Chapter Text
Everything happens too fast. Usually it's the opposite, usually everything is much too slow. But Kakashi's heart is beating too fast and there's too much blood and Rin is alive but Obito is almost dead. Even though he's no longer below the rocks he's still almost dead, and Sensei can't heal Obito, and Rin can stop some bleeding, but not much more than that, and-
Kakashi shouldn't care so much, really. They're still in the field, he needs to be calm, like a good shinobi. He needs to calm his breathing and even his heart rate and think. He feels stupid, right now, he feels dumb. (Is this how normal people think all the time? He can't stand it.)
Sensei looks worried, even if he's so obviously trying to hide it. Around them lay dead Iwa shinobi, their blood still a vivid red, fresh enough to not be dulled. And that's good, there's no immediate threat, not anymore. (Sensei came in time—why did Sensei come? Did he think Kakashi wouldn't be competent? New information, maybe? Does it even matter?)
Kakashi's eye is throbbing, the slash through his lid bleeds and bleeds, but it's bandaged and he'll be alright, so he doesn't care. There are more important things to worry about, things like Obito-
"Obito," Rin starts, then stops, pauses, bites at her lip. "Is he—?"
"He...isn't dead yet," Sensei says, tone gentle, a bit lost. And Obito isn't dead yet but Kakashi knows enough about the human body to know that he's going to die soon. Half his body is crushed.
"Konoha is too far," Kakashi says, and tries not to wonder where Obito's grave would be placed. Would Kakashi be allowed to visit if it were inside the Uchiha district? "We won't make it back in time."
Rin shoots him a glare. "We will. If we hurry—"
"If we hurry," Kakashi interrupts, "then Obito's condition gets much worse, and he dies before we get there. And if we go slow and steady he also dies before we get there."
Sensei winces, shifts Obito around in his arms.
"We can't just give up," Rin says, and she looks like she wants to cry, or maybe punch Kakashi, but she doesn't do either. Instead she straightens up and wipes at her eyes and says, "What about Hiraishin?"
That—might actually work. Kakashi's only seen Sensei use it on himself, but in theory, with enough chakra and control and adjustment, it should be able to transport all of them.
Evidently, Sensei realizes this too, because his eyes widen just a bit, and he gets that look on his face that means he's deep into theory that even Kakashi doesn't quite understand yet.
"Maybe," Sensei says, but he still looks worried. "I haven't tested it with so many people. Hiraishin is a space time jutsu, if it went wrong..."
They shouldn't risk Konoha's Yellow Flash, a budding medic, and a genius for one good-for-nothing idiot Uchiha that actively breaks rules on missions. They shouldn't, they really, shouldn't, but—
"Okay," Kakashi says, and Rin nods.
Sensei closes his eyes, opens them. "Okay," he says, and beckons then to hold onto his arms. They do. "Okay," Sensei says, again, and the world snaps.
It folds in on itself, and they blink through an empty space and into somewhere bright and light, with tiled flooring and colorful people and—oh. This isn't Konoha.
Hiraishin went wrong.
All limbs intact. Normal chakra flow. Rin looks kind of nauseous, Obito is still unconscious, and Sensei's growing steadily paler. Everything tilts off balance as Sensei collapses onto the floor, and—
"Chakra exhaustion," Sensei manages, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Shit. We're—another dimension. Wrong one. Don't be hostile, Kakashi—"
"Okay," Kakashi says, and his voice comes out flat and numb. "It's okay. I can—" he can do—something. He can handle this. He's smart enough for this. It isn't hopeless.
"Sorry," Sensei says, and his eyes rolls back, and he also loses consciousness. Rin looks at Sensei worriedly.
Okay, Kakashi thinks, his eye is throbbing, he feels it faintly, but breathes in, breathes out, and surveys where they've landed. Alright.
-
Aizawa's day was going terribly, even before the blood-covered clump of people drop out of no where onto the floor of his classroom.
They appear in a sharp flash of light and clatter onto the tiling. Aizawa immediately goes on high alert, any thoughts of sleep banished. He's exhausted, bone-deep tired, but fuck. He isn't going to be anything but razor-edge sharp right now. With everything going on, with the League of Villains and his students—
The light fades out, and the first thing he sees is a tall, blonde man. He's wearing a long white garb with red patterning, and there's something dark and rusty in his arms. Someone, Aizawa realizes, with a little bit of horror, that bundle is a person, a child, by the size.
There are two other people. One with brown hair cut into a bob and purple marking across her cheeks, and the other with a mask, bandages wrapped across his face and a shock of silver hair. And they're—children. They're children. The silver-haired one looks younger than Aizawa's students, fuck.
But—this is still dangerous. His first priority now is his students. Aizawa rushes over, getting there just as the tall blonde starts rapidly paling. He's only able to catch something about dimension, and hostile and Kakashi.
"Okay," the silver haired one says, accent thick, sounds kind of strange, but still vaugly recognizable as Japanese. "It's okay. I can—"
"Sorry," the blonde says, and collapses onto the floor. He is, Aizawa notes, careful to keep the injured child from being too jostled.
It's all even worse up close, really. Even from seven tiles away the smell of blood and dirt and something a bit like gunpowder, but not quite, is terribly potent and almost nauseating. Up close their clothing looks a whole lot like something geared towards combat—the blonde is wearing what looks like some kind of military uniform. And they're all wearing metal headband printed with a symbol Aizawa doesn't recognize.
