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It was a fiercely chilly morning in Konoha, the kind of biting, damp cold that seeped into the floorboards and made getting out of bed an exercise in sheer willpower.
Umino Iruka, however, was a man of discipline. He had been awake since four in the morning to start the broth.
Dinner tonight was going to be rice noodles with slices of pork, soft-boiled eggs, scallions, and a broth that was currently being lovingly coaxed into existence over gentle heat.
Iruka stood at the stove, humming quietly as he skimmed the impurities off the top of the massive steel pot. Inside was the culmination of hours of careful preparation: a rich, heavily spiced pork broth destined for noodles. The apartment smelled absolutely divine; it was a heavenly mixture of star anise, ginger, garlic, and slow-simmered bone marrow.
On the counter next to him sat a small mountain of boiled, cooled pork bones, completely stripped of their marrow and meat. He usually ground them up to mix into the fertilizer for his balcony tomato plants.
The sound of a door clicking open broke the peaceful silence of the kitchen.
Iruka didn't turn around. "You're up early. The sun is still technically asleep, Kakashi."
Shuffle. Scrape. Shuffle.
From the hallway, Hatake Kakashi emerged.
He was wearing an oversized grey sweater, his standard-issue ANBU uniform pants, and absolutely no mask, though his face was currently buried in the collar of his shirt to combat the chill. His silver hair was a gravity-defying disaster of sleep-tousled spikes.
"Mrmph," Kakashi articulated eloquently.
He didn't stop in the kitchen. He zombie-walked in a perfectly straight line toward the living room, collapsed face-first onto the couch, and instantly resumed breathing in a slow, rhythmic pattern. The jonin was out cold before his head even hit the cushion.
Iruka sighed affectionately, reaching for the pot lid.
Before he could place it down, a rhythmic click-clack-click-clack of claws on hardwood echoed from the hallway.
Following right behind the elite jonin was a parade of eight highly trained, highly lethal ninja hounds.
Because where the squatter went, his summons unfortunately followed.
Pakkun trotted into the kitchen first, followed closely by Bull, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, Urushi, and Guruko. The eight ninja hounds stopped dead in their tracks.
Sixteen canine eyes locked onto the counter.
Specifically, onto the mountain of large, incredibly fragrant, perfectly cooled pork bones.
The silence in the kitchen became thick.
Iruka paused, holding the pot lid mid-air. He looked at the bones, then at the eight highly trained tracking dogs.
"Don't even think about it," Iruka warned. "Those are for my tomatoes."
Pakkun sat down and looked up at Iruka. Slowly, deliberately, the small pug widened his droopy eyes. He let out a soft, pathetic little whine that sounded like a tea kettle dying of heartbreak.
"Iruka," Pakkun said gravely. Somehow, his voice was a deep baritone that sounded like a retired mob enforcer. "Look at us. We are wasting away. Boss doesn't feed us. He just reads his smut and ignores our basic nutritional needs. Have mercy on the working class."
"You ate a three-pound premium beef roast yesterday, Pakkun," Iruka stated flatly. "I saw the butcher’s receipt on the counter."
"Lies and slander," Pakkun sniffed. "We are but skin and bones. Much like those bones on the counter. The ones that you are finished with."
Bull let out a high-pitched whimper that did not match his imposing physique whatsoever. Bisuke rested his chin on the floor, looking up through his eyebrows.
Iruka stared at them. He knew when he was being played. After all, he dealt with manipulative six-year-olds all day; he should have been immune to this.
But it was cold. And the dogs had actually managed to not track mud onto his rugs the night before.
"Fine," Iruka groaned, waving a hand in defeat. "Take them. But carry them outside! I don't want marrow stains on my rug!"
The dogs didn't need to be told twice. With a flurry of movement, each ninken respectfully claimed a massive pork bone in their jaws.
Pakkun offered Iruka a sharp nod of respect around a femur. "You are a saint among men, Iruka. We will never forget this."
The pack turned and trotted directly toward the sliding balcony door. Pakkun nudged it open with a practiced paw and led the pack into the frosty morning air, leaving Kakashi sleeping on the couch and Iruka shaking his head at the stove.
——————
The eight ninken did not go to a park to eat their prizes or to the training grounds.
No, they made a coordinated journey across the village, heading straight for the walled perimeter of the Inuzuka Clan Compound.
