contract's never failed before."
Kakashi leaned forward, his mind already dissecting the problem. "I'm sorry, Pakkun," he said, his tone calm but heavy.
"I suspected this might happen. My hypothesis is that this dimension is too far from ours. The distance—it's not just physical. It's metaphysical, maybe even beyond what our jutsu can bridge."
Pakkun's ears perked up, his sharp mind catching up. "But then how could you summon me? If the dimensions are that far apart, the jutsu shouldn't have worked at all."
Kakashi's eye crinkled in a faint smile, though it was tinged with uncertainty. "That's the question, isn't it? My guess—and it's just a guess—is that the summoning contract is bound by more than chakra. When I signed it, I used my blood, tying my life to the hounds. Jiraiya-san once told me the summoning contracts are linked to the soul, not just the body. If Orochimaru could summon souls from the Pure Land with Edo Tensei, then maybe a summoning contract can bridge two dimensions. Blood and soul—stronger than space or time."
He shrugged, his tone dry. "Or I'm just making it up as I go. Wouldn't be the first time."
Pakkun tilted his head, considering. "Sounds like something Jiraiya-san would say. All that mystical nonsense."
But his expression was thoughtful, and Kakashi knew the hound was filing the theory away. The idea was speculative, but it fit. The summoning had worked, against all odds, because the bond between Kakashi and his hounds was deeper than mere technique.
The hound's tone shifted, a spark of excitement creeping in. "Well, if you're stuck here, you should summon the others. The whole pack! It'd be fun to explore a new world, Kakashi. We hounds stick together, you know. And you—you're one of us."
Kakashi's heart twinged, the words hitting harder than he expected. The hounds had been his family since he was a child, raised alongside them by his father, Sakumo, the White Fang. After Sakumo's suicide, after Obito and Rin's deaths, after Minato and Kushina's passing, the hounds had been a constant—loyal, fierce, and unjudging.
Pakkun's words, simple as they were, carried the weight of that bond.
'One of us.'
Kakashi swallowed, his throat tight, and for a moment, he saw his father's face, proud and kind, watching him train with the pack.
"You mean summon all the hounds on Hatake Hill?" Kakashi said, forcing a lighter tone to mask the emotion.
"There are thousands of you mutts! Y'all breed like crazy— chakra-powered puppy mills, I swear." He waved a hand dramatically, his eye crinkling with exaggerated horror.
"I'd have a dog army tearing up this city, chewing on those fancy carriages, and probably starting a riot over who gets the best bone."
Pakkun bristled, his tail flicking indignantly. "Hey! We ninja dogs have our needs amplified by chakra, okay? It's biology, not a choice!" He puffed out his chest, his small frame radiating mock offense.
"Besides, you'd need your own information network in this world. I can smell others of our kind—normal dogs, not ninja hounds, but still dogs—everywhere. This place is a canine paradise. We'd fit right in."
Kakashi chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. "A canine paradise, huh? I'll believe it when I see it." But Pakkun's point was valid. The hounds were masters of stealth and tracking, and their noses could uncover secrets no phone or "internet" could match.
An information network. The idea was tempting, but summoning the entire pack was impractical—for now.
"I'll summon the others when I have a home base," Kakashi said, his tone shifting to business. "It'd take days of chakra to bring the whole pack here, and I'm not exactly swimming in reserves. For now, focus on gathering information. They speak a different language here—English, they call it—so start learning it. I'll summon you again in a day or two."
He paused, his eye softening. "It was good to see you, Pakkun. Really."
Pakkun nodded, his expression a mix of loyalty and concern. "You got it, boss." He hesitated, then added, "Be careful, Kakashi. This place… it's not like home."
Kakashi stood, his silhouette sharp against the city's glow. "I'm always careful," he said, though the lie was as old as his scars. With a flicker of chakra, he body-flickered, vanishing into the night, his form blending with the shadows of the rooftop's edge.
Pakkun watched him go, his small frame still as the city's hum filled the silence. His eyes, usually sharp and sardonic, softened with a weight that belied his size. "You've been living a hard life since you were a kid, Kakashi," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant traffic.
"Your dad, the White Fang, raised you to be strong, and we hounds pledged to protect you—to him, to you. We'll uphold that oath, no matter what world you're in."
The pug's tail drooped, and he turned, his nose twitching as he scented the air. This world was strange, but Kakashi was here, and that was enough. The hounds would follow, as they always had, through war, loss, and now, across dimensions.
Pakkun padded to the edge of the rooftop, his small form disappearing into the night, ready to begin his mission in a world that didn't yet know the Copy Ninja or his pack.