Kakashi knew he was in the hospital before he was even fully conscious. The sterile scent and quiet but persistent hum of the overhead lights were enough to cue him in. He wondered what he was in for this time, and then remembered – chakra exhaustion. Although he had been sure he had died when fighting Pein, Tsunade was a miracle worker. Perhaps his discussion with Sakumo had been a dream.

Now was not the time to think on that, however. There was another chakra signature in the room with him, and it was familiar enough to drag him from the sleepy, dark corners of his mind and into reality, if only however briefly.

Kakashi cracked open an eye. The fuzzy hospital light was much too bright, and his eye closed again instinctively, while he released the softest sigh. As he waited to completely wake up, he decided to tally his injuries. Considering how much chakra he had used up, he didn't feel all that terrible. He still felt bad, yes, but not as bad off as he might have been expecting, surviving death's grasp once more.

"Kakashi?"

In response, the Hatake mustered up his energy and squinted open his right eye once more. A blurry yellow figure leaned over his hospital bed, blocking the too-bright lights, and for that he was thankful. He couldn't quite make out the details of the blond's face, but he didn't need to. He could recognize his own student (although, he was half-expecting Maito Gai to be the one to greet him first. No doubt the boisterous man was asked to leave so he could get some rest).

"Good morning, Naruto," he rasped. His voice didn't sound quite right, but he chalked it up to underuse. Who knew how long he had been out, after the fight he had with the Peins? He wondered how the Village was doing in the aftermath. Leave it to the Number One Knucklehead Ninja to save the day. He couldn't be more proud of his student.

"Naruto?" Naruto repeated, and Kakashi wondered why he was saying his own name. "Kakashi, it's me. Can you see me alright? The nurse said you did a number on your eyes, but you should be okay. Why were you channeling that much chakra to them to begin with?"

"Maa, it was necessary, at the time. Pein was going to… Well." He cleared his throat. Something was wrong with it, and it didn't sound like the deep timber of his voice when he was parched. If anything, it was higher-pitched.

"Pain? Kakashi, why didn't you tell me you were in that much pain?"

Something was definitely wrong, but his body was too exhausted to put a finger on it. "Ah, well, you see…" He began, as his eye slipped closed. The rest of his answer was mumbled, and within moments the Copy Nin was asleep again, dragged under by painkillers and exhaustion.

Namikaze Minato frowned at his young, slumbering student. He stared at the Hatake boy, as if his covered face would give him any answers, but after a long moment he realized the fruitlessness of it. Sighing, he flopped down into the plastic chair and snagged Kakashi's chart from the bedside table, scanning it over for the umpteenth time since his student had collapsed at the training grounds yesterday. Kakashi's body showed enough damage to his chakra system to have killed a grown man, and the crux of it centered at his left eye. The report also suggested that his body was overcompensating for that same left eye, channeling much more chakra than should have been needed, which explained the pain his student had no doubt been in – and perhaps still was. The results were migraines and temporary vision loss, and an unnecessary drain on his chakra. Other scribblings noted medical terms and observations that Minato couldn't begin to understand.

The Jonin sensei sighed, setting the clipboard back down. He supposed he had answers, but he didn't have an explanation. How did Kakashi sustain such damage to his chakra network? Minato would have known if Kakashi ended up in the hospital on the brink of death, but he also knew his genius student was smarter than to push himself that far in personal training. He could only assume that the somehow brand-new but entirely-healed scars on his chakra system were born of necessity, but that led him nowhere. In no situation did Kakashi need to push his body past its limit. Not to mention that the boy was a Chunin, and, from what he gathered from the nurses and doctor, Kakashi was harboring S-rank worthy injuries. The Hatake was a prodigy, that much was true, but he wasn't that strong. Facing any S-rank ninja in a life or death battle would have killed the boy, and Kakashi was clearly alive, if not worse for wear. Although, according to the medic's reports, Kakashi should definitely not be alive. As if that wasn't terrifying enough, there was also the problem of Kakashi's left eye.

