The Pack Grows

The night Akamaru became a father, I learned that miracles are messy, loud, and smell like wet dog.

It started with a whimper. I was dead asleep, drooling on my pillow, when Akamaru's distressed yelp jolted me awake. The room was dark, but I could smell the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

"Akamaru?" I mumbled, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "What's wrong, boy?"

Another whine, more urgent this time. And then I smelled it - the unmistakable scent of birth.

Oh crap.

"MOM!" I yelled, scrambling out of bed. "It's happening!"

The next few hours were a blur of activity. Tsume and Hana rushed in, transforming my bedroom into a makeshift delivery room. I stood there, wide-eyed and useless, as Akamaru's mate (a sweet-tempered ninken named Miyu) began the process of bringing new life into the world.

"Kiba," Hana called, snapping me out of my daze. "Come here. I want you to help."

Me? Help? I was barely tall enough to see over the whelping box!

But Hana was insistent. She guided my hands, showing me how to feel for the puppies, how to help ease them into the world. It was terrifying and amazing all at once.

And then, without thinking, I channeled chakra to my palms. Suddenly, I could sense everything - the puppies' tiny heartbeats, the flow of their nascent chakra systems.

"This one's struggling," I blurted out, pointing to a puppy still in the birth canal. "Its chakra's weak."

Hana's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't question me. Together, we worked to safely deliver the pup, my chakra-enhanced senses guiding us.

By dawn, we had a squirming, yipping litter of five. Akamaru pranced around proudly, while Miyu looked exhausted but content.

As we cleaned up, Hana pulled me aside. "Kiba," she said, her voice low and serious. "How did you know about that puppy's chakra?"

Crap. I'd slipped up in the excitement. Think fast, Kiba!

"I... I just felt it?" I stammered. "Like how you showed me to feel for their heartbeats, but... more?"

Hana studied me for a long moment, then broke into a grin. "Well, little brother, looks like you might have a future in veterinary jutsu after all!"

Crisis averted. For now.

The next few weeks were a crash course in puppy care. Feeding schedules, health checks, and more poop than I ever wanted to see in my life. But the hardest part? Training.

See, in the Inuzuka clan, even regular ninken are expected to be obedient and well-trained. For potential ninja partners? The standards are even higher.

Akamaru and I spent hours in the backyard, working with the puppies on basic commands. It was like herding cats, if cats were furry balls of energy with the attention span of a goldfish.

"Sit!" I'd command, trying to sound authoritative. Three puppies would flop onto their butts, one would start chasing its tail, and the last would decide my ankle looked delicious.

Akamaru wasn't much help. He'd bark encouragement, but it usually just got the puppies more excited.

But slowly, painfully slowly, we made progress. By the time the pups were two months old, they could reliably sit, stay, and come when called. Most of the time, anyway.

The real challenge came when Tsume decided it was time to start training me in more advanced Inuzuka techniques. Specifically, chakra synchronization with multiple ninken.

"The key," she explained as we stood in the training yard, puppies tumbling around our feet, "is to extend your chakra, to feel the unique signature of each ninken, and then to harmonize with them."

Right. Because that sounded so simple.

I closed my eyes, reaching out with my senses. I could feel Akamaru's chakra easily - warm, familiar, as much a part of me as my own. But the puppies? Their chakra was wild, untamed, flitting about like fireflies on a summer night.

I tried to grasp onto one, to sync with it, but it was like trying to catch smoke. The moment I thought I had it, it slipped away.

After an hour of frustration, I was ready to call it quits. But then, just as I was about to give up, something clicked. For a brief, shining moment, I felt it - five tiny flames of chakra, pulsing in sync with my own.

The sensation was overwhelming. I could feel every breath, every heartbeat, as if they were extensions of my own body. And then, just as quickly, it was gone.

I opened my eyes to find Tsume staring at me, her expression a mix of pride and... was that concern?

"Well done, pup," she said softly. "Very well done indeed."

As the weeks passed, I split my time between training with the puppies and learning from Hana. She seemed determined to nurture my apparent talent for veterinary jutsu, teaching me the basics of diagnostic techniques and simple healing.

It was fascinating stuff, and I threw myself into it with gusto. Maybe a little too much gusto.

"Kiba," Hana said one day as I successfully diagnosed a sprained paw on one of the puppies, "how are you doing this? Some of these techniques... they're way beyond what I've taught you."

I froze, panic rising in my throat. "I... I've been reading?" I offered weakly.

Hana's eyes narrowed, but before she could press further, we were interrupted by a commotion at the front gate.

To my surprise, it was Hiashi Hyūga, looking as stern and imposing as ever. But there was something else in his eyes as they landed on me. Curiosity? Interest?

"Inuzuka-san," he addressed Tsume formally. "I've come to discuss your son."

As Tsume led Hiashi inside, shooting me a look that clearly said 'we'll talk later', I couldn't help but wonder: what had I done now?

Hiashi Hyūga prided himself on his ability to read people. It was a skill honed over years of political maneuvering and clan leadership. But this child... this Inuzuka boy... he was an enigma.

He watched through the window as the boy returned to the puppies, his movements sure and confident. No wasted motion, no childish fumbling. It was... unsettling.

"Your son," Hiashi began, turning to Tsume. "He's quite remarkable."

Tsume's posture stiffened slightly. Protective. Interesting. "He's gifted, yes," she replied cautiously. "But what brings the head of the Hyūga clan to our door over a three-year-old?"

Hiashi considered his words carefully. "There have been... whispers. About his role in uncovering the Kumo spy. About his unusual talents."

He saw the flash of worry in Tsume's eyes before she masked it. "Kiba's an Inuzuka," she said firmly. "His senses are naturally sharp."

"Indeed," Hiashi murmured. "And yet..."

He trailed off, watching as the boy effortlessly calmed an agitated puppy, his small hands glowing faintly with medical chakra.

"He bears watching," Hiashi said finally. "For his own protection, if nothing else. Talent like that... it attracts attention. Not all of it welcome."

Tsume's eyes hardened. "Are you threatening my son, Hyūga?"

"Quite the opposite," Hiashi replied smoothly. "I'm offering an alliance. My clan's protection, in exchange for... let's call it a cultural exchange. Your son could learn much from us, and perhaps teach us something in return."

He saw the conflict play out on Tsume's face. Suspicion warred with the pragmatic realization of what this could mean for her clan, for her son.

"I'll consider it," she said finally.

Hiashi nodded, satisfied. As he left the Inuzuka compound, his mind was already racing with possibilities. That boy... he could be the key to so much. A bridge between clans, a new type of shinobi.

Or a threat to the very foundations of their society.

Only time would tell. And Hiashi Hyūga intended to watch very, very closely.