See, the relationship between the Hatake ninken summons and the Inuzuka clan hounds was not merely a rivalry. It was a deeply ingrained, generational blood-feud built on a foundation of pure pettiness.
The ninken viewed the Inuzuka dogs as uneducated, domesticated pets who relied entirely on their humans for basic jutsu formulation.
The Inuzuka dogs viewed the ninken as smug, pretentious mercenaries who thought wearing tiny flak jackets made them better than everyone else.
Not only did the canines have ideological differences, but their feud also predated the Third Shinobi War.
The history of their conflict involved: a deeply entrenched series of territorial disputes, heavily contested marking rights on the Hokage Monument, and the Great Squeaky Toy Incident of '93, which neither side was willing to apologize for.
This animosity was exactly why Kakashi actively avoided Inuzuka Tsume at all costs.
Anyhow, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the eight ninken arrived at the chain-link fence bordering the main Inuzuka outdoor kennels.
The handlers were all still asleep in the main houses.
But the hounds were awake.
Inside the fence, a young Akamaru—still small enough to ride on a head—was sitting with a dozen other Inuzuka dogs, including the massively intimidating Kuromaru.
Pakkun trotted up to the fence and looked through the chain-link at Kuromaru.
The Inuzuka dogs instantly bristled. Hackles raised. Low growls rumbled through the early morning air.
Slowly, Pakkun placed the massive pork bone between his paws. He looked Kuromaru dead in the eye and took a loud, wet bite.
CRUNCH.
The entire kennel went completely still.
The other seven ninken lined up shoulder-to-shoulder alongside the fence. In perfect unison, they laid down and began to loudly gnaw on the most delicious bones in the entire village.
CRACK. SLURP. CRUNCH.
Inside the fence, the Inuzuka dogs lost their absolute minds.
Akamaru let out a devastated yelp, scratching frantically at the dirt. Three mastiffs began to froth at the mouth, hurling themselves against the chain-link, barking furiously. Kuromaru let out a booming howl of pure jealousy, his eye twitching as Bull audibly sucked the marrow out of a tibia.
"Oh, man," Uhei said loudly around his bone. "This is incredible. Iruka really outdid himself. The flavor profile is simply divine."
"Indeed," Bisuke agreed smugly. "It’s a shame we can't share. But, you know, premium, home-cooked, lovingly simmered pork bones are strictly for elite summons. I guess standard dry kibble is fine for... some dogs."
Somehow, the kennels got even louder.
Pakkun casually rolled onto his back, holding his bone between his two front paws, and took a delicate, agonizingly slow nibble.
"Ah, the sound of jealousy," Pakkun noted, looking at the furious mob of dogs on the other side of the fence. "It goes with pork bones perfectly."
They stayed there for a full ten minutes, letting the delicious scent of pork waft into the kennels, before the sound of angry Inuzuka handlers shouting from the main house prompted them to pack up.
Having successfully ruined the morning of their mortal enemies, the ninken finished their bones, left the completely chewed-clean scraps just inches out of reach of the fence, and proudly trotted back toward the center of the village.
Psychological warfare was, after all, a shinobi's greatest tool.
——————
By the time 8:00 AM rolled around, the sun was fully up, and Kakashi had successfully migrated from his face-down position on the couch to a sitting position at Iruka’s small kitchen table.
Now that Kakashi was officially awake, he had a steaming cup of green tea. His hair was slightly less disastrous, and he looked at least seventy percent alive.
Iruka was standing at the counter, meticulously slicing scallions for the evening's dinner, chatting amicably about his week at the Academy.
"Overall, the third-years are doing well," Iruka said, sweeping the green onions into a small bowl. "Their shurikenjutsu is improving across the board. Although, the noise level in the classroom has gone up significantly in the last few days."
"Maa, the weather is getting colder. They're probably just antsy," Kakashi offered, taking a sip of his tea.
"It's not just the weather, actually. Kiba-kun has been energetic lately," Iruka smiled fondly. "He’s a good kid, but he has zero volume control when he's excited."
"Ah. The Inuzuka heir. Did he learn a new trick?"
"He did," Iruka nodded. "He’s been working closely with his mother, and he officially managed to pull off the Fang Over Fang technique with Akamaru this week. He's been bragging about it non-stop."
"Impressive for his age," Kakashi acknowledged neutrally. "It requires a high degree of synchronized chakra rotation."
