Even in the midst of everything, Kakashi still spared a blank second to look at the clone and wonder whose voice it was imitating--because it definitely wasn't his. Then his ears registered words almost too good to be real.

Haruichi.

He didn't groan thankfully, instead he made sure Tsume's hands were tight around Kuromaru's limp body, that the familiar was balanced once more across Kaori's broad shoulders, and tried not to breathe in the death-scent that swirled around them both. When that was done, he stepped back. To his side, the clone bearing the unconscious jounin stiffened to attention.

Kakashi twitched his chakra, and didn't particularly mind when the man's battered body smacked down in the dirt. The clone took off like a hunting hound, arrowing straight for the distant figure heading towards them. If he blinked hard, Kakashi could almost make out the tiny brown blur of Pakkun running in front.

Then he got moving again, snapping medic-kits out of their scrolls, and canteens out of sealed paper. The clone would tell Haruichi everything he needed to know--and everything Ryouma didn't. Kakashi just had to keep everyone alive until the medic got here.

Five minutes. A few hundred heartbeats.

It was probably doable.