Minato solemnly watched his student sleeping peacefully. Kakashi had been fine three days ago – his moody, apathetic, rule-adoring self. Then, two days ago, he suddenly came down with a sickness and missed training altogether. Yesterday he actually collapsed, and that was only after he was acting strangely. Kakashi was always aloof, keeping everyone at an arm's length after Sakumo's death, but the Kakashi he saw yesterday was not the Kakashi he knew. His precious student looked exhausted, mentally and physically, as if he had lived through lifetimes' worth of sorrow. Yes, this Genin team was gearing up for war, and Sakumo's death was tragic, but it didn't add up to the kind of pain that he glimpsed. Nothing added up. Why did his body have such extensive chakra damage? Where did he get the habit of channeling chakra to his left eye? Who was this new Hatake Kakashi?

Minato scrubbed at his eyes, sighing. There was no use turning these thoughts over in his mind endlessly. He would simply have to ask the boy outright, when he woke up – assuming Kakashi recognized him for him, and not this Naruto. Standing up, Minato stole one last, long glance at his sleeping student before he left, turning off the lights and shutting the door quietly behind him. He would tell Obito and Rin that they could visit Kakashi tomorrow if they liked. For now, he needed to get home and have a long talk with Kushina.

The Namikaze left the hospital. As soon as his spike of blond hair disappeared from the hospital's view, the window of Kakashi's darkened hospital room opened. A lone, small figure slipped out and disappeared into the night.

へのへのもへじ

Kakashi didn't know where to go. His thoughts were thick and sluggish from pain medication, but at the very least his brain wasn't trying to explode from his skull. His memory was jumbled, and trying to pick his memories apart and sort through them was proving to be impossible. He had thought that he'd seen Naruto at his hospital room, but had it been Minato? Hadn't Minato died years ago? Hadn't he himself died?

Nothing was the same – the Village, the Memorial Stone, his team, his own apartment. He needed a dash of familiarity, just to get his thoughts in order. He needed to not be found.

There was only one real option.

The Hatake compound looked as it used to. Old and rickety, the building boasted of a proud clan long dead. Graffiti marred the front doors, disgracing Sakumo even after his (cowardly, a voice said) honorable death. In his own timeline, Kakashi had gone back eventually to clean and restore it to something of its former glory, but that was long after Minato's death. At this time, the building looked haunted and pitiful.

But it was home.

Kakashi slid open the doors and instinctually left his sandals by the door. Ghosts of the past embraced him as he walked inside, flickers of memories of happier times, when he was a happy child with at least one parent, but those thoughts quickly faded as his eye adjusted to the gloom. The darkness that surrounded and consumed this building was thicker than fog. No moonlight reached this place. The windows were boarded and covered, every door closed. Maybe it was a hallucination, but Kakashi thought he could smell old, dried blood from the room that had taken him most of his life to enter – and his father's life.

Again, Kakashi wondered if Sakumo's spirit was unable to find rest. He had forgiven his father, but did that transfer to his timeline? Was the White Fang still trapped on the border of the afterlife?

Kakashi sank to the dusty floor in the open space, knees finding solace in an old pillow before a low table. The thought of his family home in such disrepair filled him with anger. His father deserved better than this shabby shrine to the past. He needed to clean it. He needed not to be alone.

A little blood and a large swell of smoke later, eight ninken sat at his feet: Pakkun, Bull, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, and Guruko. The canines seemed ready for battle, and Kakashi hazily reflected that he had rarely called upon them for anything more when he was at this age. Only when he was at his lowest did he call them for company, and even rarer did he summon all eight. The ninken very quickly realized, however, that they were not in a battle – and they realized soon after that where, exactly, they were.

Even though he was not the loudest ninken of the bunch, Pakkun was the first to speak up. "Kakashi?" The pug ventured. "Why are we in the Hatake compound?"