(An identifier? Of some kind? Is there some kind of underground organization that uses that symbol? Why are they children—)
His students, right. His priority right now is damage control and his students.
"Iida," he says, and is careful to keep his voice calm and even, "bring everyone out of here, call a lock down of this building. Everyone else, get out."
He doesn't turn around to see, but he can imagine the way Iida has no doubt straightened up.
"Understood!" Iida says, and he can hear shuffling. The class is remarkably, blessedly, silent.
The silver haired boy, shifts his attention from the blonde and onto Aizawa. He narrows his eyes, positions himself squarely in front of the girl and the blonde. Aizawa carefully begins to take a step forward but—
In an instant, in just half a beat, a blade thunks its way into the stone tiling by his boot. The blade—a knife that vaguely resembles ancient Japanese kunai—cuts right through the stone. He freezes.
Sharp, Aizawa thinks, and not only is it sharp, it's also been thrown with perfect precision and a great deal of strength.
"Don't step past that point," the boy says, eyes narrow. "Next it'll go through your foot, and after that your neck."
"Kakashi," the girl hisses, "Sensei said no hostility."
Sensei, Aizawa notes. She's probably referring to the blonde. The only adult.
The boy—Kakashi—flicks his eyes over to the girl for just half a beat before training them back on Aizawa. "...Do you think yourself the optimal candidate for deescalation and non-hostile negotiations?"
Surprise crosses over the girl's face, her eyes widen a bit, she opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, "Yes."
"Okay," Kakashi says, and steps back a tiny bit. Although he doesn't lose his combat-ready posture.
The girl straightens, forms her expression and steps forward. She stares Aizawa right in the eye. His skin pricks uncomfortably. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like any of this. His students are possibly in danger and there are children on his classroom floor, covered in blood and holding weapons, and the only other adult is passed out on the floor.
"Excuse us," the girl says, "we made a bad first impression. We don't mean harm, really. Truthfully we didn't even mean to come here."
"...Right," Aizawa says, and she doesn't seem like she's lying, but UA isn't somewhere that you just end up. "How'd you get here, then? Where did you come from? Who are you?"
Kakashi shifts, eyes him sharply, and Aizawa can almost feel the hostility.
The girl attempts a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. "My name is Rin, his name is Kakashi, and our sensei, the blonde, is Minato. Our other comrade...he's Obito. And you're..?"
"Aizawa," Aizawa answers, and narrows his eyes. "But that doesn't answer my questions."
"Ahaha," Rin says, pauses, then shakes her head. "Apologies, we're still on edge. We just came from an active warzone, so." That needs more explanation, that really needs more explanation. "Obito got crushed by a boulder and we needed to get home to a hospital fast, and we tried using space-time manipulation to get there, but..." she laughs a little bit. "Well."
Aizawa isn't paid enough for this.
"You mean to say that you're from another dimension?"
Rin blinks at him, look a little confused. "...Yes? I know dimensional travel is hard to achieve, but it shouldn't be too hard to understand."
Well, Aizawa thinks, if she isn't lying, then I guess that's proof of other dimensions.
"It's just a theory here," he says.
Kakashi raises a brow at him, looking supremely unimpressed. "It's common knowledge."
"Really," Aizawa says, voice bland. "Well, here it's common sense that children don't belong on the battlefield." Because he isn't going to just—just forget that.
Rin looks confused. So does Kakashi.
"...Sir?" Rin says, tone questioning. "I'm fourteen already."
God. Aizawa was kind of hoping they just looked really young.
"And the international minimum in this world is seventeen with parental consent and eighteen without," Aizawa says, voice dry.
Kakashi blinks a little. "That's inefficient."
Rin nods. "Even a civilian would think that's ridiculous..."
"Would they," Aizawa says, and wow. Somehow every word they speak paints a worse picture. "How is it in your country, then?"
She hums. "Well the standard is twelve, but right now it's wartime, so whenever the person manages to graduate, really. So usually eleven." She brightens, gestures at Kakashi. "He's an actual genius! He managed to graduate at five! He was on the front lines before I even graduated..."
Aizawa kind of feels a little sick. No, actually he feels really sick. She says it like it's a good thing.
"That's—okay," he says, "okay. let's put that aside. You said someone needs a hospital..?"
Rin straightens up, and something like hope sets into her expression. "Yeah. Obito. He's—he's..." she gestures at the limp corpse-looking child in the blonde—Minato's arms.
Aizawa grimaces. "We'll see what we can do. I'm going to get something from my pocket, it won't be a weapon. So don't attack me."
"Okay," Kakashi says, and he looks more relaxed now, but only a little bit.
Aizawa takes out his walkie talkie. "Aizawa. I need the ER ready for someone in..." he glances at the lifeless-looking child, "critical condition. The intruders aren't...really hostile. They claim inter dimensional travel among...other things."
The walkie talkie statics a little. Chiyo says, "Critical? Oh dear. We'll do our best."
And then Nedzu says, "Inter dimensional travel? Do you believe them, Aizawa?"
Aizawa thinks about that. They wear symbols Aizawa's never seen, and they speak with an accent he's never heard, and they talk about wars that don't exist, and they don't seem like they're lying. Their uniform has some kind of standardization. That kind of thing just—couldn't exist on Earth, he thinks.
"Yeah," he says, and sighs. "Yeah."
Nedzu makes some kind of high-pitched squeal. "Lovely! One of them is injured, you say? Well, get going! The infirmary waits!"
He really isn't paid enough for this.
-