"Exactly. He's very proud," Iruka chuckled, reaching for a rag to wipe down the cutting board. "He was standing on his desk yesterday, telling anyone who would listen that it was the ultimate canine jutsu. He actually said, and I quote, 'This is why Inuzuka dogs are a hundred times better than those stuck-up ninken summons. A ninken could never do a clan jutsu!'"
Kakashi froze. The teacup stopped halfway to his lips.
"He said what?" Kakashi asked. His voice didn't rise in volume, but the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop by ten degrees.
"He said ninken were basically just talking lapdogs because they couldn't perform Taijutsu," Iruka continued, entirely unaware of the dangerous spark he was fanning. "And that the velocity of the Gatsūga was something a 'prissy talking pug' could never achieve."
Kakashi’s relaxed, sleepy posture instantly vanished, replaced by an unnerving stillness.
Iruka didn't notice, as he was currently washing his hands in the sink. "It's just typical twelve-year-old bravado, of course. Naruto immediately challenged him to a fight, Sasuke called them both idiots, and I had to put them all in time-out. But you have to admire his clan pride."
Kakashi slowly lowered his teacup to the table. A competitive aura visibly radiated from his shoulders.
"He said that my ninken were just talking lapdogs?" Kakashi’s voice was dangerously quiet.
Iruka turned off the tap and dried his hands. "Well, yes. But like I said, he's twelve, Kakashi. Don't take it personally."
Hatake Kakashi did not care about many things, like village politics or paperwork.
But if there was one thing for sure, he cared deeply about his dogs. Oh, and he was incredibly petty when he wanted to be.
"Iruka," Kakashi said softly, an unhinged gleam igniting in his dark eye.
Iruka finally turned and looked at Kakashi. That look in his eye…
…was the same look Kakashi got when Maito Gai challenged him to a hand-stand race around the village perimeter.
It was the look of a man about to do something very dangerous and unnecessary.
"Kakashi," Iruka warned, his voice adopting his firmest 'Academy Teacher' tone. "Do not."
"The Fang Over Fang is just a synchronized, dual-rotational Taijutsu technique utilizing centrifugal force and chakra to create a drill effect, correct?"
"I know what you’re thinking, Kakashi, and my advice is no. That is a guarded clan technique. If you steal the Inuzuka’s signature move just to prove a point to a twelve-year-old boy, Tsume-sama will skin you alive and use your flak jacket as a chew toy for Kuromaru."
Kakashi stood up and grabbed his green jonin vest off the back of the chair. He slipped it on, his eye curving into a bright, unapologetic smile.
"Maa, Iruka. I’m not stealing anything. It is simply my duty as a jonin to further Konoha’s military power," Kakashi reasoned. "If a student is spreading misinformation about the limitations of ninken, I must correct the academic record. Furthermore, I am defending the honor of my summons. Grab your coat."
"I am not going anywhere with you!" Iruka protested, backing away.
Kakashi simply reached out, grabbed Iruka by the back of his collar, and dragged the protesting chunin toward the front door.
——————
Training Ground Three was relatively quiet. The morning dew was still fresh on the grass.
Iruka stood by the memorial stone with his arms crossed, staring disapprovingly at Kakashi.
"This is childish, Kakashi. You’re an adult with a grudge against a pre-teen."
"I am defending my pack’s honor," Kakashi corrected, standing in the center of the field with Pakkun.
Kakashi closed his eye, his brilliant mind already dissecting the jutsu he had only ever seen performed a handful of times.
"Let's see," Kakashi murmured to himself. "The Inuzuka technique requires the user and the dog to spin on a parallel axis. They use chakra to reduce air resistance and create a cutting edge. But honestly, relying on a physical dog limits the rotational speed."
Pakkun snorted. "I'm not spinning, Boss. I just ate a massive pork bone. I'll throw up."
"I know, buddy. Stand back," Kakashi patted the pug's head.
Kakashi’s hands flew through a quick, one-handed seal.
Poof.
A Shadow Clone materialized next to him.
"A Shadow Clone?" Iruka raised an eyebrow. "The Inuzuka technique specifically utilizes the feral, beast-like chakra of a canine to stabilize the drill."
"Which is why it's flawed," Kakashi replied casually. "Feral chakra is unstable. But if I use a clone, our chakra networks are identical. The synchronization will be more efficient. Now, let's add a little... flair. Just rotating is so boring."
