"It wasn't a debate." Shadows rippled over Ginta's wax-pale skin, darkening his expression. Kakashi whistled between his teeth, dropping the vocalization into a growl when it rasped. Two pairs of canine ears flicked back, listening intently. "Mission was to get you home. Alive, for preference. That's what I'm doing."

Bring back whatever pieces you find.

Splitting up would force their pursuers to do the same. And a smaller target was easier to kill, or defend against. They'd have to send their strongest for Kakashi, especially if they recognized him--he was still the biggest threat. The only unknown. And Ginta's clone stood a better chance of outrunning everyone if it didn't have Kakashi holding him back.

Kakashi had a better chance of surviving if Ginta wasn't around to distract him.

He ducked his head, snatched a laden breath, and growled deeper. Shouma lunged forwards and snapped at the clone's heels. Hoshika darted in, herding it from the other side, driving it forwards. They were ninja dogs, trained summons, hardened in the crucible of war--they could move faster, run for longer, even now. Ginta gasped and protested, voice grating high with pain, but the clone sped up. It had to, or risk destruction. The dogs weren't bluffing.

Kakashi really wasn't bluffing.

"Move," he snapped. "Before I waste chakra making you."