"I wanted to clean it," came the reply. The dogs glanced at each other, and Guruko padded forward to sniff cautiously at his pant leg. A soft whine emitted from her throat, a gentle sound that he rarely ever heard from his ninken. They had the capability to tear his enemies in pieces, and their soft side was reserved for him alone. Even still, his ninken were more prone to teasing chatter rather than such forward concern.

Guruko lifted her head, and he looked into her dark eyes with one of his own. "Are you alright, Kakashi?"

Rather than reply, Kakashi reached out to pet her. The other ninken took this as their signal to all crowd around him. He did his best to pet them all, his mind happily blank all the while. The pain killers were really taking their toll on his ability to stay awake, especially when he was finally at ease with his pack. Somehow, he soon found himself rearranged: laying down against Bull's side, with his ninken strewn about his stretching legs, although Pakkun was settled on his lap. He had never addressed Guruko's question, but Kakashi thought that his dogs hadn't forgotten about it. Even still, he would do his best to avoid any of those questions, as he didn't want to make his precious ninken worry more than they already might be.

Alas, as if sensing that his mind had returned from the darkness, his ninken began to speak.

"Kakashi, why were you at the hospital?" Pakkun asked, his voice a low rumble.

Shiba lifted his head from Kakashi's shin to voice his piece. "And why aren't you still at the hospital?"

Kakashi squinted his eye in an attempt at a reassuring smile. "You know how much I dislike hospitals, Shiba," he answered. "I'm alright."

His answer didn't seem to satisfy any of his ninken. Even Bull growled low in his throat, and the boy sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. None of them needed to speak aloud for Kakashi to know their thoughts: "You're never alright if you visit this place."

Because he trusted his ninken, Kakashi tried to elaborate as vaguely as possible. "I needed a familiar place."

The ninja dogs all looked to each other, speaking in that silent way that only they could understand. It seemed they were preparing another question. Pakkun shifted on Kakashi's stomach, his squishy little paws pressing down lightly as he adjusted his positioning. The pug stared up at his boss, eyes squinted. "You've been acting off since the other day," he commented, and Kakashi shrugged in response, letting his eye close. He understood his ninken's concern, but he couldn't tell them what was truly going on. He couldn't tell anyone. This was a burden that he had to bear on his own, even if he had no idea what was going on with the timeline, or his very body.

Pakkun asked, "Does the name Pein mean anything to you?"

Kakashi startled, sitting up suddenly. Some of his ninken whined at being disturbed, but they all quieted quickly, focused on his answer. Kakashi's mouth felt dry.

"How–?" He started, staring at Pakkun with shock. He swallowed, and tried again. "How do you know that name?"

"You remember the future, don't you?"

"I– Y-yes, I do. How could you possibly–"

Pakkun set his paw on Kakashi's chest. There was no force behind it, but Kakashi relaxed into Bull's side nonetheless. The sudden movement had sent a dizzying rush through him, but he hadn't realized it from the pounding of his blood in his ears until he relaxed once more. His ninken also remembered the future? How was that possible?

"I don't have any more answers than you do, Kakashi," Pakkun continued. The other ninken remained silent, save for small sounds and nods of agreement, and let their pack leader speak. "We all felt when our bond was broken. Your chakra was gone, entirely. We knew you died." A few whined softly at that. Kakashi felt another piece of his heart break. He and his ninken were family, pack, bonded through something much stronger than blood. In an attempt to soothe them, or himself, he began petting them all again.

Pakkun continued, laying his head on Kakashi's belly, "We heard that you had been fighting one of the Akatsuki. One of Tsunade's slugs found you." Briefly, Kakashi remembered that time worked differently in the world of summons, and he wondered how long they were without him before he woke up as a twelve- or thirteen-year-old. "The next thing we knew, the bond was back, but different. Then you summoned me, looking like you had just started puberty."