Kakashi and his clone crouched low to the ground.
Suddenly, the air in the training ground crackled. The heavy scent of ozone completely overpowered the smell of oak trees. Brilliant, blinding blue lightning erupted from Kakashi’s hands, encasing both him and his clone in a small thunderstorm of lightning chakra.
"Kakashi, you lunatic!" Iruka yelled over the deafening screech of a thousand birds, shielding his eyes from the glare.
"Watch and learn, sensei!" Kakashi shouted back cheerfully.
Kakashi and his clone kicked off the ground simultaneously. They launched into the air, their bodies twisting into a violent, high-speed spin.
The two spinning masses of blue lightning carefully merged, creating a massive tornado of electrical destruction.
"Lightning Release: Fang Over Fang Jutsu!" Kakashi's voice echoed from inside the maelstrom.
The twin drills of lightning tore across the training ground. They completely obliterated everything in their path. A massive trench was instantly carved into the earth. Three large oak trees were vaporized completely, turning into splintered, smoking ash the second the jutsu made contact.
The electrical tornado shot across the field, banked sharply, and hit a massive boulder, shattering the solid rock into a million pieces of glowing shrapnel.
With a final crack of thunder, the jutsu dispersed.
Kakashi and his clone landed perfectly on their feet in the center of the smoldering crater. The clone gave a lazy two-finger salute and vanished in a puff of smoke.
Kakashi stood up, dusting a speck of ash off his shoulder. He looked unfazed, and unfairly, completely devoid of sweat.
"Well," Kakashi hummed, walking over to Iruka with a smug eye-smile. "That was incredibly easy. I don't see what the Inuzuka are always bragging about."
Iruka stared at the devastated, smoking landscape. Then, he looked up at the terrifying genius of the man in front of him, wasted on an act of petty revenge against a school child.
"You," Iruka whispered in horror, "are a monster."
"Thank you!" Kakashi beamed.
——————
At that exact moment, the bushes to the left of the clearing rustled.
Inuzuka Kiba, bundled up in a winter coat with Akamaru perched on his head, stepped into the clearing. He had taken a detour on his morning walk to practice his new jutsu away from his mother's critical eye.
Kiba stopped.
He looked at the smoking trench, the three pulverized oak trees, and finally, at Kakashi, who was casually stretching. Pakkun was sitting near the destruction, filing his nails on a rock.
Kiba’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"What..." Kiba squeaked, his voice cracking violently. "What was that?!"
Kakashi paused his stretching. He turned his head, seemingly noticing Kiba for the first time.
"Oh, hello Kiba-kun," Kakashi said politely. "Just a little morning calisthenics. I was just practicing a new jutsu."
Pakkun looked up, locking eyes with Akamaru. The tiny white puppy let out a terrified whimper and buried his face in Kiba’s hair.
"We call it the Lightning Fang," Pakkun said, his gravelly voice carrying perfectly across the clearing. "It's a shame Inuzuka dogs can't use elemental nature transformations. I guess they really are limited by their biology."
Kiba’s jaw dropped. His face cycled rapidly through confusion, horror, and finally, soul-crushing despair.
The jutsu he had spent months bleeding over had just been replicated (and apparently upgraded) in five minutes by a man who wasn’t even part of the clan.
"I'm going home," Kiba whispered, turning on his heel. "I'm going home and I'm going back to bed. The world is unfair."
Pakkun trotted over to Kakashi, sitting by his sandals. The pug let out a smug chuckle.
"Boss. That was beautiful. The kennels are going to be so quiet tonight."
Kakashi knelt down, offering Pakkun a high-five, which the dog proudly accepted.
As Iruka watched this happen, he thought about Inuzuka Tsume, who was undoubtedly going to find out about this and attempt to murder Kakashi in the streets.
Iruka sighed, rubbing the bridge of his scarred nose.
Yep. No wonder the Inuzuka and the ninken hated each other.
"I’m going back home," Iruka announced loudly, turning on his heel. "And if Tsume-sama ends up trying to kill you, I’m not hiding you from her."
"I’ll be over for dinner, sensei! Save me a bowl!" Kakashi called out happily, completely unbothered by the incoming political disaster he had just orchestrated.
Truly, it was a beautiful morning in Konoha.