Kakashi scoffed, but let the pug speak. "We all played along, at first, because we weren't sure. But now…" Pakkun looked to the rest of his pack, and they nodded.

"Now we know that you remember, too," Bisuke said. "We think it has something to do with your chakra. It's not the same as when you were this age."

"Yeah," Akino agreed. "It feels more like it used to."

Kakashi nodded, but words were escaping him. The knowledge that he wasn't completely alone in this was more relieving than he could put into words. His ninken were the closest thing that he had to family. When he had come back to this world, he had thought that he'd lost the relationship he had built with them throughout the years. Although he did rely on them when he was a teenager, it wasn't until he was truly, completely alone did his ninken become more precious to him than life itself. More than once they saved him from the darkness inside his own mind, and they knew him better than any human did – even Maito Gai, who was the closest thing to a best friend that he had. Reuniting with Team Minato had felt like coming home, but that home was much like this old Hatake compound – a home that he had long left. His ninken here with him gave him hope again, to continue on for the sake of a better future.

"I don't know what's going on," Kakashi admitted with a hollow laugh. From his vest pocket he pulled his papers from the hospital, while his other hand continued to pet the nearest canine. He scanned the paper, saying, "My chakra network says that I should be dead. I did die, fighting Pein, but I never… I never got to the other side. Instead, I was at a campfire. Father was there, waiting for me."

His ninken shifted, surprised to hear that. "Sakumo?" Uhei asked, and Kakashi nodded.

"We talked, for a long time. He wanted to hear my story, and I told him. I told him everything he missed. By the time I was finished, it felt like… like something was pulling me back. I tried to fight it, but he told me to go, and I did. Then, I woke up in this body, in my old apartment. Minato-sensei found me and asked why I wasn't at training." Another empty huff of a laugh escaped from him. Everything seemed to be catching up to him at once, spilling out now that he had someone to tell. "My eye – my left eye – it's been killing me since I woke up here. At first I thought it was because I burnt it out using the Kamui. The doctors say I'm channeling unneeded chakra towards it, but it's not of my own volition. I haven't been at full chakra since I woke up, either, and it's still draining me."

Akino chimed in again. "You don't have Obito's Sharingan anymore?"

"No," Kakashi said, shaking his head. "It's my eye. Rin – I went to training yesterday. She asked to see it before we got started. When I opened it, I just… passed out. Then I woke up in the hospital. I came here right after."

The ninken were quiet, soaking in the information. Kakashi settled himself further into Bull's warm fur. The warmth of all his beloved pack pressed against him was soothing, grounding. He didn't realize how much he had missed them until this moment, when he could spill his worries into their listening ears, knowing they would always be there to help him, whether he was battling an enemy or his own mind.

"You must have some theories by now, Kakashi," Pakkun prodded. The pug knew him well.

"I do." Kakashi cleared his throat, rolling up the medical sheet and returning it to his vest pocket. His hands then settled back on his dogs, thumbing gently over their soft fur. "Nothing concrete, though. I used the Kamui right before I died. It distorts space, and I thought that it might have distorted time, too. Rin and Obito were the last things I can remember thinking of."

Urushi pointed out, "Space and time are two different things, you know."

"I know, but I don't have anything better."

"Is your eye still bothering you?" Guruko asked, easily changing the subject. Kakashi pondered the question for a moment before giving a small nod. The pain was still there, but faint and faraway. His tiredness was the most noticeable at the moment, and he blamed it on his slow-replenishing chakra.

"The painkillers from the hospital are helping, though," he offered, "but my chakra is still low."

"Sleep, then, you brat," Pakkun grumbled. "We'll talk – and clean – in the morning."

Kakashi knew better than to protest. None of the ninken moved from their spots draped over his legs, or stomach, and he was more than fine to sleep on the floor. He sighed softly, leaning his head back against Bull, and let his eyes close. Surrounded again by his pack, Kakashi drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of home.